#that she's just falling – and there's no rope – and she's terrified!

[rosemariiaa]

~Holding On~

pairing- Paige x Azzi

a/n: not really much to say.. but this was kind of sad to write. I’m taking requests for a while until I start on something new , so send what you want to read lovelies 💌

Anon Request: • can u write pazzi oneshot where paige has thanatophobia and has panic attack and azzi id there to comfort her •

themes: fear of dying

Enjoy!!!

The apartment was quiet, but inside Paige’s head, it felt anything but. Her breathing was shallow, erratic—her hands trembling as her mind spiraled down a dark, endless tunnel. The walls felt like they were closing in on her, the fear wrapping itself around her chest like a vice. She was trying to keep it together, but it was slipping, all of it slipping.

She couldn’t stop thinking about it. The end. That moment when everything just… stops. What if it came sooner than she thought? What if she wasn’t ready? What if she left everything and everyone behind?

Her chest tightened, her heartbeat thrumming too fast, too loud. She pressed her back against the cool wall of her room, gasping for air that didn’t seem to reach her lungs. The world felt like it was fading, like she was falling, and she couldn’t stop it.

Azzi wasn’t supposed to come over tonight. Paige had tried to be normal during practice, tried to laugh and joke like always. But the moment she was alone, it crept back in. And now it was suffocating her. Somehow, through the fog of her thoughts, she heard her phone buzz. Azzi. She didn’t have the strength to answer it.

Then, the door opened. Paige’s breathing hitched when she heard Azzi’s voice, soft but concerned. “Paige? You didn’t answer my texts. You okay?”

Azzi’s eyes immediately landed on Paige, crumpled on the floor, her knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around herself as if trying to hold her body together.

“Oh my God, Paige,” Azzi whispered, rushing to her side.

Paige couldn’t even speak. She could barely breathe. She felt a cold sweat trickling down her spine, her vision swimming. Her mind was racing, chaotic and frantic, screaming things she couldn’t control.

Azzi dropped to her knees beside Paige, her own panic rising, but she pushed it down. She needed to be strong right now. Gently, she cupped Paige’s face in her hands, forcing her to meet her eyes. “Hey, hey… I’m right here. You’re okay. Breathe with me, okay?”

Paige’s eyes were wide, unfocused, but she tried to latch onto Azzi’s voice. It was like a lifeline, a rope pulling her from the deep end, but it was hard. Everything was hard.

“I can’t,” Paige managed to choke out, her voice raw, broken. “I can’t… Azzi, I… it’s like… I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel like I’m going to die. I— “You’re not going to die,” Azzi said firmly, though her voice cracked with emotion. She wrapped her arms around Paige, pulling her close, holding her as tightly as she could. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Paige’s body shook as she collapsed into Azzi’s embrace, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Azzi held her, one hand stroking her hair, the other rubbing circles on her back. She didn’t say anything for a while, just let Paige cry, let her panic run its course. The weight of the fear was crushing, suffocating.

“I’m scared,” Paige finally whispered, her voice so small it almost broke Azzi’s heart.

“I know, baby. I know,” Azzi whispered back. “But you’re not alone. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

They sat like that for what felt like hours, the weight of Paige’s fear slowly lifting, little by little. Her breathing started to even out, though the trembling in her hands remained. She could feel Azzi’s heartbeat against her own chest, steady, grounding her in a way she hadn’t thought was possible.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Azzi asked quietly, her fingers still running through Paige’s hair.

Paige didn’t answer at first. She didn’t know where to begin, how to explain what it felt like to be so terrified of the end—so terrified of something inevitable. Finally, she whispered, “I think about it all the time. About dying. About not being here anymore. It’s like this… weight. I try to ignore it, but sometimes it just… it takes over. And tonight, I just—” Her voice broke, and she clutched Azzi tighter. “It’s too much.”

Azzi closed her eyes, trying to keep herself from crying. She hated seeing Paige like this, so vulnerable, so scared. “You don’t have to go through this alone,” she said softly. “I know it feels like you’re carrying it all by yourself, but I’m here. Always.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Paige whispered, her voice barely audible.

“You won’t,” Azzi said, her voice fierce, determined. “You’re stuck with me, okay? Forever, if I have anything to say about it.” Paige gave a shaky laugh, though it was more out of exhaustion than amusement. “Forever, huh?”

“Forever,” Azzi confirmed, leaning down to press a kiss to Paige’s forehead. “We’re in this together.”

Paige nodded, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She didn’t feel okay, not completely. The fear was still there, lurking in the back of her mind, but it felt… manageable, at least for now. With Azzi holding her, it didn’t feel like it was swallowing her whole.

“I love you,” Paige whispered, her voice soft and fragile.

Azzi’s heart swelled, and she kissed the top of Paige’s head again, pulling her even closer. “I love you too. And I’m going to be here, no matter how hard it gets. You don’t have to be scared alone.”

They stayed like that, tangled together on the floor, the world outside their small apartment fading away. For now, it was just the two of them, holding onto each other through the storm. And for the first time in a long time, Paige didn’t feel quite so afraid.

————-

tags: @thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner 💌

[coffeeshopguest]

please i need stardew valley bachelors in a kinky gangbang with gender neutral or female farmer!

I loved this suggestion but please have mercy, I didn't know which ones you wanted so I did all 6 which was VERY difficult for me to incorporate so I made it sort of cheap in the end to save having to write a whole night of sex with them all 😭 pls enjoy! I'm sorry if it's a little shitty, I've never written or read group sex stuff 😭

The Bachelor's and the Farmer's Night

Word Count: 1569

Pairing: F!Reader x Sebastian, Harvey, Sam, Alex, Shane & Elliott

Warning: 18+, group sex, rope kink, handcuffs, swearing, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, anal mention, oral mention, cum swallowing, light bdsm (choking, spanking), all of it is pretty vague and quickly mentioned except the fingering & vaginal sex

It was Sam's idea. Not that he was gonna openly parade that around to anyone at first. It started as a pathetic fantasy that he would get off on at night, thin walls making him cover his own mouth as he imagined the farmer laying on a bed, tied down, taking it from him and Sebastian over and over. He was ashamed to even incorporate his friend in a fantasy, but the idea of a threesome with the farmer and Sebastian was just...so fucking hot. The idea of watching her get fucked, then fucking her - Sam was a simple man and he nearly came on the spot every single time he imagined it. 

What's worse? He began incorporating the idea of Alex in the mix. He was friendly with Alex - and Sam had seen the farmer interacting with Alex a lot recently. Even throwing around a football with him the other day. Sam didn't immediately think anything of it, until he woke up sweating and hard, having dreamt the farmer and Alex going at it while Sam jacked off and waited for his turn patiently. Slowly, Sam began to think about...what if more people got involved? And oh, god. He finally let it slip to Sebastian. 

"What do you think of that new farmer?" Sam asked as he took a shot for one of the striped balls on the pool table. His voice was even, but his heart was racing a pathetic amount. 

Sebastian leaned on his stick, watching Sam's shot. "She's cute," Sebastian answered. The two made slow eye contact and Sam debated just leaving the whole conversation at that. But something about the way Sebastian stared him down made him crack. 

"Yeah, yeah, she is...uh- you like her?" 

Sebastian took a swig of his drink, nodded a little. "Sure," he said, "why?" 

"How...how do you like her?" Sam gently rested his stick down on the wall, watching his friend. "Like," he began, "sexually...or...?" 

Eyes widening a little, Sebastian tilted his head. "I- we don't usually talk about that kinda stuff," he dismissed, turning his attention to the pool table and ignoring Sam for a moment. 

Sam nodded slightly, before he finally whispered, "I know but I want to...uh..." he glanced around the Saloon to see if anyone was looking towards them. No one was. "I kinda want to...have...some group sex with them." 

Sebastian took a shot, perhaps out of shock, the cue ball launched across the table and sunk a striped ball. He stared down at the table. Quiet. "Just us three or?" 

"Uhm...I was thinking maybe Alex..." 

Sebastian raised his head up, hair falling over his left eye. "The farmer? Did you talk to her?"

 Sam shook his head and Sebastian slowly turned to the table where he'd set his drink aside, grabbing it and gently taking a sip. "Ask her. Tell me when you do."

"You...you're in?" 

Sebastian gave a short nod, and the two acted as though the conversation never even happened. 

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When presented with the idea, albeit from a terrified Sam, you agreed immediately. With a condition. You wanted Sam to invite Elliott, Shane, and Harvey. His eyes widened. 

"Six....you want six guys-" you nodded. Sam had to awkwardly adjust his pants, at the mere suggestion of that many guys fucking you he got hard. Just the idea of watching it was too much for him. "I- I'll see what they say." 

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To Sam's shock, every single person agreed. He was expecting a sharp no from Shane, but he said yes without a second thought. Harvey stuttered out a "Oh...holy shit...uh- at the farm-?" and blushed madly. Elliott tried to maintain some sort of dignity but by the immediate bulge in his pants Sam guessed his answer before Elliott could recover words and agree. Alex tried to act disgusted at first. But then he mumbled a "can I bring handcuffs and rope?" (Sam asked "dude you live with your grandparents in a small town, why do you even have those?" and was met with a glare). 

So it was arranged, a day and time was set. The six made their way down to the farm, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Sam was hard basically half the day before this, eagerly awaiting the nighttime - when his fantasy would become reality. The farmer answered the door, smiling softly at the six men. "Boys, come on in," she smiled. Sam nearly choked, they were wearing a flannel, opened up, only a bra underneath. Fuck. Fucking christ. She was good at this. 

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Upon being brought to the bedroom, Sam gently guided you to lay down, Harvey quickly mumbled "she needs a safe word-" and the rest agreed. Turning their attention to you. Six flushed, eager faces. You felt like prey laying in the bed, flannel opened to expose your bra. A safe word definitely was needed. As much as you wanted to take all six repeatedly you weren't entirely sure how much you could take before you were too used.

"Red light," you murmured out. "Yellow light means give me a break, but I want to keep going." 

And so it began. Sam quickly ripped off the flannel and tossed it aside, then tore the bra off and threw it aside, his hands wandered to your jeans, slowly unzipping them. Your panties exposed, he gently moved his hand down, rubbing softly against the wet spot. You bit your lip, about to moan. Quickly, Sam backed up, Sebastian took one side of the bed and Alex the other. Hands launched to your chest, as Sam gently finished pulling off your pants. A hand on each breast, gently running your ripples through their fingers, you began moaning out loud. Sam got off the bed. 

"Who wants to go first?" he asked, Elliott stepped forward. He gently undid his pants, erection springing out. He gently lined up. 

You bit your lip, before he backed away, "did...anyone bring lube?" Elliott's voice gently asked. It was Harvey who had, gently digging it out of his jacket pocket and handing it over. Elliott gently poured some into his hand, gliding it across your pussy causing you to moan out. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Sam, eagerly jacking off as he watched. Sebastian was still by your side, but his hands had left your body. Elliott gently shoved a finger in. "I'll start slow, you're about to have a hell of a night," he said reassuringly. 

You looked up into his eyes, nodding softly. He smiled, gently leaning down, placing a kiss on your forehead, before be pulled his finger out. "Did that hurt at all?" you shook your head, and he gently shoved two fingers in, letting your body adjust to the feeling, he slowly began pumping them in and out of you. All eyes were on you and you whimpered softly, meeting eyes with Shane who was still fully dressed. 

"Sha- shane-" you mumbled, gasping as Elliott's fingers expertly worked you. "Can- you- strip?" 

A hand gently laced around your neck, "use manners, baby, what do we say?" it was Sebastian's hand, tight grip but just light enough not to hurt. Elliott's fingers effortlessly kept time. 

"Please?" you whimpered, the hand left your neck and Shane slowly began to undo his belt. As soon as he was stripped, Elliott's hands left you, for only a second you had a miserable feeling of emptiness before Shane swapped with Elliott. 

He postioned himself, hands gently gripping your hips as he found where to line up. "Ready?" you nodded, and with one swift thrust he was in you. Lips found your neck, Shane was focused on fucking you. It was Harvey who had knelt beside you, hand gently gliding down your body to your tit's. Lips on your neck, sucking and leaving a hickey. 

Shane grunted, speeding up more. "Fuck- tight...gonna-" 

"Not in her," Sam whimpered, you had forgotten Sam was still here, in the corner of the events jacking off. "We can't all...not in her." 

To describe the events would be tiring and long and endless. They took turns, spilling themselves over your naked body, in your ass, in your mouth. Alex was partial to rough sex, Sam into watching, Harvey wanted to pleasure you however you asked, Shane was focused solely on his own quick finish, Sebastian wanted to tie you down with Alex's ropes when he fucked you and choke you out, Elliott was gentle and soft and sweet and placed kisses on your forehead as you took their dicks over and over and over. 

In the end, the sun rose when you guys finally ended the session. You had given several sessions of head. Taken fingers, fists, and dicks. Been tied down, choked, spanked, had your hair pulled. And each of them had asked for something the others hadn't. Sam begged to finish by jacking off onto your naked body. Sebastian wanted your lips wrapped around his cock when he finished. Alex, he was the one who dug out a condom so he could feel your pussy tighten around him as he came inside you. 

When the session ended, you simply told all of them. "We're doing this again." 

[vivwritesfics]

Everybody Wants To Rule The World

Zac Brown ruled the McLaren empire. His daughter was constantly getting into trouble, getting herself kidnapped and whatnot. But she was pretty good at getting into those situations. Oscar was hired so that she wouldn't get into said situations. She thought he would be easy to break. But there was a reason Zac hired Oscar. He was the best of the best and he wasn't going to fall for her shit.

6.5K

Warnings: kidnapping, violence, mafia fic themes, smutty themes and talks of sex (but no actual smut) guns and death (nobody important)

Another dingy warehouse. Another splintering wooden chair. And another ugly man giving her father demands over the phone.

Demands that wouldn't be met. The fact that he was even trying was laughable. Demands hadn't been met since she was fifteen years old. Her father would rather receive her head in a box than meet the demands that would have saved her life.

She tested the rope tying her wrists behind her back. it was a good, sturdy knot; she'd be the first to admit that it was a well tied knot. Grabbing the end of the rope, she tugged. It didn't budge.

She didn't panic. If she was to panic, it would have made things so much worse. Oh, her dad was gonna be so mad when she got home.

Her captor ended the call and let out a breathy, terrifying laugh. He slipped the phone into his pocket and turned on his heel to face her. "Sounds like daddy isn't going to come and save his little princess."

She simply raised her eyebrows at him. Clearly, he hadn't heard of her reputation. That was fine. She wasn't salty about it.

"Should we send him one of your ears? Show him just how serious we are?"

The rope gave slightly, allowing her to slip her hand out. She didn't, not yet, not while he was watching her. "Who is we?" She asked, pretending to look around the warehouse. She knew exactly how many people were watching her.

Barking out a laugh, she slipped one hand out of her bindings and grabbed the rope before it could fall, maintaining the illusion that she was still tied up. She stopped her eyes from moving to the men standing in the shadows. If they had weapons, she couldn't see them.

"Fuck it," she said and unravelled the rope in her hands, keeping it hidden behind her. "Let's do it, let's cute off my ear. Maybe then you'll get your money."

The grin that came across her face was sickening, but she steadied her nerves. He kept staring at her as he reached behind him. "Someone give me a knife," he said.

There was a moment before either of the men in the shadows moved. But then they strode closer and placed a knife into the bosses hands. He whispered something to him, and she didn't need to hear it to know what it was.

"I got it," the boss said, shrugging him off. He retreated to the shadows as the boss approached her knife balanced between his fingers. "Do you think you'll still be pretty without one of your ears?" He asked, his grin showing off his too white teeth. So white and perfect that they couldn't have been real.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Probably," she answered.

A hand hit her cheek. Her nostrils flared as she stared at him, head tipped to the side and cheek stinging.

He leaned down, knife held out. Before the sharp metal could make contact with her skin, she grabbed the rope in both hands and kicked him away. He stumbled back in surprise and dropped the knife as she stood up.

The second she was on her feet, she wrapped the rope around his neck and pulled him towards her. The knife was beneath her high heeled shoe, keeping it away from the men that rushed towards them.

"I wouldn't," she said, tightening the rope around the bosses neck. "I really fucking wouldn't. Holding both ends of the rope in one hand, she pulled him around just enough for her to pick up the knife. "This your only weapon?" she asked as she looked at it.

The other men looked at each other and raised their fists. She couldn't stop her loud, mocking laughter. "You guys are fucking stupid," she said and stabbed the boss in the thigh.

He fell to the floor with a cry. "Here's how this is gonna work," she began, "I'm gonna walk out of here and you guys are gonna get him medical attention." She reached down and stabbed his other thigh. "And if any of you want to stop me, I can always give you guys the same treatment."

Silently, they stepped to the side and allowed her through. She kept a hold of the knife and held her head up high as she walked out of the warehouse.

***

Daniel Ricciardo was so dead. His whole job was to take care of her, and she had disappeared.

He'd turned her room upside down, looking for her. When she got back from whenever she was, she was going to kill him for the state he'd left her closet in.

At least her dad didn't know.

Holding his phone up to his ear, he tried calling her. Again. And again, she didn't pick up. At what point did he start panicking? At what point did he stop searching and inform her father that she was missing?

Daniel didn't have to think about it for too long. His heart leapt into his throat when there came a knock at her door. "Darling?" Came the voice of her father, Daniel's boss. "Can I come in?"

Panic held him in a vice as he climbed over her things, scattered all over the floor, and pulled open the door.

"Sir," Daniel said, holding the door just open enough to show his face. "How can I help you?"

Zac frowned at him. "Tell me honestly, is she in there?"

Daniel's answer was to swallow.

Zac pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're fired, Daniel," he said and strode away, phone pressed against his ear.

She strode into the house just a few minutes later. Feet bare and dirty, high heels dangling from her finger by the straps. Her wrists were rubbed raw and there were splattering of blood on her skin.

"Shit, kid," said Daniel as he pulled her in. "I was so damn worried about you."

She kissed his cheek and then reached up to wipe away the lipstick left behind. "Sorry, Danny," she said with an amused smile. "I got bored."

She grabbed his hand to pull him along. After her evening she just wanted to sit Daniel on her bed and ride his cock until she forgot above everything.

There was a distinctive click, a revolver being cocked. "You're fired, Daniel," came the voice of her father. "Get the fuck out of my house."

She pulled her hand out of Daniel's and looked at him. "You got fired?" She asked, heels swinging as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"He did, Princess," Zac answered, his gun still pointed at Daniel. "His one job was to protect you, and he failed," he finished, pulling his daughter behind him. "He needs to leave before I blow his brains out."

She rolled her eyes. Her dad was so damn dramatic sometimes. There was no way Daniel, or anybody else, would have been able to stop her from sneaking out when she wanted to.

Daniel looked at her, desperation in his eyes. But she was too busy picking at the blood beneath her nails. So, he turned his attention to her father. "Zac, please," he tried, stepping forward. "I just want to protect her."

Zac pulled the trigger and the bullet lodged itself in the wall beside Daniel's head. Daniel knew just how good a shot Zac was, knew he was missing on purpose. He adjusted his aim slightly. "Five." Daniel's eyes went wide. He turned on his heel and began rushing through the house. Zac followed, but he stayed at a walk and kept his aim trained on Daniel. "Four."

She'd had so many bodyguards in the last few years. When she was a little girl she'd had Lewis watching over her. And then she had Jensen for a good few years, and then Fernando. When Fernando left to work under a different boss, to work for the enemy (as her father said), Carlos watched over her.

She'd liked Carlos, had pulled him into her bed. He'd kissed her sweetly and taken her virginity, the two of them hidden beneath the sheets of her big bed.

It had gone on for a year before her father found out. Carlos had been her first everything. The first man to kiss her, the first man to see her in a state of undress, the first man bring her any sort of pleasure. She had really, truly loved him. She had wanted to run away with him.

But when her father was found out, Carlos was sent away. He was sent to work for someone else, someone that they had something of a partnership with. She had loved Carlos, and her father had loved him, too. He'd loved him with a son, and that was why he couldn't kill him. If it had been anybody else caught in his daughters bed, he wouldn't have hesitated.

As her father followed Daniel out of the house, she turned on her heel and marched towards her bedroom, humming to herself. All she needed now was to scrub the other man's blood from her skin and find something to soothe her wrists.

"What the fuck!" She cried as she pushed open her bedroom door.

Her room was a state. Her drawers had been emptied, things pushed from their shelves. Her wardrobe had been emptied, the clothes either crumpled on the floor or thrown over her unmade bed. It was like a hurricane had torn through the room.

If her dad didn't kill Daniel, she certainly would.

She ignored everything but the wardrobe. The rest of it could be dealt with tomorrow, but her poor wardrobe. That was her space, her creative space, and Daniel had defiled it. How dare he.

As soon as her wardrobe was back in order, she walked into her en suite and turned on the shower. A yawn left her lips as she stripped out of her dress and climbed under the steaming water.

The rest of her night was a blur. She yawned again as she washed her body. Ready to sleep, she climbed out of the shower and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel. She fell into bed, crawled beneath her blankets, and immediately found herself asleep.

While she was sleeping, Zac was hard at work. He had people to do these things for him, sure, but he did it himself when it came to his daughter.

There must have been somebody that could look after his daughter. Someone experienced, like Fernando, or Lewis. Or Carlos.

He called Andrea, his right hand man, into his office. It had been Andrea's idea to look into their juniors, to see if any of them would be good enough to protect his daughter. That was how they got Lando, their best man

None of their juniors were. So, they looked a little further afield, at rookies working for other... empires.

Oscar Piastri. He had incredible statistics, stats that Zac and Andrea shouldn't have had access to. But they did, and they wanted him.

Andrea was privy to certain information about the different empires. He kept the secrets about his own empire, the McLaren empire, well guarded, but knew all the dirty secrets about the Ferrari empire, about the Williams empire, and, most importantly, about the Alpine empire.

He knew how staff were treated, knew what was expected of the juniors. That was why Oscar Piastri had such good statistics, because of how hard Bruno pushed him. Andrea and Zac both knew that Bruno was a piece of work. They knew how easy it was going to be to get Oscar away from him.

They sent him one message, holding nothing more than a job offer, and waited with baited breaths. Nobody else got to see this side of the boss, holding his hands together as if he was praying as they waited for Oscar to reply.

Three grey dots appeared on the screen. Oscar's reply appeared, only holding five words. The reply wasn't surprising: What's in it for me? Clearly, Oscar was a smart kid, Zac and Andrea could tell.

They laid it out for him, the benefits this job would come with. He'd be working for a bigger, more powerful empire, he would get paid more than he would working for Alpine, and there was more they could provide him with. Food and lodgings, anything he could have needed.

Interviews in this line of work wasn't an easy thing to arrange. But, as a junior, Oscar operated with a curfew. The interview was arranged for after the curfew. It was awkwardly done, a video call while Oscar hid himself in the junior barracks bathroom.

They outlined the job as much as they could with Oscar being part of the McLaren empire. Zac gave no information on his daughter as he tried to outline the requirements of the job. He made it clear that it wasn't going to be easy, and Oscar made it clear that he wanted the job.

All he had to do to accept the position was to show up at the house. Well, show up at the location provided that Zac and Andrea had given to him. The little café in the heart of town. A sweet little place, not the sort of place he would have expected to meet them.

They set Lando Norris, the best of their men, to pick him up. Lando took his favourite car, his baby. It was fast and sleek and far too expensive. It was an intimidation tactic, and it was working.

He pulled up, sunglasses covering his eyes as he climbed out of the car. The way he looked around was lazy. He pulled out his phone when he couldn't immediately find Oscar. Oscar couldn't tell what he was doing from where he was sitting. But he pulled his sunglasses down his face and looked around again.

Straightening up his tie, Oscar slipped out of his seat. He abandoned his coffee and strode over to the car. He had no doubt who this person was. His number plate was LAN, for goodness sake.

Lando stared at him as he approached. "Good weather we're having," he said, shoving his hands into his pocket.

"I think it might cloud over soon," Oscar answered.

Neither of them were looking up at the sky.

Lando checked him for weapons and listening devices as discretely as he could. When he determined that Oscar was clean, he gestured for him to get into the passenger seat of the car.

Oscar climbed in. He looked at Lando, staying quiet as he looked away. Lando was the best of the best, rivalled only by Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc. Being in the car with him was surreal.

The drive was silent. Lando fiddled with the radio until it played something softly. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove through Woking.

He pulled up to the house and parked his car up alongside more expensive cars. His car, which had once been the most impressive vehicle Oscar had ever seen, looked like crap compared to these.

"Good luck with the Princess," said Lando as he climbed out of the car.

Oscar swallowed and followed his lead. He climbed out of the car and walked up to the house. When he raised his fist to knock, he looked over his shoulder at Lando.

"Just go in," said Lando as he stroked the hood of his car.

Steadying his nerves, Oscar walked in.

***

This day was bullshit.

Her father kept her in his office for the day. As hard as she tried to leave, one look and he pulled her back, sitting herself in that little seat just behind his desk.

She could only file her nail for so long before she was completely and utterly bored. Standing up, she stretched her arms above her head. "I'm gonna-"

"Not until your new bodyguard starts," her father said, not even bothering to turn around.

She groaned and threw herself back onto her seat, hands dramatically covering her eyes. "Dad, I'm literally dying of boredom out here," she mumbled and groaned again, this time louder. "When is he starting?"

"Soon," Zac promised as he straightened out a stack of paper. "Andrea is just putting him through orientation."

She groaned again, for the third time in the space of a minute. "Quit bein' so dramatic," her dad said, shaking his head. "We wouldn't be having to do this if you didn't sneak out the other day."

Her gaze settled into a glare. If her new guard didn't show up soon, she was gonna steal her dad's gun and just leave. But her dad seemed to know what she was thinking. He pulled his gun from his belt and shoved it into his desk drawer.

Two minutes later, there was a knock at the door. "Touch my gun and you're dead," he said as he stood up. Still wearing that glare, she threw her nail file at him. It didn't go very far, fell to the floor just in front of her seat.

Her father opened the door. "Oscar Piastri?" He asked, holding his hand out. From her seat, she couldn't see as her dad shook the young man's hand and welcomed him into the office.

He was pretty, she could tell that immediately. He was pretty, but he looked easy. Easy to manipulate, and that was the most important thing. "Oscar," her father said, leading him across the room, over to her. "This is my daughter."

She stood from her seat and folded her arms over her chest. "You're my new bodyguard?" She asked, clearly unimpressed.

"I am," he said and held his hands out towards her. "I'm Oscar."

For a moment, she just stared at his hand. Oscar kept it held out, waiting for her to shake it. "Oh, boy," he heard from his right as her father sat back in his seat.

Keeping her arms folded over her chest, she marched past him, her shoulder hitting his. Oscar allowed himself to be pushed out of the way. With her father there, he wasn't going to dare to do anything but go with what she wanted. As she strode out of the office, her hips swaying, Oscar followed.

He kept his eyes on the back of her head. Don't look down. Don't look at the way she's moving her hips. Don't look down.

She knew what had happened, why she needed a new bodyguard. Even with everything Andrea had told him, Oscar didn't think she could be that bad. He was very, very quickly proven wrong.

"Where are we going?" Oscar asked as she pushed her way into her bedroom. Maids had cleaned up since Daniel had torn it apart in an attempt to look for her. Her pyjamas were on a heap in the floor, one she stepped over to get to her black purse.

"Out," she said, the first word she'd spoken to him, as she placed the bag on her shoulder and strode past him.

Oscar followed, keeping close to him. Too close, and he had five seconds to fix it. But he didn't fix it. He stayed walking far too close to her, so close she could feel him breathing down her neck.

"Fucking hell, stop," she said and Oscar stopped. She turned on her heel, turned towards him, and held out her arms. At first, it was just to see how close he was. When her arms hit him, she pushed so that he stumbled back.

He steadied himself and stepped towards her again. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She asked, folding her arms over her chest and glaring.

"I've been hired to protect you," said Oscar, keeping himself calm.

Her glare was nasty, vicious. "You need to stay three paces behind me, okay?" She stepped closer to him. "I'm gonna get on and do whatever the fuck I want to do, and you're gonna let me, okay?" They were stood chest to chest. Her fingers touched his chest, danced up towards his neck while she let a coy smile grace her features.

He held his breath until her nail dug into his throat. Oscar reached up and grabbed a hold of her wrist, pulling it away from his neck. "I've been hired to protect you," he said again. "And that's exactly what I'm going to do."

The smile dropped from her face, replaced with a glare. She turned back around and marched away, steps quick to get away from him. Oscar stayed just a pace behind her.

Oscar hadn't been ill prepared for this job. Andrea had given him plenty of warning of just how much trouble she was going to be. But he was prepared.

She didn't speak to him for the rest of the day. That was fine, Oscar was happy to follow her around and watch her antics. He followed her to a café, where she met with friends, followed her out to the park and listened to their chatter and gossip. He didn't take in much of the information, not unless he thought it was important.

Not until they started whispering about him.

His cheeks blushed red, but he stayed standing there. If he wasn't watching her, he was looking around, looking for any sign of danger. She whispered to her friends, giggling behind their hands. What they were saying, Oscar didn't care.

She still hadn't spoken to him as he drove her back to the house. Her car was a dream to drive. She handled beautifully, better than anything Oscar had driven when he was with Alpine. He couldn't hide his grin as he drove towards the house.

As soon as the car had stopped, she climbed out and marched towards the house. Oscar parked as quickly as he could and climbed out of the car, following her up the stairs and into the house.

She disappeared into her bedroom, slamming the door in his face. Oscar let out a breath and raised his fist, knocking on the door. "Hey," he called and tried the handle. "Let me in!"

Nothing. Of course it didn't work. It shouldn't have been surprising. Oscar didn't panic. He did what he was best at and stayed calm. Shrugging off his jacket, he left it by the door and walked out of the house.

It was a gamble, whether her window was open or not. He walked around the back of the house, counting the windows until he found hers.

Oscar wasn't built to climb. He wasn't good at it, but he still tried, using the window ledge beneath to climb up to her own. His knuckles it the glass before he tried to push the window up, but it wouldn't budge.

Fuck.

He knocked away and watched as she turned around. Her eyes went wide but she didn't move, took a moment to watch him. Oscar tried again to open the window.

Finally, she walked over. She pushed open the window, allowing Oscar into her bedroom. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She asked, heading towards her wardrobe as Oscar grabbed his jacket from outside of her room.

She couldn't deny that he looked good. With his jacket hanging over his arm, she could really see him, and she appreciated it. He was no Carlos, but he'd do.

Grabbing a dress from her wardrobe, she held it up to her body. "Did you ever think that maybe I shut you out of my room because I didn't want you in here?" She asked as she hung it over her wardrobe door and went digging for some shoes.

"Did you ever think that I can't trust you enough to leave you in here on your own?" He responded as he leaned against the wall.

She scowled at him as she stepped back out of the wardrobe, a pair of high heels hanging by the straps from her fingers. "Fucking creep," she mumbled and pulled down the zip on her skirt.

She didn't look away from him as she pushed her skirt down. Oscar didn't look away. She was challenging him, he knew, and he wasn't going to let her win. Once her skirt was on the floor, she unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall away from her shoulders.

She stepped towards him, much like she had in the corridor earlier. "Do you know something, Oscar?" She mused as she stepped closer to him. He kept watching her, eyes locked onto her own. "I always get what I want. Do you wanna know what I want right now?"

His arms were crossed over his chest as he looked down at her. Even when she settled her arms on his chest, moving them up to his shoulders, he remained stoic. "What?" He asked. His wife didn't betray just how nervous he was feeling, just how much he was sweating.

Wrapping her arms around him, she leaned up to whisper in his ear. "You."

Oscar took her arms from around his neck. He kept a hold of them as he walked her back, so that she was sitting on her bed. "You're a brat," he said and stepped back, leaving her there.

Their interactions through the evening were very limited. Any attention she wanted, Oscar wasn't going to give to her. That she caught onto very quickly.

Daniel had been the same when he first started. Of course, he'd never resorted to climbing through her window. Oscar was dedicated, and that made him a problem.

A problem that wouldn't let her sneak out, a problem that wouldn't sleep with her.

She was in agony.

The next day followed much in the same pattern. Oscar walking too close, Oscar watching everything she did. She couldn't escape his watchful eye. When she went to the bathroom he was standing outside, periodically nodding.

On her third day with Oscar guarding her, she was bored out of her mind. When she want to the bathroom, he followed to stand guard outside of the door. This was becoming her normal and she hated it.

There was a window in the bathroom. Small, too high for her to reach without assistance. For a moment she contemplated it. Contemplated how she was going to execute this admittedly stupid plan.

Beneath the sink was a little step stool. It was from when she was younger, when she was too small to reach her tooth brush in the cabinet above the sink. She pulled it out and positioned it beneath the little window.

It didn't give her much height, just enough to grasp the window ledge and hoist herself up.

There was a knock at the door. "Just a minute!" She called back, but it sounded weird. She hadn't been this... polite to him since that first night in her room.

She hurried herself up. Pushing open the window, she slipped out and dropped down onto the gravel below.

The stones bit into her skin. But she didn't care. Pushing herself up and wiping the stones away, she could hear Oscar pounding on the door. When she didn't reply, the knocks became something more. Louder, harsher, his entire body pushing against it.

She didn't stick around long enough to find out. Straightening up her skirt, she walked around from the house.

The cameras were following her, she knew. Security guards must have been watching her, must have been radioing Oscar of her whereabouts.

She didn't bother running. There was no point when the gates would have taken their time to swing open. No, she walked calmly, like she had all the time in the world.

Suddenly, her feet were no longer touching the floor. A grunt left his lips as he picked her up and turned her around. "I don't think so," he said and put her back down.

She stared up at him, arms folded over her chest. He could see the indents of the gravel against her arm, the grazes on her skin. But then she stepped around him.

Oscar picked her up again. He scooped her up and placed her over his shoulder, ignoring her shriek as he carried her back into the house.

"Fucking put me down!" She shouted, fists pounding against his back. "Oscar! Put me down! Now!"

His only response was to tighten his grip on her and march through the house. He didn't care as he took her past her fathers men, past Lando and Pato. When they sniggered at her, she held up her middle finger towards them.

Once he got to her bedroom, Oscar put her down. She glared up at him, arms folded over her chest. "I need to use the bathroom," she said.

Oscar grinned down at her. She looked somewhat embarrassed, unable to meet his eye. "Come on," he said and gestured for her to lead the way.

She walked down the hall, wearing a nasty scowl and looking at the floor. As soon as she got to the bathroom, she turned to shut the door, to try and lock him out. But Oscar shouldered his way in. "Hey!" She cried and tried to push him out of the bathroom. "What do you think you're doing?!"

He grabbed the step stool, folded it up and tucked it beneath his arms. He pulled the window shut and locked it, pocketing the key. "I'll be right outside," he said and placed a single pat to the top of her head. It was condescending as all hell and she wanted to kill him.

***

A year had passed. An uneventful year. For six months she'd attempted to sneak out. The first month of that was to get away from the house, to get out to the club and see her girl friends on the nights that Oscar said no.

But those other five months weren't because she wanted to get away. Whenever she snuck out, Oscar would be the one to carry her into the house. It was like he didn't trust her to walk back on her own. That was how she ended up over his shoulder or in his arms, being carried like a princess.

The kidnapping attempts had stopped, too. There had been a couple sicne Oscar started his job as her bodyguard. But he had thwarted all of them, kept her safe when somebody tried to climb in through her window.

On this day, Zac called Oscar into his office. He gave him a time and Oscar readied himself for it. He spend his morning with her, following her as she ate her breakfast.

She no longer tried to fight him at every turn. Oscar was grateful for it. He was able to see how pretty her smile was and that filled him with warmth. She was cute when she didn't want to kill him, he realised.

"Come on," he said once she'd finished her breakfast. He picked up her plate, dumped it in the sink, and offered her his hand.

"What do you think my dad wants?" She asked as she linked her fingers through his own.

Oscar pulled her out of the kitchen and through the house. He checked his watch. Just fifteen minutes until Zac wanted to see him. He swallowed. "I don't know," he answered and led her through the halls.

Maybe Zac wasn't happy with the work he was doing. Maybe he didn't think Oscar was doing a good enough job at protecting her. Maybe he didn't like that Oscar sometimes held her hand as they walked together.

He took her through the house and to the library. There Lando was sitting, tapping away at his phone. "Hey, Princess," he called as Oscar sat her down and squeezed her shoulders. "You sitting with me?"

"Looks like it," she mumbled and let out a yawn. She watched as Oscar disappeared out of the library, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as the door was shut, Lando leaned forward and snapped his fingers in front of her face. "What's up?" He asked as she turned to face him. "What's got you thinking so hard?"

She shrugged her shoulders and sank down in her seat. "How long did it take for Carlos to fuck me?" She mumbled, resting her cheek against her first. "What, a couple months? Maybe less than that?" She mumbled.

Lando snorted. "It took him a month to fall in love with you," he mumbled, his foot knocking against her own. "And Daniel slept with you on his first night on the job," he answered, finally locking his phone screen and letting it fall into his lap.

"What's taking Oscar so long?"

He properly laughed when those words left her lips. "Oscar is too much of a professional to sleep with you," he said and mockingly wiped at his eyes. She scowled at him. "He's falling for you, though."

Her head snapped towards him. "Huh?"

He nodded. "Yeah, princess." The name was mocking and she flipped him off. "Look, he wouldn't be holding your hand and shit if he wasn't, okay? That boy is falling for you. You need to trust me; he told me himself."

She leaned forward. "Lando, I need you to tell me exactly what he said."

Lando went to reply, but the library doors opened and Oscar strode in. "What now, Sweetheart?" He asked and offered her his hand.

She allowed herself to be pulled out of her seat and grinned at Lando. Sweetheart? He mouthed, and she let her tongue stick out from between her teeth.

***

Another dingy warehouse. Another splintering wooden chair. And another ugly man giving her father demands over the phone.

It had been so damn long since she'd gotten kidnapped, she was almost at a loss for what to do. Almost, but not quite.

The minute she realised she was getting kidnapped, she took a bobby pin from her hair and tucked it into the back of her skirt. The kidnappers slapped cuffs on her wrists and sat her on the uncomfortable chair.

She easily got her hands out of the cuffs, but these guys had weapons. They were certainly smarter than the last guys to kidnap her.

Oscar better get there soon.

She didn't know that as soon as they called to demand money, Zac had Oscar tracing the call. He let his computer do it's thing while he loaded his gun with bullets. He was going to do all he could to get her back.

As soon as he had the location, he set off with Lando and Pato. His knee bounced as Pato drove them, Oscar giving him the directions. God, they'd taken her so far away. There was no telling what they'd done to her for the time she'd been missing.

The outside of the warehouse wasn't well guarded at all. Lando and Pato counted all of the guards inside and Oscar caught sight of her.

The cuffs were still hanging from one of her wrists as she sat there. Why wasn't she moving? Why wasn't she getting up out of her seat and marching out of there like in all of the stories he'd heard about her?

"I'm going in," he whispered and pulled his gun from its holster.

But Lando pulled him back. "Wait," he said and gestured to Pato. "We'll make a distraction out the front and you go around the back," he said and Oscar nodded.

Lando and Pato's idea of a distraction was... interesting. At the sound of the music, several men headed outside. The ones that were left inside were easy for Oscar to take care of. When Pato started dancing, Oscar headed to the back of the warehouse.

He was a damned good shot. While Pato and Lando took out the men at the front, Oscar shot the others in the warehouse. When the first man hit the ground, the one who seemed to be running the operation pulled her out of her seat and pressed his gun to her head.

"Show yourself!" He demanded. He pushed the gun against her head more until it was tipped to the side.

Holding up his hands, Oscar walked into the warehouse. When he was told to put his gun on the floor and kick it away, he did. "You okay, Sweetheart?" He asked, looking at her.

"Never better," she answered, but her voice was shaking. Fuck, he needed to get her out of there.

"You're the big hero," said the man in charge. "You're here to save the day and ride away into the sunset." His laugh was utterly terrifying. "What if I just blew her head off right it front of you? Do you think this rich little bitch bleeds gold?"

Her eyes shut. This was it, she was going to die.

Red splattered across her face, but it wasn't her blood. The man in charge dropped his gun and slumped forward, the weight of his falling body pulling her to the floor with a shriek. Oscar shouted her name. He rushed over and pushed the dead body away from her own.

"Oh, sweetheart," he whispered and wiped at the blood on her cheek. Tears were falling and Oscar wiped them away as he checked her over for any injuries. Aside from a bruised wrist and trauma, she was okay.

Pulling her into his chest, Oscar looked past her. There was Lando, lowering his gun. His eyes moved to her, eyebrows raising in question. But Oscar shook his head and pushed her hair behind her ears.

Reaching up, she kissed his cheek. "Hey," Oscar whispered, pulling away from her. "C'mon, Sweetheart, not now," he whispered and pulled her to her feet.

She blinked up at him and wiped away her tears. "Come on, Oscar. Let me kiss you," she whispered, her lip wobbling.

His thumbs moved over the back of her hand in such a soothing manner. "I love you," he replied. "Really, I do. But I don't want to kiss you if you just want to sleep with me."

Her head hit his chest. "Don't do this now," she mumbled. "Not in this disgusting warehouse with a dead body behind us." She let her arms settle around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

The way he was looking at her, it had her ready to cry. She hid her head against his chest and shut her eyes, ignoring the way her heart was beating. "I don't want to just kiss you to sleep with you," she whispered and sucked in a deep breath. "I-I like you, Oscar."

His fingers touched her chin and tipped her face towards him. "Sweetheart," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. And then he kissed her cheek, the one that wasn't covered in blood.

And then he kissed her, lips slotting against her own. She sobbed into his mouth and Oscar squeezed her tighter. It said all that it was supposed to. I'll watch over you, I'll keep you safe. I love you.

Taking her hand, Oscar led her out of the warehouse. In that moment he vowed to never let anything like this happen to her again.

[ludwig-van-gaythoven]

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 4

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Implied ED, Claustrophobia

Parts:

Part 1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

You can feel Regina’s lips on your skin all morning. The aching pain in your hip is now replaced by a warm longing. It’s a pretty good metaphor for Regina herself. She can bruise you so easily and then make it all better.

She kissed you.

Why did she kiss you?

Was it because she felt so guilty about hurting you and couldn’t find the words to tell you? That had to be it. The other option briefly crosses your mind but you quickly dismiss it. This is Regina George. Less than 2 days ago she didn’t know you existed. She’s the Queen of the school, why would she want to be anything to someone like you? The thought is disheartening but it's much better than falling victim to a disappointing fantasy.

Regina is already gone, as usual. At least it gives you some time in the morning to sort your thoughts into nice neat boxes and get yourself ready without the distraction.

You know that today's activity is caving. Working your way through a man made cave system sounds much better for you, at least your feet are firmly on the ground. You decide on a pair of jeans, another band tee (Is that really all you packed?) and throw a hoodie on top. The caves might be cold and it’ll stop you scraping up your elbows while you navigate tight crawl spaces.

You make your way to the Campfire pit to be shown today's activity. The instructor tells you all to find groups or pairs. You don’t even bother glancing in Regina’s direction, she’ll be with Gretchen and Karen. You don’t mind going through it alone. It’s better than being paired up with a stranger. It would be much more fun with Janis and Damien though.

You feel a slight not in your stomach at the thought of Janis. She’d tried to call again this morning but you didn’t have the heart to answer in case more lies came tumbling out of your mouth, so instead you just sent back a quick text letting her know you’d call this evening and put your phone on silent.

You’re led to a door in the side of what looks like an oddly shaped hill which contains an intricate man-made cave system. Some of the group drop out saying they’re claustrophobic and don’t want to go through. It’s understandable, you wish you’d been given that option on the high ropes.

The instructor lets each group go through every 10 minutes to allow the first group to be a decent way through and avoid traffic. You end up behind the plastics in the queue again. It’s not exactly accidental. Hopefully Regina doesn’t notice this.

They go through first, you try not to make it too obvious where your gaze lands as Regina gets on her knees to crawl through the cave entrance. She’s wearing a pair of tight, black leather trousers and a pink tank top. It frames her body perfectly and you understand why most of the boys at school stare openly when she walks by. How are you only just noticing how hot she is now?

10 minutes later you’re instructed to go through. You crawl, squeeze and climb through the narrow passages of the cave. It’s pitch black, you have to use the head torch on your helmet to navigate.

It’s quite fun, you like the challenge. The further you get into the cave system, the harder some of the tunnels get. Some have passages you have to squeeze through sideways. Some you have to be on your stomach, sliding under. Every so often there are larger chambers you can have a break in and stand up fully. You slip through a narrow tunnel and into a larger chamber and your headlight catches a pair of eyes. You have to physically put your hand over your mouth to stop yourself screaming when you see a human figure cowering in the corner of the cave. You realize it’s Regina and she looks terrified. Her makeup has run slightly as if she’d been crying.

“Hey, are you okay?” You try softly, but Regina is shaking too much to respond. You crouch down to her level and try and meet her gaze.

“Where are Gretchen and Karen?” You ask. From what you can tell, they’re nowhere in sight and you can’t hear their chipper voices up ahead.

“They went on ahead.” She answers, her voice barely a whisper.

She glances over at the next tunnel, you can tell because her head torch illuminates the passage. It’s tight. Possibly the hardest one to get through so far. You move to look through and see another chamber with specks of light. This must be the final challenge.

“I’m pretty sure this is the final tunnel. I can see the light on the other side.” There’s no response from the blonde, she must be really scared.

Why did Karen and Gretchen just leave her like this? You know you wouldn’t have. Did Regina ask them to go ahead so they didn’t see she was this afraid? She doesn’t hide her fear in front of you, she eats with you and she laughs and plays geeky games with you. You guess she only agreed to go through to protect her reputation, it seems more than its worth keeping up her act.

“I can go first, then you follow and I’ll pull you through so you’re out quicker.” you say, standing to walk over to the tunnel and offering her your hand.

“Please don’t! you’re going to leave me here.” She cries, her lip is trembling. You wish you could comfort her better but you’re not sure what she’ll allow and you don’t want to push your luck.

“Regina, I promise I won’t leave you. I’ll crawl through and pull you out the other side. You just have to follow after me, I won’t let anything happen.”

“....You promise?” She whispers.

You take one of her hands

“I promise”

Her hand is so soft, just as you’d expect. Just how you’d expect the rest of her to feel. You squeeze her hand in encouragement before you bend down to crawl through the tunnel. Once you reach the last chamber you see there’s an exit door. You sigh in relief.

“Come through now, I’m at the other end, there’s a door here!” you shout, hoping she can hear you from the other side.

You hear shuffling from the end of the tunnel and bend down, ready to pull her through. As soon as she’s in arms reach you swiftly pull her out and she lets out a shaky breath. She quickly puts her arms around your neck in a gentle hug.

“Thank you”

Her breath tickles your neck and you’re overwhelmed by everything about her. You don’t move to reciprocate the hug, you’re still understandably wary after what happened and you don’t want to do anything that’d make her let go any faster.

And then she’s gone. When you leave the final chamber you see her back with Gretchen and Karen, subtly wiping her eyes to make sure nobody sees her smudged makeup. It’s impressive how quickly she can recover and put her mean girl act back on. You wonder how long she’d had to wear that mask.

You head back to the campfire pit for dinner, but you don’t bother going to eat anything. Regina had said she wanted dinner with you again. You couldn’t shake the thought that it felt like a date, but you couldn’t let yourself think like that. Regina had Boyfriends, and had already bullied Janis for her sexuality. You had to be more careful.

You wait for about 30 minutes after dinner at the campfire pit has ended. Regina doesn't show up. That serves you right for thinking Regina even thought of you as a friend, let alone thinking of your secret dinners as a date. You’re just there for her convenience.

You feel a squeezing sensation in your chest. Why did you let it bother you this much? You decide you need a distraction so go to the river close by the camp and ask one of the instructors if you can borrow a canoe. You’e allowed but you have to sign the boat out and make sure it’s returned within 3 hours. That’s fine, you want as much time away from the cabin as you can. Away from Regina’s stuff, away from her sweet vanilla scent, away from her giggle that still felt like it was trapped between the walls, away from Regina.

You take the Canoe to the edge of the river and lower it in, you hop down into the small boat and pick up the oar ready to set sail.

“Hey, what the fuck?” you hear a familiar voice yell.

All of your resolve to forget about her disappears when you see her at the bank, above your boat with her arms folded and one eyebrow raised. It’s intimidating.

“I saw you walk off earlier. What happened to dinner?” She scoffs “ Nobody stands me up, where are you going?”

“I didn’t think you were coming, I waited for half an hour.” you respond, you wish you could sound as confident as Regina but it just comes out as guilty, like a scorned puppy.

She drops down into the boat and sits facing you. Her eyes are challenging.

“I’m coming with you. I’m not allowed to go back to Karen and Gretchen’s cabins anyway.” That stings a little. So she’s not just spending time with you because she wants to.

“And I guess you’re not bad company.” She adds, rolling her eyes.

That makes your heart flutter and you hand her an oar and push off from the bank. You’re not sure where you’re going and Regina doesn’t really help row much. Luckily the flow of the river helps pull you downstream.

You’re not sure what possesses you but for a moment you forget who you’re in a boat with and dip your oar into the water, you pull it out fast and splash the blonde who is now looking at you with an incredulous expression.

“What the FUCK!” She screams as the cold water hits her.

You can’t help but laugh. It wasn’t a lot of water but you can see some droplets running down her cheeks. She growls in frustration and dips her hand in the river to splash you back.

You shriek at the sensation of sudden cold, but you’re still laughing. You see her lips curl in a smile too. You’re not sure if she’s laughing too or just proud she managed to get you back.

Unfortunately your oar can create a much bigger splash than her hand and this time you hit her with quite a lot of cold water to her chest, narrowly missing her face.

The look she gives you makes your knees weak and you regret the choice immediately.

Shit. You might have taken it too far.

She lunges for you, grappling for the oar. You lean left, trying to stretch the oar right out of her reach. Her body is sliding against yours, you can feel the cold patch where the water soaked into her top. Her face is millimeters from yours and you glance down at her lips. If you just moved forward a tiny bit your lips would meet, she probably tastes like vanilla too. She leans on the edge of the boat, inching forwards. Everything feels like it's moving in slow motion.

The weight of both of you on one side is just slightly too much and the canoe flips, dunking you both underwater. It’s freezing and makes you gasp when you breach the surface in a state of absolute shock. Regina splashes her way to the surface beside you, she’s gasping and her eyes are wide, black mascara dripping down her face.

A giggle erupts from your lips and it's not long before it's a full blown laughing fit. Regina giggles too, its a loose and carefree sound, it might be your favorite.

You swim over to her and flick some water at her, she squeals and throws some back your way. No use going easy now, you’re both soaked.

You manage to flip the canoe back over with some effort and both climb back in. You have no change of clothes and you’re both so cold your lips are turning blue so you decide to turn back.

“I’m so sorry I left you earlier. I didn’t think you were coming.” You chatter between shivers.

“I even stole these sandwiches from dinner for us, but I don't think we can eat them now.” She shudders back, pulling out two dripping wet sandwiches from her pocket. This makes you both burst into another giggling fit.

She shifts over to sit next to you and rests her head on your shoulder. Even though you’re soaked you feel your whole body heat up, especially your cheeks from the interaction. You rest your head on top of hers, surprised when she doesn’t pull away.

You make it back to the bank without going for another unexpected swim and tell Regina to go back to the cabin while you return the boating equipment. There’s no use in both of you staying freezing.

She’s already showered by the time you’re back and sitting on the edge of her bed. She gives you a shy smile and you dip into the bathroom to warm up. The water gives new life to your icy skin, as it washes down your face you can’t help but remember Regina’s soft lips just centimeters from yours. What would have happened if the boat hadn’t tipped? Probably nothing right? You’re just overthinking it.

As you start putting your pajamas on you notice your phone buzzing again. It's Janis. It’s reasonably late enough to pretend you're asleep so you swipe the screen to decline the call and put your phone in your pocket.

When you go back into the bedroom, Regina is under the covers, scrolling her phone but she sits up as soon as you come in.

“Hey, uh I wanted to say thanks for today.. you know, helping me, and I had fun.” She thinks for a moment. “Having fun with you is easy.” she adds with a small, sleepy smile.

“If I check my schedule I’m sure I can fit you in tomorrow evening.” You laugh, pretending to think over exaggeratedly.

She rolls her eyes with a smile.

“Goodnight Loser.” She yawns.

“Night Regina” You reply

Just as you’re about to lay down you hear a muffled voice from your pocket.

“What the fuck, are you talking to Regina?”

Shit.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ good one | thomas hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003 + 2006)

♡ characters; Thomas Brown Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; references to extreme violence, stockholm syndrome i suppose?, kidnapping

♡ notes; this was literally supposed to be porn but instead here’s some weird sappy stuff lol

anyways hopefully more fics soon, writers block and rehearsals have been a bitch and a half

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

It was a wonder you were still alive. That’s what you thought about, sitting and fidgeting in the strange bedroom with your ankle shackled. Was shackled the right word if it was tied with rope? Whatever. It didn’t matter. You were fairly certain you’d fall prey to the crazy folks running around the place soon enough. The group you’d hitched a ride with was already long gone- one you’d watched get shot point blank by the bullshit sheriff. The others….well, you heard the chainsaw and the screaming. It was an easy conclusion to come to, especially after you saw the bloody smears on the hardwood downstairs.

You weren’t sure why you hadn’t been hacked into bits yet. You’d been indistinguishable from the others- just another wandering twenty-something with tight clothes and next to no money. The only thing you could think of was that gas station. Your companions had been such dicks to the lady at the counter- of course you apologized to her. She’d been just as kind in return, she even snuck a candy into your bag of sodas and snacks. She was the one who’d sent you that way, towards the farm house.

You stilled, train of thought lost as you heard footsteps. Heavy and slow- they were somehow more intimidating than any angry stomping could have been. You curled your legs up defensively, eyes trained on the door. The person stood there more than a second, silent and just as still as you were holding. If you hadn’t been listening so intently, you would have thought they turned and walked away. But then there was some quiet mumbling- a woman’s voice, maybe?- and the door creaked open.

“Go on Tommy dear- I found a good one for you.”

You’d never seen a man so tall- with shoulders so broad or arms and torso so solid. He was massive. He was terrifying. And he was attractive. Once your eyes unglued themselves from his figure you finally took in the rest. Dark, thick shoulder-length waves. A mask that seemed useless as any sort of medical device thanks to the open mouth. Eyes that were dark but not brown. Maybe blue, maybe gray..maybe just pure black. Like a shark’s. In other circumstances you'd be reduced to a puddle on floor over him. But the bloodstains on his shirt didn’t go unnoticed.

You watched him closely, and he watched you just as alertly, stalking forward like some jungle cat…No. Wait. That wasn’t right. He didn’t look scared, but he was cautious, keeping some distance. Maybe a better allegory would be he looked like he was trying to corner a feral kitten- not wanting you to swipe or dart away. As if doing either was possible. You were frozen with fear, though found the courage to lean back a bit as he stepped forward. He grunted softly and persisted, nearly trembling as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

Love at first sight was a stupid fucking concept. That you’d always believe. Maybe something in you just broke that same moment, maybe you were just too exhausted to think even close to straight. Maybe both. But when you and this massive man locked eyes, there was an instant understanding. He was already yours- and more importantly, you’d be his. He just had to stake his claim.

“…you’re Tommy?” You practically whispered. He nodded quickly. You got a sense he didn’t speak much, but you told him your name in return and tried to think of anything to talk about to stall the inevitable. “…you killed those people?” You blurted for some godforsaken reason. He tensed, still hovering over you. “It’s okay.” You added quickly “I didn’t actually know them. They were kinda mean.”

He furrowed his brow just a bit and searched your face, for any signs that you were lying. Before he came to a conclusion, you gave a soft sigh, instinctively leaning into the hand that had raised your face to him. Something immediately softened about him, and he rubbed your cheek in awe. The sleepy giggle it caused seemed almost to startle him. It was like no one had ever been that soft with him. Maybe they hadn’t. “….this is your room right? Can we sleep?”

Tommy still seemed in shock but carefully nodded, undoing his apron and seeming at a loss of what to do next. He frowned a bit as he noticed your bindings and quickly undid the knot that kept you stuck there. His guard was down- you could try to run. But you didn’t want to. Doing so would only be tiring. You wanted to let go. So instead you smiled softly and simply opened your arms, letting him cuddle up with you. It took him a minute to get settled, and all the while treating you so delicately… like you were made of glass. He looked up at you, again searching your face in near confusion. He grunted in surprise as you pecked his forehead. His mama really did find him a good one.

[zarnzarn]

the angsty prequel to this (ik there's plotholes now but shh I'll fix it in a bit) that i accidentally made after getting possessed and writing for 3 hours straight for what was supposed to be a short hc post jfc. angst ahead (brain damage talk, temporary mcd), but there's a happy ending!

-

zeus saying he's going to make athena's "kingdom fall" doesn't make sense unless you consider. the lightning bolt she takes to the face gives her brain damage.

no one notices at first. Athena brushes it all off, goes to odysseus, oversees their long-awaited reunion. stays in their house after- because it's not like they'll be around forever, after all. and she can do her work just as well from down here- there's no need, to be honest, to go back to Mount Olympus. anyone who needs her comes to Ithaka, and she's content, for the first time in a very, very long time.

and then one day odysseus comes across her seizing on the floor.

she doesn't know the details of what happened- only remembers the first terrified scream of horror, remembers warm hands on her face and being carried to a bed, remembers Penelope's voice shaking as she drags a wet cloth across her forehead. comes to confused and mute minutes later, wandering around and stumbling into walls, unresponsive to the voices begging her to stop, to rest.

finally, she reaches a familiar room with a familiar face, and she touches Telemachus on the cheek lightly before collapsing onto the nearest chair. panicked voices chatter above her and calloused palms lift her face up to meet her own grey eyes, worried and scared, and it finally dawns on her that something has gone terribly wrong.

(later she will find out odysseus held her and sobbed the whole night, knowing more than anyone else what had happened to her and what it meant; he'd taken the throne at thirteen for the same reason, after all)

(later she will find out that penelope wrote to every ally they had within the hour for healers and literature; letting more than half their cleverly planned schemes fall through in exchange for it as she begged)

(later, she will find out that telemachus went running barefoot through the market, banging on doors and shouting for the healers and making the alarmed roused villagers sing prayers for her even though it was the middle of the night)

she recovers under the attention; court abandoned in favour of emergency, odysseus proclaims when he bullies her into placing her head in his lap so he can massage her aching head, not having left her side for six straight days in a row. penelope comes in every few hours, feeding her the olives from the wedding bed she lies in, unable to move, and brushes out her hair. telemachus barely shows during the days, but he comes in every evening without fail, curling up by her side and hugging her tight.

but it happens again. and again and again, and each time she regains consciousness in one of the royal family's arms, no matter where she was at the time. she never remembers it, only has the disgusting taste in her mouth and dried spit on her chin and tears in the eyes of those around her to know it happened.

she loses time as well- has no idea how long it's been happening until she becomes aware of the sound of Odysseus' calm, steady voice dragging her out of a trance, gentle fingers tracing her palm as they stand next to an unassuming tapestry. she'll be walking one moment and be lost to everything around her the next, staring at nothing.

Odysseus has done this all before, she realises one day, when he seamlessly pulls her out of another relapse and ropes her into a cheerful, easy conversation about goats that Athena keeps having stilted replies to.

"Do you know how to do this because-" She murmurs, and his eyes go wide and then grieving.

"Yes," He murmurs sadly, and Athena feels guilt settle in her belly at making him go through this again. He massages at her temples, and she closes her eyes, listening to the smile in his voice. "But there is no hardship, Pallas Athena. The sadness is that you have to go through this, not for the taking care of a cherished one."

"And anyways, Laertes suffered madness in the wake of a terrible fever and the stress of a famine," Penelope says without looking up from the newest scrolls they'd received. Athena feels the guilt worsen at the sleep bags under her eyes, when she knew the reason and just didn't have the courage to- "Your sudden collapses could be due to this one witch curse we found, or perhaps a-"

"It was Zeus."

The room falls silent as two heads slowly turn to look at her.

"What?" Odysseus says quietly, with barely withheld rage.

Athena takes a shuddering breath. "I am sorry, my Penelope, that I didn't have the courage to tell you before." Penelope leaves the desk to cross the room to her, and Athena feels tears prick at her eyes as the queen takes her hand. "But when I petitioned the court of Olympus, Zeus did not take kindly to everyone agreeing to me over him- and such was his punishment. To make-"

Her breath hitches in a sob and she notes with surprise that she's crying. Penelope and Odysseus are both crying with her, staring down in horror.

"To make my kingdom fall, he said," Athena whispers, shoulders jerking oddly as she forces it out, acknowledges what he'd done. "But my kingdom is the mind and-"

Odysseus lets out an animal cry of sorrow and descends on her, pulling her to his chest as she breaks down into shivering tears, the fear running through her as she realises the scale, the enormity of the consequences. Penelope stands by the bed and trembles with anger for a full minute, before she crumples too, crawling into their bed and pressing Athena tight between them.

"I forget things," She confesses in a whisper, shaking. "I blank out during fights, cannot recall certain strategies- I- I do not know how much worse-"

"Easy, darling, easy," Penelope whispers in a rush, stroking her face. Odysseus really is so lucky to have her as a wife, she thinks disjointedly, pressing into the gentleness. "Don't say that. It won't get worse."

"And even if it does," Odysseus continues, pressing a kiss to her cheek, where the lichtenberg scars cross her right eye, to her brow. "We will write down everything you know, copy it a hundred times and keep it safe. So you will never forget."

"And we will find you a Lytrakas owl, to keep you safe when we are no longer here to do it," Penelope murmurs, lips brushing Athena's neck as she speaks. She relaxes finally under the combined reassurances, at the solutions and possibilities that would work, finding a content she has never achieved before in their embrace. "We will keep you safe, our goddess."

And they do. When she teaches the children of Ithaka sparring, at least one of them is there, ready to intervene smoothly if they sense something wrong. They make the books they promised her, and she sends it to her realm, so she doesn't lose them. They cannot come with her when she has to travel- she wouldn't ask it of any of them- but Telemachus is always humming a hymn when she's away so she remembers where to return. When she dissociates in the middle of talking, Penelope guides her over to the loom so she can weave until she feels better, muscle memory kicking in enough for it to help the gradual lift of the fog.

Odysseus always somehow knows when she's about to have a seizure, in the forty years after that they spend together. In all her time in Ithaka, she never woke up from one without the familiar gravely cadence of Odysseus singing under his breath above her, head in his lap and Telemachus perched on her thighs or Penelope by her shoulders.

-

But it can't last forever.

Odysseus kicks her out of the room when he dies, Penelope's breath already slowing on the bed behind him, peaceful in the way that means she won't survive the night. They all know Odysseus will go with her, and Athena feels herself tremble as Odysseus gently guides her outside.

"You are not watching us pass," He tells her firmly, as she opens her mouth to scream at him. He's an old man now, but his eyes are the same, and the different versions of him flash in front of her eyes as he gives her a crooked smile. "I will not have you watch, are you crazy?"

"Odysseus," She chokes out, gripping tight onto her spear.

"My beautiful, wonderful goddess," Odysseus murmurs adoringly, leaning up to press their foreheads together. She sobs. "Thank you. For everything. And know-" His breath hitches. "-know that, for the rest of your existence, remember it- that you were loved."

"How can I ever forget?" She smiles back through the tears. "I will never be the same."

"My Athene," He whispers, swaying them back and forth. She closes her eyes, trembling, and pulls him into their last embrace, last touch.

"You will always be my favourite," She confesses, half-laugh, half-sob.

Odysseus smirks at that, a trace of smugness, then turns to a sobbing, chuckling Telemachus, who's also been kicked out, pulls them both in a hug. "We will meet again, my son," he murmurs. "But Penelope is waiting for me now. Goodnight."

He closes the door, two bright last flashes of smiles aimed at them as it shuts and Athena and Telemachus both fall to pieces.

Telemachus takes twice the care of her than his parents did, somehow juggling ruling the kingdom and spending as much time as he can with her as he can. His wife is sly and mischievous, more fox than owl- but Athena loves her too, just as she loves their children. Telemachus goes with a smile on his face and an arrow in his heart, having taken an arrow for someone else, holding Athena's hand as he laughs for the last time.

It is horrible and she wanders around desolately for days, grieving. But then she sees bright eyes spying on her from behind a bush, carefully watching her to see if she's alright and Athena smiles and goes back to continue the legacy.

-

For 500 years, Ithaka does not fall- when it does, she makes sure the grey-eyed children all make it off the island, scattering on the mainland as at last, her job is done.

Which means there is nothing left for her here, and it is time to go back to Mount Olympus.

She's met with teasing quips and pointed comments, but general ignorance, no one bothering to ask where she was. After almost six hundred years of care, it feels untethering and strange, but the grief of losing Ithaka makes her relieved for it, even if she has to lie down sometimes, press her face into the roots of the olive tree scattered about in her realm and pretend there are three sets of hands in her hair, a familiar voice humming above her.

How did you do it, she wants to ask Penelope. How did you survive knowing what you were missing, she wants to ask Odysseus. Will you sit with me one last time, she wants to ask Telemachus.

Eventually, she can no longer bear the quiet, and one evening she sets out and crosses the pantheon floor to go gently sit down in Apollo's room.

Artemis is there, slouched on the floor with mud in her hair and an arrow in her eye as Apollo chides her. They both look up when she comes in, bowing and worriedly asking if something was wrong.

"Nothing," she says, ignoring the pang of sadness that that would be the only reason she was here. But the idea of leaving back to the books written in Odysseus' horrible chickenscratch penmanship is worse, and she takes a tentative seat in the corner. "Continue your work."

They do so hesitantly, conversation slower and interspersed with bouts of asking her if she wanted ambrosia or a new dish or something while she was here. She declines.

She feels awkwardness radiating off all three of them as she leaves an hour later, but it doesn't stop her from coming back again, stubborn. She will hold a conversation this time- it has been two decades since Ithaka, but that is nothing to her, and she cannot have forgotten how so soon.

Apollo seems to have prepared for the same thing this time, lighting up with a pleased grin like he wasn't sure she would come. "Enter!" He says cheerfully. "Come here, give me your wisdom on this piece I've been composing- I know, I know, owls are not songbirds, but just see if you can help, it's driving me mad-"

Athena closes her mouth and listens to the melody quietly. Thinks about how Telemachus' third daughter would have spun it, added her Ithakan folk style to it, interspersed the perfection with carefree, imperfect beats.

"May I?" She asks, holding her hands out, and Apollo's mouth drops, even as he scrambles to hand her the lyre. She concentrates, trying to pull the melody out from the strings. "Here," she says, manifesting her spear and shield and handing it to an increasingly wild-eyed Apollo. "Bang them together. Create a tempo."

They create something of a passing song in the next few hours until Athena's headache makes its way to the forefront and she has to retreat. Apollo accompanies her across the floor to her room, pressing herbs onto her even as he chatters a mile a minute, excitedly going on and on about new ideas and begging Athena to come by again. She smiles, briefly, and promises to return when she is free, going back to her pallet under the olive trees.

(She cannot bear to sleep anywhere else.)

The next day, Apollo is busy creating new songs and she knows better than to disturb him. She turns and goes to his twin's realm instead, shedding her armour for bark and a bow. Artemis and her women look as equally terrified as Apollo did at the start, looking at her like she's lost her mind, but they all straighten up when Athena raises an eyebrow and silently descend on the night.

"You must teach me!" Artemis enthuses at the end of it. She does not do anything other than scowl often, but she looks more like her twin than ever now, as she beams up at her. "I never knew there were so many strategies, how much smoother-"

"Peace," Athena chuckles, amused. "I will teach you, sister. Next fortnight?"

"Aye," Artemis says, hair matted and covered in filth, eyes sparkling.

"Here," Athena says, taking out her own ribbon- one of the many she has from Penelope, braided in her hair from all those years ago- and turns Artemis around to tie her mess of a mane out of her eyes. "Do not impede your vision in the name of wildness."

"Okay," Artemis squeaks quietly, and Athena snorts and squeezes her shoulder as she departs.

She sits in Aephastus' forge next, watching him create weapon after weapon, with the best of each round being blessed onto a blacksmith in the mortal world.

"Come to see if my work is up to par, Pallas Athena?" Aephastus says self-deprecatingly, a flash of resigned hurt in his eyes.

"No. I wish to learn," Athena decides suddenly, pushing herself up and removing her helmet at the blast of heat that comes from the forge as she nears. "It is shameful, I think, that I know not how my own tools are made."

Aephastus stares at her with surprise, then his kind eyes crinkle into a smile. "Only if you let me replace that," He nods to her admittedly rather dented helmet. "I have been wanting to fix your armour to something respectable for centuries."

Athena laughs.

Of course, once it is done, she has to use it. It fills her with excitement she had almost forgotten, the idea of a good, difficult spar, and she barges into Aphrodite's realm and bangs on the edge of the bed with her new spear, making the occupants screech and jump in fright.

"Good evening," She nods at Aphrodite, who looks to the side and then back at her as if she'll find an explanation somehow, stunned. She turns to her brother, and tries on a grin. "Ares, my brother. Would you care to spar? Aephastus has gifted me this new set and I find myself eager to test it out."

"...Are you fucking possessed?" Ares asks her, flabbergasted, and she clicks her tongue and smacks him upside the head.

"Yes or no?" She says, crossing her hands.

"Y- yes, yes!" Ares blurts out, straightening up. He looks something approaching disbelieving excitement, a small, tentative grin appearing on his face. "You are... not joking, right?"

"Do I look like I joke?" Athena jokes, smiling. Ruffles his hair in a bout of fondness. "You are the only one who will actually give me a good fight, as erratic as you are. I look forward to it."

"What did I FUCKING MISS?" Aphrodite shrieks after her as she goes. "Wha- Athena, get back here, you better have not fallen in love while I wasn't looking-!"

But Athena's not ready to face Aphrodite just yet, so she takes advantage of their height difference and strides back to her realm as her sister chases her, shouting.

The next day, they meet in the arena, and Athena feels herself freeze up as soon as she steps in. Sees the lightning scorch marks on the ground she had almost forgotten, and cannot move.

"ATHENA!" Ares booms, snapping her out of it. "TODAY YOU WILL MEET YOUR DEFEAT AT MY HANDS AT LAST!"

"WHY ARE YOU SO ANNOYING," She shouts back automatically, and Ares bursts out in a peal of laughter, surprised out of him. She knows he has three aspects- the boyish glory-seeker, the soldier filled with bloodlust, the hardened warrior- but Athena thinks the first one suits him best.

He readjusts his grip on his sword and grins. "Begin!"

-

She continues this, finding a strange happiness she never had before in meeting all the other gods, major and minor. She'd never known how intimidated they all were by her, but they open up readily enough, bringing her peace for a little while as she sits with them.

(She avoids Aphrodite, who is getting increasingly more frazzled by the day as she fails to find a hidden lover that does not exist and then switches to trying to find Athena a companion when it is clear that there is no one, in a comic game of chase around the realms that is a great source of amusement to everyone else.

She avoids Hermes too, because it hurts too much to see him. But she leaves him a book of riddles once in a while, when he's away, and he always takes it.)

Hera walks in her room one day, with her train of peacocks and attendants.

"God-Queen," Athena bows, setting her weaving down.

"Athena," Hera nods back. "I hear you have been visiting your siblings."

Athena nods, confused. "Yes?"

Hera studies her and Athena shifts, wondering what she's seeing. "The Pantheon is no longer silent, you know. The Olympians meet in the court almost every day, sharing their gifts with each other. Something I have found out is because of you."

Athena has no idea where this is going.

Hera shifts closer, opening her mouth to say something, then her eyes catch on the weaving, widening in shock. "What is that?"

Athena looks down, also unaware of what exactly she'd made. Then her heart skips a beat in fear.

"No, no, no, no," Athena snaps to her feet, shaking her hands out in dismissal, trying to stop the impending damage. "This is not what you think it is."

Hera's eyes are getting wider and wider, a manic grin on her face. "Athena! A wedding veil? Do you-"

"No!" Athena interrupts. "No, Hera, it's nothing like that, please-"

"Nonsense!" Hera says, grabbing it from her and holding it to the light, grinning wider than Athena has seen from her in years. "You must have made it for a reason. Do not worry daughter, I know you are shy, I will handle it all."

"Hera, it really is not like that!" She pleads. "I was simply weaving- I made a fisherman's garb the other day as well, it does not mean I want to get out into the sea!"

"Have you made the rest of the outfit as well?" Hera says excitedly, ignoring her as she moves to the wardrobe to rifle through. "Oh, Athena, how beautiful! Is this what you would like to wear?"

She pulls out a men's wedding outfit and Athena stops protesting to stare in disbelief. When had she made that?

"I must go announce this to the others," Hera squeals, bangles jangling. "Oh, I had almost given up on you, dear, but you have made me so happy today! I would have arranged something for you so long ago, why didn't you tell me you were interested?"

"Because I am not," She groans, pulling her hands down over her face. "Hera, please, I do not even have anyone-"

"Easily remedied," Hera dismisses her with the wave of a hand as she strides off. "Oh Aphrodite, you won't believe what I just found in your sister's closet! Look!"

A deafening din rises from the crowd there and Athena is forced to tackle Hera to the ground.

She laughs, surprisingly, and tosses the outfit over to Aphrodite, who snatches it up with a scream of excitement. Athena is immediately flanked by a crowd of screaming gods, each talking over the other, and Athena has to bellow at them all for two hours before the misunderstanding is cleared.

"Oh, but you really have outdone yourself with this one," Aphrodite gushes appreciatively as she lands next to a panting Athena. She turns it back and forth. "So soft, and such patterns! The Ithakan style, yes?"

Then her smile drops like a stone as she hears her own words and freezes, and Athena's stomach swoops, heart skipping a beat as she stops breathing. Aphrodite turns to her slowly, cold horror in her eyes, realisation solidifying at the terrified, raw, pained expression on Athena's face.

"The Ithakan style," She repeats in a whisper, horrified grief creeping into her voice. "Athena-"

Athena snatches the outfit from her and closes herself off in her realm, breathing hard in the dim blue light of the olive tree orchard. She suddenly realises she's holding the robes against her chest and unfolds it hurriedly to look at them.

It is the Ithakan style. It is, in fact, a mix of Penelope's and Odysseus' wedding outfits, in her size.

She throws it into a trunk and screams.

-

She does not know if Aphrodite tells Hera, but the latter does not stop coming by every day to pester her for details of an imaginary wedding.

So now she has three gods to avoid.

-

But of course, the effects of her affliction cannot be hidden forever. She gets up one day from the Pantheon floor to retrieve the threads from her room to be used in the game they are playing, and feels the room swim in a familiar, hated manner, and she only has a moment to feel dread before she tilts sideways and falls.

When she regains consciousness, she feels for a moment the delicate hands on her cheeks, the weight of a young man on her belly, the gravely singing above her- and then it dissipates and she becomes aware of shouting all around her.

"Can you hear me? Athena, can you hear me?" Hera says, shaking her. "WILL SOMEONE FIND APOLLO?"

Athena moans and pushes off the hands on her body, bruising in their panic. She pushes herself up, ignoring the dizziness. "Do not bother."

"Athena, what on Gaia was that?" Ares demands, ashen. "Have I injured you? What-"

"It is of no concern," Athena snaps, getting to her feet and glaring at them, mortification blazing through her. "All I need is rest. Goodnight."

They shout after her, but she's already at her room, closing the shields back up. It nearly knocks her out again to do so, and she barely drags herself to her bed before she collapses.

"What are you staring at?" Hypnos asks her the next day, confused. Athena blinks and realizes she's standing between the thrones, facing an odd patch of wall and losing time.

"Nothing," She sighs, and hefts her spear and walks away.

She fends off all other questions, curt and snapping, and the others uneasily let it go. She has not forgotten her purpose, after all, and will not do anything less than a perfect job, even with this impediment.

Yet-

"Athena," Aphrodite shakes her, and Athena blinks as she comes to herself. It is night, Pantheon bathed in blue and both of them in their nightclothes. Aphrodite is crying and Athena's face is wet.

"What-?" She murmurs.

"You were calling out for Odysseus," Aphrodite whispers, sounding stricken. "Asking him to stop hiding from training. Then laughing with nothing and telling Penelope to stop tormenting your allies."

It hits her straight in the sternum, making her gasp with grief that hits her so hard it feels new, and oh, she misses them, she misses them, she misses them so.

She sobs, and Aphrodite brings her close, holding her as she shakes.

"What is happening, sister? Why is this happening? Please, tell us," Aphrodite pleads. "We only want to help." She pushes her back to stare at her. "It cannot be just for them- something else happened to you."

Athena cannot reply for weeping, and Aphrodite's face crumples on seeing her tears. "You loved them." She says, her own voice catching tears. "You loved them so much, didn't you? That's who the dress was for. Them."

Athena sobs louder and doesn't reply.

-

Zeus' eldest daughter has not talked to him for over eight hundred years.

He still burns with anger some days, on remembering her insolence, her disrespect for his orders. Yet, now it has cooled off and he rather misses her quiet presence, her wit. She is angry with him in turn, cold and formal when they talk, never meeting his eyes.

"How fares Athena?" He asks casually one day. Hera stops removing her earrings and looks up at him sharply- she's been frosty with him since that day as well, disapproving of his actions. "I have not seen her in quite some time."

"That is of your own design," Hera replies blandly. "She spends time often with her siblings now. I am quite proud of her for it, actually- it is no mean a feat to get the entire Pantheon to sit down and indulge in few games without bloodshed."

"Games?" Zeus frowns. "With the others? Why is this the first I'm hearing of it?"

"Well, if you left your realm ever, you would know." Hera says distractedly, shrugging as she takes off her necklace. "They gather in the courtroom, usually."

The wind blows in, blows out.

Zeus ponders on this in silence, thinking of what to do next. Perhaps he should extend the first hand, since she had followed all the rules. He remembers her on the ground, beaten and burning, one hand extended to beg him to let that insolent hero she had pinned all her hopes on leave Ogygia. Frowns again in discomfort at the memory.

Her gamble paid off. Even as the Greek Pantheon declined in power, the story of her hero persisted to give the gods power, to keep them remembered.

Wise Athena, he thinks fondly. Smarter than him, he can admit now.

Zeus is just about to ask Hera if Athena would appreciate a spar when the rustle of fabric past the door of their realm catches his attention.

"Who is there?" He calls out, and Hera turns as well to look. No one enters and they both look to each other with a frown.

Quick footsteps sound out and both of them push themselves to their feet immediately, armed and tense as they rush to the door.

"Athena?" Hera calls out, confused, as they look down over the empty courtroom, Athena pacing erratically silently alone in the middle, no lights on. She does not reply. "Athena!"

Zeus feels foreboding creep up on him as they carefully walk down. "What are you doing up, Athena?" He calls out, voice authoritative. Hera glares at him, and he amends his tone, gentling it. "Is something the matter?"

Athena does not stop walking, at that same hurried pace, turning around at the end of the hall and continuing back towards them, ignoring his words. Zeus feels irritation spark, but the sudden glimpse of his daughter's eyes makes the words die on his tongue, unseeing and glazed over. She does not have her armour on, and her hair is tangled and open, he suddenly realises, along with the growing certainty that something is wrong.

And then Athena drops to the ground and starts seizing.

"ATHENA!" They scream as one, and all the gods of the Pantheon come awake, lamps catching fire as they all come stumbling out of their rooms and realms. Zeus reaches out and holds her hands down as she starts clawing at herself, drawing blood. The others start shouting and crying around them, Athena's head snapping back and forth gruesomely, eyes bleeding ichor. "Athena, gather yourself!" He shouts at her. "Cease this- cease this at once, you are stronger than this!"

"She cannot hear you!" Hera cries, falling to her other side, trying to straighten Athena out from the fetal position she is curling into with painful, stuff jerks. "She never does- she doesn't-"

"This has happened before?" Zeus bellows, outraged. His answer comes in the form of Ares pulling her weapons off her body, the ones who can't help holding onto each other and hiding their faces in each other's shoulders or staring at Athena with fear as they sob.

Her arm slips Zeus' grip and swings at him erratically before he can grab it again. It nearly knocks him down, so powerful in its animal madness that he actually feels his aspect waver to half its size for a moment- but he is her father and he pulls himself together enough to stay standing, pinning her down again.

"No, let her go!" Apollo shouts as he sits down besides them in his night robes, flipping through an old book of some kind, barely holding in his own panic and fear. "Don't hold her down, give her space."

Zeus grimaces but lets her go, feeling nausea and fear rise within him as she writhes and twists, unhearing of Hera's desperate sobs for her to stop. "What is happening to her?" He demands, unable to watch. He is furious, lightning blazing in his hands as he itches to find the culprit, to find who dared to do this. "Who did this to her?"

"I do not know," Apollo says horrifically, lips pressed thin, eyes flicking up to her and then back down to the book. "But I found this in her realm- she apparently is aware of it, this is some sort of book of instructions on the affliction-"

"Give me that," Zeus growls, snatching it away, and flipping through it. "Go get a bed," He instructs, the other Olympians springing up to do so immediately, desperate to help. "Olive- olive branches, she wakes to branches. Get water- no, get ambrosia, get a cloth to wipe her face. A change of clothes. A cold compress, if she has fever. It will stop on its own, let it run its course- Muses, what is this?"

"A lullaby," Euterpe says, pulling the book down to scan it. "From old Ithaka, if I'm not mistaken."

The gods all stop and stare at her. "Ithaka?" Zeus repeats, flipping to the front of the book. "Who has written this-"

"PENELOPE!" Athena screams suddenly, making them all jump in fright. Her back arches to a painful degree, spit running down the side of her mouth as her eyes roll back in her head. "PENELOPE, TELEMACHUS-"

Aphrodite puts her hands over her ears and squeezes her eyes shut, just as Athena takes a deep breath in and screams louder than before, "ODYSSEUS!"

(In life, he had only failed her once. But now he is dead, and cannot come.)

"Odysseus, please," She moans, in the old Greek that has not been used in decades. "You promised to help, please- Penelope, where are- where is- Telemachus, please-"

Zeus feels his heart break as proud, strong Athena breaks down on the floor, calling for mortals clearly much dearer to her than they thought. But it's not the end of it- he flips through the book again, desperately searching for something to stop this, a cause, an enemy- and then he sees his own name.

Curse proud Zeus, may his life never be happy, may his legacy forever be tainted, Odysseus has written, the letters harsh and burning with fury, even though the curse means nothing from a mortal, even though he risked the ire of the gods writing it. Below it, in what must be Penelope's neat handwriting, an equally furious and clipped diagnosis is penned- brain damage, extensive but occasional, caused by a lightning bolt to the face, that targeted her realm's power and left her with seizures, memory loss and dissociation.

A lightning bolt to the face.

Zeus stands there numbly, as the Pantheon scrambles and chatters worriedly around him, hesitantly singing along to the lullaby in the book as Athena continues to shake, unresponsive. His fault. It is his fault that she is like this, that she is left reduced to calling for dead mortals, crying blood over her siblings' feet.

He did not mean to, he thinks, feeling small and pathetic and monstrous. He did not mean for this to happen- only wanted to teach her a lesson, keep his pride; had not meant for her realm to sustain damage for so long. He thought she'd healed. He thought she hadn't been hurt, past the scar on her face that he'd felt vaguely guilty about, from time to time.

How stupid he was.

"Athena," He whispers, aching to reach out, but she screams again and it's drowned out completely. His daughter. All his own, no longer his- because she was never angry at all, these past years; she simply no longer saw him as her father. And why should she, when he has done the unforgivable, when he has done what no other had managed to do, and broken her.

What has he done?

"We are here," Hera says desperately, taking Athena's head in her lap. Ares sings creakily next to her, offtune and shaking. "We are here, love."

"Odysseus," Athena wails, unseeing. "Penelope, Telemachus."

Zeus steps back to let the others rush in, each providing their own solutions, some calling to Athena entreatingly to guide her back to herself. He is not needed here- he does not deserve it, and knows not what more damage he will wreak.

I am sorry, he wants to tell her, as froth escapes her mouth like a rabid dog. I am so sorry, I beg forgiveness, my daughter, please let me fix it.

But she cannot hear him and Zeus raises his head to look for Hermes instead. The messenger god is standing at the very back, well out of view, with a blank face as he meets Zeus' gaze. He feels a surge of fury at the lack of caring, before he remembers that Athena's hero and his son were descendants of Hermes- and sees past the facade to see the other's gods multiplied distress at that fact, unable to come forward to help without possibly making it worse with the likeness.

Zeus inclines his head and then tilts it towards Hades pointedly. Hermes twitches in surprise, then nods determinedly, running off.

Zeus exhales and looks back at Athena as she finally calms, breathing hard. Shoulders slump in relief, frightened muttering taking its place- this wasn't supposed to happen to gods, to Olympians.

Zeus steps forward and brushes her hair out of her eyes as Athena loses consciousness, as they pull her onto a makeshift palanquin and prepare to take her to her room.

"I am sorry," He whispers to her, but it is far, far too late.

[whiteeyes-is-a-mad-scientist]

False volcano

The skywings have been claiming the mountain near them has become a volcano. Saying that the nightwing volcano must have woken it up... highly doubtful to me, but when the tremors began the rumor grew more widespread... Which is why im now in this cave.

Toad stuffed the scroll back in his bag as the mountain shook again. He managed to pin pont the exact mountain the tremors were comming from. So far it was just a boring old mountain.

"You hear that? She says youll be released soon." The voice shouted with a nervous chuckle. Toad hesitated before following the voice.

"I... I was so worried she wouldnt believe me and she'd have me killed..." The voice continued as Toad curled around the dark stone corners. His thick mudwing scales scraping against them, the heat was rising. "Imagine what we can do once your out... Like we can go flying and hunting and and you gotta see some of the festivals!" the dragon stopped falling into a coughing fit.

The cave opened up... suffocating smoke filled the belly of the mountain. Chains scattered the walls all connected to somthing in the middle. It would shift and send a chorus of clangs echoing off the walls. Claw marks of varying sizes lined the walls among charred bones and ash.

Toad crept further out trying to see what was behind the smoke.... A dragon... a giant one...

He struggled to hold himself up from the weight of the chains. Anywhere he places his talons melted, even the mountain itself. He shifted toward the ant like form of the other dragon, a wing flew over toads head sending smoke swirling past. Toad bit his tongue to prevent himself from coughing.

"I cant wait..." His voice hissed. his tongue flicked out running it over his teeth "I need to stretch my wings and get this rope off..." his neck and wings were squished into the mountain. To toad this cave was giant but to him it was a cramped cage. "revenge will be sweet I promise you that little brother..."

The dragon below gave a whimper "I wish you wouldnt think of revenge. Let them ruin themselves... the war certainly isnt going in her favor.." The large dragon reared up, he slammed his wings and talons into the mountain. The treamors... it was him...

"Dont you DARE tell me what to do." He roared, another tremor, his jaws struggled against the rope "Once im free I will do what ive been wanting to do for CENTURIES..." The small dragon whined and whimpered apologies under him. The large dragon gave a sigh, rolling his eyes "but I also wish to hang out with you...I have plans but I do wish to catch up on our lost dragonet years..."

Toad had many questions. How could a dragon of his size stay hidden. How was he burning so much? Why dont his ropes or chains burn? but he was also terrified... he needed to leave. now.

Toad turned to escape but the large dragon moved his wing, it slammed into toad. Toad heaved as the wind left his lungs, he stumbled to catch himself in the air. The two whipped around to face the eavsdropper. Toad froze. It was like starring into the sun.

"Who whos that?" The small one yelped

The large dragon opened their mouth as much as they could with a hiss "An unlucky visitor..."

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Nanny!reader finding out she preggo after the meeting in his office and has to tell overlord husk🫢

✨drama✨

A/n: The reader freaking out for no reason, meanwhile it is what Husk wanted. I apologize for not adding a lot of drama

Pregnant...you were pregnant. You did not know if you should feel terrified, happy or scared. Moving your hand's to your belly you didn't even know how to react to this news.

Would he be happy about this? I mean he already has kids, would he want more? Or would he just toss you aside?

What if he thought you were like his ex? Just using him to want something. Sighing you wrapped your arms around your belly falling back on the bed.

"What am I going to do?"

Resting his cheek on his palm, Angel Dust couldn't believe he let himself get roped into this situation but you were his friend, he had to do this for you.

Wincing, he tried to not flinch as one of Husk's kits yanked at his cheek. "Aren't ya gonna check on the Nanny."

He knew the kits were getting restless, that they missed you.

Husk scoffed as he played with the cards in his hand, he didn't know if he should be pissed at himself or you?

No it wasn't you, he could never be mad at you.

"They don't wanna see me so why should I even bother."

It's been week's since he's last seen you, since you two have become intimate but he wasn't about to go and bother you.

Gritting his teeth, Angel Dust let out another yelp as he placed one of the kits down on the poker table. He was getting sick of this shit. "She's pregnant you idiot!" His eyes went wide as he placed his palm over his mouth. "You did not hear that?"

Placing the cards on the table, a large grin formed on Husk's face, his fang's poking through his lips. "Pregnant? So that's why they been avoiding me? Well I'll make sure they got nothin to be afraid of."

"What! Where the hell you goin?"

Waving him off, Husk slipped his coat over his body."Watch the kits, I gotta get my Queen."

Sighing, Angel eyed the three kits, all of them blinking up at him. "Well you're gonna get a mommy."

Jolting awake, a small yelp escaped your lips until you finally realized who was hovering over you.

"Husk, why are you here?"

Grinning, Husk pulled you into his chest. One of his claws gliding down your back. "I came here to get my Queen."

"W-what?" You looked up at him in disbelief as Husk nuzzled his nose into your neck, his fangs sinking into your skin licking your mark.

"You got me thinking that you hated me beautiful, I never thought you'd be pregnant with my kits."

Feeling your cheeks warm, you pressed your face into his chest as you clutched his tie tightly. "So you're happy?"

"More than happy love."

[lets-try-some-writing]

Since you said Jack sometimes does a whistle to purposely get Arcee’s attention and Miko would try to, would these two take advantage of other human things bots don’t yet understand how it works? Like Jack telling Arcee that if Arcee don’t take him on a drive he might start aging much faster from being upset, and Miko telling Bulkhead that her brain will downgrade and go numb if she don’t get enough stimulation.

Oh heck yeah. The kids would absolutely abuse the bots relative lack of education and make the best of it.

Jack is by far one of the nicest in his manipulations and generally keeps it to things such as having Arcee take him to see cool new places with the groundbridge because, quote: "A human adolescent who doesn't travel and experience new things will have their brains begin to rot and turn into creatures we call ghouls."

Arcee has no clue what a human ghoul is, but she knows the stories of ghouls back on Cybertron. Flesh eating creatures that devour not only energon, but also organs and pieces of the frame. The idea that a young human may turn into something like that absolutely terrifies her, at least if that human were to be Jack. She makes it a point to take Jack out once a week with her on patrols around the globe in order to protect him from that fate. Ratchet and Optimus are fully aware of the fact that Jack is full of slag when it comes to that particular tidbit, but they let it be since it gets Arcee out of the base.

Miko abuses the ever loving crap out of the bots ignorance. She has firmly made Bulkhead believe that if she isn't allowed to fight, her instincts will deteriorate and she will become braindead. Bulkhead, terrified of that outcome, has now been forced to set up sparring sessions for Miko to compensate for lack of actual combat. Wheeljack for his part has been roped into believing that if Miko isn't allowed to use weaponry and train with it, she will quite literally become thin as a reed since humans need tools to grow (her words, not the wreckers). Smokescreen has also reached a point of fanaticism when it comes to one of Miko's ploys. She told him one time that if she doesn't get at least one lollipop a day, her blood sugar will drop and she will fall into a coma. Smokescreen carries around a bag of candy just to be safe.

Rafael is a little nicer, but he will fight for more screen time by making it clear to Bumblebee that computer lights actually help improve his vision. The more computer light he gets, the better his vision will be temporarily. Bumblebee doesn't know how that is supposed to work, but humans are weird. So he just kinda... lets Rafael abuse his computer rights in base since it supposedly does good things for his eyes. Ratchet hasn't caught on yet. Ratchet also hasn't figured out that Rafael is totally playing him when he asks Ratchet for stories in order to help him retain his memory. Rafael has woven quite that tale that essentially boils down to him needing stories in order to keep his memory top notch. Ratchet hasn't figured out its a bunch of slag yet.

Optimus is one of the few bots no one can pull any fast ones on...

Except Fowler

Fowler has convinced Optimus that he should be allowed to drive Optimus's alt-mode at least once a month in order to keep his joints from withering away. Optimus has wondered why Fowler can't use another vehicle to work his joints, but Fowler always says its easier with Optimus just because if his joints give out, Optimus will be there to help him out.

Optimus questions this logic more and more when Fowler urges him to drive FAR over the speed limit on back roads.

[lizzy06]

Tamaki Amajiki x Reader Fics Recs!! (Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)

My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist

His Sun ✨✨💖by alkhale (oneshot, fluff, humor) "I-I've always thought you're like the sun!" Your laugh hits his ears and you smile, bright and shining. "Is that supposed to be a bad pick-up line, Mr. Suneater?" [COMPLETED]

DoubtPt1 |Part 2| Part 3✨✨💖 by @onyxiana-is-obsessed (soulmate au, fluff) Everyone in the world has a soulmate and Tamaki Amajiki is no different. The thing is, he’s terrified to meet or talk to his soulmate because he’s scared they could a villain. That is… until he’s finally able to talk to you. [COMPLETED]

Roses and Butterflies ✨by @tamabbyboi (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) Soulmate au! In a world where whatever you write on your skin shows up on that of your soulmate, you and Tamaki fall in love via marker and make the perfect pair. [COMPLETED]

“if you ate pussy does th-” “y/n do no finish that sentence” ✨✨ by @bakugohoex (oneshot, fluff)in which you had been shot by a quirk that makes you say your thoughts aloud, the big three come to class 1a, you’re long time crush and friend tamaki gets made to answer questions and you stupidly raise your hand. [COMPLETED]

silent admirer | tamaki amajiki x reader ✨by madaraxwbu (fluff, angst, smut)what's tamaki to do when he realises that he's falling in love with one of the most popular girls in school? [COMPLETED]

Blissful Contact✨ by feelingthorny (fluff, eventual smut)He was often nervous, sweating, and seconds away from fleeing any conversation, but despite his trouble in social situations, Amajiki found himself pursuing you: the barista who caught his eye, whose quirk lets his body do the talking for him. [COMPLETED]

A Nudge in the Right Direction✨ by Vanya_Instance (fluff, both are shy)If UA had an award for the most nervous, awkward and self-critical student then you and Tamaki would tie for first place. [COMPLETED]

Manifesting Love✨ by Vanya_Instance (oneshot, fluff, humor) Tamaki Amajiki makes the accidental decision to book off Valentines Day. The office is gossiping, the media is in a frenzy. Who's the lucky Valentine? It's no one. Seriously. He just wanted a day off, but when the media are about to eat Pro-Hero Suneater alive, you come in to save the day. [COMPLETED]

Assistant to the Hero ✨by  @dira333 /Fogfire (fluff, humor)With three years at the agency under your belt, you’re more than ready to take on one of the bigger sidekicks of Fatgum and you know that you’re capable of assisting Suneater. All you need is a chance. And if the ongoing interviews are any indication, he hasn’t picked his new assistant yet. [COMPLETED]

The Study of Poetry✨ by EntranceToInfinity (oneshot, fluff, humor)A short, sweet story of falling in love with Tamaki- (or, in which you literally stare at him and embarrass yourself) [COMPLETED]

Amajiki/Reader: Blossoming Romance by KawaiiDeku(fluff)Amajiki has a tell when he's in love, one he has trouble hiding. [COMPLETED]

So, Fuck Marry Kill? by insanityrunsinthe_family(college au, fluff, humor, explicit words(?))You came over and sat down with her and your two mutual friends, Togata, and Amajiki, and saw that she was deep in thought. She noticed you and sat up on her knees. “Oh! Oh, (Y/N)! Fuck, Marry, Kill! Amajiki, Togata, and me.” [COMPLETED]

Bon Appétit by EntranceToInfinity(friends to lovers, fluff, humor) Everyone deserves a bit of fun in their lives. And if you get your laughs from watching a dark-haired elf boy eat, is it really so bad? [COMPLETED]

Set Us Up - Amajiki Tamaki x gn! Reader Oneshot by  milk_breadx (oneshot, fluff) Mirio and Nejire have been trying to set you and Tamaki up. [COMPLETED]

It's because you're cute by MizPotatoBiscuits (friends to lovers, fluff, smut)Being friends with Nejire got you roped into the big three, becoming friends with them and enjoying their presence. Training hard you end up at the same hero agency as Tamaki Amajiki, the cute socially anxious bean. [COMPLETED]

Dear Fellow Traveler by Katonyx(smut)Getting the Suneater to come out of his shell is definitely an undertaking in itself. But what if a certain purple haired pro hero is just waiting for you to make the first move? [COMPLETED]

butterflies in your stomach✨ by @orphic-osamu (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff, hurt/comfort) whatever scars your s/o gets appear on you as well. [COMPLETED]

a butterfly | tamaki amajiki x reader✨ by madaraxwbu(fluff, smut, angst)what's tamaki to do when he realising he's catching feelings for his hot-headed underclassman? [COMPLETED]

Honey & Chamomile by Pixelwisp(oneshot, friends to lovers, fluff, childhood friends)Tamaki Amajiki gets the soft fluffy love story he deserves. [COMPLETED]

remember me by moegan(onesot, flower shop au, flower language, fluff) Tamaki Amajiki saves a civilian. He doesn’t expect her to buy him coffee and teach him about the wiles of floral culture. [COMPLETED]

Choice Words by Amberzard(oneshot, pure fluff)Reader is a member of UA's class 1-A and is blown away by the introduction of the Big Three (and an ass whooping from Mirio--). However, reader is impressed by Tamaki in particular. After all is said and done, reader rushes to Tamaki to give him a few choice words. [COMPLETED]

Balanced by ScatteredScribbles(oneshot, fluff, humor)The two of you fall into a familiar rhythm. Your hands tangle into his hair while his settle into their usual spot at your waist. For all of your differences, there was no denying that the two of you just fit. [COMPLETED]

of sleepless minds by ActuallyNonsense (collection) a collection of amajiki tamaki x reader oneshots/drabbles ． [COMPLETED]

[ohbo-ohno]

don't leave me locked in your heart (chap 2) - ghost x soap x reader

summary: Soap sees you dancing at a bar and decides you'd make the perfect anniversary present for Ghost, so he tempts you into going home with him one night and simply… doesn't let you leave in the morning.

word count: 8.2k

cw: NONCON!!!! dark!!! light petplay (ghost calls soap mutt/dog/puppy), dom!ghost, switch!soap, sub!reader, restraints, gags, ghoap are a little deranged

chapter 1/2 here, read on ao3, see the pinterest board

He could’ve fucking warned you. 

“Simon” is terrifying. His eyes are locked on yours over Johnny’s head, and they’re terrifying.

He’s nearly a full head taller than Johnny, who was already the biggest man you’d ever gone home with. And on top of that, Simon looks like he’s twice as muscular. His arms bulge in his sleeves and you can literally trace his abs. He’s wearing a sweatshirt and you can trace his abs.

You’ll die if this man tries to fuck you. There’s simply no way his dick isn’t monstrous, and if it’s even proportional to the rest of him you’ll surely split in half. And considering the fucking bulge in his sweatpants? It’s a hell of a lot more than just proportional.

The skeleton mask and eye paint certainly don’t make him look any less intimidating. They clash with the short bit of dirty blonde hair he’s got, but it hardly matters when half of the face he’s revealing is literally painted black. 

After a moment of eye contact you couldn’t break if you tried, he lets go of Johnny, taking the few steps to the bed in long strides and standing at the edge without brushing it. You’re frozen in fear, some ancient animal instinct in your head begging you to lay still and submissive in the face of a predator.

His head tilts a bit to the side, gaze sliding over your body in a way that would offend you, were you in any other position with any other man. He’s silent as one hand reaches out to trace the trembling muscles in your thigh and you can’t hold the small noise of fear back with your mouth held open. His hand doesn’t stop, just continues tracing up and down, up and down.

Johnny slides behind Simon, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist and leaning around to look at you. “Yknow,” he starts, nuzzling into the side of Simon’s arm. “She squirts when you fuck her right.”

“That so?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And you managed that?” 

Johnny makes an offended little noise but there’s a smirk playing on his lips, and you cannot believe the nonchalance. 

Johnny moves from behind Simon to kneel between your legs again. Your eyes follow him and his eager smirk as he bends his head towards your core, and you can’t help but up.

Then there’s a hand in his mohawk, yanking his head straight back so he’s staring at up the ceiling. No, not the ceiling - Simon, where he’s bent over the smaller man.

“Now, who said you could do that?” Simon rumbles, his hand continuing its slow stroke up the inside of your thigh. “Hm?” He asks again when Johnny doesn’t reply, jostling the man’s head in his grip. 

“S-sorry, L.t.,” he pants, pupils blown wide and mouth dropped open just enough for him to poke his tongue out.

Simon only makes another low noise in his chest, neither approving or disapproving, and tugs Johnny back off the bed. The man follows easily and your eyebrows furrow a bit - the Johnny you were with last night was dominant through every round, but this Johnny? He’s falling to his knees at a man’s feet with just a nudge. 

Simon pets his hand over Johnny’s head where he now rests, then brings his eyes back to yours. “Better. Now stay.”

Then he leans forward.

You make a high noise in your throat, irrationally trying to wiggle away as the man becomes all you can see. But he doesn’t go for any of your very available vulnerable places, instead reaching up to… untie you?

To your shock, that’s exactly what he’s doing. His fingers make quick work of pulling the rope from the slats of the headboard, but when you go to yank your hand away from him, you realize it’s still tied securely to your ankle. He lowers your limbs surprisingly gently to the bed, then frees your other bound wrist.

When he’s done he scoops you under the armpits, lifting you entirely off the bed for a moment and dropping you on your knees. You crumble as much as you can, back bending and head dropped low so you don’t have to look at him, don’t have to think about what you know he’s about to do to you.

“Head up, doll,” Simon grunts, but you can’t bring yourself to listen, watching little drops of spit drip from your mouth. You can see Johnny’s naked knees on the floor. There’s a sigh above you, then Simon’s hand reaching down and grasping firmly under your chin, forcing your head up and holding your eyes again.

His thumb strokes softly over your bottom lips while he considers you. You glare up at him, but he’s unfazed. He leans a little closer, then sighs again.

“Pouting won’t get either of us to let you go,” he says simply. A statement of fact - not cruel, or mocking, just… the truth. Your eyes squeeze shut as understanding finally, truly, sinks in and you feel the warm track of a tear down your cheek. Simon doesn’t give you time to dwell. “Was Johnny good to you last night?”

“Of courseI -!”

“Not asking you, puppy,” Simon growls, tone going from soft-ish to stern like whiplash, though his thumb remains soft where it wipes the tear off your cheek. “I’m asking your little stray. So?” His hand nudges your chin up, a little jerk, and you open your eyes on instinct. 

Johnny was good to you last night. You came five times, there isn’t much else you could’ve expected from a one night stand. Except for the fact that he tied you up and gagged you, he would’ve been the perfect candidate for a FWB situation.

Still, you can’t really get past the kidnapping thing. So you glare down at the kneeling man as best you can with your chin held high as it is and shake your head with the little room Simon gives.

“What?” Johnny barks, raising up on his knees and shooting you a glare. “That’s not true, L.t., I was fuckin’ great to her!”

Simon hums a little, thumb still stroking. “I don’t know, Johnny. She looks right pissed with you.”

Johnny huffs, but settles back on his ankles when Simon’s free hand moves to the nape of his neck. “She’s just pissy she can’t leave. Brat.”

“You’re the only one being a brat right now, MacTavish.”

There’s a little grumble of disagreement from the floor.

“Alright,” Simon starts, standing to his full height and taking both of his hands back. “You can’t fuck her today.”

Your eyes go wide at such an explicit command, accompanied by a sharp “What the fuck?!” from Johnny.

“Don’t start fuckin’ barkin’ at me, Johnny. Shoulda been better if you wanted to fuck her again.”

“But I was good to her, she’s just pitchin’ a fit!”

Simon looks down at you, tense and glaring, about as far from “pitchin’ a fit” as one could probably be in your situation and snorts. "Bit of a reach, Johnny. And it don't matter anyway, cause you'll do as you're told."

Another unhappy noise, followed by a petulant, “Yes, sir.” 

It’s good enough for Simon, who finally moves to get on the bed. He settles against the headboard, then reaches and lifts you beneath your armpits again. You can’t help the helpless noise of fear in your throat as you’re left just floating for a moment, before Simon settles you over his thighs.

He spreads his legs, spreading yours along with them. You’re forced into an arch as your wrists move with your ankles, and you anxiously shift back and forth on your knees.

“Settle, doll,” Simon rumbles, hands stroking rope to hip up your legs. “Johnny - on the bed, behind her.”

Johnny quickly obeys, and while he does Simon tugs his sweatpants down. He only pulls them far enough to hook beneath his balls, and you can’t help the panicked noises as his cock flops up against his stomach, fully erect.

You were right. He’s gonna tear you apart. Your heart beats faster at just the thought.

Simon huffs at your wide eyed reaction, shifting his legs up. The movement forces you down to sit on his dick, and his knees pull up behind your body, shimmying his sweats lower on his legs. “Panicky little thing, aren’t ya?”

You keen lowly in response, eyes still glued to the massive length this man is about to force into your body, unable to still your shaking hands. Johnny makes a low noise behind you, and you feel his hands begin to trace up and down your sides. “‘S ok, lovie,” he murmurs, head ducked into your throat. “I told you you’d like Simon, yeah? He’ll be good to you.”

It shouldn’t bring you any comfort to hear those words from the man who put you in this position in the first place, but the warm sets of hands combined with Johnny’s newly familiar weight at your back has your muscles relaxing against your will. Your eyes squeeze shut at the realization that your brain and your body are completely split when it comes to these men.

“There ya go,” Johnny rumbles, and you hate the little smirk you can feel against your skin as his teeth start to gnaw at your neck.

“Johnny, back down,” Simon says suddenly, leaning forward and pushing the other man back with a palm on his forehead. He goes easily, albeit with a little whine. “Good boy.”

Then, with no warning, Simon stuffs two fingers into your cunt. 

You jolt forward with a little shriek, losing your balance since your hands are still attached to your ankles. Simon’s free hand steadies you by the shoulder and you can’t keep the moan of pleasure trapped in your chest as he crooks his fingers.

You lose track of time as he stretches you, thrusting slowly but with an almost punishing strength before eventually adding a third finger. You whine at the stretch, arching your tits high in the air as your hips try to move away from the intrusion.

“Down, girl,” Simon rumbles, hand reaching out to press solidly on the center of your chest. “Gonna fuck those wrists up ‘f you keep jerkin’ away like that.”

You can’t keep yourself from glaring at him for that, and his painted eyes crinkle above the skull mask. 

Bastard.

You can feel Johnny getting antsy behind you, the mattress shifting back and forth and his breathing becoming heavier and heavier. But Simon ignores him, so you do too.

Eventually, he deems you stretched enough for him. His fingers slip out of you and his hand raises to your face, soaked fingers pushing past the ring gag and to rest heavily on your tongue. You realize why when he reaches down to grip his cock, angling the tip to your hole. Your noise of surprise is muffled by the digits. 

You can’t help but clench up tight, staring wide eyed at Simon. He glances up from where he had been staring at your core, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that shocks you. “Gotta relax if this’ll work, doll.”

He must see the lack of appeal to that in your face, because a moment later he adds, “It’s happening either way, but relaxing will make it better for you. I’ll fuck you either way.”

His fingers block the mournful little noise you make. Then, when you relax as much as you can and he pushes into you, they block the sharp yelp. “There you go, atta girl,” he hums.

“Johnny, guide her down,” Simon commands, moving his hand from his dick to your nipple, plucking and twisting lazily as he fucks his fingers in and out of your mouth at the same lazy pace. Johnny’s hands are immediately on your hips, stilling the drop you hadn’t been able to slow before you can fully impale yourself on Simon.

He lowers you slowly, but without pause, and hooks his chin over your shoulder to stare down at where you sink on Simon’s cock. “Doin’ so good, lass,” he murmurs in your ear. The three of you moan in sync when your hips meet Simon’s.

You feel like he’s splitting you down the middle, like you’re being cleaved in half. His size, the position, and being held down so no matter how much you squirm there’s no escape from the intrusion, it all makes you drip like a faucet. As much as you hate your body’s betrayal, you can’t help but be thankful for the natural lubrication to ease the way. You can’t imagine the stretch had you been anything less than soaked.

They let you sit there for a second, Johnny’s hands squeezed tight on your hips and his own hard cock pressed against your back, Simon panting beneath you with eyes half lidded as he watches his hands work on you. You can’t help the way your torso squirms at Simon’s merciless pinches.

The moment of stillness passes, and Simon’s hands move to replace Johnny’s.

“Johnny,” Simon rumbles, lifting and dropping you just the smallest bit, ignoring your moan.

“Yeah, L.t.?” the smaller replies, hips beginning to hump against your back as he buries his face in your hair.

“Want your mouth on my balls. Get on your back.”

Johnny’s obedience is instantaneous. He drops to his back and you can feel his breath against your ass as he gets settled.

“Hands on my knees,” Simon commands. “This isn’t about you right now. No touching. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then get to work.”

Simon obeys his own order as much as Johnny does, setting his feet more comfortably and lifting you high off his dick. You whine at the anticipation, clenching tightly on just the tip as you hear Johnny’s mouth get to work.

Simon drops you on his dick, thrusting up at the same time and forcing a grunt from you. His pace begins in earnest, hips slapping against you ass as he fucks you like you’re nothing more than a fleshlight he’d use to masturbate.

You lose yourself in the pleasure, moans and whimpers slipping from your lips without your notice as the pleasure continues relentlessly. Occasionally Johnny’s tongue slips to your ass when Simon bottoms out in you, and every time it draws a yip from you that makes Simon fuck into you all the harder.

An eternity later he slows his pace, his own hips no longer thrusting and instead lifting and dropping you by the hips for long, slow jabs up into you. The slower pace gives Johnny a chance to move his work to you, and as the slow pace continues his tongue lingers on your back hole longer and longer on each thrust. 

When Simon realizes what’s happening he lets out an angry snarl, one that nearly scares you out of the pleasure-drunk haze you’ve fallen into. 

“Bad dog!” He nearly shouts, hand leaving your hip to grab Johnny by the hair and yank him up to his knees, ignoring the shocked and pained whine. “What did I say?” He grunts, hips working much faster now, pounding up into you. You hear a loud smack, and jolt at the knowledge that Simon had just slapped Johnny, and the ensuing moan that Johnny lets out. “Told you to suck my fuckin’ balls. Didn't say a damn word about eatin’ the toy’s ass out - her pleasure ain’t your concern, puppy. Get your tongue back on my balls ‘fore I lock you in the fuckin’ closet til I’m done.”

“Yes, sir,” Johnny moans, breath heavy and tone almost reproachful. When he slides back down to his back his sucking noises are far lounder, and you no longer feel his tongue sneak up to you.

“Much better,” Simon growls, still not sounding satisfied. Both of his hands lock back onto your hips and he gives you a few more harsh thrusts before dropping you completely, pushing your weight down onto Johnny’s face. He holds you there for a few moments, seemingly unconcerned with the man buried in his balls’ ability to breathe.

After a bit he hums in satisfaction, one hand dragging up to your back and between your shoulder blades, giving you a solid shove into his chest. You yelp at the change in position, now much more vulnerable. His cock is still deep in your cunt, but your chest leaning against his forces your ankles and wrists high into the air, knees dug in beside Simon’s ribs. You feel off-kilter, only balanced by the thick cock deep in your cunt and your knees, which only stay in the same spot because you squeeze them tight to Simon’s ribs.

“There ya go, doll,” he rumbles, voice rumbling in his throat where your face rests. “Just lay still and let me fuck you, hm? Good girl.”

You’re not entirely sure why he’s praising you when you couldn’t have less control of the situation, but you don’t care when he starts thrusting up into you again.

It’s infuriatingly pleasurable. His tip drills into your g-spot on nearly every spot in this position, drawing whines and squeals from you, but you still can’t come without a touch on your clit. Tears well up in your eyes as you linger just at the precipice, hips humping as much as they can to try and push over that edge.

You’re stilled by a sharp smack on your ass. “I said lay still,” Simon growls, slapping your ass for another time without pausing his hips. “You’re a fuckin’ toy right now, toys don’t wiggle around like girls do.”

The filthy words draw a long moan from your throat and you hear a muffled laugh beneath your ass. 

Simon doesn’t like that any more than you do. He lifts his hips high in the air before slamming what must be his sac on Johnny’s face. “What do you think you’re laughing at, mutt? You can’t do more than suck at my balls, you gonna laugh when you don’t even get to get fucked?” Johnny whines beneath the two of you. “That’s what I thought.”

Time becomes a blur as Simon fucks you. You’re just what he said, a toy. You can’t move where he holds you down, can’t do anything other than moan at the deep thrusts he gives you. You stare through tear-filled eyes at the walls, unable to do anything but focus on the pleasure.

So you’re shocked when Simon grunts from above you, hooking his hands beneath your thighs and holding tight as he flips the two of you around. The switch leaves you flat on your back, Simon’s massive frame the only thing you can see. Johnny’s head rests between your thighs, Simon essentially sitting on his head.

Simon sits up straight, weight leaned back on his heels and pulling you with him so he doesn’t have to  pull out. He reaches a hand down to adjust his balls, and now you can see the way Johnny sucks at them enthusiastically, switching between both of them with fervor. “Good boy,” Simon murmurs once he’s seemingly satisfied with Johnny’s work. His attention shifts back to you and he moves his hands up to where you’re bound, grabbing both your ankles and forcing them back to rest by your head.

You let out a sharp noise at the stretch, but Simon just shushes you and continues to push. When your hands touch the bed he shifts his hold to just one hand, holding your legs together and forcing them just to the right of your head so he can stare down at your face.

You thank God you’re as flexible as you are.

Simon makes a pleased noise in his throat as he keeps you in his preferred position. He settles more comfortably on his knees and begins his fucking again, thrusts hard and deep with his free hand gripped tight on your ribs.

You moan at the pleasure, but can’t keep your brows from furrowing as you know you still won’t be able to come like this.

After only a few thrusts, Johnny sucking noises still loud in the room, Simon drops his head closer to yours and hunches further over you. “Needy girl, aren’t you?” He asks, breaths puffing through the mask and onto your face where he hovers only inches away. “Need a lot of attention to get off, huh?” You think he might be smiling a little under the mask, able to see what you think might be his mouth this close. 

The hand on your hip slips down to your clit, rough fingers rubbing roughly where you’re slippery. You can’t help the long, drawn out moan at the relief, eyes rolling back in your head as he continues to nail your g-spot with every powerful thrust.

“There she is,” Simon moans from above you, head rolling back on his neck as his fingers move more insistently on your clit.

It takes you mere seconds to come, hips shifting to try and work through the wave that overtakes you. The sound that comes from you would be humiliating if you were anywhere near conscious enough to register it, but you’re so lost in the feeling that you can’t feel anything but pleasure. 

Until you come down a bit, and Simon’s pace hasn’t slowed at all. His hips continue hammering into yours, and his fingers continue on your bud. 

You make a high sound, wide eyes darting to Simon’s with a panic that feels purely animal in your veins. Everything is too much, you don’t know how to cope with it.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” Simon grunts, oblivious to your turmoil. “Gimme another, yeah? Dontcha wanna soak Johnny’s face, huh? Drown him a little?” You whine in response, an almost injured noise as the pain starts turning to pleasure again. Simon only laughs, leaning down to rest his forehead against your temple. His hand shifts to collar your throat, the breadth of his shoulder holding your legs in place where he wants them. “Yeah, you’re gonna give him a little treat, doll. C’mon, cum again f’r me.”

And your body obeys. You nearly howl at the feeling, clenching down so hard on Simon that he grunts and jerks to a sudden stop buried deep in you. Distantly, in some part of your mind that exists in the here and now, you register the warmth spreading inside of you. But the part of your mind in control only feels the pleasure, only feels the insanity creeping into your head at the inescapable force of it.

It must be minutes later when you finally float back into your own head. Blinking eyes open, you register that you’re empty now, that your feet have been placed on the bed and your arms rest limp by your sides. 

Johnny’s hair is soaked with your cum, and despite all the circumstances you can’t help but blush at the realization. His head is still between your legs, but now he licks at the length of Simon’s soft cock while the large man pets his head. It takes you a second to realize he’s cleaning him.

A moment later Simon pulls Johnny off, dragging himself up and flopping with a sigh onto the pillows next to you. His eyes stay shut for a moment before he opens them and flicks a glance to you.

“Johnny,” he says, looking down at the other man.

“Aye?” Johnny replies, looking fucked out despite his rockhard cock as he shifts and rests his head on one of your spread thighs.

“Eat my cum out of her, make sure she comes again. Don’t finger her, just use that tongue of yours.”

You make a disagreeing noise, hardly able to imagine even more pleasure at this point. Surely you must be dehydrated?

“Don’t complain, girl,” Simon rumbles from next to you, one hand grabbing your thigh and forcing it flat to the mattress as Johnny eagerly worms his way higher on the bed. “You’re gettin’ all the pleasure, poor Johnny’s sittin’ there with blue balls. Ain’tcha lucky we’re bein’ so generous?”

You can’t even force yourself to glare as Johnny dives enthusiastically into your worn cunt, can only whine at the sensitivity and jerk your free thigh shut on Johnny’s head. He only moans, hands burrowing beneath you as he shoves himself as deep into you as he can.

Simon’s free hand comes over to shove the back of Johnny’s head further into you, the force causing both of you to moan. “Attaboy, Johnny. Clean her out for me.”

You come quickly. Once Johnny’s tongued all of Simon’s come from your hole he focuses his attention onto your clit, and he hardly has to do any work for you to jerk and moan in place. Simon hums as he lightens up on Johnny’s head, but the smaller man continues to lick and suck at you until your noises shift fully from pleasure to pain.

You think - you hope - they’re done now. But then Johnny kneels up and you see his fully hard cock, and you can’t help but let out a mournful sound knowing you can’t just curl up and pretend it was all a dream.

“Simon,” Johnny moans, face flushed nearly the same shade of his cock, dragging himself close to the other man and flopping over his legs. “Lemme cum, please, please lemme cum?”

“Hmm,” Simon rumbles, hand moving to grip at the nape of Johnny’s neck and knead. “Alright. How about this, puppy - I’ll fuck you and you fuck the toy’s mouth.”

You voice your rejection as much as you can, exhausted as you are, but are nearly drowned out by Johnny’s loud moan and chanting of “yes, yes, yes, thank you so much, sir, thank you”.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve been good.” He lands a sharp smack on Johnny’s flank urging him up onto his knees. 

Simon moves the two of you to his pleasure. You end up half propped up against the headboard, Johnny hunched over you and staring wide-eyed down at you as his cock slowly sinks down your throat. You can’t help but grunt and wiggle as much as possible when Johnny’s knees nearly squeeze either side of your head. 

“Stay still. You don’t start fucking her mouth ‘til I’m fucking you, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Johnny pants. “Please.”

“Calm down, Johnny. I’m gonna take care of you.”

You can’t see what’s happening from your position, can only hear the click of what you assume is a bottle of lube and Johnny’s moans as Simon presumably stretches him out. You shut your eyes, breathing deeply through your nose and doing your best not to panic at the inescapable choking sensation.

When Johnny lets out a long moan, Simon grunting over him, you can only assume he’s slid inside. Just seconds later Simon’s head appears over Johnny’s shoulder, glancing down at you as he places his own grip onto the headboard for leverage. His free hand comes around Johnny and down to your head., stroking your hair in a move so tender it surprises you into opening your eyes. 

“Alright, Johnny. I fuck your ass, you fuck her mouth. Cum whenever you need to, but I’m not stopping ‘til ‘m good and drained.”

And with that, the cock inside your mouth goes from being an almost - and you hate to admit - comforting weight to pounding so harshly you’re sure your voice will be gone. Your eyes go wide, staring up at where Johnny’s near delirious as his hips rut harshly into your face.

His balls slap your chin, moans slipping out of his mouth loud enough to make you feel pity for his neighbors. You gag repeatedly, so much so you worry you might actually start retching, but you don’t, and the fucking continues.

You can see both of their faces where they’re hunched over you, can see the way their eyes squeeze shut in almost the same way.

Johnny cums quickly, hips stuttering against your face before he buries his entire length down your throat, moan guttural. You can feel little jerks where Simon must still be fucking him as ropes and ropes of cum launch straight down your throat. You moan at the sensation, wiggling from the sensation beneath the two men, and Johnny whines at the overstimulation.

His head drops lower as Simon continues to fuck him, mouth hung open and eye glazed over. A moment later, a drop of spit falls onto your face. Johnny groans loudly at the sight, hips instinctively fucking into your throat even though he’s gone soft.

It’s not long before Simon finishes, letting out a shout of pleasure as he stills and the bed (and Johnny) stop rocking.

The silence is heavy in the aftermath.

Eventually Simon drops away from your eye line, but his hands appear at Johnny’s hips. There’s sounds of licking, sucking, and Johnny’s high pitched moans as he writhes at the overstimulation. A few moments later he slips out of your mouth, his hand moving to desperately tap at the wood of the headboard.

Simon pulls back, moving back where you can see him, and for a moment you’re offended that Johnny gets to tap out but you don’t. You shut your eyes, confident that it’s over now. You can rest, and when you open your eyes you’ll be safely in your apartment, and it’ll turn out that this whole experience was nothing but the best wet dream of your life.

A moment later large fingers - you don’t look to see who’s - brush over your face and to the back of your head, unbuckling the gag and pulling the ring from your mouth slowly. The hand softly cups your jaw, closing it when you don’t move to, and you can’t help but whine at the spike of soreness.

“Oh, baby,” Johnny coos, somehow sounding genuinely sad about your pain. Someone makes quick work of the ropes, and your joints scream in relief as they drop limply to the bed. Johnny, you assume, shifts you onto your side then slips both his arms around your stomach and tucks himself right up to your back. “I’m sorry. We won’t use that one next time, yeah?”

You don’t say anything, can’t say anything - Simon is still holding your mouth shut, and even as gently as he is you can’t open it enough to talk. You drag your eyes open to look at him. He’s just… he’s just staring, you can’t even begin to imagine what he must be thinking. He cocks his head a bit at you, then lets go of your jaw.

As he moves away from the bed you’re left stunned at your newfound freedom. Tentatively, voice quiet and hoarse, you whisper, “J-Johnny…”

The man only hums in response, nuzzling into the back of your head. His side of the mattress dips and you feel Johnny wiggle around a bit, dragging you with him, and then a new pair of hands rest on your stomach around his.

You’re fucking triple spooning. Triple spooning with the man who kidnapped you.

“Johnny,” you try again. “Please, please, I don’t…please let me go…”

“No,” he says immediately, quick and unabashed. A low, mournful noise rips from your battered throat and his arms tighten around you, legs curling up into you more. “It’ll be okay, lovie. Me and Simon are gonna take real good care of you. Right, L.t.?”

There’s a rumble in response.

You can’t help the tears, limbs beginning to struggle against your control. Johnny’s grip only gets more and more restrictive, his hands reaching to grab your sore wrists and hold them still, his thighs squeezing your knees between them until your legs stop kicking.

“Hush, lassie. Panicin’ll do you no good. Deep breaths for me now.”

You can’t. And you don’t feel particularly inclined to do anything he asks of you.

“Johnny,” you gasp. “Wanna go home. Please, please let me go. I won’t tell anyone, not a soul, I promise, please - ”

“You’re already home,” Simon interrupts, reminding you of his presence and making you jerk in their holds. “Johnny brought you here and here you’ll stay. Now sleep.”

You make a high noise of protest, trying again to struggle away from Johnny. You’re stopped by a large sigh and the feeling of Simon’s massive hands suddenly pulling you back in Johnny, holding you there securely by lacing his hands together.

“Sleep.”

Johnny makes a sound you think is supposed to be comforting above you. “It’ll be okay, lass. You don’t need to worry about anythin’ anymore. We’ve got ya now.”

“I said sleep. The both of you.”

There’s a snort of amusement from Johnny as he pulls his face away, resting his chin on top of your head and going still.

You can only tuck your head into the pillow and try to muffle your sobs.

-----

When you wake next, the room is dark. Not dim, like it was before, but dark. You’re immediately put off by the knowledge that one of them got up at some point and you were too deeply asleep to notice.

The next thing you notice is that the bed isn’t empty. You can feel the dip in the mattress at your back, but there aren’t any arms wrapped around you. You can feel the heat of someone’s body, but no skin.

You stare into the blackness as the thought sinks into your half-asleep mind.

You could escape.

Probably.

Maybe?

You have to try, right? You need to leave. You need to go back to your apartment and call the cops on these psychos.

But that means getting out of bed. Getting out of the warm bed and venturing into the pitch black and unfamiliar room, and that’s if you don’t wake up either of the men behind you. 

You have to try.

Your breath hitches in your chest as you start to move, inching slowly across smooth sheets and stilling periodically. Your hands are shaking from fear and adrenaline. 

You try to move as slowly as possible as you sit up, legs swinging over the side of the bed and praying to any god that’ll listen that neither of the men will notice the shift in weight.

There’s no sound as you drop to the floor. You’ve never been more thankful for carpet. 

You move as slowly as you can around the bed, eyes still unadjusted to the dark and unable to see anything that might be in your way. You take small shuffling steps, hands held out in front of you.

Then you trip. You don’t know over what, but it’s solid and decently small and it sends you tumbling to the ground, elbows and knees landing with a solid thud.

Oh god. There’s no way one of them didn’t wake up.

You’re not an idiot, you picked up on the military rank Johnny used. Simon, at least, is military, and if the stereotypes about military men are anywhere near true the noise of your fall woke him.

Sure enough, you hear someone shift on the bed.

You muffle a sob in your palm, biting down on the meat of it and curling up on the carpet. There’s a noise on the other side of the bed, and you know one of them just got out of bed. You try to stumble to crawl somewhere, anywhere, desperate to not ruin what might be your only chance at escape.

Then, without warning, you’re lifted in the air. You can’t help the yelp as you’re tucked into a pair of arms, one beneath your back and the other under your knees keeping you held close to his chest.

“Hush,” Simon says down at you, and you pinch your lips shut in an attempt to stifle your sobs, tears pouring down your face and soaking your neck. He sighs, shifting you until you’re more secure and moving.

It takes you a moment to realize he hasn’t taken you back to the bed. Instead, he’s taken you into another room and nudged the door shut. He places you down on something cold and when he flicks the light on you realize you’re in a bathroom.

You can’t stop your flinch at the bright light, then your second flinch at the sight of Simon in just a pair of boxers and the same mask he wore earlier. How is it possible that he looks bigger shirtless than he did with a sweatshirt on?

He’s covered in scars, to the point that he’s almost got more scars than he does bare skin. And he still wears the mask over the bottom half of his face and neck, though the makeup has been washed away at some point.

The two of you only stare at each other for a second - you, hunched over and scared with distrusting eyes and him, stood tall and proud with an assessing gaze.

Finally, he sighs, moving towards the counter where you sit. You curl into yourself a bit, watching wearily as he stops when your knees brush his stomach. He lifts a hand to your face, cupping your cheek and tilting your head up to his.

“What’s your name, love?”

You almost snort. This man has fucked you, watched his partner - or whatever Johnny is to him - eat you out and fuck your mouth. And he doesn’t even know your name. You whisper it after a moment of silence, followed by a cough when you register that your throat feels like sandpaper.

Simon hums a bit, repeating your name back to you as he reaches around you, filling a small plastic cup with water from the faucet. You track his movements, unsure of what he could do to the water but unwilling to risk anything at this point.

He hands the cup to you a moment later, saying, “Drink. We worked you hard. You need to rehydrate.”

You can’t help the heat that blooms in your cheeks, and your eyes dart away from his as you take quick sips from the cup. His hand moves back to your face, nudging it up. “Don’t try to hide anything from me now, love. I’ve already seen you at your most vulnerable, nothin’ left for you to hide.”

You shudder a bit at the direct way he says it, so plainly laying out what you had thought a moment before.

“I…” you try again, once you’ve finished the cup. “I want to go home. Please.”

His hand only continues to stroke at your cheek, eyes unflinching where they bore into yours. “No. Johnny brought you here for a reason, I won’t have you leavin’ ‘im now.”

You try to resist the tears, but you have less control over your emotions than you do of the man in front of you. “Please,” you try again, reaching to grip his wrist and feeling him go still at the contact. “I-I’m scared. Please, I won’t tell anyone, I swear, but - “

He cuts you off with a deep rumble, hand shifting beneath your jaw and holding it shut. “You’re not leaving. I don’t want to hear you ask again.” His tone is uncompromising and your sore eyes squeeze shut. “But you’ll be taken care of. Johnny and me, we’ll be good to you.”

Your sobs come out against your will, and Simon sighs. A moment later you hear the water running again, then feel something run across your face. You jerk back, eyes opening on instinct and see that he’s holding a damp cloth to your face.

“Hold still a second,” he murmurs, hand holding the back of your head as he wipes beneath your eyes and down your neck. His hand is so large that his thumb rests on the side of your neck while his other fingers rest on the other. You’re tense, but do what he says, eyes squeezing shut when the washcloth gets a little close for your comfort. He’s especially tender as he swipes the rag over your eyelids, and without even noticing, you relax just the tiniest bit in his grip.

It only takes a few moments, but in the silent bathroom it feels like an eternity. 

He steps away after apparently deeming you cleaned up enough, moving just a few steps away and bending over the tub.

You stand on shaky legs as soon as his back is turned, stumbling toward the door as the sound of flowing water fills the room.

As your hand wraps around the doorknob, arms wrap around your waist, gently but securely dragging you and placing you back on the counter and completely ignoring your dismayed cry.

“Wobblin’ around like a fawn,” Simon scolds, placing warm hands on your thighs and holding you still when you move to shove at him instinctively. “Where would you even go, huh? Gonna wander the streets naked ‘til some good samaritan spots you?”

You flush at his condescending tone and spit back angrily, “Better than here.”

“Really?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was offended. “In this neighborhood? Johnny and I are the best you’re gonna get, girl. We’re offering to take care of you and you wanna run off to any scum waiting in the alleys?” He grunts, disgusted. “No. You’ll stay here, and you’ll learn how much better it is. You got that?”

“No!” You burst, legs kicking out at his own before he grabs your knees and shoves into the counter. “You can’t just keep me! I’m not some… some pet for you!’

He surprises you by barking out a harsh laugh, leaning so close to your face that your noses nearly brush and wrapping a hand around your throat. “That’s exactly what you are. A little pet to wait for us at the door, to keep our bed and our cocks warm. A pretty little pet for us to spoil and take care of. The quicker you get it into your thick fuckin’ skull, the easier your life’ll be.”

You bare your teeth up at him, face flushed red from anger and from the steam slowly filling the air. When you don’t respond he grunts and nods once, leaning away from you and moving to turn the flowing water off.

You don’t move from where he put you this time, and when he turns back around he rumbles, “Good girl.”

You don’t know what it says about you that your heart beats a little faster. 

He steps back up to you, considers you for a second, then pulls the mask over his head and drops it on the counter.

Simon’s hot. Because of fucking course he’s hot. He’s got scars decorating his face, little nicks that look like they were just deep enough to scar but aren’t more than an inch or so in length. His nose is curved the wrong direction, two bumps in it that make you wonder just how many times it’s been broken. He’s got a broad jaw, high cheekbones, and full lips. His eyebrows hang heavy over his eyes, giving his entire face a severe look. 

You deeply resent the blush that grows on your face, forcing a scowl and glancing away. He makes a little hmph sound, and when he steps closer again you can see a little smirk playing on his lips. Ass.

He grabs your elbow, giving you a soft tug to pull you off the counter and leading you to the tub as you stumble behind him. You cross your arms over your chest and hunch your back, suddenly much more aware of your nakedness.

“You get in first,” he grunts, staring at you expectantly over his shoulder. You blink blankly at him for a moment, not moving, until he gives you a little tug closer to the edge of the tub. “Well? While the water’s hot.”

You get in the tub. A moment after you settle in the middle, stiff and mostly confused, he steps in behind you. The tub is big - surprising for an apartment in this neighborhood - and leaves him enough room to put his legs on either side of you. His arms wrap around your chest next, just below your breasts, and he takes you with him as he leans back on the edge and lets out a low moan of satisfaction.

You remain stiff, unable to relax when you still can’t see this man as anything but your captor. 

He sighs another moment later at your rigidness. “Relax,” he grumbles, grumpy.

You make a high noise in your throat. “Easier said than done.”

He sighs again, like your discomfort is putting him out. “Relax, or I’ll make you.”

You scowl. “You’ll make me relax? How exactly do you plan on -” You cut yourself off with a choking noise as his left hand grips one tit and the right slides down your stomach to cup your cunt, the weight of it almost a threat.

“Relax,” he says again. When you remain stiff, maybe even stiffer than you were before, he begins to work your clit and brush over your nipple. Softly, and slowly. “Can’t play rough with you right now,” he mumbles, tucking his face into your shoulder and pressing his lips to your neck. “Stop pushing me.”

“I-I’m not,” you stutter, legs shifting and spine going a bit looser as you finally start to settle back into him. He makes a little noise in his throat, one you have no idea how to translate, and softens his movements even further, just… petting your most sensitive parts.

The silence is thick, weighted with the dynamic between the two of you, but not suffocating somehow. The warm water and calming motions of his fingers forces your body into a relaxed state without your intent.

You hardly notice when the door creaks open minutes later, Johnny’s figure shadowed by the dark bedroom. He steps into the bathroom, and you watch as a smile grows on his face at the sight before him. His clear pleasure makes you stiffen a bit, but Simon hums a soothing note that - annoyingly - leaves you boneless.

“Room for another?” Johnny asks, voice rough from sleep.

“Always,” Simon replies, face still mostly hidden in your neck. You watch with half lidded eyes and Johnny, already naked, steps into the tub opposite the two of you. He scoots in close, and leans his chest against yours, giving both you and Simon his weight. You grunt a little under it, but he wraps an arm around your back and floats somewhat, so he feels more like a weighted blanket than anything. He hooks his chin over your free shoulder and gives a great, big sigh of relief. You’re glad for Simon holding you above the water, sure that you’d sink under Johnny’s weight. 

You don’t and work up the nerve to speak, a bit afraid that if you provoke them too much they’ll use sex as a distraction.

Still, their equally loose-limbed bodies and the bath has lulled you into an almost dream-like state, and you can’t resist pushing a little bit more. 

“There are people who will look for me,” you mumble, staring at the steam fogging up the tiles on the wall.

“Then you’ll tell them where you are,” Johnny grumbles against you, the vibrations of his chest moving to yours.

“I’ll tell them to call the police.”

“Then you won’t get access to a phone until we can trust you,” Simon, this time, says. His fingers are hardly moving now, just the occasional twitch when you shift one way or another. 

“What do you want from me?” You whisper, unable to help the crack in your voice or the tinge of desperation. 

Johnny rumbles soothingly, shifting his hand to stroke up and down your back. “You just need to be like this, lovie. Soft. Sweet. Something to spoil and treat nice.”

“A pet,” you whisper, unwanted tears burning at the back of your eyes that you close your eyes tight against, tired of all the crying.

“A pet,” Simon agrees behind you, limbs tightening around you. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“We’ll be so good to you,” Johnny says, voice right in your ear. “We’ll get you whatever you want. Once we know you won’t leave, we’ll take you wherever you want to go. All you have to do is let us take care of you. It’ll be good, lassie. I promise.”

You sniffle, and get a coo from both men in response.

None of you speak again. The water cools slowly, and when you shiver for the first time Simon shifts to unplug the tub and pulls all three of you out. 

You’re in a daze as Johnny tugs you to stand on a bathmat in front of him, a smile playing on his lips as he cups your cheeks and gives you a soft kiss. You don’t respond, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

They dry you methodically - Johnny toweling the parts of your hair that got wet, Simon patting down the rest of you.

It’s Johnny that carries you to bed, gripping the backs of your thighs and urging you to curl your legs around his waist.

“Did a number on her back, Johnny.”

“Lost control, L.t. You felt how tight she is - fuckin’ heaven.”

“Hm. Paradise.”

“So I take it you like your gift?

“Don’t play coy, MacTavish. It doesn’t suit you.”

“On the contrary, sir - everythin’ suits me.”

“Shut up.”

You tune out their voices, aware only tangentially of a hand stroking across your hair as you’re laid in bed. Johnny keeps you at his front, mimicking the position the two of you had taken before… everything. Your legs tangled together, his arm under your head, his head on yours, your face in his throat. The only difference is that Simon slides in behind you, wrapping his big arms around both of you and tugging you tight to his body. His leg slips over yours, and their combined weight holds you deep in the mattress.

“Go to sleep, love,” one of them mutters. “Tomorrow will be better. You’ll see.”

You close your dry eyes and fall asleep with warm, sated limbs.

[strabara]

•.SHIGARAKI’S SEXTAPE.•

SUMMARY: Y/N is batshit crazy for Shigaraki that she finds him and confesses her undying love for him. And he promises to return her love only if she completes a small favor. Y/N of course blindly obliges.

Notes: I had posted this on AO3 AGESS AGOOO. But! I decided it deserved a remake. Also bc I’m making a second part soo yea :3 AGAIN as I’ve said before English isn’t my first language and it wasn’t very good 2 years ago.. so watch out for grammatical issues and terrible writing skills..

WARNINGS: NONCON, CREAMPIE, SHAMELESS SMUT, ROUGH SEX, BREEDING, CREAMPIE, FORCED PREGNANCY, NOT BETA READ, PLOT WHAT PLOT/ PORN WITHOUT PLOT, SEXTAPE, PITY SEX, HUMILIATION, OVERSTIMULATION, LOSS OF VIRGINITY

Y'know to the pro heroes the video that Shigaraki filmed of you looked fucked up. It was even more fucked up that it was being broadcasted live for everyone to see. People didn’t need to know who you were to know that you were 'Kidnapped'. After all they think you’re his hostage and you’re doing all of this against your will. But oh how they were so wrong. Right now you were seen as a barely clothed chained girl who was being forced to suck dick.

But to you this was all apart of your sick fantasy that you dreamed of! Sure it’s weird somebody even liked Shigaraki but no.. you loved him. You loved him so much that you'd do anything for him, LITERALLY. I mean here you were shamelessly rubbing circles to your clit as your face was getting fucked by Shigaraki! All they could hear was muffled moans and groans. A truly terrifying sight for anyone.

"Agh.. Look at you taking me so well.. I'll reward you with my disgusting cum you little slut."

You gurgled and sped up your pace to your clit. You moaned as you reached your peak and on cue he released his thick salty ropes into your mouth. You whine as they traveled down your throat. Panting as you hold your heavy eyes, tired from the Costant stimulation to your clit. God how this turned you on. He takes himself out of your mouth as he quickly grabs you by the neck, shoving your face into the camera.

"Open your mouth and show them how you swallowed a villians cum you Whore."

You slowly opened your mouth showing your tongue and bruised throat. You wanted to smile but couldn't since that would show you really weren't doing this against your will. Shigaraki started to laugh as he threw you to the floor making you whimper. He then grabbed you by the hair, pulling you towards him. He spreads your legs as he got inbetween them, his hard member falling onto your cunt making you flinch slightly. Almost instantly he disintegrating your panties before he put your thighs to your chest.

You were now basically naked, well except for the ripped up thigh high socks you had on. Your uniform was all ripped up and discarded to the side somewhere.

"How does it feel knowing your virginity will be stripped away from you by a villian? Not only that but I'll make you bear my children! You hear that? Your small cunts gonna be forced to swallow my villian seed!"

He smirks at you before he ran his tip along your slit, making you shudder. This made the heroes hearts drop. But only added love to yours. You couldnt believe this was actually happening!! The man you’d been in love with for who knows how long was about to take your virginity! Oh how luck was on your side.

"No p-please! I beg you! You can let me go I wont tell them anything I-I promise!"

You yelp as he slaps your pussy, grabbing and pulling at your clit. A hand went to your head before he grabbed a handful of your hair. His lips came to your ear all the while he had a smirk on his lips.

"Hmm i thought about it and how about.. No?"

And just like that he snapped his hips forward, pushing his large shaft into you with a single thrust. You choked as he stretched you out. You really were willing to do anything but the pain really did hurt. You screamed loudly all the while you threw your head back throwing weak punches to his chest. Shigaraki was quick to put a hand at your throat to shut you up.

"Hah.. Shit your sucking me in so good it’s like you want me to breed you! How dirty for a cute naive quirkless girl."

The camera catches the small streams of arousal mixed with blood trickle down your hole as it reached the floor. This was the final straw for the heroes.

"what the hell are we doing! This girl is getting Assualted and we're just going to let it happen?!"

The Lust hero, Midnight exclaimed.

"Look Midnight we can't do anything! We dont know where they are! And people wont let us search without creating a jam. I get it I want to help too but there’s nothing we can do.!"

 

 

You continued to moan and yelp as he reached into the deepest parts of you not caring about the people who were listening or watching. After a while the pain had subsided and turned into pleasure.

"P-please s' too much!~"

You moan loudly while his tip assualted your cervix every thrust he gave.

"Aw maybe i'll be nice if you’re a good girl and tell me you’re my cocksleeve."

You squeak as he gripped your hips tighter, almost as if he was promising he would leave bruises.

"N-no i don't want to be anything to you just let me gah!~"

You stop as he bites your body leaving love marks everywhere as he showed you’re HIS property. Shaking your head he licks up your neck until reaching your parted lips. Being quick to thrust his tongue in. Your mouth leaking with saliva while he dominated your mouth. He stops before he licking his lips, watching you gasp for air as your mouth quivered.

"Cmon say it, you’re my cocksleeve and you’re a slut that loves villian cock. Theres no way anyone else will want you. After all you’re being used up by a big bad villian!"

This Sickening Fantasy of yours was a dream come true!

"I-I’m your cocksleeve!~ and a slut who loves villian C-cock!~"

This was probably humiliating for others but it turned you on so much more. You shamelessly wrapped your arms around his neck while wheezing.

"Hey wait a minute.. You just got tighter! Ha that turned you on huh? How dirty of you."

You just continued to cry and whimper as you turned you head away, but that shortly changed when he started to hit your G spot. You yelp loudly before your arms left his neck, putting them on his abdomen to push him away.

"Whats wrong huh? Need to cum?"

You squeal as he rubbed your sensitive clit, making your toes curl and eyes roll back.

"A-ah no! I dont wanna cum!"

Your orgasm was approaching fast as he continued to hit your G spot all the while he teased your clit.

"Ha! What a treat! Cmon cum on this villian cock! I wanna hear how someone disgusting like me makes a good little civilian feel."

His hips rocked back and forth as your body bounced. He took this time to suck your nipples, bringing you over the edge you were so eagerly trying to get to.

"A-agh I’m cumming!~"

Unexpectedly you squirted all over him coating his cock and balls with your juices. He lets out a creepy laugh before gripping your jaw to look at him.

"Wow you’re disgusting! You said you didnt like me ya big perv! Well here’s my treat for you so make sure to swallow every bit of it! You'll look so pretty pregnant! Agh you'll be forced to be burdened with MY kids it’s just amazing!"

The overstimulation was bringing tears to your eyes as you shook your head no.

"No please pull out I dont wanna get pregnant!~"

His hips slammed into you fast at an animalistic speed as you continued to bounce. Your moans cracking from all the screaming, cheeks wet with tears and saliva. He roughly kisses you to shut you up as you felt a second release coming. Finally he slammed into you one last time releasing his sperm into your cervix. You moan into the sloppy kiss as your second orgasm ripped through you, making you to squirt again.


"Wow i must have really made you feel good, Not only that you squirted again, truly amazing guess quirkless people can make up for it huh."

You heavily breathed while letting out small whimpers. He started to cackle as he put the camera to your ahegao like face, along with pulling out of you to watch his cum ooze out slowly.

"Oops let’s just push that back in yeah?"

You whine as his finger pushes into

your sensitive cunt, plugging his cum inside. The pro heroes felt guilt in their hearts, they failed to protect a civilian. You on the other hand were fucked dumb. All you could think about was how good he made you feel, how full you felt. You let out a shaky breath as you pull your pussy apart. Allowing your hole to glisten from the camera's light.

"I-I’m yours only, P-please Mr. Shigaraki… use me to your h-hearts content."

You manage to slip out with tired heart eyes and a subtle grin. His smile just widens before he thrusted back inside you, making you moan softly.

"Of course how could I refuse such an offer?"

 

 

Multiple citizens were left traumatized, but this didnt stop many from being determined to find you. Although there were some people who were really weird about it. I mean somebody broke into the news station and stole the video!! They literally uploaded everywhere. Top trending video for awhile weirdly. Lots of people watched it they called it 'Shigaraki's sextape' it was super long, nearly 7 hours.

The search continued and continued which bugged the shit out of you! After all you were the one stalking Shigaraki and you were the one who told him about your crazy obsession, how you were in love with him, how you'd do anything he asked of you!.. Even if it would ruin your image. Couple of months had went by and you were now 5 months pregnant with triplets! Oh how happy you were. You found out that you were having 2 boys and a girl.

"Oh! Y/N look what I got you! Its perfect for your triplets so you can try to put them to sleep at the same time!"

You open the gift to find a small box it had a voice box so you were assuming it was to record your voice. With a smile you turned to the radio hero.

"Thank you Mr. Mic I appreciate this gift!"

Yea... about that, part of Shigaraki's plan was for you to get found so if he and his future league ever did need shelter they could stay in your apartment. But, you didnt get an apartment. Instead you got a huge ass house gifted to you from the pro heroes! After all they were filled with guilt that they couldnt save you from the so called 'Trauma' you experienced, or the fact you’re forced to have kids you 'don’t' want. And lets not even talk about how they found you and the state you were in, it was... something.

"Alright who's gift is this? There's no name."

"Dont know probably a gift sent from a random person."

Alot of the random gifts people sent were… questionable to say the least. Its also a bit unsettling that some people would comment on your instagram with the link to the video saying they 'wished it was them he did it to'. You won’t lie now you always click the link so you could watch him and in the end you always masturbate to it. You sigh, slowly ripping the wrapping paper to find a small box that looked shabby and old filled with bibs, onesies and a small envelope. You s slowly open the envelope to find a scratchy like note that read 'I love you, so you better make sure that my kids are well taken care of or else you'll regret it.' Wait.. Shigaraki spent his valuable time to send you gifts AND he told you he loved you!?

The Tomura Shigaraki wasted his precious breath on someone weird like you?! Kicking your feet you squeal and hold the note to your chest. You blush as you look up to the pro heroes surrounding you.

"What is it Y/n? A love letter? "

The pro heroes start to laugh as you giggle.

"No.. Its just... "

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Shigaraki truly does love me!.."

Notes: OKAYY so I did change some pieces here and there uhh sorry if there’s still mistakes I’m fucking blind. Hope you enjoyed! I’m currently working on part 2 now!

[babyangelsky]

My Favorite Expressions in Love Sea Ep. 10

I can't believe this is my last one of these 😭

I've loved watching and writing about this show so much. I was always going to enjoy it because of the FortPeat of it all but I never thought I'd have so much to say about it or that I'd end up writing about it weekly. The only other shows I've written about to such an extent are Two Worlds and Dead Friend Forever.

I've only had this blog for a little over a year and a half and it's only in the past six months that I've been actively talking on it and making friends on here. I really want to thank all of you who take the time to read my posts and indulge my clown behavior and leave your thoughts and kind words in the tags. It means a lot 💜

Okay let's talk about microexpressions before I start crying in the club. Again.

We start off with Tongrak about to go have lunch with his mama after not seeing her for years. Mahasamut is lovely and encouraging because of course he is, he's my Memo Ochoa, but this face when Rak mentions wanting him to come along next time...

It's not that Mut doesn't want to. He does. It's just that he's very aware that it's not up to him.

And Rak doesn't quite get what he means because he's been trying very hard this whole time to not see this situationship for what it is.

His smile doesn't quite fall but it does flicker for a second and there's the smallest tilt of his head. Didn't he just ask Mut to come along? Then why is Mut telling him that it's up to him whether that meal with mama ever happens?

You can't pretend that elephant ain't there forever, Khun Tongrak.

And Mahasamut can't either.

"See the missing heart?"

It was at that moment that Tongrak understood what Mut was doing in giving him that bracelet.

And there was no joy at the realization. Only fear, dread, and panic. He doesn't allow Mut to get out the 'I love you'. He begs him not to sat it because simply knowing that it's coming terrifies him.

Tongrak tries to run away and draw up another agreement in a useless last-ditch effort to avoid Mut's feelings, but Mut doesn't allow that. We're at the end of the rope. We're at the edge of the cliff. The camel's back is one straw away. He loves Rak and he wants and needs to tell Rak. And he does.

But Tongrak is afraid of that love. He doesn't want it, and it breaks Mut's heart.

So Mut makes one last effort to make Tongrak understand that what he wants isn't Rak's money, but him and that terrifies Rak MORE because that money was another brick in the wall he'd built to protect his heart and now Mut is giving it all back and the integrity of that wall is weakening.

He isn't prepared to be without the wall so he rejects Mut and in doing so, chooses to be without him instead.

And here is where I grumble again about wanting to talk about a scene more and having to cut myself off for photo limit reasons.

When Mahasamut goes to say goodbye to Vivi and Mook and ask them to take care of Tongrak, Mook is the only one who's surprised. Vivi isn't. Hell, she doesn't say a word the whole scene and she doesn't have to. Look at her face. She understands why things are happening this way because she understands Rak and was coming to understand Mut. She knew something had to give.

Mook asks Mut if he's sure and wants him to reconsider but Vivi knows that he's here because he is and he has. Mook wonders what will become of Rak without Mut but Vivi (and we) know what it isn't just about Rak. Mut deserves to be loved and cared for the same way he does for others and has emotional needs just like anyone else and that's why he has to go home.

Mahasamut made sure to keep his promise of sweets in exchange for a good report card to Meena before he left and he almost made it home without breaking down but hearing Meena and her mom talk about what the number 8 means to Tongrak and the dawning realization of why Tongrak gave him an 8 that random night in bed is just too much.

It's all too much because at its core the reason Mut and Rak can't be together at this moment isn't a lack of love. The love is there but it's being smothered beneath the weight of Rak's fear.

Oh and hearing Mut's hitched sob after Meena asks him if he's okay?That absolutely did me the fuck in I'm never recovering fuck you Fort and also well done go sit at Chris Chiu's table.

I'd like to take a break from all this pain to complain that Mook didn't get to wear glasses for the whole show because look how cute my girly looks in them.

And the two flavors of concern she and Vivi have for Tongrak who is doing about as well as expected.

Sidenote: Khun Tongrak I'm never going to get over you leaving Mut's bracelet in the trash can for a week.

Her mess of a love life aside, Vivi is such a good friend. If I hadn't been so busy being sad in the moment I would've caught this face and realized the bracelet was safe.

As devastating as it was to see both Mahasamut and Tongrak have their individual moments of realization followed by a public breakdown, they were both important. I daresay they needed to happen because THIS is the true root of the issue.

Tongrak isn't afraid of love and he doesn't actually think it doesn't exist. He knows that it does and he's afraid of what comes with it. He's afraid of what happens when it's gone and the way that it hurts people because that is all he knows, that's the sum total of what all his life experiences have taught him about love.

But because until meeting Mut he never experienced love himself, he never had to confront that fear or fight its hold on him. There was never a reason to. It just kept getting reinforced to him and he fell back on it when he couldn't hide from his or Mut's feelings anymore.

This is what "do it scared" looks like. I'm so proud of my fighter.

And I'm proud of my Memo too for standing on business and not folding the moment Rak appeared even though I know a part of him really wanted to.

Tongrak broke Mahasamut's heart and it's not enough for Rak to appear and ask Mut to put the bracelet on him. That's still him wanting Mut to take the first step and even though we know that it's because Rak doesn't know how to go about this and desperately wants an opening, the first step is one he has to take without any help or prompting. Coming to the island was only half the battle.

And it's BRUTAL to watch because we know that Rak isn't there to hurt Mut and that he wants to reconcile and apologize and tell Mut he loves him but he just CANNOT find the words no matter how hard he tries.

Tongrak is a writer, words are his whole life, but it's like he told Vivi: fiction isn't reality. It is so much harder to say what you want to say when you're doing it for yourself and not for a character on a page.

"Don't make me throw my own heart away."

The lighting and the photo limit are preventing more screenshots of this scene and that is a good thing because just rewatching and seeing the glint of tear tracks on Fort's face is making me cry.

DAMN RIGHT YOU'RE NOT GONNA QUIT THAT'S MY BOY

Tongrak found the words and he found a way to say them and he found a way to make Mahasamut hear them and they're looking at each other with hope and surprise and love and I'm a MESS.

*blubbering* Just look at this adorable little cross-eyed look that makes it seem like Rak is trying to make sure he's not imagining this and all he can say is Mahasamut's name with increasing desperation and and--

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

"Pom rak khun."

"Chan rak nai."

*CRYING IN THE CLUB*

There is not a single expression in this entire television program that means more to me than this one. Not a single fucking one.

This is the face Rak is going to wake up to for the rest of his life, soft sexy morning voice included.

I just want to state for the record that I knew this pouty kitten had bought them a house the second he rushed in all excited with his envelope. I understand this man too well to be surprised by the things he does.

I would also like to point out THAT HE IS IN A TEXTURED PATTERN AND THAT I WAS RIGHT!

There are so many more expressions that I would've loved to include but this was a long episode and the photo limit is a cruel mistress.

This show wasn't perfect but I loved it so much. It helped me process some things, it healed some things, and it gave me Tongrak and Mahasamut whom I love and will miss so dearly.

I had a great time watching with ya'll and writing about it 🥰

*manifests a special episode*

[elexaria]

TW — mentions of suicidal ideation and suicide attempt

simon is out on sick leave, his mental health has gotten worse since johnny died. “can’t have you in service if you’re not 100%, riley.” price gruffly remarks as he signs simon’s papers, eyes looking up through thick eyebrows at si, who is angrily glancing away.

sick leave is torture. simon feels lost, no anchor to tether him down to earth. without work, he is nothing. without johnny, he’s ….. nothing.

he spends all day rotting away in bed, his thumb rasping against a battered old photograph of him and johnny on holiday in mallorca. johnny with a gorgeous tan, and simon all pink. no, he doesn’t get an impeccable bronze. that man BURNS.

the corners of simon’s lips twitch as he glances at johnny in the photo, admiring how handsome he truly was. he would give anything to see him again.

and then it gets hard to get anything but dying out of his head. if he dies, then maybe he can see johnny again. they can finally be together again. right?

the capt drops off a small bundle of johnny’s stuff at simon’s apartment, and then a small package is delivered in the post from mrs mactavish, johnny’s mom. various bits and bobs, some of johnny’s tshirts, his favourite cap, some sketchbooks.

his dog tags.

simon’s surprised to find them; he thought that they would be put in johnny’s urn or something. but clearly his mom thought otherwise, she must’ve known how much johnny adored simon. he would have moved heaven and earth for that mancunian.

still, suicide ghosts every waking moment of simon’s life. he glances at johnny’s dog tags besides his bed, chewing his chapped lips as he entertains the idea more. and again when he’s walking around the shops, glancing at various means of killing himself. his thumb rasps against the cold metal of johnny’s tags from within his jacket pocket as his free hand extends to read the packet of rat poison. might be a bit too painful, and apparently it stinks to the high heavens.

simon puts the box of rat poison back, continuing to walk around the shop, thumb still stroking against the dog tags as he continues to glance around the store. he can’t take painkillers, there’s a limit to two boxes per person. so, he settles on visiting the hardware store, and buys a bundle of sturdy rope. even grabs some plywood and metal brackets. “makin’ a swing for the little’un.” he mumbles to the cashier, flashing an uneasy yet somewhat believable smile to her as he fishes out some loose bank notes from his jean pockets. he’s not big on wallets.

for almost a week, simon sits on the edge of his bed staring at the bundle of rope next to a chair from his kitchen. he knows its the only way out, so why is it so terrifying? just do it, riley. do it.

he scrawls out demented ramblings on some loose leaf paper, barely readable chicken scratch to captain price, gaz and to mrs mactavish. “i’ll always be grateful for you for bringing my johnny boy into the world.” is somewhat legible in the letter written to her.

he neatly leaves the letters at the foot of his bed, taking a deep breath as he reaches into his pocket for johnny’s dog tags. for a moment, simon admires them in the dim lighting of his bedroom, watching as the thin metal clinks together. sergeant john mactavish.

as the tags slowly slip over simon’s head, the ball chain momentarily getting caught on a wry piece of scruffy blonde hair, they finally join with simon’s own tags on his chest as he stands on the kitchen chair. for a moment, his hand reaches out against his wardrobe to steady his balance. he slips the noose around his neck, heart thumping against his rib cage ferociously. do it, simon. do it.

simon’s trying his best to still his breathing, taking deep breaths as he tries to dull the nagging thoughts, against his instincts to not do this.

“tae fuck d’yae ‘hink yer daein?!”

simon falls back against his wardrobe out of shock, eyes wide with horror as he glances in the direction of that all too familar voice, that voice that immediately drowns out every single thought that was screaming at simon to kill himself.

it’s johnny.

he’s effervescent, an angelic silhouette of his mortal self. a halo of warm light, blue, ghosts around his form.

simon’s mouth is agape, eyes still wide as his body freezes. immediately, he tears the noose off of his head, damn near stumbling off the chair to get a closer look of the spectacle in front of him.

“johnny? but… you’re…”

“dead? aye, sherlock. i am.” the silhouette retorts sarcastically, flashing ghostly pearly whites in a lopsided grin, one that’s terrifying just like johnny’s signature grin. simon backs against the wardrobe, his breathing uneven and scant as he begins to panic. this isn’t normal, this isn’t right.

the mass of energy and light shaped like johnny notices this panic in simon, and seems to frown. it slowly moves towards him, a hand reaching out to touch simon’s shoulder. it’s hauntingly cold, and it makes simon recoil with horror. the spectre frowns even more, retracting its hand.

this can’t be johnny.

because johnny’s dead.

[aouiaa]

What if.. Dina + Werewolf reader

Maybe R is very secretive about it at first, nobody knows at all, they go about business as usual other than maybe disappearing every full moon. R is just pretty strong and fast and they can just write that off as being athletic or something

Dina could possibly find out when Dina and R are on patrol and they get ambushed by a bunch of raiders, then R is forced to transform into the big werewolf form in a last ditch effort to protect Dina?

Live Laugh Love Dina Nolastname..

❝ under blue moon ❞ — 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 !

warnings and disclaimers, established wlw relationship (not implicated), half werewolf/human!reader, reader has long hair, human!dina, cursing, angst with comfort, self-deprecation, sequences of violence, deaths, descriptions of wounds, mentions of blood.

TAPE THAT MOUTH SHUT, “we love you dina” we all say in unison.

like the repetitive tap of a foot, you were restless. plagued with conflicting emotions that a slip-up at any given moment could alter the course of history, a beloved one with many. every howl under a night sky, a display of unwavering loyalty, ignites a sense of profound shame within you. perhaps this constant state of self-deprecation and guilt stems from a deep-seated selfish desire to release, to finally be who you were meant to be, not forced.

from the unyielding itch to molting, you didn't wish to frighten or harm anyone, but sometimes it was necessary. a sharp whistle pierced the tranquil expanse of lush forests you patrolled alongside dina, morphing into a fierce war cry. your primary concern was preventing any harm from befalling your companion. the attack materialized so abruptly that it seemed almost surreal. the scathing slash struck swiftly, leaving a searing wound in its wake.

in your perception, the situation was akin to clinging to a rope for dear life, so tightly that it sliced through your skin, leaving behind scars begging to be licked clean. the rope itself was not robust, hanging by an exceedingly fragile thread. every action demanding meticulous movement, for a single misstep could spell doom.

the same doom that loomed over your relationships, uncertain if they could ever be salvaged. the relentless onslaught came fast, and just as quickly, the man perched atop you pinned you down, leaving you battered and close to your final breath. in that critical moment, you gazed over to your right, desperately seeking an escape. there, you saw dina, her life slipping away as she was being strangled. amidst the chaos, a profound realization washed over you. it’s clear like any human, they have a breaking point, and being half-human, you certainly experienced those moments of revelations too, just like you were destined to now.

at first, you felt a disconnect, as if the world had shifted into a hazy fog. then, through the blur, a trembling, bloodied figure came into focus. she looked up at you, her eyes wide with fear, as if you were some malevolent entity. the truth was, you were, yet not a monster in the conventional sense.

driven by primitive instinct, you lashed out at her and fled through the dense forest, putting distance between yourself and the once battlefield. with your heart pounding furiously, the stinging sensation of tears threatened to fall, it all felt useless, as if your efforts amounted to nothing. you were nothing, but a failure. now, certainly, you were gonna be alone. wearied, you gently placed the terrified girl on a patch of clear ground before collapsing at her feet, utterly spent.

as if in a scene from a film, a brilliant aura enveloped you, gently shrinking your form until you were your true self once more, but—were you ever truly your “true self” to begin with? your tresses fell like a curtain, shielding your face, almost as if they spoke on your behalf. shame cloaked you, fearing what the other might think, but realization sunk in: you couldn’t hide any longer, not anymore. you gathered the courage and swept your hair behind your ear.

inches from your visage was the face you dreaded, one that could turn away and call out wolf— literally. you stared up at her, tears streaming down your face. You weren't physically harmed, yet sobs continued to spill from your lips.

your voice quivered as you choked out, "i can't... i won't hurt you." you attempted to sit up, but to your dismay, she moved back, the small distance feeling like a chasm between you. it was as if the whole world had been turned upside down—your feet no longer firmly planted on the ground.

it might be for the best that everything unfolded this way, as deep down, you had no real grasp of whether you were truly domesticated. just like animals with their innermost instincts, there was a chance that an unexpected trigger could send you into a tailspin. with tears streaming down your face, you tearfully admitted, "i’m a monster." slowly, you began to rise to your feet.

“hey, hey,” her hands, gentle and soothing, came to rest on your tear-stained cheek to stop you, redirecting your gaze to meet hers. she softly reassured you, “you’re far from that.” like a mother calming a distressed child, she stroked your skin tenderly with her thumb.

“but you look at me like i am.” you murmured.

she huffed, clearly at a loss for words, “i—what is there to say to this?” her smile held a hint of resignation as she continued, “sure, you're a bit on the hairy side, but you did get us out of a hairy situation.” a pitiful attempt to lift the mood with a lighthearted remark in a tense situation wasn't so easily dispersed. unmoved by her attempt at humor, you offered her a cold shoulder, extinguishing the fragile flicker of light that had briefly appeared.

she notices your expression and sighs, momentarily resting her forehead against yours. as she inadvertently glances downward, the change in her expression prompts you to follow suit.

immediate embarrassment flooded you as you swiftly move to cover your private areas, your face beet red. "oh shit." you muttered, realizing you had forgotten a crucial detail.

her infectious laughter sliced through the tension in the room— or rather forest. with a toothy grin, she took off her jacket and draped it over your shoulders, quipping, “there you go, you wild animal."

"hey!" you pouting in response.

request are open, don’t be shy! :3

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[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 03

<<previous chapter | next chapter>>

Masterlist

…

17 YEARS AGO

It was during my first week there that I'd finally be let to do something with the other kids. I didn't know what I hoped it to be but it wasn't this.

All of us kids stood at the bottom of a lengthy spiral staircase waiting for Reginald’s go. Minus a brown hair girl who stood at the top with her father looking down pitifully at us, I'd never seen that day with the rest of the kids before. I didn't know any of these people yet. And they didn’t know me. So when the morning began they were confused about who this girl was with the same green with white stripe tracksuit as them.

I looked up at Reginald as he wrote something in a big book, probably his journal but I had no idea what it could be.

Nietzsche once said. ���Man is as a rope stretched between the animal and the superhuman. A rope over an abyss. It is a dangerous crossing, a dangerous looking back, a dangerous trembling and halting.’

Reginald gives the brown-haired girl a look and she blows the whistle tied around her neck. They all burst into action but I stood there for a second. I was still very new to things so I followed the crowd as they raced up the stairs. I wasn't a fast runner at all but I kept up. Never falling to last place.

As much as you must strive for individual greatness, and strive you must, for it won't come to you of its own accord..

The blonde boy was first and the rest of us just tried to catch up to him. The stairs were steep and rickety, they did not make for a good run at all. I was next to the curly-haired girl who was in third, we both tried our best to keep moving but never wanting to push each other.

You must also remember that there is no individual stronger than the collective.

The one boy who could teleport blinks up in front of the blonde boy and takes the lead.

“That’s not fair, Five’s cheating!” Whined the boy who could throw knives, who was second before he teleported up.

“He adapted.” Yelled Reginald from the top.

..

The scene in front of me was terrifying beyond belief. I'd just been given my uniform and called into one of the house's many halls along with everyone else. In the middle, there was a man who was working on a tattoo, on Diego’s arm. Who’s name I just learned.

I could tell he was trying not to cry, but by the way, he was moving in his chair, I could tell that this was hurting him. I wanted to go up and hold his hand and use my powers. But I was given a disapproving look from Reginald so instead I sat in one of the chairs next to Five and waited for my dreaded turn.

The tattoo was in the shape of an umbrella, our logo.

The ties that bind you together, make you stronger than you are alone.

Behind Diego was Alison and Klaus who already had gotten their tattoos and were crying holding each other in support. I also wanted to go up to them, and help. I thought I could help everyone in the room with my powers and at least take away the pain but not the image.

They will make you impervious to the pain and hardship the world will thrust upon you.

Behind me, I could see Grace and Reginald standing next to each other, witnessing the children’s crying hysterics. Not either of them showed an ounce of sympathy for what we were going through.

And believe me when I tell you, life will be hard. It will be painful.

The old man walks away leaving Grace to watch by herself. She had her eyes on the girl at the top of the flight of stairs, Vanya. I was confused why she wasn't sitting next to me getting her own branding like the rest of us.

She took out a sharpie from her uniform and drew a figure on her arm.

We can accomplish anything.

Hours passed and It was time for bed, is what Grace told us. All of the kids looked less in pain from what the day did to us, almost joyful that it was over. But for me as someone who could heal all my wounds ever. The tattoo pain increased tenfold than it was when I got it. I was in agony before I fell asleep. Still in my plain room.

When we accept responsibility together. This is what creates trust.

..

Reginald was monitoring all of the kids with wires connected to their heads that night. A weird scene at best. None of them would ever discover this crazy fact until adulthood. He sat in his study, writing and watching the children’s brain waves as they slept. As well as security camera footage of each one.

Together, you will stand against the reign of evil.

The loudest beeping came from Vanya, something that Reginald looked shocked at before going back to writing in his journal.

..

PRESENT DAY

I gave myself time to just rest in my bed. The thought of Ben was a virus in my mind that wouldn't go away, at what point do you have to tell yourself to let go?

On my way to the kitchen I passed Vanya leaving, I stopped to say bye and when I did she hugged me. And told me to look after myself. Then she walked out the door, I do hope I see her again.

“Hey N/n” Klaus looked at me worriedly. He was strumming a guitar while sitting on one of the chairs in the kitchen.

“Hi,” I said quietly and took a seat in the chair closest to him. Five paced around the room looking for something when Alison walked in.

“Where’s Vanya?” She asked.

“You just missed her. She left.” I say back.

“That’s unfortunate,” Five remarks, standing in front of a shelf. But he slowly turns to where the three of us sit

“An entire square block. Forty-two bedrooms, 19 bathrooms, but no, not a single drop of coffee.” He said, dropping an empty can onto the table.

Alison gives him a confused look. “Dad hated caffeine.”

“Well, he hated children too, and he had plenty of us!” Klaus laughs, falling back into his slanted chair.

Alison didn't find his joke very funny, but I did. It was true after all.

Five looks down, his expression a mix of anger and yearning. “I'm taking the car.” He says.

Klaus puts the guitar down, getting more interested in this conversation. “Where are you going?” He asks. Probably with the hope that he could come too. Our sandwich idea didn't work out, and it was too dark now.

“To get a decent cup of coffee.” Five exclaims.

“Do you even know how to drive?” Alison crosses her arms.

“I know how to do everything.” And he blinks away.

Klaus's reaction is delayed. He stands up after Five leaves and holds out his hand like he's still there. “I feel like we should try and stop him.” He turns back to us. “But then again, I also just kinda want to see what happens.”

We all turned our heads to the wall as we heard noises from the outside. It was a car engine turning on, proof that Five wasn't bluffing. Now I kinda wish I could join him. The car speeds off and we hear Diego’s lovely voice as he walks into the room.

“All right, I guess I'll see you guys in, what, ten years? When Pogo dies next?” He says.

“Not if you die first.” I smile. Klaus bursts out into fits of laughter as Alison fake coughs to mask hers.

“Yeah, well love you too Y/n.”

He stops at Alison. “Good luck on your next film.” Was he actually being nic— “Hope it turns out better than your marriage, huh?” No of course not..

Diego finally walks away when Alison looks like she’s about to say something but she turns her back and walks away instead in the opposite direction.

“Gotta run sweetie, love you!” Klaus calls out before running after Diego.

I sigh as I hear the sound of them leaving in Diego's car. I'm surprised by the fact that he even has one. I'm left by myself once again, now I'm not sure what to do at all. So I went back to my room.

..

On my long walk home, because I wasn't in the mood to wait for a taxi, I passed by Giddy's Doughnuts. My old place of employment when I left the Academy. I had a job there to earn some money to get on my feet.

I wasn't going to take any handouts because of my “last name” and definitely wasn't getting any money from Reginald. Well, I doubt he’d ever give me any because I did technically run away.

Since Klaus ditched me to hang out with the less cool Diego, I thought I'd stop by and say hello to Agnes.

“What the fu—“ I screamed as I walked through the door. There were Five absolutely beating the shit out of like six people.

Their bodies lay on the floors in their own pools of blood. Five looked petrified at the sound of my voice, dropping the man whose neck he just snapped.

His face switches back to a calm one as he sees me staring at them. “Don’t try to help them, it's not worth it.” He says walking to the large island in front of the doughnuts. “Come here and help me with this.”

I walk over immediately trying not to step on any parts of these men. “Fiv-“

He cuts me off. “Cut open my arm, will you? Right here.” My face drops.

“Aren’t you the one who can heal people? Come on.” Five rushes. I forgot that we barely know each other, well I know more about him than he does about me. Because he ran away at such an odd time in our lives.

I gulped down the puke that was about to come up and grabbed the knife he was holding out. I cut slowly into his upper arm, he told me to make a slice and when I did he barely flinched. After I put my hand on him to start to heal the wound. And I felt the urge to say sorry for what I'm doing but then he stops me.

“What is that?” I ask, pointing to the beeping device he rips out of his arm.

“I'll explain later, come with me.” He says getting up. But letting me heal him first.

We walk out of Griddy's and he drops the device in a puddle. Looking back at the stores I feel bad for Agnes. I could see her pink headwear poking out from behind the island. At least she wasn't hurt.

..

Five blinked us upstairs into someone’s apartment. I knew it wasn’t his own so I started to get suspicious. “Who lives here?” I ask but get no response.

All of a sudden whoever lives here keys, start to rattle the door as they walk in. Surprisingly instead of some random person that five was going to kill and steal their house. It was Vanya opening the door. I felt a sense of relief.

“Jesus!” She whisper shouts, seeing the two of us in her apartment. We sat on her two living room chairs as Five turned on a lamp to scare her.

“You should have locks on your windows.” He says

“I live on the second floor”

“Rapists can climb” he states and I give him a look.

“You are so weird,” I say. Vanya closes the door and sits on the couch next to us.

No one talks for a second before Vanya asks a question.

“Why are you guys here? And why together?” She asked. I was about to tell her that I'd been kidnapped by a teenager when Five spoke up.

He sighs. “I’ve decided that you're the only one I can trust.” I glanced at him. “The only two I can trust.” He corrects himself.

“Why me?” She questions.

“Because you’re ordinary.” I gave him another glance. “Because you’ll listen.”

He groans. “When I jumped foward and got stuck in the future, do you know what I found?” He asked us.

“No” Vanya shakes her head.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing.” He paused. “As far as I could tell, I was the last person left alive. I never figured out what killed the human race, but. I did find something else.”

“What was it?” I asked. The suspense was killing me.

“The date it happens. The world ends in eight days, and I have no idea how to stop it.”

My jaw was hanging on the ground, that's how much it opened hearing his news. Vanya sat there looking the same.

“I'll put on a pot of coffee.”

…

Aug 14 update:

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