#until it was yanked away from him without explanation

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC PROMPT #25

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Just me building off of other ideas.

✦

Family Reunion

Clockwork sends an adult Danny, newly appointed Ancient of Space, on a mission through time again. Except this time, it isn't located on Earth, but a distant planet he's never even heard of before. Clockwork didn't tell him any specifics on what he was supposed to do or when he was supposed to return to his own time, just to blend in and have an experience. He would know when it was time to return.

Needless to say, he has a blast! His core is bursting with happiness at getting the chance to explore this unknown corner of the universe with a sky full of constellations he's never seen and fascinating locals. Considering he might be here a while, he buckles down and learns all about their culture and their traditions and even eventually learns their language without having to use the two-way translator Clockwork gave him.

He spends decades there, not even having to worry about how he never appears to age, the people here being incredibly long-lived. However, he eventually meets someone. Someone he falls head over heels for. He gets married. He has kids. He watches them slowly grow into adults as well. It isn't until one of his sons informs him that he's expecting his own child(1) that Danny feels a tug at his core.

He ignores it, but over the course of a few weeks, it's gone from the occasional pull to a full-on yank at his entire being, along with a sense of dread that something was going to happen to this wonderful little planet. To his family.

He becomes restless and loses so much sleep, it's a miracle he can even stand. His family are worried for him, but he assures them that he's just feeling a little under the weather. One night, he's sat up in bed, unable to sleep again. His gaze is fixed lovingly on his spouse, but nonetheless sad.

He doesn't miss when all the soft sounds of the night stop and a green glow appears behind him.

"It's time to leave, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"There isn't any way I could stay? I can't bring them with me?"

"I'm afraid not. There are some things that can't be changed or stopped, even when they fall into your domain. I'm sorry."

"Why send me here just to make me abandon them like this? What was the point?"

Clockwork is silent, but when Danny turns to look at the ghost, he's gone.

Danny takes a few more precious days to spend time with his family. Kiss his spouse. Hug his kids. Feel the strong kicks of his grandchild he won't be there to witness the birth of.

The night he leaves, he places a letter on his spouse's nightstand, gently kisses their forehead, and disappears in a flash of green, never to be seen again.

Years later is when Danny gets the news. That the planet Krypton is no more and that his family is gone. He searched the Ghost Zone for them, but he never knew the location of Krypton in the cosmos. Their afterlife is beyond his reach, in a place that isn't even on the Infamap.

He nearly drowns himself in grief when he finds a sliver of reprieve in the form of a news broadcast. An extraordinary man in blue and red with the kryptonian symbol for such emblazoned on his chest is shown fighting off multiple enemies at once. He is the spitting image of his father and Danny as well.

He had a grandson. His grandson was alive.

✦

(1) This was Kara, not Clark. Danny left before he even found out about Kal-El being in the oven, so there will be a misunderstanding at first. Then Kara pops up later, and Danny just bawls his eyes out that he had two surviving grandchildren without even knowing it this whole time. How he first meets either of them is up to you!

(*) What this means power-wise for Clark is yours to decide. As well as what Clark already knows about his grandfather from the stored information his father left him. What his father thought of Danny disappearing without a word is also up for you to decide.

[nanamisgirly]

you're bit too possessive toward your nerdྀི

the moment you spot them through the glass wall of the library study room, something primal inside you snaps.

your nerd. your sweet, tall, stuttering nerd.

and some other girl leaning all over him. all giggles and twirls of her stupid hair, looking up at him like he hung the stars. you can practically see the way her fingers brush “innocently” against his forearm. and gojo—this sweet, beautiful idiot gojo. he's just smiling, shyly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, completely, utterly oblivious of the advances the girl is making.

you see red. not the cute, flirty kind of jealous. no. 

you see murder.

by the time you stomp into the study room, he lights up the second he sees you—like a golden retriever seeing its favorite person. “babyy!” he blurts, half-standing so fast he nearly knocks over the chair. his knees bang the table. his pen scatter. he's flushed pink already, hands fidgeting with the hem of his stupid neat sweater, beaming at you like you're the sun itself.

meanwhile, the girl beside him falters, confused as hell when you swoop in, grab a fistful of his collar and yank him down into a messy kiss—a possessive and mean one, kissing him like you're marking him, like you're making a fucking declaration.

gojo gasps against your mouth, stunned, but immediately melts, tilting his head to give you more. he kisses back with desperate little noises, afraid if he doesn't, you'll change your mind and leave. when you pull back, he's breathless, blinking at you all dazed and drunk, glasses slipping halway down his nose. “i missed you…” he whispers.

you don't answer him, to focusing on the other girl. staring straight at her awkward form peeking up her books, face pale. you tilt your head and smile—sharp, unfriendly, a predator showing teeth. she scurries away without a word.

gojo blinks between you and the empty chair, confusion pinching his brows. “she…left? we didn't end the explanations—”

you grab his jaw in one hand, squeezing his cheeks until his lips squish pouty. “you,” you hiss, leaning so close your breath fans his pink ears, “are so fucking stupid, satoru.” his wide, panicked eyes blink down at you. “i-i am?” he stutters, looking on the verge of tears just because you're mad at him. “i-i didn't even—i mean…i was j-just doing the private lesson…i-i told you about it!” he babbles, desperate. not understanding a thing.

you shake his head a little by the jaw, making his glasses slip down worse. “yeah, yeah. i agreed on a private lesson." you snarl, voice dripping poison-sweet. "not private fucking sex.” you yank his wrist, dragging him out of the little study room, ignoring the curious heads turning to you. 

satoru stumbles after you, tripping over his own feet—over himself just to keep up. “y-you're mad,” he whines, almost breathless, cheeks burning red. “w-what did i…i didn't—”

his voice gets smaller when you spin around, shoving him back hard against the nearest wall. his back thuds against the cold surface, and he freezes up, chest heaving. “you really don't get it, huh?” 

that dumb, pretty face of his—lips pink from your previous kiss and from him nervously chewing them, his glasses crooked, his hair all messed up—god, you could eat him alive. “you let that clingy bitch touch you like that?” you spit. “smile at her like that? let her giggle and bat her lashes like you didn't already have someone who should be the only thing you look at??”

satoru is practically vibrating in place, like a kicked puppy. his Adam's apple bobs hard when he swallows. “i-i didn't notice!” he chokes out. “i swear, angel, i didn't! i-i didn't even l-look at her. .” your nails scrape up his chest through his hoodie, making him whimper. “you're mine, aren't you, 'toru?” he nods so fast you think he might give himself whiplash. “y-yes!! yours! of c-course, only yours!”

your hand snakes lower, palming the half-chub tenting his sweats. poor thing :( so quick to get hard just from yelling at him. “you're lucky you're cute,” you snap, but your heart is hammering at how real the panic was in his voice. 

you squeeze him through the fabric. his hips jolt into your hand with a pathetic little gasp. you watch his pretty white lashes flutter, poor boy was genuinely confused why you're so pissed—poor sweet nerd who only ever wanted you :((

you click your tongue. “my pretty nerd,” you mock sweetly, squeezing his cock harder through his pants, making his knees buckle. “getting hard just ‘cause i’m scolding you? bet you'd cum just from me slapping your face.” 

“i-i could! i would, i-if that's what y-you—ah!—want,” his mouth works uselessly searching for words, his brain short-circuiting because your hand's still lazily stroking him through his sweats. you lean up, biting his jaw hard enough to make him whines. 

"you’re gonna make it up to me," you murmur against his skin, voice syrupy sweet. "gonna let me use you however I want. gonna be a good boy for me, huh, satoru?" he was towering over you but he was so, so submissive.

he nods so fast again his glasses damn near fall off. "a-anything," he breathes. "please. please let me—lemme be good—i'll be so good, promise!"

[thecheshireprincess]

Loyal

Suguru Niragi x F!Reader

Part of the One Look Collection ✨️

Summary: Niragi doesn't like when other people make you laugh

Content Warning: NSFW (18+); porn with very little plot, smutty smut, just smut fr, jealous/enraged Niragi, Niragi's hands, choking, thigh riding, filthy talk, sex in a public space (what's new?), Daddy kink, curse words

A/N: Uh.

Yeah.

Your head falls back against the plush cushioning of the daybed you're lounging on, an airy laugh falling from your glossed lips. Hatter had approached you and Kuina just moments ago, casually leaning against the patio table to your right and offering the latest juicy Beach gossip. You'd been especially tickled to hear about Last Boss's apparent secret admirer; it was hilarious and confusing to imagine someone actually trying to hold a conversation with him, let alone flirt with the silent and unique man.

Around you, the citizens of The Beach have once again lost themselves in poison-filled glasses disguised as fruity libations, bumping and grinding to the beat of the music as heavy bass rattles their bones. The sun is high in the bright blue sky, not a single cloud in sight to interrupt its shine. That is until an irate Niragi storms out, his violent mood swirling around the pool deck like the most destructive hurricane. The raw power that your boyfriend still holds over the Beach is palpable. Though your relationship had changed him for the better, making him softer and less violent; you still couldn't strip the people of their memories of the old Niragi. When his temper flared on days like this, there was always a visceral reaction. This time, the people around you are distracted from their belligerent escapades to gawk at the way he pulls you up by your wrists and drags you away without a word of explanation.

Your head snaps quickly back in Kuina's direction, exchanging a puzzled look with her as Hatter pays no mind, already chattering away with another group resting at the edge of the glittering pool. "What the fuck?" you demand of Niragi, attempting in vain to yank your wrists from his grasp. His slender fingers only constrict more tightly, likely to leave his mark tattooed on your skin for days to come. He walks you smoothly into the building of the hotel, the freezing cold air hitting your sunkissed skin like hundreds of knives. The man, grumbling under his breath in fury, doesn't stop moving until he's shoved you into the empty elevator; the former occupants smartly scattering quickly from the scene. The pressure on your wrists is temporarily relieved as he punches the door close button, directing the elevator to the correct floor; though you were certain you wouldn't be making it to your destination right away based on what you were seeing.

The elevator doors glide together slowly, closing you off from the rest of The Beach, as if aware you'd be in for it as soon as they were fully closed. In one swift motion, Niragi has his fingers wrapped around the column of your throat, driving your bare back into the burning cold steel of the elevator wall and lifting your feet slightly off the ground. Full control. You can only whimper in arousal as the man hits the emergency stop button, upward movement halting and leaving you locked alone in the tiny metal prison with your infuriated boyfriend.

"Don't you know who you belong to, angel?" He finally demands, speaking for the first time since interrupting your pool day. His face is centimeters from your own, hot breath ghosting across your face as he pants in rage. Hot. His hand remains locked around your throat, thumb squeezing into your pulse point; his wild eyes looking down on you and waiting impatiently for an answer. You whine again, the air being crushed from your lungs in the most glorious way.

"Cat got your tongue, baby? Answer me," he growls, thrusting his knee between your thighs to relieve some pressure on your throat. Him doing so admittedly amplifies pressure elsewhere in your body, but you aren't going to complain. Not about this. You groan lewdly, the carnal sound bouncing between the four walls and making Niragi grin wickedly. "Oh, you like that, angel? Grind your pussy on my leg baby, soak my jeans. Take the pleasure you need from me."

The filthy words falling out of his mouth flow through your veins like molten lava and you obey. Your bikini bottom is soaked through already just from having NIragi's hand at your throat, his thigh pressing into your clothed clit in a way that has you seeing stars without creating additional friction. Your arms instinctively drape across your boyfriend's shoulders, though as always, he's doing all the work to hold you up against the wall.

"Come on, baby," he murmurs wickedly, his free hand coming to rest at your hip to guide you encouragingly, "Feels good, doesn't it?" You should be more ashamed, more aware that this is supposed to be a punishment for something you'd done that Niragi didn't like. But as you rock your hips back and forth against him, your clit catching against his rippling muscles just right, you don't think you'll ever feel shame again. The hot friction you create in riding your boyfriend's thigh makes both of you whine, Niragi's pupils blown wide as he watches you take pleasure from his body.

It isn't long before the sticky slick of your arousal is shining on his dark jeans, your breaths coming heavier as the familiar knot in your belly coils tighter and tighter. "Wanna cum, baby? Do it yourself. I don't think you deserve my help," he snarls, removing his hand from your hip and forcing his long fingers into your mouth instead. You lubricate each digit diligently, licking and sucking on them in time with the grind of your hips against him. Sweat beads at your forehead, a combination of how hard you were working yourself against Niragi and the stifling hot air of the elevator.

"Niragi," you plead with your boyfriend, your cunt a tight, sticky mess already but needing more. He clicks his tongue in mocking, saliva soaked fingers wrapping tight around your jaw to bring your face closer to his. "What is it, baby? Poor thing can't even make herself cum without my help, hm?" You let out a whine of desperation, trying in vain to capture his lips with yours, to increase the pressure against your windpipe, anything to send you over the edge.

"Daddy! Please!" you wail uninhibited, knowing that if anything would get you what you wanted from NIragi, it would be that particular phrase. A feral growl rumbles low in his chest, the man responding in an instant - his hand squeezing against your throat and lips crashing onto yours, the wrathful kiss a mess of teeth and tongue. With a calculated shift of his thigh muscle against your puffy clit, your orgasm wracks through your body violently with a wail of his name; arousal gushing over your boyfriend as you're sure you reach the moon. Niragi rocks his thigh against you through your high, your entire body shaking in overstimulation. Slowly the pressure on your neck is released, and you fall bonelessly against him to catch your breath.

Niragi supports your body for only a moment, taking time to adore how wrecked you look for him; pretty bikini soaked through, mascara running down your perfect cheeks, hair a gorgeously tangled mess. If he didn't have a lesson to teach you this afternoon, he was sure he'd be on his knees for you right this second. Determined though to remind you who you belong to, the man removes his leg from between your thighs, letting you fall to your unstable feet. You're quick to brace yourself against the cool wall, entire body still shaking from the magnitude of the orgasm you'd just experienced.

Niragi's pupils take over his eyes, now a deep abyss that you'd love to drown in as he admires the wet patch of arousal you've marked his dark jeans with. Marked your territory with. Your jelly-like legs sway underneath you as if you were just learning to stand on your own; Niragi finally pressing the button to make the elevator move again. The sudden jerk of the metal box sends you careening into your boyfriend, who takes the opportunity to capture you once again in his arms, tossing you easily over his shoulder. A squeal of surprise escapes you as you're turned upside down, the man's large palm colliding harshly with your barely clothed ass.

"Did you think we were done, angel? I haven't even gotten started with you yet," he teases, carrying you through the hallway on display over his shoulder, much in the way that he would usually proudly tote his rifle around. A sick part of you hopes to run into someone so they can see what a mess you are for your boyfriend, the man in question having the same exact thought.

You're both slightly disappointed as you make it back to your shared room without crossing paths with anyone in the hallway; though you assume the entire Beach had heard by now that Niragi was in a mood today and were doing everything in their power to avoid him. The world spins under you disorientingly as your boyfriend flops your body down across the bed, his palm splaying flat against your bare belly to hold you down under him.

He leans menacingly over you, gaze still fully black as he studies your already wrecked form. "Do you know what you did today, princess?" he questions, his free hand tracing the lacy edges of your floral blue bikini top. You shake your head underneath him, not trusting your voice to answer without cracking. His pierced eyebrow quirks up, disbelieving. He lets out a dangerous chuckle, pressing his thumb against your plush bottom lip and dragging it down before standing and towering over you.

The man removes his leather belt from his pants, eyes flicking to your face with a smirk. Your breath hitches seeing the black piece of leather, the article often being a great source of pleasure pain for you in the bedroom. You're disappointed as he lays it gently on the bed beside you, fingers deftly unbuttoning his pants to allow his red, leaky cock to spring out. "Come here, pretty baby. I'm going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours until you learn your lesson." He gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, sending molten heat burning into your core once again. Your boyfriend's fingers were your favorite hairtie after all.

Niragi guides you by your hair to the floor at his feet, your knees scraping against the carpet harshly. You forget the burn in your flesh entirely as you come face to face with his pretty cock, immediately dragging your wet tongue up the underside of his shaft desperate to taste him. Niragi graciously allows you to have your fun, your hand smearing his pre-cum liberally from the senstive tip down to the base, twisting and jerking your hand over the skin in the way you know that he loves the most. You swirl your warm tongue over his reddened tip, sucking just a bit of him into your mouth as you continue teasing him; shining eyes never once leaving his.

Niragi growls after a few moments of your game, grabbing tightly onto your hair and driving his cock through your swollen lips to hit the back of your throat. The sudden intrusion makes you sputter and gag, but you relax your throat for him as he thrusts into you; fucking your face as he'd promised. He finds a liberal pace that makes you moan around him, the vibration sending the man to cloud nine as his thrusts become sloppy and desperate. Your sharp nails find purchase against his thighs, digging crescent markings into his skin as you balance against him.

"Fuck angel, so good for Daddy," he whimpers, muscles tensing up as he takes pleasure from you just as you had earlier from him. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding his member combined with the provocative look you're giving him through tear soaked lashes send him quickly over the edge, ropes of hot cum shooting into the back of your throat with an untamed growl. With an erotic moan of your own, you swallow every drop of his seed and lick your lips for dramatic effect.

Still catching his breath, your boyfriend pulls you up to him to crash his lips to yours, whining as he tastes himself on you. His hand grips your jaw again, lifting your face to look him in the eye, "Do you remember what you did now, princess?" Your eyes sparkle mischievously, eyeing the leather belt still against the bed. You shake your head, "No Daddy. I didn't do anything wrong."

His eyes widen slightly in mock surprise, an erotic smirk dancing on his lips. "Looks like Daddy needs to teach his brat a lesson in loyalty then." Niragi scoops you up, laying your tingling body down on the bed underneath him. His nimble fingers expertly maneuver the belt around each of your wrists, tying them up above your head in the position that leaves you most vulnerable to him. The leather cuts beautifully into your skin, the bite making you whimper in pleasure and writhe against the fluffy comforter to find the friction you're seeking. Your boyfriend wastes no time stripping his clothes off before yanking your flimsy bikini top out of the way to aggressively drag his teeth against each hardened nipple. While his mouth is occupied, his fingers loop into the soaked bottoms of your bikini, pulling them from your body and running two digits up through your drenched folds with a hum of acknowledgement for how soaked you were. Your full body jolts as his thumb circles your swollen clit a couple of times before he removes his hand completely. Niragi's other hand clamps over your mouth before you can complain about the loss of his touch, effectively shutting you up as he continues.

His hand rubs down his hardened shaft, spreading your sticky arousal over it as he shifts to position himself between your thighs. "Tell me this is the only cock you want to have stretching this tight pussy," he demands, a tiny bit of actual insecurity bleeding through his facade. You whine as his tip presses firmly against your entrance in waiting, "Please baby, it's only you. It's always been only you, Niragi. Please please please fuck me," you mewl in desperation to be filled by him. He growls, sheathing himself inside you with one swift motion; luring a wail from deep inside you, finally having NIragi back at home inside your channel. How he could ever think you wanted someone else, you'd never know. You would, however, tell him as many times as he needed to hear it that you were loyal to him only.

Niragi sets a punishing pace, hips snapping into yours with fervor, his pelvis grazing against your clit with each thrust. One hand grips tightly at your hips, the other pressing against the leather belt binding your wrists together. His lips and teeth find the sweet spot on your neck, sucking his mark into your salty, sweat-soaked skin. You won't last long with him impaling you like this, the ridges of his cock imprinting themselves deliciously against your walls. The squelching sound of your arousal and the strong scent of sex fill the room and make your mind drift away in a haze. With the way that Niragi's thrusts have become erratic, you know he's getting close too. You wrap your legs tightly around his waist, begging the man to fill you with his hot seed, the only right answer for it to be.

"Cum for me, baby. Soak my cock," he pleads breathlessly, his own orgasm definitely impending. With one more stroke and the power of his dirty words of encouragement, your orgasm crashes over you in a wave of heat and pleasure as your back arches off the bed impossibly. Your tight pussy squeezes Niragi so hard it nearly hurts, but the gush of cum you reward him with is so worth it. He reaches his own high just a moment later, emptying his balls into your womb and only adding to the mess that you've made of yourself. Niragi is quick to remove his belt from your wrists, doing so before even pulling his cock out of your cunt, rubbing gently over the reddened welts the leather had left against your delicate skin.

As you come down from your high feeling relaxed and tired from an afternoon of steamy activities, you recognize a flicker of insecurity remaining in your boyfriend's eyes. Your hands, now free of their bind, grip onto his cheeks and pull him down to you once more. "Niragi, I really don't know what this was about, but I love you. I am loyal to you now and forever. I'll remind you every day if I have to," you whisper, hoping with everything in you that he is really hearing and understanding your words.

He smiles - a genuine smile - before pressing a tender kiss filled with his own love for you into your lips. Before things can escalate again, he pulls away and looks away toward the window. "Why was Hatter making you laugh earlier?" So this was about Hatter talking to you.

A laugh bubbles up in your chest and escapes, echoing around your shared room; the kind of laugh you usually reserve just for him. "Baby! He was just telling us about Last Boss's secret admirer!" Niragi's eyes widen slightly initially, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as the information sinks in. Like you said, it was humorous and confusing to think about.

"What?!"

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Masterlist

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Niragi Tag List: @niragisugur1

Please don't hesitate to let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) any of my tag lists! You can specify if there's a character you like or if you want to see everything. Also, my asks and messages are open, PLEASE reach out, I would literally die to interact with you; ily guys endlessly 💕✨️

[umathurwin]

double vision

topper thornton x reader; nsfw 18+, mild dubcon

Summary: Topper… inexplicably keeps getting sucked off by girls he’s never met. He’s not even certain they’re real. He’s fine, really.

not crossposted on ao3! that’s a first!

“Sarah, you’re driving me nuts,” he sighed, letting his forehead thump against the steering wheel. “I think no matter what you pick, they’re gonna be hidden behind your hair.”

She continued to hold different pairs of earrings to her face. “These passport photos are gonna last ten years, Top,” she said, like he was an idiot. “I don’t want to have the wrong earrings for a decade.”

He glanced at the clock on the dash— fuck, he had to be at his parent’s house for lunch in half an hour. If she didn’t get in the damn Walgreens for the photo, he’d be late and God knows his mother would be loaded with smug comments. Why the hell did he even agree to do this for her anyways? She’d broken up with him for the nth time last week and still somehow roped him into driving her to errands.

She decided on plain hoops and flipped the visor up rougher than necessary. “Be right back,” she announced and climbed out of the vehicle. 

Topper sulked into the driver’s seat and watched Sarah stroll into the drugstore. With every passing day, the value of their relationship was slipping in his mind. At least the semimonthly sex was enough to keep his spirits up. 

He jumped when someone yanked his door open, and jumped again when he realized that someone was not Sarah forgetting her Dior lipgloss. 

No, some random girl had just climbed into his car without asking. He sat stunned, waiting for her to apologize and admit she’d gotten in the wrong vehicle, but none of that happened. 

The girl actually didn’t even acknowledge the driver at first, but looked around the parking lot in a panic. He scanned with her, and noticed a man walking down the sidewalk who’d been watching her. She finally looked at Topper with wide, pleading eyes. 

“That’s my ex, he totally sucks. Can you pretend to be my boyfriend for five seconds?”

Okay, that was a better explanation than the sex-trafficking horror stories that were flashing through his mind. He didn’t really get a lot of time to react to her question, though, because the girl was already grabbing his hand and threading her fingers through it, bringing the veiny backside of his palm to her lips. She fake-giggled, playing up the girlfriend role for the audience who had already spotted her in Topper’s Range Rover. 

“Can I kiss you?” she asked, but this time she waited until he nodded before continuing. 

Yeah, Topper didn’t really put a lot of thought into this. His neurotic, easily-irritated ex girlfriend was literally right in the store, and here he was making out with a total stranger to make her ex jealous. At any moment, Sarah could walk out and the damage from her ensuing fit would cause the city to go in debt. 

But something stopped him from giving a fuck— probably the fact that this girl was a really good kisser and she tasted like spearmint and strawberry Carmex, or maybe just the naughty thrill of his actions. Besides, their attempt worked, and when they broke apart, he noticed the ex boyfriend stalking away in a huff. 

“Holy fuck, I owe you one,” the girl sighed, sinking back into her seat and panting almost as much as he was. She looked at him with big eyes, and the way they dragged up and down his figure left him feeling exposed and nervous. “Actually…”

She didn’t say anything else, but the undeniable chemistry spoke for both of them. They leaned in again and kissed, this time a lot more rushed and desperate. His hands folded through her hair as she felt over his toned chest, and things got heated quickly.

Her hands slid down his abs to the button of his shorts, and he didn’t stop her even as she pulled his zipper down and reached into his boxers. He just kept kissing her— fuck, why wasn’t he stopping her? Why did this feel so good and new, like he was an eager teenager again?

Topper gasped into the girl’s mouth when she wrapped a small hand around him. She smiled, either pleased with the size or the way he was so easy for her. “This alright?” she muttered against his swollen lips, and he blurted out a hundred yes’s before this fantasy could disappear.

He didn’t exactly know what he’d been agreeing to, however, because she stopped kissing him and bent down to his lap. She’d pulled his dick out fully and—wait, oh fuck, she was putting it in her mouth—

Sarah rarely went down on him— oral sex was just something she found degrading in all forms. He wanted to respect her wishes, of course, but it pained him. She was the first girlfriend he’d ever had with an aversion to both giving and receiving, two of his favorite parts of sex. 

But this girl, someone he’d never spoken to before, was changing his life. Out of the few times he’d received a blowjob before, nothing compared to this. Her head bobbed up and down his shaft with a perfect seal around his dick. The spit threatened to drip over his pants, but her vacuum of a mouth kept everything except his throbbing cock dry. 

Thinking about his ex (who was returning any minute) spiked a panic response in his brain that was immediately dissolved by this girl’s mouth. Seriously, he was about to melt into the fucking seat. Who the hell was this girl?

“Oh, fuck, oh my God I’m gonna— ah!” he cried out desperately when she sucked a bit harder, encouraging him to finish. “Where should I— oh, shit— I don’t have a towel or anything—”

But the girl didn’t slow down, not even a little, and slid all the way down until her lips grazed where his shorts were yanked open around his dick. The deepthroating had his head slamming against the headrest and eyes rolling back into his skull. 

He came down her throat with a cry, not even caring that anyone walking in this parking lot could look in and see some stranger sucking him off. 

His hand nearly ripped the oh-shit handle off the ceiling as he came, and the other was digging nails into the center console to keep from head-pushing her. She didn’t stop and swallowed down every drop of cum. She even licked off the excess spit when pulling off his deflating cock. The little freak wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and grinned. 

“That was nice. I’ll see you around, boss.” And she got out of the fucking car, just like that. He didn’t even find out her name. 

He stuffed his sensitive dick back into his shorts and zipped up quickly, but was still breathing heavily and seeing spots when Sarah jumped back in the seat— where the girl just sat. She may have even seen her in the parking lot. 

“Good fuck, sorry that took forever,” she mumbled, but he was too fuzzy to process the half-assed apology. Her eyes drew to where he was shaking and blinking aggressively. “What’s up with you?”

Mysterious blowjob felt like an unwise answer. “Low blood sugar.”

“Well, eat some Skittles or something. You’re weirding me out.”

***

Topper, historically, had immense trouble keeping secrets from anyone. Especially when he had one this extraordinary, he had to tell someone. 

“So you got a blowjob from a stranger while Sarah was in the store?” Rafe repeated, barely dragging his eyes up from his phone by the end of Topper’s story. He nodded. “Crazy story, bro. Didn’t know you were getting into the literotica business.”

“I’m serious!” Topper insisted. He was confident that Rafe wouldn’t give a fuck what he does with or without his sister, considering Rafe was the only man on earth more sick of her shit than himself. “One minute, my dick is down some girl’s throat, the next your sister is telling me about the annoying cashier in the store.”

“Who was the girl?” Rafe asked, though his interest level was dropping in favor of his phone’s glowing notification screen. 

Topper thought back to that day. She’d only been in the car for a few minutes— something he’d be embarrassed about in any other situation. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her face, and from what he did remember, he wasn’t sure he’d seen her around before. 

“I’m… not sure.”

“Cool. Ghost blowjob.”

“Why don’t you ever take me seriously?”

“Because you tell stories about ghost blowjobs!” Rafe jeered.

***

Topper was not handling his stress well. 

Midsummers was approaching, and his back-and-forth with the Cameron girl was causing his hair to prematurely gray. It had been a few days since his semi-public obscene encounter— a mysterious girl appearing and going to third base with him should help him, right?

But no. Instead, he found himself awake at 3:25 in the morning and staring at the ceiling. Rather than lose a night to insomnia, he got dressed and went to the gym (thank God the one at the club was open all hours of the day. He didn’t typically take advantage of this, but nights like these proved it useful).

The parking lot was empty upon arrival, and the fella at the check-in desk was literally slumped in his chair and snoring softly. He scanned in as quietly as possible before starting his workout. 

Rap Caviar hummed out eerily over the deserted gym, so he wore headphones as he started lifting some free weights. After a quick warm-up, he worked on some curls and overhead press-ups. With ankle weights strapped on, he did pull-ups on the bars.

Topper stretched his arm across his torso. This place was the only fucking gym in North America that doesn’t keep the interior at 50°, so he was forced to exercise in just a wife beater that he’d soaked through in minutes. 

Partway through his workout, Topper realized he wasn’t alone. It caught him off-guard, as he clearly expected to be alone during his time there, but the new girl was quiet and kept to herself at first.

At first.

They made eye contact, and she winked so quickly he questioned if he’d imagined it. The girl was just doing light stretches, but his greedy eyes kept taking in her black biker shorts and sports bra— clearly she wasn’t the only one affected by the absurd heat.

But her innocent stretching turned lewd, quickly. At one point, he caught himself fully staring at her completing a standing toe touch, and clearly he hadn’t hidden it well from her either. She smirked and messily drank from her water, letting droplets escape her lips and travel down her neck and chest before soaking her top. If you could call it that.

When she sat in a middle split and stretched so thoroughly she moaned, this was Topper’s cue to leave. He could hear her over his fucking headphones. If he didn’t get out of the gym and fast, she’d catch onto the fact that he was definitely rocking a semi from this personal porn show he got.

Well, she’d catch on if she was a real person and not a sleep deprivation hallucination like he was hoping, for some reason. At least that can be fixed with a good week’s worth of sleep. How does one stop emitting some pheromone that turns strange women into sirens?

In the locker room, Topper retrieved his bag and debated taking a shower here to rinse off the weird feelings he’s been experiencing. When he heard footsteps behind him, he didn’t have to turn around to know who was creeping around.

He spun around and sure enough, the girl from the stretching area of the gym was inches away, close enough for him to see the beads of sweat on her forehead. “You’re not supposed to be in here!” he blurted stupidly and jumped back in fear until his shoulders hit the locker. 

The girl looked behind her to the empty room. “No one here to stop me. Are you gonna tell on me?” she smirked, playing with the hem of his tank top at his shoulder. 

Topper swallowed thickly. He shook his head and shut his eyes as her palms slid down his stomach and worked on lifting his shirt off his body. Once his top was off, she dropped to her knees and eagerly looked up at him. 

She didn’t break eye contact as her hands greedily skimmed over his thighs up to his hips. Her fingers nimbly skirted over the elastic of his gym shorts and his brain went into overdrive; he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Wait, no,” he whined with a traitorous thrust of his hips. “I haven’t showered. I—I’m all sweaty.”

A devious smile grew on her face. “Say less.”

She reached under his waistband and pulled it down, freeing his stiffening cock from his shorts. His face burned; that workout had kicked his ass and he knew he probably smelled like man and sweat, but this didn’t deter her in the slightest.

No, in fact, this freak seemed to be spurred on by it, grabbing his dick and going straight to kissing his sack. Topper was so glad he hadn’t chosen leg day that day, because the way she drooled and sucked on the delicate flesh of his balls had his knees giving out already.

This succubus was insatiable, switching between sucking him off and licking at his balls while using her spit to jerk him off. The noises filling the echoic locker room were foul, wet, breathy. When he asked if he could guide her head, she smiled and dropped a “sure, baby” that made him moan.

Topper had never done things as risky, as insane as this before. He was a missionary at 9 PM with the lights on kind of guy, and he always thought rough, kinky sex was for people who had novels worth of problems to share with their therapists. Topper was a normal boy; he wasn’t cut out for getting his cock sucked by two strangers in public within the same week!

But it sure felt good, though. 

His hips thrust forward and she reared back, clearly not ready for his whole length. Topper knew he was a little bigger than average, but he was losing his composure with her velvety warm mouth around his dick. When she pulled off, a thick string of drool connected her swollen lips to his tip. “Careful,” she said hoarsely. 

She dropped her head down until her nose pressed into the taut skin over his pelvis. The coarse hairs dug into her skin but she didn’t mind a bit, letting the drool from her mouth pool around the base of his cock and drip down his balls. It wasn’t easy, and the girl breathed laboriously through her nostrils, but she didn’t stop even as her throat convulsed around him. 

Topper was in distress. Good distress, if such a thing existed. His hands scrambled to find something to hold onto, but the lockers behind him were smooth and solid. It was becoming harder and harder to stand as the mystery girl continued to suck him off, especially when he felt her tongue start to wiggle against his underside. Was she insane?

His orgasm caught even himself off-guard, washing over him all at once with only enough time to push his cock down her throat. He pulsed and jerked around as he came, and the girl obediently swallowed his load. 

She sat back on her heels, smirking up at Topper trying to catch his breath with a beet-red face. Jingling, manager-like keys echoed from the front of the locker room, so the girl scrambled to hide in the showers as Topper redressed. 

The front desk attendant poked his head in to make sure nothing was amiss, clearly still sleepy from his nap. He nodded to the boy who’d just tossed his shirt on, and left. Topper chose to do the same, grabbing his belongings and dipping out before another sex gremlin would climb out of the ceiling vents and steal his clothes. 

***

By the time Midsummers rolled around, the event was all Topper allowed himself to think about. Even Sarah was confused about his excitement about the dinner, but it wasn’t like he could tell her what else was on his mind. 

“Topper, why do you keep looking at the locker rooms?” Sarah asked, sipping on the vodka cran she surely wasn’t allowed to have. “You act like you saw a freakin’ ghost.”

“And what if I did?” he blurted, voice cracking on the final word. His ex girlfriend slash unwilling date to Midsummer’s looked at him strangely but he still straightened his tie and his posture. “I’m going to get a drink.”

“You have a beer right h—”

“It’s too warm!”

Anything to get away from that table. Maybe if he started binge drinking, his hallucinations and stress and other problems would magically go away. He asked for a shot of ‘literally anything’ before burying his pounding head in his hands.

“That’s a real nice suit,” said a voice from behind him, and he awkwardly spun around to see none other than the girl who’d blown him in the gym a couple days ago. “Tan is your color, for sure.”

He gasped. “You’re real!”

She burst out laughing, and Topper looked down when he realized she wasn’t dressed up like the rest of the party. In fact, she wore a tight black button-down with the sleeves rolled halfway up and matching black slacks. She had on jewelry, but her hair was tied up in a loose ponytail. In her hand were two empty champagne glasses.

“Wait… you work here?”

The girl shrugged, setting the glasses on the nearest surface and creeping in on Topper even more. “Of course I do. How else would my broke ass have access to the facilities here?”

Oh, duh. She’s a Pogue. The other girl probably was as well, and that’s why he didn’t recognize either one of them.

“Girl, you’ll never guess what I just heard from—” the pair was interrupted by, of course, the stranger who had jumped into his car at the Walgreens. Also dressed in the server uniform and tied-back hair, down to the matching jewelry. He’s never really looked at the waitstaff before, but they clearly had been looking at him. “Oh my God,” she said to the girl he’d been speaking to. “This is the guy from the parking lot.”

The other girl’s jaw dropped— fuck, he wished he knew their names. “Shut the fuck up. This is the guy from the gym.”

Topper wanted the fucking earth to open up and swallow him whole. They were friends? How much had these two shared about these escapades? Why did he feel so mortified when none of this was even remotely his fault?

To make matters worse, the girls didn’t even get upset with him. He really expected them to be disgusted with each other or himself, or maybe both, but that didn’t happen at all. In fact, the girls smiled excitedly and turned to him. 

“Wanna have some fun?” the taller girl asked.

He looked between the two of them, brows furrowed. “What did you have in m—?”

***

The dark haired girl slammed the closet door shut, flicking the light on and tightening her hair back. “Are you sure no one will come here?”

The other scoffed. “Yeah, like our lazy ass coworkers are gonna go out of their way to get cleaning supplies.”

He stood, unsure what to do with himself. He fidgeted with his tie as the ladies set their sights on him

The dark haired girl used her teeth to nip at the waistband of his black boxers, pulling them down until his involuntarily hard cock sprang up. They both wasted no time taking turns jerking him off and sucking on the tip. 

Holy fuck. Holy fuck, what the hell is happening right now. At this point, it had to be a set-up, right? Like, no one in the world just gets two strange women to suck your dick in public, only for those exact two women to be on their knees for you a few days later? Was it even confirmed that these ladies weren’t ghosts?

One of them choked on his dick and yeah, no, that’s as real as it gets. The girls worked together, looking up at him with wide, eager eyes while they sucked his cock. He just had to watch in awe as they ran their tongues and lips up and down his shaft without looking away for even a moment. 

Not that he could tear his eyes away from this if he wanted to. In fact, the thought of taking a picture so he’d never forget this as long as he lived flashed in his mind, but he was too shy to ask. Not to mention he isn’t sure he’d be able to hold the phone.

Both seemed to want to use his body as a test for their deep-throating abilities. One would push as far down his cock as she could, only come up for air when it wasn’t bearable any longer, and let the other take a turn swallowing him down. Topper’s eyes were in the back of his skull and not a single noise coming from his mouth was a formed English word. 

They were making so much noise and while Topper was thoroughly enjoying it, he worried that someone passing by would hear the nasty slobbering and gagging noises and want to investigate. He wasn’t exactly being quiet either, of course, with his desperate moans and whimpers. 

“Fuck, fuck I’m gonna cum,” he admitted, and the girls seemed to already know what to do. One kept jacking him off as they both waited with tongues out. He finished on both of their faces, painting them while his vision was spotting and his limbs were shaking. He was numb down to his buzzing fingertips. 

He almost felt used, disrespected, as they used the clean towels on the shelves to wipe their faces off. It was like he wasn’t even there, like they’d gotten what they’d wanted as soon as he came. 

He was wrong, though. The taller girl glanced over at the other and back up at Topper. “Say… how big is your backseat?”

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

My last alternate prompt for Fluffebruary is: Anniversary! This is set around July 2028, so about a little over a year after the Baby Fever prompt. It's time to give these boys a baby, and we're going to pretend this all lines up with California's regulations. You can read this on AO3 over here. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary

There were disagreements about what counted as an anniversary for them. Was it their first kiss? Their first date? Maddie and Chim’s wedding? The day they got back together?

Buck liked to joke that the reason they got married so fast was to settle the argument once and for all and give them a single definite date to celebrate.

“That's why?” Bobby asks without looking up from the baseboard he's painting around.

“Yep. Only reason,” Tommy says, pouring more paint into the pan next to Buck's elbow. He drops a kiss on his hair before he disappears out of the room to hunt down the new pack of paintbrushes he swore he'd bought.

“Also taxes,” Buck adds, standing so he can stretch out his back and legs. He's been folded up on the floor while he paints under the window, but there's not a drop of paint anywhere but the wall. “Why'd you marry Athena?”

“Because I couldn't live without her.”

Buck smiles. “Yeah, that, too.”

He surveys the room, formerly the office. It's going to be a nursery for their baby, because the second Bobby had come upstairs with a safe surrender baby in his arms, he'd known. He'd held him and looked into his tiny little face, and he'd known in his heart that he was holding their son for the first time.

He'd called Tommy and asked him to come to the station on his break, and they'd sat on one of the banks and held him and soothed him and fed him and burped him and changed him and talked quietly and cried and fretted over logistics and realized the state’s regulations around safe surrender babies was against them in this case.

“We're not certified to foster.”

And like an angel, Hen poked her head in and pointed out that she was and had already spent forty minutes on the phone with her wife. She also sat down and explained how adopting from foster care worked. By the end of her explanation, the three of them were in tears and sitting on a bunk together and watching every little thing Robbie did. Once he was medically cleared, she and Karen took over legal custody as emergency fosters until the adoption could go through, and they're only a few weeks away from everything being finalized. In the meantime, Buck and Tommy have put in parental leave requests, started the process of filing for FMLA to cover them beyond what LAFD pays for, and they’ve been able to spend as much time with Robbie as possible. Except for today, because today involves a lot of paint and nailing things and putting together furniture and only FaceTiming Hen twice to see him.

“Got ‘em!” Tommy calls from down the hall. When he enters the room, he's got a fistful of paintbrushes so they can deal with the trim and baseboards.

“After this, I'll head home,” Bobby says, dipping the brush in one of the smaller cans of paint. “Give you two some time alone.”

Buck smiles and takes the can when Bobby offers it. “Thanks for helping.”

“Well, it's my first grandkid,” Bobby points out, squeezing the back of Buck’s neck and giving him a shiny-eyed smile.

“Yeah,” Buck agrees happily, reaching up to hook his hand over Bobby's elbow and giving it a squeeze before they return to their respective tasks.

It had taken them sitting Bobby down to talk about the baby's name for Bobby to really understand.

“Italian families normally name the firstborn son after the paternal grandfather. I don't want him to be named after my father, who wasn't even Italian, and Evan—well.”

“Robert. Robert Gianni. Gianni was his Nonno’s name, he's kind of the closest thing Tommy ever had to a real dad. And you're the closest I'll ever get. I-is that okay?”

Bobby had pushed away from the table, come around, and yanked Buck into a hug. All he'd been able to do was nod. After that, he'd stopped rolling his eyes whenever anyone would call him “Grampa Bobby.” Instead, he's taken to teasing Athena with progressively sillier sounding options for her until she had threatened to cuff him to her bumper after they were all done with lunch. She'd told Buck and Tommy to just have her go by “Gramma” and hit them with a stunner of a smile when she said it.

“I like this color,” Bobby comments as he swipes paint across the door trim. The room is a pale green, and Buck had agonized over it for days until Tommy had swooped in and pointed to the one Buck liked more anyway.

“It's supposed to be calming,” Buck says, and Bobby snorts. “Yeah, that's what Tommy said.”

“Whatever helps,” Bobby says dryly.

When the room is done being painted, Bobby heads out with the promise to come back to help hang shelves and artwork the next day.

“Get some sleep, boys!” Bobby calls over his shoulder as he descends their porch steps. “You'll need it.”

Tommy barks out a laugh. “Like I haven't been getting woken up out of a dead sleep by alarms for almost twenty years.”

“Yeah, we've been practicing for this,” Buck agrees.

“Whatever you say,” Bobby says, opening the front gate.

They go back inside, and Buck stands in the middle of the nursery to survey the space, satisfied that they won't need another coat of paint. As he contemplates what color rug they should get, he hears a board creak behind him. Two strong arms snake around his waist and a chin rests on his shoulder, and Buck relaxes into the familiar embrace.

“Want to order something?” Tommy asks. “I don't know if I'm up for cooking.”

“Might not be a bad idea,” Buck replies, leaning back against him. “You know, this isn't how I pictured our second wedding anniversary going.”

“Mm, me either. But this is perfect.” Tommy kisses the side of his neck. “What's the traditional second year gift?”

Buck tilts his head and lets his eyes flutter shut as Tommy's lips keep pressing against his skin. “Cotton,” he sighs.

Tommy chuckles and nuzzles his neck, sending pleasant tingles along Buck’s spine. “Hey, we got plenty of that. Crib sheets, onesies, burp cloths, bibs—I think we nailed it.”

Buck turns in his arms and wraps his own around Tommy's neck, smiling at his husband’s beautiful face. “You're totally right.”

“Am I?” Tommy teases, ducking in to kiss his neck and eliciting a laugh out of Buck when his stubble tickles him. “Then I guess I can return your gift—”

“No!” Buck howls, laughing harder when Tommy’s arms squeeze him tighter as he tries to half-heartedly struggle away.

“Okay, okay.” Tommy concedes, rocking them gently side-to-side. “You'll get your gift.”

Buck slips a hand under the waistband of his sweats to grope his ass. “Is it in cotton?”

Tommy growls against his shoulder and lifts Buck, which he never gets sick of. He lets out an undignified squeak as he wraps his legs around his husband.

“Okay, I got you two gifts,” Tommy admits, kissing him as he walks them out of the room. “Which one do you want first?”

“The one I get to unwrap right now,” Buck murmurs, grinding against his belly. “Especially since this will be a lot harder to do in just a couple weeks.”

Tommy grins and nuzzles his nose against the underside of Buck’s jaw. “Yeah? Big plans?”

“Thought I might give fatherhood a try,” Buck says as Tommy draws his face back to maneuver them through the hall. “You in?”

“With you? Absolutely,” Tommy replies, his grin softening around the edges. “Completely and forever.”

Buck can't hold back his giddy grin, and he hugs Tommy tightly as he's carried across the threshold to their room.

[princessbrunette]

imagine it’s like a week to valentine’s day and reader is pouty rafe hasn’t asked her but he just assumed they’re automatically each other’s valentines but reader doesn’t think that so shes just like :(((

maybe i can do angst cos omg ……..

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

you waited n waited all of february for him to ask, even up until the night before. you knew grand gestures in a relationship wasn’t exactly his vibe, unless of course he’s threatening to kill someone for you— but you thought he’d atleast ask. you’ve spent the day with him, waiting for him to pop the question and now he’s dropping you home, pulling up outside your house.

you stare out the window, before turning to look at him.

“see you tomorrow, yeah?” he eyes you, a little confused by your unusual quietness. you stare at him for another moment before bursting into tears. “hey— hey? woah? the fuck just happened?” his eyes widen, tilting his head to get a better look at you.

“why—” you hiccup. “why don’t you want me t’be your valentine?”

“wh—” he has the audacity to laugh, closing his eyes for a moment in disbelief before squinting at you. “so— so, lemme get this straight— we’ve been dating for, how long now? you got me talkin’ your ear off about how i’m gonna put a ring on your finger one day, fuckin’… fill you up with babies, but you think i’m not your valentine?”

“you’re supposed to ask me.” you mewl and he closes his mouth, looking around as he collects himself, running a hand over his jaw.

“i-i didn’t know i was supposed to. alright— i’m-i’m kinda new to all this shit, baby you’re the first fuckin’ girl i’ve taken seriously in forever n’i’m expected to know this shit straight off the bat without you tellin’ me? ‘n i’m the bad guy?” he rants, pointing to himself with both hands which prompts you to swiftly open your door and get out the car, shoulders wracking with sobs as you walk toward you car. “shit.” he whispers between grit teeth before punching his steering wheel and yanking his door open, walking around the car to follow you.

“okay— hey, look at me. stop, stop.” he jogs to catch up, appearing infront of you, holding you by the arms to stop you from walking. you look down, sniffling and he sighs, wiping the tears away. “look i… i shouldn’t have said that, okay? i just— i lost my temper ‘cus… i feel like i’m not doin’ right by you when i’m really trying i mean i got the reservations and the flowers and everything for tomorrow…i just…” he explains helplessly, brows furrowed. you look up at him, and he can tell you’re feeling swayed by his explanation.

he clears his throat. “so, uh… will you be my valentine please?”

you can’t help it, a smile breaks out on your face even despite the sassy way he said it, nodding your head. you sniff, batting your wet eyelashes at him.

“yeah.”

“yeah? not gonna freak out on me again?” his own smile starts to build and you shake your head happily. “alright. good.” he pinches your cheeks and presses a long kiss to your forehead before pulling back, pointing a finger at you. “so i’ll pick you up tomorrow, yeah? wear something pretty for me alright?”

you seem satisfied enough and he watches you skip off happily before he saunters back to his car, climbing in and sighing, resting his arms on the steering wheel. “you are so fucking whipped, man.” he drawls to himself.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

[reijisteacup]

Hiii can I ask for a reaction to the diaboy's s/o wearing a revealing outfit and then crouching down in front of many men? ( you can do sfw of nsfw it's up to you) I love your writing btw !

AWEE THANK YOU ANON <3333

=================================================================================================

Sakamaki's

Shu Sakamaki:

He says nothing at first—but the air around him chills. He was lounging lazily, half-listening to your conversation, until you bent down and those men’s eyes trailed a little too far. His eyes open—slowly. “...You’re bold today, aren’t you?” he drawls, voice lazy but eyes sharp. Later, he corners you in private. "Did you want their attention? Or were you just that unaware?" He presses close, lips grazing your ear.

“Next time you bend like that... make sure I’m the only one watching.”

Reiji Sakamaki:

This is the kind of behavior he hates. Reiji views you as a reflection of his standards—refined, dignified, untouchable. The moment you crouch down in that outfit, in front of men who are practically devouring you with their eyes, he sees red. He calmly adjusts his gloves, walks straight up, and places a firm hand on your back. “Stand up. Now.” His smile is sharp. “Your conduct reflects poorly on me, and I will not tolerate it.” Expect punishment later—not out of cruelty, but to "remind you who owns you."

Laito Sakamaki:

He smirks... a little too darkly. Jealousy thrills him, but only if he is in control. The moment your outfit starts drawing eyes and your posture gives them a better view, Laito leans in and wraps an arm around you. "Fufu~ Bitch-chan, are you trying to start something fun in public?" His grip tightens. “I don’t share, you know. If you want to be a tease, then I’ll be the one to make you regret it.” Expect an overly possessive night with him clinging to you—and possibly making you wear less... but only for him.

Kanato Sakamaki:

His rage is quiet, but volatile. He doesn’t yell—he smiles. But the second you crouch, and he sees the other men eyeing you, his nails dig into Teddy’s plush fabric. “You’re being very indecent today, aren’t you?” he says sweetly. "Do you like having disgusting men look at you like that?" Later, he’ll tie you to the bed and dress you in something modest—but still mark you up enough that no one could mistake who you belong to.

Ayato Sakamaki:

Explodes immediately. He was laughing with you seconds ago, then noticed the eyes on you—and saw way too much skin from that angle. “The hell do you think you’re doing!?” He grabs your arm roughly, dragging you up without explanation. “Oi! That outfit’s for me to see, not those bastards!” He’s possessive, emotional, and jealous as hell. Expect a very heated make-out later, with a whole lot of “mine” growled between kisses.

Subaru Sakamaki:

Poor Subaru goes from normal to blood-boiling in a second. He sees the outfit, tries to keep it together... but when you crouch down in front of all those guys? He glares daggers at everyone nearby and physically yanks you upright. “The hell is wrong with you!?” He’s so red in the face. “You—you can’t do that where people can see—!” His reaction is half-protective, half-possessive. Later, when you’re alone, he’ll bury his face in your shoulder and mumble,

“Don’t... let them see you like that. Please. That’s... just for me.”

Mukami's

Ruki Mukami:

Stone-faced fury. He watches silently, jaw clenched, as you crouch and the men’s eyes track every inch of skin. He says nothing... until he grips your arm and guides you away with unnatural calm. “I suggest you choose your behavior more wisely,” he says coldly. “Unless, of course, you enjoy being treated like a cheap spectacle.” You’ll get punished—not cruelly, but deliberately. He’ll make you kneel in front of him, properly.

“If you’re going to be on your knees, livestock, do it for your master only.”

Kou Mukami:

He puts on a smile. “Aww~ You look so cute today, M-Nyan!” But the second you crouch, his smile freezes. He sees the leering men. He strides over, places a hand on your waist, and makes sure everyone sees the possessiveness in his touch. “Let’s get you out of the spotlight, pretty boy~ You’re too tempting today~” Later, he’ll either sulk or go feral depending on how intentional he thinks it was. Either way, he’ll dress you himself next time. Carefully. And thoroughly.

Yuma Mukami:

"Oi! The hell kinda outfit is that!?" He bellows across the room. When you crouch? Table flipped. “The fuck are you doin’ bendin’ over like that!?” He’s furious—but it’s because he sees people as predators. He knows how men look at something they think is "available," and he wants to rip them all apart. He’ll throw his jacket over you and growl, “You’re mine, damn it. You wanna show off? Fine. But only when I’m watchin’. Not them.”

Azusa Mukami:

He doesn’t react at first—until he notices where everyone’s eyes go. Then he looks... heartbroken. “Do... you want them to look at you like that?” he asks quietly. He doesn’t yell or get violent. He just... withdraws. Later, he admits it makes him feel like he isn’t enough—like maybe you want someone more “normal.” You’ll need to reassure him. If you do, he’ll hold you close and whisper, “You’re... only mine, right? Then... please don’t let anyone else see you like that again...”

Tsukinami's

Carla Tsukinami:

Carla doesn’t react outwardly at first. No yelling. No twitch. But when you crouch in that outfit and the men’s eyes drift toward your exposed skin, something ancient and cold shifts behind his silver gaze. He finishes his glass of wine slowly and says in a quiet, unreadable tone. “You have five seconds to remove yourself from that position.” He doesn’t say it loudly—but everyone hears it. There's a pressure in the room, suffocating and regal, as if death itself is looming behind his shoulder. Once you’re alone, he locks the door, presses you against it with a hand at your throat—not to hurt, but to remind.

Shin Tsukinami:

Shin has zero chill. The second you crouch in that outfit and give a show to a crowd of men? He growls. Not figuratively—literally. Everyone hears it. He’s on his feet, fangs bared, storming toward you before you’ve even stood back up. “Are you serious right now!?” He grabs your wrist and yanks you up—harder than needed—but it’s pure instinct. He doesn’t care who’s watching. He throws his jacket over your shoulders and glares down every man nearby. “Look again, and I’ll rip your eyes out.” Back in private, he slams the door shut and starts pacing like a caged animal. “Why would you wear that in front of them? Why would you crouch like that—bend over like some—” He stops himself. He doesn’t want to call you names. He’s not mad at you, he’s mad that anyone else saw.

[scary-grace]

Opposites Attract - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your quirk lets you capture almost anyone with ease, and you can't believe you let Shigaraki Tomura escape. Shigaraki can't believe it, either, and according to the League, there's only one possible explanation -- you let him go because you've fallen in love with him. He decides to find out if it's true. You decide you won't fail to capture him again. You both get a lot more than you bargained for. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Chapter 1

This was supposed to be your day off. It’s all you can think about, which isn’t a good thing, because you’re in the middle of a villain attack and using your quirk at all requires a significant amount of your focus – but it was supposed to be your day off, dammit. You’re supposed to be doing something fun. Going shopping. Getting a haircut, or mani-pedis, and going out for drinks with your friends at a place crawling with photographers. All the stuff young, single, female pro heroes are supposed to do. So what if you hate that stuff, and you were probably going to sleep all day, wake up at 5pm, make dinner, and marathon the Alien franchise until you fell asleep again? You could have gone out.

But instead you’re here, because Eraserhead caught himself another spinal fracture, and when the doctors threatened to tie him to the bed if he tried to leave before they were done fusing it, he called in a favor you owe him and made you supervise his first-year-class from hell on a field trip to the brand-new Kamino Memorial Park. Go to Kamino Park, they said. It’ll be safe, they said. There’s no way in hell the League of Villains will hit the place a second time.

Well, they’re hitting it, and they’re hitting it hard – and it was supposed to be your goddamn day off. You throw out your arm to stop the trio of students you’re shepherding to safety as three knives thud into the grass in front of you, and make yourself a promise: The next time Eraserhead asks you to do anything, you’re telling him to go to hell.

“Hey, um –” One of the students taps your shoulder, and you know without even asking that they’ve forgotten your name again. “We got our provisional licenses. We can fight now.”

“You can, but you won’t. Create a perimeter and protect the civilians,” you order. You’re not sure why the League of Villains is here, but there’s no way you’re feeding a bunch of kids back into the same meat grinder they escaped from a month ago. “Other pros are on their way, and so are the police. In the mean time –”

You flick your fingers, calling up a magnetic field, and the knives lift out of the grass, hovering in midair. “I’ll keep them busy.”

You consider taking the knives and sending them back the way they came, but unless you want to fatally wound Toga, you’ll just be handing her weapons back to her. You curl your hand into a fist, compacting them into useless wads of metal. You’ve already used your quirk to tear up the park, creating uneven, unsteady terrain that’s dangerous for anybody who doesn’t have a way to take the fight airborne. Now it’s time for you to do what you do best. You narrow your focus, sensing out the concentrations of suspended iron that represent the League of Villains, and once you’ve got them, you lock them down.

Most of them, anyway. One proves a little more difficult to grasp than the others, and you get moving, using one hand to pull rebar and wiring out of the ground. You need it to ensnare the three you’ve already captured while you chase the villain who slipped away from you. You secure Toga and Twice, but Dabi burns his way free, and Twice sends a clone after you. Since it’s a clone, you don’t feel bad about yanking every molecule of trace metals out of its body and turning it to sludge.

Dabi’s on his feet, but you’re a bad matchup for Dabi for a lot of reasons. He’s got a ton of extra metal in his body. He throws his hands out towards you, blue flames already flickering. You fix your quirk on the staples holding him together and start pulling them out.

“What the fuck?” Dabi snarls, recoiling. Blood is already beginning to ooze from the holes on his wrists. “If you think you can just take me apart –”

You yank out another two – one from each wrist. “Stand down. You’ll run out of those before I run out of power.”

It’s true. Your quirk is Magnetism, and using it is easy for you. Using it safely is something else, but you can yank out every staple in Dabi’s body without breaking a sweat or destroying any property. Not that you want to do that. “I don’t want to hurt you, so just –”

There’s a shift in metallic concentration just behind you, and you dive to one side, just in time to avoid Shigaraki Tomura’s hand as it tries to close over your shoulder. A Twice clone is after you, too. You take the staples you pulled out of Dabi and fire them through its eye and throat as you roll out of Shigaraki’s reach. The leader of the League of Villains laughs, low and raspy. “Killing somebody? That’s not very heroic.”

You hate it when villains banter, but you’re not letting that one stand. “That’s not the real Twice.”

You’ve got the real one, and now you’ve got Dabi, too – at least for a few seconds. Maintaining a hold on Dabi, Twice, and Toga at once is within your abilities, but doing that and trying to capture Shigaraki at the same time – and maintain the barriers you’ve set up – and stay sharp enough to bounce Shigaraki into midair if he tries to touch the ground and vaporize Kamino Memorial Park out from under your feet – all of that is testing your concentration. When you lose concentration while using your quirk, bad things happen.

Shigaraki reaches for you again. A hero like Eraserhead would retaliate physically, kick or hit back, but you don’t want to be anywhere near Shigaraki’s quirk. You draw back out of reach, taking a step back every time Shigaraki steps forward. “You’re an underground hero,” he says. “Didn’t you learn what we do to underground heroes from what happened to Eraserhead?”

“Yeah. He shook that off, and sent me to take care of his light work.” The longer you can drag this out, the better – you can hear sirens approaching, and you know that Yokohama’s other pros are on their way. “Isn’t this a little high-risk for you? Returning to the scene of the crime so you can – what?”

Shigaraki sneers at you from behind the hand. “What do you think?”

You really couldn’t care less. Someone shouts for you, and your concentration slips for a second too long. You have to decide who to let go of, and between the three you’ve restrained, Toga’s the least dangerous. You let your control over the iron concentration in her blood relax and focus on trying to restrain Shigaraki instead. He’s hard to get ahold of. His body’s iron concentration is less than it should be. You lock him down for a second, but you can’t get a grip, and he slips free, smirking. “I know who you are,” he says. “The Capture Hero – Skynet. Not much of a capture hero, huh? You can’t even hang on to me. Are you sure the villains you’ve bagged didn’t let you get them?”

“No, they just didn’t have anemia,” you snap. Shigaraki blinks. “You don’t have enough iron in your blood for me to manipulate.”

Anemia’s not uncommon, but you’ve never come across a case this severe in someone you’re trying to capture. His iron concentration is so low that you can’t hold him for more than a split second. That level of anemia is crippling, and the words fly awkwardly out of your mouth before you can stop them. “Are you, like – okay?”

“What?”

He’s stopped trying to grab you. You should capitalize on it, pull up more rebar and wire to hold him down, but your mind’s off on its own track. “Do you get headaches?” you ask. “What about dizziness? Do you get tired a lot?”

Shigaraki looks disconcerted. He nods – then shakes his head, snarls, and sinks back into a fighting stance. “Why do you care?”

“What about a rapid heart rate even when you’re not doing anything?” When he’s doing something, like he is right now, it’s got to be even worse. You two have been trading barbs for thirty seconds at most and he’s out of breath. “You need to take care of yourself. This isn’t healthy.”

“Shut up!” Shigaraki lunges for you, and you twist aside. You get a good look at his fingernails as his hand goes by. They’re pale instead of pink. “Why do you care? So you can capture me and keep your precious reputation?”

You’re actually a little insulted. “So you don’t die!”

Shigaraki stares at you. The hand reaching out for you drops, and you close the distance between the two of you to shove him hard, knocking him backwards. Once he hits the concrete, you’ll figure something else out. You can hold him until someone else gets here.

But someone else is here, and they’re not here to help you. Shigaraki tumbles directly into a warp gate, staring at you like you’ve lost your mind the entire way.

Damn it. You can’t grasp the warp villain – wherever his real body is, it’s a long way from here, and you’re at risk of losing Dabi and Twice now, too. You tighten your grip on them, but even as you do, you see another portal opening out of the corner of your eye. This one is in midair, threatening to swallow a group of civilians who decided that hiding behind the All Might statue was a better choice than evacuating like the students ordered them to. “The civilians, or my associates,” the warp villain rumbles, from everywhere and nowhere. “Your choice.”

It's not a choice. You release your grip on Dabi and Twice, both the iron in their blood and the metal and wire holding them down, and warp gates devour them both. The warp gate above the civilians shuts, decapitating the All Might statue in the bargain, and as quickly as everything began, it grinds to a halt.

“Skynet!” someone snaps from behind you, and you freeze. “You let them go?”

Miruko is Number Six on the charts, and she outranks you by a lot, but you still bristle at her tone. “The civilians –”

“If you’re not stopping villains, you’re not doing your job.” She looks pissed. You have a feeling that she’s only holding off on kicking you because it’ll look bad in front of everybody. “If you’d held onto them a second longer, I’d have been here, and –”

“We could have helped!” That’s one of Eraserhead’s students – the one with the spiky red hair. “If you’d let us help –”

“You’re just kids. Do you have any idea what Eraser would do to me if I had –” You trail off when you realize that whatever it is, Eraser’s going to do it to you anyway for even letting the kids near the League of Villains. “I was the senior hero at the scene. It was my call. If you did what I told you – which you did – you did the right thing.”

“You did the right thing,” Miruko says to the student. The police are here. The cars skid to a stop, and you feel the iron concentration in what’s left of the park shift. There’s a helicopter in the air, too. More people, more cameras. Miruko is glaring at you. “You’re the one who screwed up.”

Yeah, you did. You stare dispiritedly at the headless statue of All Might as Eraser’s class regroups around you, as somebody starts questioning Miruko – the new senior hero at the scene – about what went wrong here. A few thoughts spin through your head, mainly of the hell you’re about to catch from the press, the heroic establishment, and the HPSC. Shigaraki Tomura’s case of life-endangering anemia makes it in there, and so does a hit of frustration at the fact that you’re in trouble for choosing to save a bunch of civilians from getting bisected by a warp gate. But the main thing that’s on your mind is the same thing that’s been there since the first spurt of blue flames erupted over the park: This was supposed to be your day off.

“Well, that blew,” Dabi says as he picks himself up off the floor of the League’s new hideout. “Whose idea was this, again?”

He’s glaring at Shigaraki. Shigaraki glares back. “I didn’t hear you say we shouldn’t do it.”

“I said we shouldn’t,” Twice pipes up. He’s still got a piece of rebar wrapped around his ankle. “No, it was a great idea!”

It seemed like a great idea when Shigaraki thought of it last night – go to Kamino Park, rattle the heroes’ cages, show everybody that the League of Villains isn’t scared of anything and isn’t even close to down for the count without Sensei to guide them. Then again, Shigaraki was three cans deep into a twelve-pack Compress had lifted last night, so his judgment might have been off. Twice is still talking. “I mean, we scared the piss out of those civilians. Those hero brats were running scared, too! And did you see what Kurogiri did to that All Might statue?”

“No,” Shigaraki says. He looks at Kurogiri. “What did you do?”

“Over there.” Kurogiri points, and Shigaraki looks. The head of the All Might statue is sitting on the warehouse floor. “It would have been a shame to leave without a trophy of some kind.”

“It’s on the news,” Magne sings out. She opted out of mission, and now she’s watching it on the League’s TV, lifted last week by Compress, which is hooked up to their generator, which was also lifted by Compress. “And it’s not looking too good for the heroes. That little one’s in big trouble.”

“Good. She’s a bitch,” Dabi mutters. His hands are bleeding. “What was that quirk, anyway?”

“Magnetism,” Shigaraki says. He feels weird. Maybe it’s the quirk. “She can manipulate magnetic fields. Any metal, on any of us –”

“I didn’t have any!” Twice protests.

“Then she used the iron content in your blood,” Shigaraki says. You told him how you were restraining the others. Amateur mistake. Or it would be, if there was any way to not have iron in his blood – but that’s a problem, too. “She couldn’t grab me. She said I didn’t have enough.”

“Is that so?” Kurogiri studies Shigaraki. “Did she say anything else?”

“Anemic.” It’s a weird word. Shigaraki scratches his neck. “She was weird about it. She wanted to know if I get headaches, or dizzy – or tired –”

The answer’s yes, which is why it was weird. It was weird that you knew. But the weirdest thing is what you said at the end. “She asked me if I was okay, and when I asked her why she gave a shit –”

“She answered you?” Magne mutes the TV, looking surprised. “What did she say?”

“What did I miss?” Toga skids into the warehouse before Shigaraki can answer. “I got away, but none of you came with me, so I went to the meeting spot alone. What happened?”

“The hero let us go,” Dabi grunts. “Shigaraki was just telling us about a little chat they had.”

“Ooh, you talked to her?” Toga sits down next to Twice on the ground, peering at Shigaraki. “What did she say?”

“She doesn’t want me to die.” Shigaraki feels his face contort behind Father’s hand as he says it. “Weird.”

“Weird,” Twice agrees. “Since when do heroes play mind games like that?”

It’s quiet for a second. “So she asked if you were okay and she doesn’t want you to die,” Dabi says slowly. “I don’t know, Shigaraki. It sounds kind of like she likes you.”

Shigaraki’s mind goes totally blank. “What?”

“You must have won her over,” Magne chimes in. “All that charisma you’ve got – how was a poor underground hero supposed to resist the leader of the League of Villains?”

You seemed like you were resisting just fine, until you couldn’t grab him. But it’s weird that you weren’t angry. You actually sounded like you were worried. Like you really cared whether Shigaraki has anemia, or whatever the fuck. Like you care if he’s okay. “Don’t be stupid. That’s not –”

“Come on, boss, don’t sell yourself short,” Twice says. “If you can seduce any hero you want, how come you didn’t seduce Miruko?”

“Ooh, Miruko’s so pretty!” Toga grins. “The other one’s okay, too. What was her name again?”

Shigaraki coughs, trying to make his throat feel less weird, but it’s not just his throat. It’s his face, too. “Skynet.”

“You said she was getting in trouble. I bet that’s why,” Dabi says to Magne. “They must have all figured out that she’s in love.”

“Shut up,” Shigaraki says. Nobody listens. He raises his voice. “Shut up! The mission was a success. Why aren’t we talking about that?”

“We are,” Toga says. Her grin’s devolved into a goofy, dazed smile. “You have to teach me how, Tomura-kun. If we make the heroes fall in love with us, it’ll be even easier to win! I want Ochako. No, Tsu. No, Izuku –”

Shigaraki stops listening. He picks himself up off the floor, hating the way his head spins, and makes his way over to Kurogiri. Kurogiri studies him. “Anemic,” he repeats. “The hero listed the symptoms of iron-deficiency anemia. Do you experience any of them?”

Shigaraki doesn’t answer. Kurogiri waits, just like he always waits, and Shigaraki figured out a while ago that the fastest way to make the itching stop is to answer the question. “Some of them,” he says. Kurogiri’s eyes tilt in the way that means he thinks Shigaraki’s full of shit. “Fine. All of them. So what?”

“Did she say anything else?”

Are you okay? “No,” Shigaraki says, pushing away the memory of how fast your expression shifted, how you went from focused on keeping Shigaraki’s comrades trapped and trapping him the exact same way to looking – worried. “That was it. Kurogiri, do you –”

“Yes, Shigaraki Tomura?”

“I mean, they’re just – they’re joking, right?” Shigaraki keeps his voice quiet. If any of the others hear this, he’s going to have to kill them. And maybe also himself, so he won’t have to remember that he thought about this at all. “There’s no way anybody – I mean, a hero – would like me. They’re kidding. Aren’t they?”

He wants Kurogiri to say yes. He wants him to say yes fast, and then to not pick on him for even considering it, and then to forget this ever happened. Instead Kurogiri thinks about it. “It is not impossible that they are correct,” he says. “Her behavior was unusual for a hero in her position. And it is likely that she knows more about you than you do about her. Perhaps she does have a certain – perception of you.”

“Great.”

“It could be,” Kurogiri muses. “She drew your attention to an issue that impacts your health, and therefore your effectiveness as All For One’s successor. And she chose to let you go. If the hero known as Skynet does have a soft spot for you, it has worked undeniably in your favor. It might behoove you to allow her to continue to nurse it.”

“Yeah, no.” Shigaraki shoots that idea down immediately. Any idea that makes him feel that weird is obviously a bad one. “I’m not going to track her down and say I’m not interested, but the next time I run into her, I’m saying it and you can’t stop me. None of you can stop me.”

He raises his voice, making sure everyone hears, and everyone looks up from whatever they’re doing. “Of course we can’t,” Magne says. “But you’re naïve if you think you can stop her. Nothing can stop a hero on a mission.”

“And nothing can stop true love!” Toga smiles at Shigaraki. “I believe in us, Tomura-kun! We can win their hearts together!”

The weird feeling multiplies. Shigaraki scratches hopelessly at the side of his neck and thinks about the remains of last night’s twelve-pack. Getting drunk again isn’t going to help, but it’s hard to imagine it making things worse.

Chapter 2 ->

[bzurk]

ghost x selkie!reader

cw: abduction

Until the day she came to land and shed her skin lying in the sand, He stole what he believed he earned and took her by the hand, And he said: "Selkie, now you belong to me!"

“Please,” the soldier's mind was abruptly yanked from his thoughts as a soft, pleading voice pierced through the air. Neutral brown eyes met the sight of a young woman, standing bare and vulnerable, her eyes flitting from the coat in his hands to the pod of seals retreating from the sand into the ocean. “Would you kindly return my pelt?”

Ghost had, unwittingly, heard tales of Selkies, whispered amongst the elderly of the coastal town, all rumour and gossip he had overheard - bewitchingly beautiful beings who slipped between seal and human forms, wild and untamed like the sea itself. They were rare, elusive, creatures of legend. He often wondered where the stories came from. Now, faced with the reality, he stared at you, his gaze roving over your naked body, lingering on the enticing swell of your hips and thighs, as if tracing the curves of a precious sculpture.

"Please," you repeated, your voice trembling as you took a hesitant step towards him. "I need it back."

Ghost's mind raced as he tried to make sense of everything. He had always been a practical man, relying on logic and reason rather than tales and legends. But here in front of him stood a woman who seemed to defy all rational explanation. But the urgency in your voice, accompanied by your constant watch over the disappearing seals, is what made it click firmly into place in his mind.

Distantly, he recalled the belief that keeping a Selkie's pelt would bind them to the owner. His grip tightened around the warm, velvety fur in his hands. Sand fell from its surface effortlessly, the thin layer of fur slightly damp and slick. Despite being buried in the cold sand, it remained warm to the touch.

His initial curiosity and scepticism had transformed into a deep, burning fascination as he watched you squirm before him. You were ethereal, smooth swathes of bare skin glistening with drops of water that shone like the faces of a crystal, backlit by the glow of the moon over the ocean. He wondered if your skin would be as soft, as warm, as the pelt clutched between his brutish, calloused hands. He found himself imagining your touch, what it would be like to have you draped around him, to feel the softness of your skin against his, the soft caress of your hands over his body, touching him, teasing him, loving him.

And yet you still stood before him, pleading for the return of your pelt. But Ghost couldn't bring himself to let you go that easily. The thought of possessing you sent shivers down his spine, igniting a burning fire inside him that refused to be tamed. He could feel himself losing control as he watched you tremble before him, torn between staying with your pod or escaping with your precious pelt. He knew if he gave it back to you, you would flee. You’d rush off without a backward glance, vanishing like a wisp of fog in the morning sun, never to be seen again.

He couldn't let you go. He was captivated, already imagining what it would be like to possess you completely, undoubtedly high off the promise of complete power over somebody, to own them, to control them, bound to his side for as long as he held your prized coat.

“No,” he found himself saying, his voice a low rumble, slowly standing up. He carefully tucked your pelt into his bag, watching the colour drain from your face as you trembled in the cool night air. “I don’t think I will,” Ghost murmured, his presence looming over you like a gathering storm. He reached out, his grip gentle yet unyielding on your arm as you instinctively flinched and stepped back. “It’s quite soft, innit? Real nice. You mustn’t treasure it much if you left it out in the open like you did.”

You tried to pull away from his hold, desperation flashing in your eyes as you glanced at the ocean's promise of safety and freedom. But without your pelt, you were helpless, shore-bound.

You stumbled back, heart racing like a caged bird. Turning to call for help from your pod, you saw only the distant specks of their forms against the horizon. A leaden weight settled in your chest, and your resistance waned. You tried to run, but Ghost's grip on your arm was unyielding. He reached for you with his other hand, his touch meant to soothe but only further incited fear inside you.

His tugging was insistent, inescapable, shushing your noisy protests as he removed his coat and draped you in it. Ghost felt a smug satisfaction curl through him at the sight of you, drowning in the black cloth, a stark contrast to your ethereal beauty. Your feeble attempts to escape were in vain, your pleas swallowed by the night's indifferent silence.

With a heavy heart, you finally resigned yourself to your fate as a captive, knowing that your pod would never return for you, not after being spotted. With each step towards the unknown, the weight on your shoulders grew heavier, knowing that you would never be truly free again, not unless this monster of a man deemed it so.

[holly-fixation]

Sane Safer Sephiroth AU: Real Mother

Ask and you shall recieve @yingxtkm . Part 1

"Your real mother is still alive."

Sephiroth slowly closed his eyes, suppressing the bubble of hope in his chest. Suppressing it to the truth. He made no effort to move. He couldn't help the small wince on his face.

"...I deserve that."

Cloud turned to Nanaki. "I told you this was a waste of time."

"Wait, Sephiroth, what do you mean?" The protector questioned.

Tired reptilian eyes met them both. Another silent pause in thought.

"...It doesn't require explanation." His gaze hit the illuminated wall, glowing from both the light of noon and the radiance of his halo. "Though I'm surprised to see your team using such tactics."

Cloud glared. "Stop avoiding the question."

Sephiroth sighed, his massive black wing curling and slumping. He closed his eyes. "Have you forgotten I killed your mother, Cloud?"

Cloud's fist clenched. "Stop. Deflecting. Now."

Nanaki stopped Cloud from stepping forward.

"Its only natural to cause emotional pain when physical pain is impossible."

The two locked eyes again and it finally clicked.

"Sephiroth, we're not lying to you."

"This is useless. I made all your desires your despair in order to control you and I regret every moment. This is the one and only topic I ask you to let be."

Cloud fought the instinct to scream and fight, to dig his heels in like a child and attack this new weak point. "Sephiroth, your mother is alive!"

"Cease this, Cloud. I do not wish to run or to harm. Do not push me to break this silent agreement." The silent agreement being their unspoken promise not to kill Sephiroth until they figured out how to keep him from coming back, and Sephiroth promising not to attack the team or flee from their judgment.

"Her name is Lucrecia Crescent, she was a scientist working under Hojo in the Jenova Project, and she- like you- can't die easy-"

"My mother is dead." Came his cold response.

"She gave birth to you in Nibelhiem and Hojo never even let her hold you!"

"My mother is dead."

"Her biggest regret is not being able to save you!"

"My Mother Is Dead, Cloud." Sephiroth swore his voice echoed throughout the canyon itself.

"This isn't some pathetic attempt at revenge!"

"We know where she is!" Nanaki interjected.

Sephiroth's hands tightened, the claw cutting straight into his flesh. He didn't answer.

They turned to each other again.

Nanaki shook his head lowly. "Vincent's going to kill us."

Cloud held his hands over his face. "Yeah. I'm well aware. Run back. Get Cid. Tell him we're leaving at midnight."

Nanaki nodded and ran out.

Cloud purposefully separated his sword and sheathed them individually. Then he approached. "Don't try anything funny."

"...Don't do this, Cloud..."

"You don't get to tell me what to do." The blond yanked him up to his wings, the unconscious pattern for flight beginning immediately without resistance.

"I deserve this fate. I deserve this punishment."

"Are you sure you're not Vincent's kid?" Cloud began dragging the godlike form out of the cave.

"I have no right to ask anything of you. I am at your mercy. Have mercy. Don't do this..." The ethereal weight of his voice didn't vanish despite the softness he desperately tried to convey.

"Shut up. We're going to the airstrip."

Sephiroth did not speak as Cloud escorted him, his halo beaming in reluctance and his wings curled and mechanical. They waited in a much closer cave for the sun to go down. Not when it mattered with a give away almost visible from the other side of the canyon.

The pilot wasn't happy when arriving at the clear rendezvous point.

"Oh hell no! Do y'all think I'm crazy!? I ain't gotta death wish!"

"Cid, if he wanted to burn me to death, he would've done it by now. Though he might blind you with that halo, so don't look directly at it."

"God damn it, Cloud... the hell you gettin' us into this time? And why'd you have me hide this trip from Vincent specifically?"

"We need to go to the biggest waterfall in the center of the continent."

"Visitin' the missus again? Thought she didn't wanna be bothered."

"She'll want this."

Cid started a new cigarette with a sigh. "Alright. All aboard. But you better keep flyin'. I ain't wastin' fuel on you."

Sephiroth kept his head down and nodded.

The flight itself was relatively short, yet it ended as the captain let out a loud "GOD DAMN IT!"

Apparently, the airship couldn't land wherever Cloud was taking Sephiroth.

Cloud sighed loudly. "Okay. Let's head to Costa del Sol and get on the submarine."

"Hold on." Sephiroth didn't give Cloud or Nanaki a moment to react before grabbing them both and dashing out of and off of the ship.

Cloud immediately stabbed his arm, this time the blade going through his chest due to their active contact.

Sephiroth fought the instinct of tending to the wound and drop them both, landing both true heroes softly in front of the waterfall.

He removed all of Cloud's blades from his body and returned them to their owner. Then he looked around as his body healed before their very eyes, at the waterfall and the lake it created.

"What the hell was that!?"

"I do not wish to delay this charade any longer."

"It's not-!" Red tried to explain.

"Just go under the waterfall. And no more sudden movements or I'm getting Knights of the Round!"

Sephiroth nodded again and led the way, barely fitting inside the entrance to the crystal cavern.

Inside, he met the barrel of a gun.

"Get out." Vincent growled like a cornered animal.

Sephiroth did not move or provide explanation.

"Vincent, wait!"

"She doesn't deserve this."

"If he's serious about this redemption, she deserves to see him."

"Let her atone for her sins."

"If they both can't die, at least let them meet each other."

"Leave. Now."

Sephiroth scanned the room as Cloud and Vincent debated. He didn't realize he moved or how fast he moved when he saw a figure in a crystal with brown hair wrapped with gold ribbon.

Vincent fired, the bullet sinking into the black wing, but Sephiroth did not turn.

His hand hovered above her face.

This crystal was too much like Her specimen tube. He lowered his hand. He held that exact face under his arm before entering the Lifestream the first time.

"I never imagined you to be so cruel, Cloud..."

"This isn't a trick!"

"What is he talking about?"

"Vincent, he doesn't believe that's really his mother."

Nanaki shouted over the argument and drawn weapons with the voice of a child. "Those you hate, those you fear, those you love! You said that yourself, right? This is who Jenova copied! This is who you loved!"

It couldn't be real.

His palm touched the crystal, vaguely feeling a semblance of her warmth.

Are you sure you've never seen her? The question he used to ask everyone flooded his mind.

"...Mother...?" Barely a whisper of a call left his mouth, the weakest and most pathetic sound he could muster in this godly form.

Yet the crystal remained, trapping the woman he so desperately needed to meet.

Even if there was still a chance this was retribution for his deeds and the woman before him wasn't real at all.

He slammed on the crystal, a crack forming immediately.

He heard the sound of transformations behind him. He felt the being try to tear him away as he kept banging and cracking the containment.

Each attack of his allowed attacks to land.

The crystal shattered. The woman slowly opened her eyes.

Her pained, sad eyes, blue orbs holding the same sorrow as his locket.

Then they widened.

"Mother...?" He spoke with the same delicacy, like any louder would shatter the woman to the shards she stood on.

"Sephiroth...? Is that really you...?"

He should be asking the same thing, but he tongue was caught on the repetition of the word Mother. He forced a different answer out slowly.

"You're alive...?"

"I can't call this living... I am so sorry. I never should've agreed to that experiment. I couldn't do anything to save you. I couldn't hold you. I couldn't help you. I brought you into this world, and I couldn't do a thing... And now you're this... you can't die either..."

But none of it mattered as his hands slowly wrapped around her before finally making contact at the end of her regrets, pulling her softly against his half inhuman chest.

"You're alive..." Mako tears stained her white dress.

"I'm a failure... Who would want this for a mother?"

"Who would want this for a son...?" He heard blades sheath as her arms wrapped around him.

"I'm sorry I made you this..."

He shook his head of silver hair. "You didn't do this. Don't blame yourself for this."

More pity. More tears. More grief and regret before they finally left the cave.

Her guilt, even now, stopped her from going with them. She promised only a few more years and she'd join him. But the pain was still too much.

However, Lucrecia gave Vincent very specific directions to locate her favorite recipe for pumpkin soup in Shinra Manor.

The team rotated with weekly shifts to check on Sephiroth in Cosmo Canyon, assuming he would quickly lose his mind without his real mother.

None realized he felt... content.

He learned of his mother's favorite flowers and favorite foods. He learned what she did to relax and entertain. He learned about her.

He spent the years in between protecting without concern and trying all of his mother's favorite things.

No. This solitude and awkward truce was the happiest time of his life.

And he did, in fact, love her pumpkin soup.

[marshmallowprotection]

I wanna give Ray a nice hand massage his palms and fingers and wrists are not doing so well with the hacking he needs it!!!

"Tell me if it hurts."

As you continued to smooth out circles into Ray's trembling palm, you weren't surprised by his occasional wince. He really didn't want to worry you, but that was why he had stumbled into this mess to start with! He bit his tongue when he needed to rest and pushed himself to do more and more when he needed a break more than anything else.

You had no idea he was pushing his hands above and beyond his limit, and for that part, it was no wonder why he struggled to type even though he yanked his gloves on tighter and tighter to keep his fingers rigid. He never let his hands relax. They were always tense... and they would remain that way as long as he continued to work as hard as he was.

Sure, you understood that he couldn't slow him even if he wanted to because of his Savior's orders, but there had to be a limit somewhere. It wasn't effective to work him into the ground until he couldn't do the next task! He was the only one who could handle his job, and if such a day ever came when he couldn't use his fingers anymore, this cursed place would come to a shrieking halt.

Which, frankly, wouldn't have been a bad thing because this wasn't by no means a paradise for anyone! But, with the Savior at the helm, Ray and everyone around him were nothing more than puppets who had to act until their ropes snapped.

You applied more pressure to his palm and carefully lifted your head to watch for his reaction. He didn't yank his digits away, but you knew from the way his eyes trembled that this was difficult for him. There'd been no warning, no explanation, and no guide to tell him how to use his hands without overextending them. He didn't even know he could stretch and massage his hands to help the pain!

"Ray," you tried again. "Does it hurt?"

"N-No," he muttered, wiggling his fingers to test their range of motion as you continued to massage the small space between his palm and thumb. "It aches... but not in a bad way. It feels no different than the pain I get when I spend all day walking and then sit down... I can feel it. I can feel my pulse."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No. It feels better because now I know my pulse bends to your gentle hands. If I knew my disgusting hands wouldn't scare you... I might've asked for this sooner."

"Oh, Ray," you cupped his cheek with your free hand and smiled as gently as you could manage. "Your hands are not disgusting. I don't mind holding them because they make me happy. I hope I can ease your pain soon."

"Being with you soothes my pain."

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

Whumpril Day 25: Too Weak to Stand

When Leo felt the initial sting, he assumed it was the weeds and brambles lashing at his legs as he and Mikey fled to the trees. At the time he was too busy shoving his brother toward cover ahead of him to consider any alternative explanations; the exotic animal hunters were still on their heels.

After several minutes spent weaving false trails, Mikey hunkered down in the bushes to take a breather, surprised when Leo trudged over to drop heavily beside him. “Getting comfy? Maybe we can stake out here, use all these leafy greens as camouflage until they go away.”

“No, we need to keep moving. They probably expect us to stay grounded so instead we’ll, ah…scale the thicker areas of the canopy…fifty yards at a time.” Leo wished he sounded more decisive. Now that he was already sitting, a large part of him did want to just melt into the underbrush and hope it was over.

“Turtle Tarzans. They won’t see that coming,” Mikey agreed ruefully, hopping to his feet with an ease that had Leo hurrying to follow suit.

His legs skidded back out from under him without warning, scattering leaves and his orientation of the world simultaneously. If his vision weren’t pinwheeling, he would have seen Mikey cringe at his ungainly thud.

“Shh!”

“Sorry…I don’t know what’s…uh…” He trailed off, his train of thought slowing to a crawl. His joints had seemingly turned to jelly, nerves abuzz like they had fallen asleep.

Come to think of it, sleep sounded…very appealing right about now.

“Leo? Hey, are you good? Leo. Leo, why’re you zoning out on me?”

When Leo was shaken, he hardly felt it. By the time Mikey tensed, cursed frantically and yanked the tranquilizer dart free of his calf, he was already out.

[faerieroyal]

𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐘’𝐒 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄’𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐒 !

— ❥ 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 + 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞

( warnings: some swearing, mentions of violence )

the first thing will offers to do for you after you’ve started dating is a simple one. the two of you are just hanging out in your living room sofa, his head on your lap and your fingers stroking through his hair, while a made-for-tv movie that neither of you are really paying any attention to plays on the screen in front of you. you haven’t been following the plot of it at all for the last fifteen minutes, instead focused on the silky feeling of the blond strands brushing over your fingertips, and it’s fairly clear that will isn’t either; his eyes are closed most of the way, his face completely relaxed in a way that you haven’t really seen it since the two of you had met, and he looks like he’s about five seconds away from falling asleep as long as you keep up what you’re doing.

eventually, the tv switches from the movie to a commercial, replacing the image of a conventionally pretty woman smiling with tears in her eyes (you’re pretty sure she and her love interest have just confessed their feelings for each other, but you couldn’t say for sure) with the latest model of some kind of all-terrain vehicle driving up a hill to the sound of heavy country music and a scratchy-voiced narrator. the sight of the vehicles brings a memory rushing back into your mind, and, forgetting that you’ve been focused on being quiet and letting will get some rest, you blurt out, “ah, shit, i forgot to fill up my car.”

“hmmm?” will mumbles in response, stirring slightly in your lap. you curse yourself for pulling him out of that nice space between sleeping and waking he seemed to be in, but you also know that if you don’t respond, he’ll keep asking and wake himself up even more. will hates not having clarification, hates when people don’t repeat themselves when someone else hasn’t heard what they’ve said; you imagine it’s because he spent so long in the military, having everything he was supposed to do explained to him clearly, directly, and very loudly.

“i was just saying, i forgot to fill up my car,” you explain, resuming your stroking of his hair in an attempt to lull him back into that sleepy space. “i meant to when i was coming home from the grocery store earlier, but there was a lot of traffic and i got kind of stressed out from that and forgot. i’ll have to leave for work a little earlier tomorrow so i can fill up on the way.”

you imagine that explanation should do it, that will will give a little nod or hum in understanding and relax under your hand again, but he doesn’t. instead, he abruptly heaves himself up from your lap until he’s sitting up beside you, rubbing his eyes, and mumbling, “i’ll go fill it up for you.”

“what?” you ask, your brain being slow to catch up to this sudden change of events. by the time you fully comprehend what’s going on, will has already stood up from the sofa and is grabbing the hoodie he’d shucked off when he’d lain down on you, and you stand up yourself, reaching out for him. “will, no, wait, you don’t have to do that. i’ll just do it tomorrow, it’s fine.”

“yeah, but you hate having to get up so early for work anyway,” he responds, voice muffled as he yanks the hoodie over his head. “it’ll suck if you have to get up even earlier just for this. and i don’t mind saving you the trouble.” you see his face again as it pops out of the neck of the hoodie, his hair messy and eyes still somewhat clouded from being half asleep. “where are your keys?”

“in the bowl right by the door,” you say without thinking, then promptly shake your head. “you really don’t have to do this, i can just-”

“i know i don’t have to,” will cuts you off, looking at you seriously. “but i want to. do you want me to get anything else while i’m gone, like a snack for you or somethin’?”

you just look at him for a minute - a bit confused at the tunr this afternoon has taken, but also marvelling, just a bit, at how you’ve managed to land a guy like this: a guy who will give up a few more hours of lazy cuddling and head pets just to go fill up your car for you. you’re not quite sure what deity or higher power you have to thank for planting will miller into your life, but whoever they are, you think, they definitely do have your thanks.

finally, you shake your head, smiling faintly. “no, thanks, i’m good. but thank you for this, will, seriously.”

he kisses the side of your head, assures you that there’s no need thank him, and despite what you said, returns half an hour later with a small bag of your favorite chips, your gas tank filled, reassurances that you don’t have to pay him back for it, and a smile on his face.

and it doesn’t stop there. after that first time, will starts offering to do a million little things for you without you even thinking of asking you to do them. one of your doors keeps squeaking whenever you open it; he fishes some oil out of your garage and has it opening and closing soundlessly in ten minutes. you groan about having forgotten something when you were grocery shopping; he either goes to get it right then or brings some with him the next time he comes over. you get a little bit nervous about ordering when the two of you go out to a restaurant; he makes sure of what you want and tells the waiter without a hint of judging you for being nervous or anything.

it’s so amazingly, incredibly sweet, all of it. the fact that he barely even seems to think about doing any of these things for you, the fact that he won’t accept any direct repayment for doing them and, in fact, goes a little pink in the ears when you verbally thank him for it and say how sweet it is. and it’s not just you, either; you’ve seen him do similar things for his friends and his brother, fixing up a cracked beam on frankie’s porch when he’s been too overwhelmed with rehab and taking care of his daughter or bailing benny out whenever he gets arrested for getting into a bar fight.

“i know you don’t like it when i say stuff like this,” you tell him one day, as you’re sitting at your kitchen island enjoying the view while he fixes a leaky pipe under your sink in nothing but a white wife beater and sweatpants. “but i really have to thank you.”

“‘s no problem,” he replies, removing his head from under the sink and leaning back on his hands where he sits on your tile floor. “i mean, you can’t keep washing dishes with a leaking pipe, and most plumbers’ll charge you way too much for a fix this easy. ‘m happy to do it for you.”

“i don’t just mean this,” you say, gesturing at the open sink cabinet and the tools in your boyfriend’s hands. “i mean… for everything. everything you do for me and for everyone else, without us even having to ask for it. without ever expecting anything in return. it means a lot, will, it really does.”

predictably, his face flushes just a bit at your words, and he reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. it’s ridiculously endearing, you think, seeing this man who’s braved some of the worst horrors known to man turn so shy just from a little gratitude. just another reason you are definitely planning on keeping this guy around for as long as you can.

“well,” he begins, still looking bashful and now staring resolutely at his feet. “i mean, i know i’m not the best with words ‘n all that. me and benny, we just weren’t really raised that way. i mean, he knows i love him ‘n all, i know he loves me, but neither of us are ever uncomfortable just comin’ out and saying it. to each other or anybody else, really. so i guess…” he pauses, lets out a gusty breath before continuing. “doin’ shit like this, fixing up broken stuff and getting groceries ‘n everything, is just sort of my way of saying it. making people’s lives a little bit easier where i can is my way of saying it. that make sense?”

he looks up at you then, and you’re surprised by the nervousness in his eyes - the fact that he thinks this, being more comfortable with acts of service than words, is something you would ever judge him for. it makes you think of what other people he’s dated might have said to him about this kind of thing, which then makes you kind of want to wrap him up in a hug and never let him go.

you know he probably wouldn’t react well to that, though - as much as this man loves affection, he doesn’t know how to react to it a lot of the time - so you settle for smiling softly at him from your seat at the island, hoping that this along with the look in your eyes conveys exactly how much you would never judge him.

“it makes perfect sense,” you assure him, voice soft and impossibly fond. “and for the record - if this is how you show your love, then i think it’s a pretty good way of doing it.”

a fond, bashful smile creeping onto his face, will lets out a soft chuckle. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

and that’s that. the two of you smile at each other for another silent, sweet moment, and then he goes back to fixing your sink pipe, and you go back to watching him. watching him say, with every twist of his wrench now and every little helpful action in the past and every one to come, i love you, i love you, i love you.

triple frontier taglist: @hiya-itsamber, @fairyofthehollow !

general taglist: @maddipoof, @thatmagickjuju, @talkingturnedtoscreamss, @malafvma, @auxiliarydetective, @heliads, @oneirataxia-girl !

( send me an ask if you want to be added to a taglist !! )

[lulublack90]

Prompt 16 - Embarrass

@jegulus-microfic April 16, Word count 854

Previous part First part

James actually ran as soon as he got out of Regulus and Sirius’s suite. He was so stupid throwing himself at a stranger without even asking if they were single. He thought Regulus would have told him, but clearly not. Then again, he thought, he did tell me to go away repeatedly, and I wouldn’t go. Barty was right to be angry at me. 

His feet had led him back to his own room. Clumsily, he scanned the door card and let himself in. Maybe he’d go out onto the slopes and have a ski. He hadn’t done that for a few days. Not since he ran into Regulus. He could hardly embarrass himself more than he’d already done today.

He had just hauled himself off the bed and started to look for his skiing clothes when the room phone rang. He picked it up in case it was his parents, but they had his mobile number, so it would be odd if it were them. 

“Hello?” He said into the receiver. 

“James? James, is that you? Please don’t hang up. Can you come back, and I’ll explain.” Regulus’s panicked voice buzzed down the phone line. James sunk onto his bed. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Reg. My intentions aren’t exactly platonic, and you have a boyfriend—”

“I DO NOT HAVE A BOYFRIEND!!!” Regulus shouted, clearly aggravated. “Sorry. Barty is not my boyfriend. I broke up with him, and he refuses to accept it. But I swear, James, I would have told you if he were. Please come back.” James ran his hand through his hair as he debated. “Please, James.”

“Ugh,” He grunted. “Okay, fine. Is Sirius there to let me back in?” He’d already stood up and walked towards the door but was suddenly yanked backwards by the corded phone. “Ouch!” He cried as he landed heavily on his arse. 

“You just tried to walk away with the hotel’s phone, didn’t you?” Regulus said, trying to hold back a snicker. 

“Shut up, or I’m not coming.” He hung the phone up and, rubbing his rump, left his room. 

It wasn’t until he was approaching Regulus’s room that he realised he’d never gotten an answer if Sirius was there to let him in. He really didn’t want Regulus to have to hop all the way through to open the door.

As luck would have it, Dr Lupin had just raised his hand to knock on the door. “Dr Lupin,” James called out, waving at the man and jogging the last few steps to get to him. “You here to check on Regulus’s ankle?” He asked with a big smile breaking across his face. 

“Oh, er—I mean—Yes, yes. That’s right. Regulus’s ankle—Yep—Exactly.” The young doctor seemed flustered, with a pink flush creeping over his face. He was saved from further explanation when the door suddenly opened. 

“Remus!” Sirius beamed at him. His face dropped when he saw James standing next to him. 

“Hello, Mr Black. I’m here to check on Regulus’s ankle.” Remus stared straight at Sirius. 

“Huh? Oh—Yeah, brilliant. Thank you, Dr Lupin.” Sirius moved aside and let him in. James flicked his head between the two men but couldn’t figure out what he was missing. He shrugged his shoulders and followed them in. 

They crowded into Regulus’s room, much to Regulus’s surprise. 

“Hello, Regulus. How are you today? I’ve come to check your ankle.” Remus got Regulus to stand and move a few steps as he observed and nodded at his progress. “Excellent. It’s healing well. You can probably do some light exercise with it now. Walk around the suite at least today and try a bit further tomorrow. You should be almost back to normal by the time you go home, though I’m afraid I can’t recommend any more skiing while you’re here.” Remus told him in his doctor’s voice. 

“Thank you, Dr Lupin,” Regulus said as he lowered himself back onto the bed. 

“You’re welcome,” Remus said, straightening his jumper. “I’ve taken enough of your time. If you want a final check before you leave, let me know.” He turned towards the door.

“I’ll see you out,” Sirius told him, following him through the door.

“Hi,” Regulus murmured once they were alone. 

“Hi,” James sighed and sunk onto the end of the bed. 

“I’m sorry if he said anything to upset you. I’ve blocked his number now. Hopefully, he’ll get the message.” They sat there in awkward silence. 

Regulus shuffled himself up the bed so he was propped up by his pillows. “Can we just forget that moron spoke to you and just go back to how we were this morning?” He asked hopefully. “I found a film I think you might like. It’s all romantic, and there’s sword fighting and pirates and Rodents of unusual size.” He smiled shyly at James as he flicked the TV on. 

With very little encouragement, James flopped backwards next to Regulus. 

Regulus immediately snuggled into his side and nudged James’s arm until he wrapped it around him. Regulus sighed contentedly as he put the film on.    

Next part

[blackcatnip]

The prison is my head and the realm is my soul

Gojo angst post Prison Realm

He came back different.

That’s the first thing everyone talked about when Satoru would be mentioned. He isn’t the same. ‘I heard him talking to the wall’ ‘He walked past me like I wasn’t even there.’ ‘Did he use his technique since he came back?’

But they didn’t know. They couldn’t sense how his mind was going wildfire. Too much information, just too much. He never thought he would crave for the nothingness of the prison realm, but he did, and that terrified him.

Because how could he crave for something so intangible? They said he was there for a month, it felt like years, or minutes, or days, he couldn’t tell.

“You are the talk of the town.” Suguru says amused as they pass another group of sorcerers whispering about him.

“And you aren’t helping.”

He walks past him. He needed to see Shoko, but what would he say? She probably already thought he was weak.

His technique felt off, too much time without use. His limbs were slower, he forgot how to use them after the years days months? spent immobile. He wasn't himself, he came back different.

“Are you even listening?” Shoko tried to reach his shoulder and he yanked back startled.

“What? Yeah, I killed the curse.”

“I was asking if you were sleeping.”

He looked at her, no he wasn’t, but it didn't matter, he didn't sleep there too, nothing new.

“Just have a lot to do.”

She sighs and looks at him with saddened eyes. “It’s like you are stuck in your head all the time. You got out, Gojo, it’s time for you to start living again.”

He wished it was that simple.

Days blurred into weeks, and weeks into months. Shoko tried to reach for him. He always backed away. Until one day, when he fucked up big time in a mission, she shoved him in her office and demanded an explanation.

“You are gonna end up dead! Getting distracted fighting a special grade! Why did you drop Infinity?!” She shakes her arms desperately. “Please, talk to me, I can’t lose you too”

And it was the crack in her voice that made his defenses crumble.

“I keep seeing him.” Instantly he feels shame crawling into his body.

“What do you mean?” She says, brows furrowing.

“Of course you are seeing me, I am right here.” Suguru deadpans from where he is sitting on the desk, bouncing his feets.

Satoru looks up, lips trembling, there was a time he would do anything to be able to see him again, but not like this.

“You are not real.” And that cuts deeper than anything he could have ever said. He craved the prison realm because there he could pretend, he could surrender to his crazy head trying to bring him comfort, and just accept as a truth that Suguru was alive in front of him.

But he got out, and he has shit to do, and hallucinating about Suguru will not help him achieve those things.

Seconds pass and Shoko is as still as a stone analyzing him with careful eyes. He catches the moment that Suguru’s face falls. Dropping the façade.

“I was here to help.” Suguru looks defeated, and Satoru wants nothing more than to go to him and hug him until all their sorrows disappear.

“I know.” He looks down and pulls his hair, already feeling the tears falling. “But I am fine now, you should go.”

“It’s not me who decides that, you have to let me go.”

“I know.”

And they just stay there, none of them moving. Because even though Satoru got out, the prison realm stayed within. And he isn’t ready yet to be alone again.

[honestlynervousnut]

Firts time writing! (Bucktommy)

TW: Childhood trauma

Buck and Tommy were having dinner,it was a normal thing for them since months ago.It was a very pleasent dinner,they were talking,laughing,enjoying their wine and overall having a great time...or at least they were until Buck noticed something.

Tommy was quiet,looking down at his plate with a hint of what looked like disgust to Buck as he ate.It looked as if he was having trouble eating and had to drink a lot of wine in order to be able to eat it....

Buck's eyebrows furrowed as he lean closer and decided to ask him.

''Tommy...'' said Buck softly ''Are you okey?''

Tommy's eyes widen like a deer in headlights as he looked at Buck.

''Wh....yeah yeah I am....why?'' Said Tommy with a nervious chuckle.

''Well...it looks like you don't like your food'' Buck looked down at Tommy's plate and he noticed how Tommy moved his fork reluctantly around the plate without even touching the food. He had prepared that food and he couldn't help but wonder if he had added something that Tommy didn't liked. ''Is there something wrong with it?''

Tommy chuckled nerviously.''What....no....no no no no....not at all....it great..'' He said as he continued to eat.

Evan didn't believed him....he knew him damm well to know that it wasn't true,so he asked again.

''Are you sure?''

''Yeah...'' Said Tommy without looking at him ''Im just...you know a bit full but its okey''

Evan was confused....VERY confused.

''Alright well then stop eating if you don't want more,its not a crime to leave food on the plate y'know?''

Tommy let out a bitter chuckle

''I can't'' He shook his head with a smile as he continued to eat.

''What?'' Asked Evan confused. ''Of course you can...''

Tommy shook his head even more. ''No,you never leave anything on the plate,its a basic rule'' He muttered without looking at Buck.

Buck's eyebrows furrowed.

''Basic rule where?'' He asked trying to understand his boyfriend.

''House rule....'' Tommy muttered softly with a more serious face as he continued to eat.

As Tommy continued eating, Buck could notice the slight tremor in his hand every time he brought the fork closer to his mouth. This worried Buck.

''Tommy,stop eating'' He said firmly with a hint of worry on his eyes.

Tommy shook his head.

''Tommy...'' Buck repeaded.

''Evan....'' said Tommy almost pleading ''knock it off,I said im fine'' He said with a small smile.

Again,Buck didn't believed that....He tried to take the plate away from him but Tommy yank it away from his hand and keep it to himself as if his life depended on it.

Buck looked at him wide eyed.

''Tommy'' he said completly confused. ''What are you-?'' Buck tried to speak but suddently got interrupted by Tommy's pleading tone.

''Evan,please...'' he muttered ''Just-I always take my time okey? There's nothing wrong with it'' He said with a reasuring smile.

''Tommy'' Said Buck almost demanding an explanation.

Tommy opened his mouth,it looked like he was about to speak,but before any sound could come out of him he quickly shut himself and looked down.

Buck coudn't stand seeing Tommy like this,it saddened him,so he leaned closer and slowly grabbed Tommy's chin to make him look at him.

''Tommy....'' he whispered with his eyes full of worry. ''Please...''

Tommy looked at him with glassy eyes for a few seconds,when he felt that his lip started to tremble he closed his eyes,let out a deep breath and then he started explaining.

''When I was a kid....'' he started explaying quietly. ''My....my dad would never let me get up from the table unless I finish the entire plate...''

Alright we're getting somewhere...thought Buck as he let go of Tommy's chin and sat back down on his chair to listen to his explanation.

''He always said that...I shouldn't waste food like that...'' Tommy sighed. ''A-and he always made me stay on that damm table until I finished my plate...I wasn't allowed to move under any circumstances'' He looked down. ''Or else he would ''whoop my ass'' with that fucking belt....'' he muttered.

Buck looked at him wide eyed,he couldn't believe what he was hearing and it broke his heart seeing him that sad.

Tommy let out a bitter breath of a laugh.

''There was this one time....w-when my mother had to come down to the dining room at 4am to get me to go to my room.....'' he tries to swallow the lump on his throat. ''Be....because my father forgot about me'' he whispered that last part as the lump on his throat made it imposible for him to speak louder and tears started coming down from his eyes.He looked down trying to hide them.

Buck quickly got up from his chair and when to confort him.

''Hey...'' he said with a soft tone as he pulled Tommy closer for a side hug. ''Hey....its okey...seriously'' He said as he planted a kiss on Tommy's forehead. ''That's on the past now...you don't have to worry anymore...'' he reasured him.

''Really?'' Tommy whispered with a trembling voice as he clung to Buck's arm.

''Yeah'' Said Buck with a soft smile. ''If you don't want to eat,no one can make you,and im not gonna make you stay here 'til 5am like, that's crazy''

Tommy chuckled and looked at him with a small almost grateful smile.

''Thank you...'' he whispered

Buck chuckled. ''you're welcome'' He cupped Tommy's face with both hands and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.As he did that he could almost hear the relieved ''mmh...'' that Tommy let out and he could also feel the tension leaving Tommy's body as he saw his shoulders relax.

As both man slowly looked back at each other with a small smile Buck had a thought.

''Hey...'' he said with a small smirk ''Do you still have room for dessert? I bought chocolate mousse''

Tommy chuckled. ''Have I told you that I love you already?''

Buck chuckled too.''I know...Il go get it'' he said as he walked to the fridge....

(And that was my firts Bucktommy ''fic'' please be kind and feel free to correct me for any grammar mistakes :D)

EDIT: Any title ideas?