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atarathegreat · 6 months

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Scary Wife Privilages Tokyo Revengers

Featuring: Kokonoi Hajime, Ken Ryuguji (Draken), Rindou Haitani, Atsushi Sendo (Akkun)

Synopsis: They don't need you to stand up for them, but damn do they love when you get feisty.

It was crazy to you the extent of disrespect that Kokonoi would put up with while you were around. Everyone was aware of how ruthless the man could be, but they were also aware of how he hid it when you were around, and they took advantage of it. You lost count of how many people stopped in with random complaints about whatever Koko had done the previous week.

You lost count, sure, but not your temper.

Another poor soul walked in, anger evident on his face. Kokonoi wasn't any less pissed than you were, but he didn't like to explode when you happened to be with him. Of course, you knew this. You'd seen him strangle a man for information. You rolled your eyes thinking about it: how could he strangle a man in front of you with zero hesitation but he didn't want to get angry?

"Don't." You glared at the fancy suit and tie as he sat in the chair opposite the desk where Koko sat. "Don't say a word if it's negative." your voice was dark, heavy, almost dangerous, "Give your report and leave."

The man stared up at you as you leaned on Kokonoi's chair, "If there are problems then the boss needs to know."

Koko would be lying if he said he wasn't impressed with the way you leaned over his desk, grabbing the man by his tie and jerking him forward. He knew you had a temper but this...this was different. This made him wish he was on the receiving end of your death glare. "Say it then." Your words sent a chill up Koko's spine, "Tell me your complaint."

And for the first time, Koko seen one of his men speechless. You were scaring the hell out of him, even more so than any gun.

"No, ma'am, it's okay..." His underling whimpered. Koko had never heard any of his men whimper. But there it was, the fear in his eyes and a very pathetic whine that came out as he spoke.

Inui and Kenny had been busting their asses all day. They'd fixed bike after bike, crushed their fingers, bruised their legs, and Kenny slammed his head into the shelf holding parts, effectively bringing the whole thing down. Inui had laughed, stating, "You're too damn tall for this little shop!"

You smiled, and your smile could've made the devil himself kneel in terror, "Then give your report and go."

As they were replacing a whole gas tank for an old rusted up bike, (Kenny knew it would be more use to the customer as scrap, but the man was adamant about getting the poor heap of metal fixed) someone started hitting the bell on the front desk like it was an emergency. Kenny looked up, sharing a look of exhaustion with Inui before they both stood and slowly made their way out.

"Finally!" The woman yelled and slammed her hands on the counter, "You fixed my sons bike and charged him extra! Who do you think you are?"

Inui, who was busy pulling the books for the week, responded before Kenny could, "I'm Inui Seishu, he's Ken Ryuguji."

Inui's sarcasm made the woman angrier, and Kenny, for the very first time, hated that his friends kneejerk reaction to people was dry sarcasm. She started yelling louder, getting on Ken's nerves as he stood and took it. What was he going to do? Him and Inui charged fairly on their work, and this was a woman, Kenny couldn't exactly brawl with her.

"Would you just give me your sons name so I can find what we fixed and how much we charged?" Inui asked dryly, glancing up from the computer.

"No! You're supposed to know this stuff already! Unless you're scamming everyone that comes into this store!" The woman was becoming red in the face, "Scammers! Overpriced mechanics."

A sweet gust of wind carried over Kenny, he didn't have time to groan about someone else coming in before you had analyzed the situation. You'd heard the woman yelling from outside, a plan of action already made and ready to be executed. Inui smiled at you, "Good evening, Y/n."

"Evening, Inui." Both men paused at the calm air in your voice, "What's the problem here?"

You were here, meaning Kenny could relax and let you handle this problem on legs. He smiled and waved at his daughter who was holding your hand tightly, she waved back and giggled when your hand absently rested in her hair. God, how did his day get twenty times better with just a simple little sound?

The woman quickly tried to usher you out of the shop, stopping when you gently shoved her hand away, "You better get your little girl out of here, these scammers-"

"Enough." Your tone was cold, "These men are charging just right for their expertise and parts they replace. Do you understand how much money it costs to order half the parts for a motorcycle?''

Inui piped up quickly, "I don't think she does, Miss Ryuguji. Enlighten her."

Now Kenny was regretting how funny it was that his friend loved instigating you.

"In the last month this shop has spent over 6734610 yen in bike parts, three pieces of which went to your sons bike three days ago. Inui," You looked over at him, "search the name Kyoka. Broken clutch, broken break and an old spark plug."

Everyone waited silently as Inui looked it up. Your daughter pulled her hand free and ran to her dad, whispering to him as he picked her up, "Mommy is real scary right now." Kenny nodded, "Mommy doesn't take this type of shit, does she, baby girl?" The young child giggled, "She said she was gonna have to beat ass when we came in."

Kenny covered his daughters mouth, "Hey, we talked about the swearing, didn't we?"

He didn't have time to get an answer from your daughter because you started yelling back at the older lady, "I don't care if your son used his whole damn paycheck to get his bike fixed. He's in his thirties and doesn't need his mommy to come and bitch about price for him. Go on! Yell some more, because I promise you, I am much louder."

She tucked tail and hurried from the shop, leaving you alone with the two mechanics, "You charged twenty yen over..."

Rindou, while he loved his brother very much, didn't like the man coming over. Ran had a bad habit of flirting with you and Rindou had caught his brother setting his hands on your thighs too many times. He wasn't worried about you falling for the ridiculous antics, you'd always removed Ran's hands promptly but respectfully, he just hated that his brother was encroaching on his wife. Ran could have any woman he wanted, why did he have to go after you?

Inui grinned, "Agree with us in public, huh?"

"Rin?" You called to him from across your shared bedroom, "I can see the way your eyebrows are moving. What are you thinking?"

He snapped out of his thoughts quickly, looking at the beautiful outfit you were wearing, the way your arms stretched as you struggled with the clasp of your necklace. "Nothing." Rindou muttered, stepping up behind you to grab the ends of the silver chain.

"Have I ever told you that you suck at lying to me?" Your eyes pierced his through the mirror of your vanity. He couldn't hide the small smirk, "You have."

Rindou appreciated the way you called him out so openly, most people were too afraid of him to, but you didn't fear anyone, not even Mikey, and Mikey had held a gun to your throat. "I...Is it bad that I don't want Ran to come over? I love him, but-"

"I think it's a normal reaction when a man keeps trying to seduce your wife." You were nothing if not brutally honest, "I can't say I'm thrilled to have him over, either."

And yet, despite neither of you being excited to see him, you both greeted Ran with smiles and hugs. You, of course, had to peel the older man from your body, chuckling as you stated, "Boundaries, Ran."

Ran knew the extent he could go, and he exploited it. Placing his hands on your lower back, just above your ass where you couldn't protest your boundaries, or grabbing your hand and tugging you away from Rindou at the worst moments. It was getting on Rindou's nerves the more the night went on, to the point that Rin was hanging onto your back and refusing to let you do anything without him. He was acting like a koala, and as much as you loved him, it was getting aggravating having two grown men following you around.

"Enough!" You snapped, scaring the brothers, "Sit down!"

They did, Ran smiling as you finally lost your temper with them. Rindou glared at his brother, kicking him under the table, "This is your fault..."

"Quiet." You sounded like a mother scolding her children, "We're going to set some new rules, okay? Good."

Rindou knew that none of the rules were meant for him, but the tone in your voice was, at the very least, worrying to him. He knew you could strangle Ran, not with pure strength but because Ran would let you, and he didn't want you to get any more pissed.

It might as well have been a brothel. The second you walked in you were slammed with the smell of perfume and expensive fabrics. You'd learned to take headache relief before showing up, and it helped for the most part. The women, Hostess's as your husband called them, were lined up all day. Mostly they stood and watched men walk in and pick another woman to have their fun with before they walked out, half drunk and with their pants undone while the woman spent the next hour getting fixed up.

"And for the love of god, Ran, stop flirting with me! I don't like you!" You huffed, crossing your arms, "I have zero attraction to you, give up. Because if you don't, and I say this heavily, Ran, I will bring out every ounce of Haitani that I have picked up in the last three years and I will sink you to the bottom of the ocean."

The man who greeted you as you walked in was quick to remove a dark velvet rope, letting you go up the steps to where you knew Atsushi was sitting. But you were greeted with a sight that made you cackle.

Atsushi was sitting in his usual spot on one of the overpriced couches, legs spread wide and his arms resting over the back. He laid his head back to see you, smiling as you walked closer. You stared down at the woman who was crouched between his knees, "I can hear you begging from the doorway. It's pathetic."

Her poorly manicured nails slowly pulled off his knees, her wrongly glossed lips parting as she spoke, "Wh-who are you?"

You moved Atsuhsi's hand to show off his ring, "Take a guess. Tell me-Oh, no, don't get up!" You stopped her from moving from her position, "Tell me, how does it feel to beg for a married man?"

She was silent, staring up at you. You were like the boogey man for the girls who worked, as each one had tried to make themselves Atsushi's favorite.

"Good to see you, babe." Atsushi reached up and held your face, "Come just to see me?"

"Mhm, that was the initial goal." You walked around and sat beside him, grabbing the woman's hands and placing them on Atsushi's thighs, "Now, I want to see something."

The woman looked even more scared as you moved her around, "Did you think you would get away with this, sweetheart? I know these girls share stories of me, so there's no way you didn't hear about me."

"I swear, I didn't know the boss was married...I hadn't heard anything..." She was wide eyed, shaking a little. You laughed, "Come now, Atsu, are your girls hazing each other?"

He shrugged, "You know I don't pay that much attention."

You stood quickly, dragging the woman backwards and bending her painfully over the small table behind her. She gasped, eyes going wider if that was even possible. Atsushi had seen you do this before.

Both your faces were only inches apart, your wide smile would haunt her for days, "Does this hurt you? Can you take more?" She shook her head, muttering out a quiet "no" that made you giggle, "Then know that you can't handle what my husband could do to you. Even if you were just sucking cock, he's too brutal for you to stand. So, please, attempt this again. Do it, sweetheart, on the very, very slim chance he cheats on me, I'll know you won't be walking for a few days while I file divorce."

The doubled threat wasn't lost on Atsushi, who quickly moved to drag you into his lap, "Babe, c'mon, this place needs ladies who work." He sounded calm, but you could see the emotion hidden in his movements. Atsushi didn't want you to even mention divorce ever again, let alone after you threatened his employee.

The woman ran away fast when you waved her off, "Atsu, honey, my love. Don't let me find this again. I might just kill the next bitch."

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beneatheaven · 7 months

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video call sex with soobin

lowercase intended, 1,764 words, haven’t proof read

smut under cut, minors do not interact

sitting down at your desk with all your project work out, ready to go over it with your partner, soobin. you both decided to do some over the call working sessions together along because of his busy schedule. this being the first one. it kinda pissed you off, with all the free time on your side, it felt like you could finish this sooner on your own. but it's whatever, he's really smart so maybe he can carry for the both of you guys.

you receive a text saying he's ready and on is on discord. opening up the app on your laptop, and joining the call. noticing he had his camera on. you could see his room in the background. his bed nicely made and there's a pretty shelf with all his little figures. it's kinda cute, coming from him.

"hey, are you ready? oh why isn't your camera on?". his voice brings you back. "i didn't know that was apart of the agreement. why's yours on?" you say harshly. "well just so that we can see if either of us get distracted, keep each other on track.". hmm maybe he has a point..

you don't really want to turn your camera on, you're in your loose tank top and shorts, ready to sleep sometime after this. now noticing what he's wearing, he's just in a white tee and probably some grey sweats huh..."okay i'll turn it on."

after 40 minutes of going over the subject and how to equally separate the work load, you're focused on getting all the information you can for today. you had half of your screen soobin's camera screen and the other half your school work, so did he. this also being his idea, making sure that you guys could keep an eye on each other.

this wasn't so bad, soobin made a nice study playlist for guys to listen to at the same time. thinking it would've kept you distracted, but it kept you very concentrated. possibly preferring this over being in a quiet library together.

"um y/n your.. your um strap." looking down at yourself and lifting your strap back up and into place. you didn't have a bra on either so it felt extra exposed. "thanks, sorry about that." you felt a little shy about it. "no worries, um did you want to take a break? we've been working for over an hour and a half." you agreed and moved some of your things to the side.

soobin had turned the study music off as you were about to get on your phone. "so what were you doing before this?" you look over at your laptop. making his camera camera screen larger. "i was just cleaning and getting some other homework done. killing time before you were ready. i almost wanted to get a head start cause i had so much time." that last sentence coming off a little harsh. but it was true!

"yea sorry about that.. they're been giving me closing shifts recently after my afternoon classless and i don't get to do anything until i'm home." it was out of his control..oh poor soobin..

"it's fine, at least you're willing to actually do the work, i appreciate it."he smiles at your response. of course he would be helpful. "i feel kinda bad tho, wouldn't your boyfriend be mad about spending late nights with me?" he dragged out his words a little. "i don't have a boyfriend." responding immediately , felt like you had to.

he laughs slightly at your reply. "just expected someone as pretty as you are to be taken already." his words made your face feel hot, how did he do that. he's left you speechless..

"tell me y/n, what are you doing after this?" his voice became a bit deeper, with a sultry tone. "probably sleeping, wouldn't want to stay up too late." nodding his head, seems like a reasonable to do.. what's he thinking?

"well after this i'm also heading to bed, but just before i sleep i'm going to think about how cute you look in that tank top." all the heat from your face just went straight to your core. did he mean that..

he ran his hand through his hair. "and how it'd look if i just lifted it up just right above your tits.. running my fingers lightly over you." starting to squirm in your chair. how's this even happening. "i'm getting hard just thinking about it right now, too bad i'll have to imagine it." biting his bottom lip as he stares back at you for a bit. "anyways, lets get back to work, wouldn't want you to sleep late." he went back to flipping through his papers.

you blinked at how fast he was able to move from that. he can't just talk to you like that and you get nothing out of it, no fair. after collecting your thoughts you get back to work, still no music playing. you could hear soobin's breathing, and how fast your heart is beating still.

you knew soobin's eye's shifted to your screen quite often, maybe he wanted to make sure you were focused, maybe he just wanted to just be reminded how hot you looked right now. deciding to lean in closer to your laptop, your breast would squish closer together, looking like they might spill out of your loose tank top.

soobin groans."don't do that." he leans back in his chair. "do what?" playing dumb. you notice his right hand is blow his desk, what if he's stroking himself.."you seem distracted soobin, remember, we still have 30 minutes to work tonight." he rolls his eyes, "how about another break? I'm sorta getting tired of this assignment."

you lean back in your seat, keeping eye contact with him on the screen. "sure, it's up to you." soobin's right hand still unseen, you wanna play see what he's up to so bad. "oh come on, you don't wanna show me what you're busy doing?" his tongue darts out his mouth swiping across his bottom lip and bitting down on it before speaking. "so eager? our break just started." scoffing at his reply, you lean right back in closer.

"come on let me see..i'll do whatever you want right after." earning a whimper from him, he goes to move his pc camera down slightly and scoots back a little. he was wearing grey sweats, they were pulled down slightly along with his boxers. entire cock out, stroking it slowly. you could see the small beads of precum coming out from his pretty pink tip. wondering how much that pc camera cost..

you could moan at this sight, him biting his lip so he doesn't release any sounds, feeling so vulnerable from you staring at him in this state. "you look so cute soobin." his whimpers still being held back. "your turn now, please?" "fine if you say so."

thinking about his fantasy, deciding to make it real. you lift your top slowly and letting it rest just above your breast like he imagined. his faced was so torn, losing it over how hot you looked. running your fingers all over your chest, teasing yourself with your soft touches and grazes. this just felt so hot, everything about this was so hot.

"you're just as gorgeous as i imagined, so pretty baby, can i call you that?" he sounded so good. the slight whine in his voice and pauses in his sentences, you would do anything he asked. "yes please, do whatever you want." "so needy, how cute."

still playing with his tip "wish i could kiss those pretty tits, pinch them and hear your pretty moans, could you do that for me baby?" your breathing is heavy, nodding at him. lifting both your hands, with just the tips of your pointer fingers, rubbing them both your nipples lightly. you felt so sensitive, jolting at your own touches, you could hear him moaning at you. eye lids wanting to close but you kept them open and you could see his left hand going under his shirt and rubbing his chest, you could see his abs... there's no way he's real.

after teasing your nipples for a few more seconds, deciding to pinch them, immediately letting out a loud moan. "god yes, let me hear you." you could see his fist moving up and down his cock faster as he watched you tease yourself. "wanna touch yourself pretty? please i wanna see how you do it."

he's making you feel so good and he's not even here, you need him so bad after this. your right hand starts diving down to your shorts, under your panties. "let me see how wet you are baby." collecting some of your slick to show him. "your so wet, i wish i could taste you..will you let me next time?" thank goodness he feels the same way.

going back to under shorts, you flicked your clit a couple of times, earning him some more of your pretty moans. slipping one finger in, thrusting it as fast as you could on your own. left hand still playing with your breast, everything felt so good, soobin's voice praising you and moaning after. "you wanna cum so badly don't you? wish it was my fingers?" "uh huh." nodding as you inserted a second finger, his words felt so good.

"i'm gonna cum soon baby, keep moaning for me pretty. cum with me, wanna see you lose it." you both kept going until you felt that knot in your stomach snap. thighs shaking, bitting down on your bottom lip. you didn't know you could be this loud. soobin's moans when he came were so mouthwatering, throwing his head back while he came with ropes of cum. wanna taste him..

"so good baby, you did so good for me." trying to catch your breathing, pulling your top down to cover yourself, licking your cum off your fingers. "so dirty for me." "your so hot soobin." orgasm high hitting you fast, you just wanna compliment him and kiss him so bad, wishing he was here. "that felt so good, i can't believe it."

after the both of you guys calmed down, just in each other silent presence. "i'm glad that happened. i didn't really plan for that but, you just.. looked really good right now." making you blush again, he's so kissable. "maybe we could work on the project at my place next time, or yours.." "yea i'd like that."

#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt imagines #soobin imagines #soobin x reader #soobin scenarios #soobin smut

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aquickstart · 4 months

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ok sure i'll talk about farleigh start. i'll talk about his tragedy of never being enough as it were and then having to deal with fucking oliver. sure. disclaimer: it's about class (and race) and the horrible reality of the rich. the horrible reality of living as farleigh.

another disclaimer: i'm white! and poc definitely pick up on everything i'm talking about here as it is, and better. i was and am specifically interested in farleigh vs. oliver but it's impossible to examine without considering race. definitely let me know if anything abt this sucks!

farleigh and oliver are similar. it's annoying because every intruder that is not himself is annoying, partly because felix's attention swaying from farleigh is dangerous; there is always a threat of being discarded, even if no precedent existed. the potential is terrifying.

but you'd think he's seen this before, every summer (if venetia is telling the truth) or at least often enough to learn to recognize it fast, so he should know this will pass. part of it is i think still the deep anxiety, and i think he hated every boy that was there before, and it is sort of routine.

but definitely a huge factor in farleigh's annoyance is the fact that he's a biracial (black for cattons, that's all they see) man in a white rich household. he's alert and exhausted all the time. of course he's angry at oliver, regardless of whether he's the first to crash at saltburn for the summer or the fifty-first.

but the important thing is this.

farleigh is very jealous of and angry and pissed at oliver because farleigh sees all the similarities between them. outsider, in financial trouble, whatever it is, in need of cattons; and yet oliver is preferred. and farleigh seems to be the only one to really consider it. felix does not pick up on the hint when farleigh brings up the birthday party vs. his mother. felix's clumsy "different or... anything like that" is as much about race as it is about class, of course. the "we've done all that we can" bit is felix absolving himself of guilt because surely they had, surely the mysterious collective cattons that he's not really part of had tried all they could do. to him, farleigh is different from oliver, because farleigh has been helped. felix is rich and white and twofold uncomfortable with farleigh, even if he's nice about it, even if he genuinely enjoys his company; he doesn't look too close at farleigh because he feels too guilty to come too close. and farleigh can't do anything about it. he can't nice himself into it. the fucking tragedy of him is that he's never enough in the world of the ultra-rich white, even if (especially because!) he's born into it.

farleigh is very pissed at oliver because farleigh also sees all the differences between them. you know who can be nice poor white enough to fit in? fucking oliver. felix says "just be yourself, they'll love you" when oliver first moves in. farleigh was also probably told the same thing, and felix also probably believed that farleigh could just be himself, but even if the cattons were magically not racist at all (impossible), it wouldn't make a difference to farleigh. he would still self-censor, keep in check, be in dangerous waters (because racism is not just about the individual, but about the system). we see that he'd won himself leeway by years of trial and error by the way he speaks to the family, but it's still within the boundaries of acceptable, built by the cattons. he's part of them because they allow it, and farleigh is very, very aware.

the annoying thing is oliver can be himself. like, truly, genuinely, he can just be. and farleigh can't help but envy that.

as a side note, oliver is obviously jealous of farleigh in the beginning as well, because regardless of the reality of farleigh's situation, he was born into it, and hence, at least in oliver's mind, has his position solidified. oliver's whole thing is unquenchable thirst and hunger for whatever and everything the cattons have (including themselves!). he wishes to have been a catton from birth. to oliver, at first, there's nothing farleigh can really do to lose it. and until he figures out the cattons completely, he can't help but envy that.

but i think farleigh senses something different about oliver early on. at least on the level of the text, we have "you're almost passing [for] a real, human boy", which is so important because farleigh is the first to point out oliver's weirdness. the next to do so is venetia in the bath scene calling him a freak, but it's too late. farleigh is too early.

and i like to think he clocks oliver too early because he sees the jagged edges that he recognizes in himself. i think that one other thing that farleigh envies is oliver's freedom to let go. freedom to let go is very similar to freedom to be, but not quite the same.

to be is about perception: farleigh knows he cannot fall out of line, but would like to, and oliver does not have to worry about it at all (i mean, he does, because oliver also performs for felix, but farleigh doesn't know that).

to let go is about the self: farleigh is too scared to even want what oliver eventually does, to even consider the possibility. oliver can let himself want. oliver can let himself act. oliver just can do things and want things. i'm not sure farleigh can.

and so in this scene, when oliver's wants and actions have landed him nowhere with farleigh, felix, venetia, the cattons, of course farleigh gloats. he can let himself do that, because if the cattons are slowly discarding him, farleigh can allow himself this one small victory. he's relieved because despite the dangerous similarities, oliver is, thankfully, not really the same as farleigh, right?

but like. this movie is a love letter to all things gothic. oliver is a white man. he prevails. the brief performance that oliver put on did eventually end up more effective than farleigh's lifetime of constraint. my heart fucking breaks for him to be honest.

the issue that remains is the fact of farleigh's survival. i like to think that oliver came to respect him. oliver is smart, but farleigh is clever. he picks up on everything oliver does (to refer back to the karaoke scene, farleigh immediately retaliates in the cleverest way, in the moment), and he's the only one to do so consistently (venetia, again, for example, comes close, but too late; oliver doesn't like that, there's nothing to work with). hence, stay with me for a little longer, the paradox: farleigh survives because he was never enough for the cattons, but he is very worthy of oliver's attention. in his own freaky way, oliver wants him. look at that.

so. farleigh. farleigh might come back. he always comes back. and i think oliver wants to try harder next time.

#saltburn #farleigh start #i think someone mentioned how the race commentary was fleeting in that scene abt his mom but i disagree #it runs thru the whole movie #because oliver is white and because they're pitted against each other #im not saying its the best commentary ever and also like the movie is not about it at all #but it's there and it's pretty prominent #also on a completely different note can we talk about how oliver correctly assumed everyone at saltburn desires him carnally #dude pulled all the bitches by being strange and off-putting. i mean i completely get it. completely get it. i'd fold so fast you've no ide #also while i was writing i realized that yes indeed both farleigh and oliver perform for felix and its so fascinating #and it works for oliver because of course it does because hes white #anyway! again! let me know if this sucks #in like any way at all #i needed a masterpost of all and every thought i have about farleigh #i think this pretty much covers it so i'll let it go now #HES SO. like do you UNDERSTAND #the DEFINITION of doomed by the narrative but i LOVE that he survives #as he SHOULD #emerald is so right. he does come back and quickstart just torture each other in that house forever. besties for life #god im gonna shut up now this is so horrendously long #mine #saltburn journaling

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anxiousnerdwritings · 9 months

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Targaryen-Royce!Darling

“As their child grows up I think Daemon and Rhea will come to the unwanted realization that their child is the dangerous mix of both of them. And neither particularly likes that the other is so prominently ingrained in their child’s development. But that doesn’t make them care for their child any less, if anything it makes both of them want to further bring out their own behaviorism and tendencies out of their child.”

That’s true, their bby will probably become a legendary warrior and dragonrider once they’re older- as well the lord/lady of Runestone since they’re the only child and heir (and they’d rather keep it that way). But look at their parents and don’t think they aren’t raising another lord/lady/conquerer in their hands. They are their most treasured pride and joy after all.

But I think they’d be a mama’s bby for a brief time whenever Daemon has his quarrels with his brother and the council at King’s Landings. Rhea would be spoiling them while he does that and let’s not forget- she’d be shit talking about Daemon and how they’re the only good thing that came out of him.

And Daemon would definitely be lavishing them with expensive gifts alongside with a dragonrider saddle and tell them he’d happily them how to ride their dragon when it’s time someday. But he definitely takes them for rides on Caraxes often.

Since they move back and forth from King’s Landing and to the Vale, I can only imagine the tension increases between both parents. But what would happen if they’re darling we’re to get abducted for ransom? A temporal formed alliance just to get them back unharmed? Maybe. I think they would considerate for their bby sakes but decided ‘fuck that’ and decided to work separately with their own allies.

I can see Rhaenyra happy to have a playmate- even if they go and come back way too often. Because Rhea usually comes back on horse to King’s Landing pissed off with some Vale soldiers behind her to take back her bby because Daemon keeps taking them to king’s landing without her knowledge. At least she gets to be entertained by witnessing two parents verbally fighting over her favourite cousin as Viserys tries to meditate the situation but fails to proceed.

As for the three-headed dragon that hatched when their precious darling was a happy toddler; imagine if it became the next Balerion the Black Dread but much bigger. It’s clingy with the darling and let’s just say it keeps swatting everyone with it’s tail whenever they tried holding their future dragonrider. Daemon just gets offended at it while Rhea just angrily responds by setting back at the growing dragon before quickly taking her child.

Poor Darling is stuck in a hostile environment between two parents who detests each other and practically hovers over them 24/7. Not the most ideal life to live in but at least they get a dragon out of it. 😂

Oh yeah. Rhea and Dameon’s child would be the epitome of a fighter, even at a young age. You can’t tell me their child wasn’t beating the shit out of other kids or even adults for doing something that the Reader didn’t agree with. Unlike Daemon though, his child would have more of a moral code and honor to go by having been primarily raised by Rhea and House Royce/House Arryn in general. As much as both Daemon and Rhea adore their child, they’re both well aware of what their child can be capable of especially once they’re older. And with a dragon at their side, let alone a massive three-headed one at that, their child is able to up and leave whenever and to wherever with not much to stop them. The most that can be done is Daemon going after his child but even then he’d most likely turn it into a bonding adventure to spend with his bby and may very well never bring their child back to Rhea, choosing to instead take them to the free cities and reside there with them all to himself. And Rhea would absolutely go berserk if that were to ever happen. She would march to King’s Landing and demand that Viserys do something to get her child back and have Daemon never ever be able to interact with her bby again. Not that Viserys would go that far but he would feel obligated to bring the Reader home to their mother.

With all the quarreling and hostility between Rhea and Daemon, I could very well see Viserys having the Reader reside at King’s Landing where both their parents would have to come to visit them instead of having the Reader being pulled and forced to the Vale or wherever Daemon’s been staying. This would be the best thing for Rhaenyra to get to have her beloved cousin by her side for longer than usual. It may have even been due to Rhaenyra’s desperate want for her cousin to be closer or even Aemma’s concern over the hostile environment that the Reader was being brought up in on either side that really got Viserys to take some form of initiative. He may even think that if his brother’s child is at King’s Landing then it may get Daemon to behave or act accordingly, as if. If anything, Daemon may act out even more than before to show off for his kiddo and thus causing even more trouble than usual.

I wholeheartedly see Daemon and Rhea’s child being extremely close to their dragon. They do absolutely everything together while the dragon is still a small, and that doesn’t necessarily stop when the dragon continues to grow and grow bigger than any dragon seen before. If anything the dragon’s need for space outside of the Reader’s bedchambers or any dragon keep would only lead to more adventurous behavior on the Reader’s part. They would do anything to be close to their dragon, even if their mother vehemently forbids it. More often then not the entire Vale would be thrown into a frenzy when the Reader is no where to be seen only to be found cuddled up with their massive dragon who is so tenderly curled around them in a protective and comforting manner. The only thing is trying to bypass the dragon to get to the Reader, it certainly doesn’t help having all three heads glaring down their snouts at the party who’s come to retrieve its’ precious dragon rider just daring them to try and do something.

If anything were to ever happen to Daemon and Rhea’s child, there would be a consideration on both parts to work together but it wouldn’t last very long. If anyone is going to bring their bby home it was going to be them separately. But they wouldn’t even have to do much given that the Reader’s dragon would be the first one to find and reunite with them, causing absolute havoc and catastrophe in its wake trying to reach the side of it’s beloved rider again.

#anxious answers #yandere daemon targaryen #yandere rhea royce #yandere house of the dragon #yandere house of the dragon concept #yandere game of thrones concept #yandere concept

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eoieopda · 1 year

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blindsided (myg)

After years of dating, you thought you had Min Yoongi all figured out - you didn't. And when he flipped the script on you, you never saw it coming.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader | Darksided AU Type: Sequel to darksided. Word Count: 6K Content: SMUT (18+ - Minors DNI,) established relationship au, POV switch, softbf!yoongi turned dom!yoongi, sub!reader, sex tape, oral sex (f receiving,) v fingering, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, squirting, multiple orgams, over-stimulation, spanking, biting, blindfold, praise kink, pussy slapping, general depravity, aftercare, fried chicken. A/N: Seriously, go read darksided (linked above) if you haven't yet. This takes place approx. two weeks later, and while the context isn't necessary, things will make more sense! Check out the playlist while you’re here. Tags: @exhibitachol @sstarryoong @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @miraculous-disaster @wakeupinahaze

For the first time in his life, Yoongi was avoiding his studio.

He had a mountain of work left to do on his mixtape – and, importantly, the drive to finish it – but that was precisely why he’d stayed away. Anytime he stepped foot inside over the past two weeks, his mind wandered far, far away from the task at hand. His previously unyielding discipline fell by the wayside the second he crossed the threshold.

Instead of focusing on the tracks he had yet to write, or perfecting the ones he'd already recorded, his eyes would roam over the surface of his desk on the other side of the room. It'd since been returned to its usual state, covered in various notebooks, and recording equipment. But it looked so much better with your bare, sweat-slicked body writhing on top of it.

And when he'd finally muster the willpower to look back at his computer, his gaze would pass over - and then jerk back to - the wall he’d pinned you against as his fingers fucked a river out of you. His blood pressure would spike as he pictured you there, relying on him to hold you upright, and any hope of accomplishing anything would drop dead on the floor.

The very same floor you’d fastidiously scrubbed to erase the mess he’d made of you, no less.

And then he’d think to himself: This isn’t a workspace anymore - it’s holy ground.

Yoongi was running out of time, though, and he had to do his best to keep his mind on his work, off of you. Catching himself once again rewinding through recent memories, he let out a groan and forced his wandering eyes back to the screen in front of him.

He realized as he scrolled through his editing software that he’d done a piss-poor job of labeling his masters lately. This, of course, made it impossible for him to remember which track was which. On a whim, he chose the file in the middle of the folder and brought it up.

If he’d paid attention to the size of the file, he could’ve prepared himself for the consequences of pressing ‘play' - but he didn’t and he wasn't.

“I really couldn’t love you more if I tried.” "Should I shut it off now until you're ready to start?" "I can cut it down. I do need you to cue the track, though - when I signal you."

Biting down hard on his bottom lip, he secured his headphones over his ears. He’d never been less interested in hearing his own music; so, without a second thought, he skipped over the next three minutes. As he did, his hand dropped down to palm his hardening dick through his jeans.

“Is it me, baby? Have I got you dizzy?”

Your little whimpers were barely audible in the recording, but they still managed to ignite a fire in the pit of his stomach. The blaze spread throughout his body when he pictured the way you looked below him then - so soft and shy, but with such carnal desire sparking in the dark of your eyes.

“I can’t give you what you want if you can’t tell me what that is.”

Anticipating your next line, his hand tensed around his cock. It was a pale imitation of that vice grip he found between your thighs, but it was something; and he would've taken anything.

“I don’t want you to be gentle with me. I - I know that you -”

Even caged between the walls of unimaginable heat, the irony of it all wasn't lost on him. The best recording he'd ever produced was created purely by accident -

“Stupid girl. You know nothing.”

- and it wasn't music at all.

“Get up.”

With Yoongi working hard on his creative pursuits, you begrudgingly committed to addressing your own. Like him, you had a to-do list long enough to circle the globe; but unlike him, you weren't buried in projects because you wanted to be.

When Yoongi crossed off a task, he scribbled five more in its place. His mind never idled because he found inspiration everywhere. A half-remembered vignette from childhood that shook itself loose to become something beautiful. A word he encountered in passing that he’d transform into some modern-day epic. He generated this much work solely because his passion - like his potential - was limitless.

To the contrary, you generated this much work because you were easily distracted. You’d start one project, and before you could finish it, your attention would flutter off on the wind like dandelion seeds. All those half-starts would stockpile until you eventually boxed yourself into a corner - and then, somehow, you'd keep stacking.

Today's task was simple: you needed to transfer your recent photos from your camera's memory card to your laptop. Easy. Drag files from one folder to another, and then your contribution to this month's magazine spread would be finished. It should've only taken an hour - at most - for the upload to complete.

Instead of doing what you intended, you ended up where you always did: happily lost in the weeds. This particular distraction was a folder from four years ago, when Yoongi took you on an anniversary trip to Paris. If you really had to defend this tangent, your scattered brain's game of word association wasn't far off - the photos you were supposed to tend to were from Paris Fashion Week.

That counts for something, right?

You snorted as you toggled through your archive. Had you taken a single photo of the stunning architecture, or countless historical sites you’d visited? Of course not. But you had snapped approximately one-hundred shots of an unaware Min Yoongi - buying you macarons; befriending a stray cat by an ATM; grimacing as he sipped wine you both hated but spent too many Euros on to waste.

Wait, what were you supposed to be doing?

Whatever it was, you’d swear up and down that you really did intend to finish it, but then you heard familiar, muffled footsteps. And then you felt the mattress dip slightly under the tops of your thighs and the elbows you’d propped yourself up on.

And then the same Min Yoongi whose face beamed on your screen - slightly older, and even more adored - slid over the backs of your outstretched legs until his knees came to rest at either side of your ass. His body was warm as it loomed over you, but you shivered, nonetheless.

Leaning in, he pushed your hair over your right shoulder and pressed a warm kiss into your left. Though he'd targeted an area several centimeters away from your spine, the aftershocks of this chaste contact rippled down its length. From there, the current divested and shot through each of your limbs, paralyzing you.

You hummed and let your eyelids flutter shut. He ascended the arc of your shoulder, then your neck, leaving a smattering of kisses in his wake until the trail went cold. His quiet exhale tickled the skin below your ear, but he hovered in place - too far away.

Reflexively, you whined and tilted your head to look at him. Effectively pinned, all you could do was survey his profile in your peripheral vision. “Baby?” You nudged.

The hand he wasn’t using to hold his weight snuck under the hem of your tank-top and caressed the bare curve of your waist. His hypnotic ministrations on your side might’ve lulled you to sleep if you weren’t so intrigued by his so-far wordless affection.

Thoroughly spellbound, your lids closed again while your lips remained parted. There was a moan building slowly in your chest, taking its time, but it was a gasp that tore out of you when his teeth nicked your lobe. His tongue was quick to soothe the pinch, and even quicker to solicit a mewl.

You had no idea where this was coming from. Moreover, you didn't know what additional surprises this man was capable of. Though Yoongi had always been affectionate with you, he'd only recently unearthed some rare, raw sensuality that you never expected. In the time since this discovery, his touches became more frequent. You felt more of him underscoring each one, no matter how brief.

The fingers skimming over your waist disappeared and left you cold, but before you could process the loss, they reappeared - lower now, pushing up the bottom of your underwear, and gripping the doughy cheek of your ass. Hard. Instantaneously, your hazy eyes re-opened.

Min Yoongi truly contained multitudes.

"Have I told you that you're my muse?" He purred into the shell of your ear as his hand massaged the skin he'd likely bruised.

Enchanted once again, your sole response was a breathy moan. Only after his hand raised and smacked back against your ass did you realize he'd lulled you into a false sense of security.

"When I ask you a question, I want an answer. Do you understand, baby?"

Your shuttered breaths and accompanying nod weren't sufficient replies. His palm collided with your delicate cheek a second time, and it stayed there. The sting was muted by his fingers digging in and pinching; but it wasn't the pain that stole your attention.

Instead, it was the wetness gushing between your clenched thighs when he whispered, "Use your words, angel."

"I do," You muttered urgently, "I understand."

The grip on your ass dissolved. You knew better now than to trust the warm hand kneading your cheek, but you couldn't resist moaning. Fuck - his touch was perfect.

He contradicted the gentle caress below with a nip at your neck; and the kiss placed at that same spot preceded the true kill-shot. He hummed against your skin and your soul threatened to leave your body:

"Good girl."

The noise that escaped your mouth was stranded between a gasp and a cry. Oh, this man would be the death of you.

"You inspired my next project today," He murmured between kisses to your neck. The tip of his nose was cold as it brushed across your skin and that disparity in temperature left you in shambles. "Not something I've done before -" He paused to suckle at your neck, no doubt leaving a mark when he released you, "And I need your help, baby."

Another whimper escaped when his index finger snapped the elastic waistband of your boy-shorts; and you felt his mouth curve into a smirk. "I'll do anything -" You meant it. "Just - please, Yoongi, I need to feel you."

"You will," His mirth left him in a breathy chuckle. It vibrated through your body and formed goosebumps as it went. "But not yet, angel. I want to savor this."

Confused, you pouted - another exhaled laugh against your neck - and then, in a tiny voice, you asked, "What do you mean?"

His hand slid up the back of your neck. With the base of your skull held gently captive between his thumb and middle finger, he guided you to turn your head to the left, then down.

It didn't click right away. Silently, you blinked down at your camera. Is this what he wanted you to see? Why did - "Oh, no," you groaned as your head drooped forward.

"Oh no?" He repeated, and though he tried, he couldn't hide the surprise in his tone. You quickly realized that he mistook your reaction for disinterest. He couldn't have been more wrong.

Your sudden, complete deflation was simply your body buckling under the weight of unspeakable arousal. It anticipated the world-endingly perfect way he was about to fuck you; and it couldn't process the fact that it would all be memorialized. He really would be the end of you.

Your head tilted until it rested against the side of his. "The memory card inside it is full, but there's a new one in my bag."

Although you couldn't see it, you knew the corner of his mouth would twitch excitedly upwards at your words. At his, your mouth dropped open:

"Any clothes you're still wearing when I come back to this bed will be ripped off. Got it?"

It was difficult to tell which part of this exchange made your legs quiver the most: the stern warning itself; the contradictory soft, husky tone in which he said it; or the kiss the top of your head received when you responded - out loud - in the affirmative. He was gone before you could figure it out, making his way to the camera bag in the corner of your bedroom.

He'd barely taken two steps when you frantically pulled your oversized tank-top over your head. It landed somewhere out of sight, and it was swiftly joined by your underwear - grey fabric soaked black. Your laptop was more carefully dismissed, tucked gently under the nightstand to avoid being ruined the way you were sure to be.

When your head hit the pillow, your heart was already racing. Suddenly, you felt shy as you lay naked in your own bed, like you hadn't been in this position so many times before. There was a long-forgotten anticipation turning flips in your stomach. It bent your knees and brought your arms up to rest over your bare chest - you hadn't felt it since the very first time Yoongi saw you like this.

As if he'd been summoned by your thoughts, Yoongi walked towards you with his focus trained on the camera in his hands. The tip of his tongue poked out through pursed lips as he carefully slotted the new memory card into the bottom, but it disappeared when the compartment clicked shut again.

He froze when he looked up at you, and your hammering heart threatened to make a break for it.

"Baby," He was frowning. You raced to figure out which of his directions you failed to follow; but he interrupted the frenzy in your brain with that maddeningly soft, stern voice, "Why are you hiding?"

Mouth open and poised to respond - with what, you weren't sure - you were cut off by the extended finger he raised to silence you. You clamped your jaw shut; his mouth curved ever-so-slightly at your quick compliance.

See? You wanted to say, I'm learning!

He removed the lens cap before his eyes flitted back up to you. "Hands above your head -" You did as he asked, though you didn't know where this was going. "- Close your eyes -" Again, you obeyed. "Don't move."

And you didn't.

You laid there with your eyes closed and listened for any sign of what was coming next. You could hear the muffled tread of his bare feet on the rug; and you expected further instructions - none came. Then you waited for any familiar noise from your camera - there was silence. But you smelled his cologne as he came closer, and the warmth you suddenly felt at your side told you that he’d reached you.

“Lift your head up – but keep your eyes closed.”

The eyebrow you raised in question was covered with some cool, silky fabric before Yoongi could have registered it. You received your answer in his actions. Gentle fingers adjusted the way the blindfold fell over your eyes, and then – even more gently – they tied a knot at the back of your head. Not too tight, but firm enough to keep it from slipping. It was no surprise to you that he’d handled this without disturbing a single hair on your head.

His hands, once behind your head, now cupped your face. “You listen so well, angel,” He murmured before plush lips brushed against your forehead. “Lay back down the way you were.”

Your head returned to the pillow and your elbows bent to allow your hands to meet above it. And you waited like that, trying to sense what his next move would be.

His footsteps padded off, and you figured he was seeking the best place to set up the camera. He paused, though, after only taking a few steps. The camera whirred – the auto-focus, you recognized immediately – and then it clicked.

“So beautiful – you know that, don’t you? How stunning you are?”

Click.

“Perfect -”

Click.

“Mine”

You couldn't help wondering how his photos would turn out. If your cheeks weren’t red under the blanket of his praise, it’d only be because you’d turned into a puddle. Your arousal had strayed far enough to slick the insides of your thighs, and if he didn’t touch you soon, you might liquify entirely and seep through the mattress to the floor.

In the distance, plastic settled on wood. The strap affixed to your camera slithered over whatever surface he’d chosen; you could hear it slip over an edge, then it was silent. The bookshelf, you decided, third row from the top. Maybe second, if he liked the angle better?

Without speaking first, he crawled up onto the foot of the bed. He paused there, likely kneeling in front of you. His hands slipped under your bent knees, and the only warning you got was him purring, “Come here,” mere seconds before you were pulled forward. You imagined that your gasp was still hanging in the air when you slipped out from under it.

As soon as he was satisfied with your proximity, his hands found the insides of your knees and encouraged your legs to spread. “Now, baby -” He started, the heat of his breath indicating just how close his mouth was to your weeping cunt. “You’ll make sure the camera can hear you, won’t you?”

The word was caught in your throat, suddenly bashful, but it eventually slipped out, “Yes.”

You knew you’d failed as soon as you heard it, and you didn’t need to wait long to face the consequences. You jolted when his flattened fingers collided with your cunt - the sensation was a surprise, but the sound was what shocked you. Fuck! You could hear how wet he had you already.

Sodden, pooling, dripping.

“Don’t be selfish, angel,” He tutted after withdrawing his touch from you, “Those sounds might come out of your mouth, but they don't belong to you, do they?”

“No -” Your desperation was palpable when you responded with your whole chest. “They don’t. I – I won’t be selfish, I promise -”

You cried out when he slapped your cunt a second time, an obscene chord formed by surprise, torment, and unbearable need.

“Whose are they?”

“Yours!” You choked, “They’re yours. I’m yours.”

His arms hooked under your thighs and your pulse skyrocketed. “See? You are learning.”

And then he lurched forward, flat tongue dragging upwards over your core with a pressure so perfect, your entire body tensed. He squeezed your legs harder when your back arched, and it prevented you from inadvertently slipping away from him.

That devilish tongue swirled over your clit, and all you could manage was a whisper of a moan. He corrected you wordlessly, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs. The groan he pulled from you ricocheted off each one of your ribs on the way out. Satisfied, he hummed in approval against your cunt before he proceeded to flick dizzying circles over your increasingly sensitive bud; alternating paces in the way he knew would drive you mad.

Both of your arms reached out, and your hands carded through his hair. You pulled him ever closer, which prompted him to shake his head furiously with the flat of his tongue pressed against your heat.

“Oh, fuck!” you wailed. As much as you wanted to watch him, you knew that – even without the blindfold - the way his mouth moved so expertly against you would have made it too difficult to keep your eyes open. They were already covered, but you squeezed them tight enough to see stars as he suckled your clit. “Shit, baby – ah – feels so good.”

The thread holding you together frayed further and further with every brush of his tongue against your most sensitive spot. The sound of his breathing, ragged and muffled with your thighs pressed harshly against the sides of his head, would have done unspeakable things to you - if your mindless gasping didn't threaten to drown him out completely.

He shifted without removing his mouth from you, and he unhooked his right arm from under your leg. The heel of his hand glided up over your pelvis, your navel, and your breasts before stopping at the underside of your jaw. Two fingers tapped at your chin; you took the hint and took them into your mouth.

His tongue never let up on your clit as you slicked his fingers, suckling on them the way he did you. Once he was satisfied with the work you’d done, he pulled his hand back down to your cunt.

Tongue still relentless at your clit, his middle finger swung the focus to your entrance, which was drenched by his saliva and your own slick. Meticulous and slow, he slid his finger inside of you. He moaned at the way you constricted around him; you melted.

He never struggled to find that secret spot hidden behind your pubic bone. He'd proven time and time again that he was more in tune with your body than you were. Every curve, dip, and line had been committed to muscle memory.

He could anticipate your reaction to every touch, even when those reactions varied based upon your mood or your energy level - and it was automatic. Unthinking but knowing. He teased this spot without mercy, and as he likely expected, you began to shake under his touch.

The growing feeling in the pit of your stomach was one you knew he strived for. His favorite trick, once he knew the secret. And whenever you tried to resist – still uncomfortable with the way your body reacted to him – he gave you no choice.

No poet could adequately describe how completely your orgasm consumed you. With the way you jolted against his mouth, he could’ve electrocuted you. You wriggled and writhed in his arms as you came, but he didn’t stop, even as your walls clenched around his fingers and your thighs pressed even more tightly against the sides of his head.

Your familiar moans devolved into some desperate sounds you’d never made before, curse words spilling out over your lips as you just kept cumming – but he still held tight to you as you bucked wildly in his arms.

There was unbelievable pressure until there wasn’t.

“Fuck, I love it when you do that,” He growled with his face nestled into your quivering, dripping inner thigh. His teeth nicked the skin but were swiftly replaced with a kiss from his ravenous, open mouth. “That’s my good girl.”

He let you collapse back onto the bed, but he denied you any time to recover.

“I think you can do it again, baby. What do you think?” He teased, alternating words and quick kisses along the interior of your thigh. “Should we see how much more you can take?”

You babbled something in response, but neither of you could’ve interpreted what you meant. Your limp neck rolled to the side while you tried to catch your breath; there wasn’t time. You felt him coat his fingers in the remnants of your orgasm moments before he slid them inside of you and curled them upward.

The combination of relentless pressure and a feverish pace dotted stars across the insides of your eyelids. Breathless, dangling at the edge of a precipice, you stammered, “Yoo-Yoongi -”

Despite the obscene squelch of his ministrations, his voice rang through, clear as a bell. “What, angel? Do you want to come again?” Stupidly, you nodded, but he didn’t scold you. Given your fucked-out state, he seemed to forgive your mistake. “Then come.”

The blindfold covering your eyes was black, but your vision went white. As you spasmed and gushed uncontrollably around his fingers, there was a moment where you could’ve sworn your soul ejected itself from your body. If it was floating above you now, it would’ve seen how thoroughly you’d drenched your boyfriend; and how perfect he still looked with your juices dripping off his chin.

His weight was shifting at your feet when you returned to your body. It took everything you had, but you lifted one, limp arm out in his general direction. No words, just an outstretched hand begging to find him. When it did, he slotted his fingers perpendicularly under yours, rubbed the pad of his thumb over your knuckles, and kissed the top of your hand.

“What color?” he murmured against your skin.

You sighed softly, exhausted but not yet entirely spent, “Green.” You paused and chewed on your bottom lip. After a moment of quiet, you asked, “Yoongi?”

“Yes, baby?”

It was pitiful how your request barely rolled off of your tongue, but the answer would surely be no if you didn’t ask. “Can I see you?”

He was silent for a moment – so, the answer would be no even though you did ask – but then you heard his soft chuckle. Even after he pulled the blindfold off, your eyes were useless. Somewhere in the bright white haze was Yoongi, though you couldn’t confirm that the shadow in front of you was truly him. Maybe you truly had died.

Blinking furiously, you refused to stop until your eyes remembered how to focus. Slowly, slowly, slowly, the dark figure before you took a familiar shape. Shirtless, with damp, black waves clinging to his cheekbones – there he was. Concern was etched into his features, but his narrowed eyes relaxed when you shot him a smile.

“Color?” You inquired with a squeeze of your hand.

When he dropped your hand, your heart fell with it. But he sat up on his knees, placed that hand on your cheek, and captured your lips in a kiss. It was perfect, but it was torturously brief.

“Green,” He replied. He backed away from you until he was standing at the foot of the bed. One hand dropped to his belt buckle while the index finger on his other hand beckoned you.

You crawled towards him until his palm silently instructed you to stop.

“Elbows on the mattress, ass up,” He ordered as he made short work of his belt. It slid easily through the loops of his ripped jeans and clattered as it hit the floor.

You leaned forward as he instructed, knees and elbows digging into the comforter you’d absolutely need to wash later – especially considering the way your mouth watered when his jeans and boxers were discarded and kicked aside. Were you drooling?

Your body buzzed with anticipation as he crossed to the side of the bed. You wished he took his time sidling over to you, so your eyes could continue to devour his lean, snow-white frame; but if the stiff cock encircled by his hand was any indication, Yoongi wasn’t interested in wasting time. Instead, he pushed himself up onto the bed, out of sight, and the next thing you felt was his hand collecting your hair, pulling, and forcing your face up to the camera.

His free hand squeezed your ass cheek when he said, “Eye contact, baby. Show the camera how I make you feel. Can you do that?”

With his tip teasing at your entrance, you weren’t confident that you could – but you’d sure as hell try. “I can,” Your determination was clear, even if the voice conveying it wavered. “I will.”

“Good girl,” He hummed. He released your hair and placed a kiss on the same shoulder blade he had earlier - when he last had you in this position. “Now, take a deep breath for me.”

It wasn’t graceful, the way you sucked in air as he penetrated you; it was an unholy, strangled sound, and it crashed through the quiet like a wrecking ball. Every instinct begged your head to droop forward, and your back to curve up upwards, but you fought them off. Praise for your efforts tumbled out over your spine between Yoongi’s shuttered moans. His noises had you clenching around his cock, and the tightened grip of your cunt transformed them into something guttural.

He paused when he bottomed out. Like you, he seemed to be at a loss for words. The hand gripping your hip was holding on for dear life; and the one curved over your shoulder kept you in place, allowing him to bury himself as deeply as possible.

He didn’t speak until he slowly started withdrawing himself from you, “I love the way you take me, how that tight pussy fights me whenever I leave.”

As his cock dragged over your g-spot, your entire body shivered. He felt it and chuckled; you hiccupped, “Still so s-sensitive.”

“Green?”

“More -” You begged, “Please, baby.”

You asked for it, but you weren’t ready for it. His hips snapped forward and drove him back into you before you could process what was happening. And when he kept up that ravenous pace, rutting over and over and over your detonator, it took everything you had not to explode.

All your willpower was spent trying to withstand his thrusts, though – nothing could keep you from collapsing forward onto the bed as your white-knuckled fingers gripped the comforter below.

Before your body could fully settle over the mattress, his hand on your shoulder evolved into an arm hooking over you. He pulled you upright as his arm crossed over your heaving chest; he didn’t stop until he had you pinned to his.

Fucking upwards into you with shallow, staccato strokes, he scolded you. “What did I tell you?” His hand dropped from your hip and dipped between your quivering thighs. His rapid thrusts didn’t falter as his middle finger began to assault your clit. “Hmm? What did I just say?”

“Eye conta -”

The end of that word mutated into a scream. He snapped his hips forward so suddenly, you never anticipated being shoved off the edge of the world. Your orgasm ripped through you, shutting off your brain and forcing your entire body to convulse around him.

You went limp when you fell from your high; Yoongi’s hold on you tightened to keep you from collapsing. Unrelenting, he just – kept – rutting. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

You wailed when that fourth wave crashed down over you. Caught in its riptide, you spoke in tongues; writhing and shrieking and imploding. Could a person die from coming this hard?

Yoongi’s panting pulled you out of the abyss he’d thrown you in. “Shit,” He hissed, “I’m so close - fuck, you feel so good -” You felt it all over when he growled into your ear, “Tell me where you want it, baby.”

You answered, but it was impossible for your hazy brain to know for sure if you’d replied verbally or telepathically. Either way, he understood – he always understood – and his break-neck speed was replaced by deep, deliberate thrusts. He groaned out your name as his cock twitched inside you, painting your walls white.

The kiss Yoongi left in the crook of your neck didn’t wash away with the water cascading down over the two of you. You could still feel the uniqueness of its warmth, even in a cloud of steam - under the hot, heavy droplets hitting your skin.

Your eyes were closed to avoid the conditioner he was massaging into your scalp, but your exhaustion was likely to keep them that way. The only reason you hadn’t slipped down the drain yourself was your unspoken refusal to be separated from him. Though, with that invisible string tying the two of you together, you’d never be able to stray very far, even if you wanted to.

“Can you tilt your head back, love?”

This one was a request, not a command, and he made no effort to move it for you. The weight of your sleepiness caused your neck to roll more clumsily than you intended; it gave up, and your head bumped against his clavicle when it dropped backwards.

“Sorry,” you murmured, but he was already chuckling. “My motor skills seem to have clocked out early.”

His laugh ricocheted off the tile. “You won’t need them,” He mused as his hands gently worked the remaining conditioner from your hair. “We can use mine.” Then he kissed the crown of your head, not once but twice. You could feel his smile spread against your scalp when you giggled. “All done, baby.”

He’d taken his time with you; and he’d taken great care to clean – then kiss – every sore muscle he encountered. And when he was done, he used a large, plush towel to wick the lingering droplets from your skin. His hands on your waist steadied you as you stepped into a pair of sweatpants, and he smoothed the damp waves that you disrupted in unceremoniously tugging an oversized sweatshirt over your head.

Once the two of you were fully dressed, he cupped your face in his hands, kissed you deep, and asked, “Do you need a lift back to bed?” His eyes sparkled at his joke – of course, he meant lift literally – and his eyebrow arched when you meekly shook your head. “I’m not sold. Is that your final answer?”

You, once again, shook your head. He exhaled amusement through his nose at your indecision. Then, he placed his hands on your waist. Perfectly coordinated – as always – he lifted as you hopped, pulling you into his chest while your limbs wrapped around him. He carried you easily back into the bedroom and set you down gently on the bare mattress.

All of your bedding was spinning in the washing machine on the first floor of your home, but he had a fluffy, full-sized throw waiting there for you. You held up one side of it, silently inviting him to join you. When he settled at your side, your head ducked down and came to rest under his chin. As soon as his arm curled over your back, your heavy lids finally closed.

You were both quiet, one foot in a dream, when the growl of his stomach startled you both awake. Erupting into laughter, you each craned your neck to see the other beaming back.

He wiped the mirth pooling in the corner of his eye and sighed as his laughter petered out, “Delivery from that fried chicken place?”

“Oooh, yes, please.”

A/N: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! The response to the first post was so incredibly overwhelming, I simply had to write a follow-up. I might continue to add one-offs to this darksided cinematic universe (lol) simply because I love their relationship dynamic. And the sexual journey they seem to be on, hahahah. Please leave feedback so I know what you liked and what you didn't! Also, lmk if there’s something you’d want to see in any possible future installments 👀

2K notes · View notes

hushedlover · 1 year

Text

Screaming and Crying Part 2

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x reader

Summary: Part 2. You're recovering from the hurt Xavier caused. You've avoided him at all costs, but how long can it go on?

A/n: Here's part 2! I had so much fun writing this. Isabella is based off of one of my best friends who helped me proof read this lol

Requests are open! Send anything in!

The sun was setting by the time you made your way back to the school. Your phone had gone off multiple times with calls and texts from friends questioning your disappearance. You ignored them all. You couldn’t find it in you to care. The blood had long dried on your knuckles, not until after you had finished punishing the poor tree more. Your arm hung limp at your side, your wrist had swelled and was throbbing. Probably sprained or broken. You couldn’t find it in you to care about that either.

You were sure you looked crazy, your hair a wind blown mess, face tear stricken, and blood covering your hand. You walked through the quad and ignored the people who gawked at you. It was very few due to the late hour, dinner had passed so you just made your way to your dorm. Isabella, your roommate, would be pissed seeing as you had ignored every worried attempt she made to reach out to you. You were correct in your assumptions. The minute you swung your door open she was bolting to her feet.

“No, no she just came in. Yeah I'll call you back. Okay bye,” she hung up the phone and sighed. “That was Enid. We were worried sick about you! What happened? Oh my gosh your hand! Bitch, what happened?”

You surprised both yourself and Isabella when you broke out laughing at their outburst.It was odd, the rush of adrenaline you had gained from the situation. You felt floaty, like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. Isabella stood there, gaping at you. This caused more laughter to flow out of you due to them looking like the human embodiment of the stupid emoji everyone uses. She almost looked afraid of you. When you finally calmed your fit of giggles, they spoke.

“Girl, what the fuck. What is happening right now?”

“I don’t even know man. I’m... I'm so tired. And boys are buttheads.”

“You say that like that's something new. I’m telling you, women are just better. But what happened? Was it that blonde beanstock you’re always with? What’s his name? Tarzan?”

You laughed again,” Xavier. And yeah it was him. It was him and his infatuation with that Wednesday girl.”

“Oh my god,” Isabella dragged out the last syllable, “I can’t blame him girl she’s so fine!”

You just glared at her and moved to go to your shared restroom. You wanted to wash the blood off your hand and inspect the damage done.

“Way to rub salt in the wound, thank you. So much,” you muttered over the sound of the sink running.

“Listen. Here me out on this. Please, plEAaase,” they whined from the doorway.

“Just grab me some pajamas, will you? I think I need a shower to get all of this off. My plaid pajama pants please.”

You heard rustling and heard Isabella call out to you.

“Not to ruin the good mood or anything, but shouldn’t you be having a mental breakdown right now? You haven’t even told me what happened, but I feel like there should be more tears.”

“I think it’ll come later, I’m kind of-,” You cut yourself off to take the clothes she had gathered from them. “Thank you. I’m kind of numb right now. I think it’s shock. And adrenaline. I don’t know. Can I explain after my shower?”

“Fine, but hurry up. I wanna know what my reasoning is going to be for kicking Tarzan’s ass,” and with that they shut the door behind them.

You slipped into the shower, the warm water relaxing your muscles. The silence without music would usually bother you, but tonight it was welcomed. Your head was finally quiet. Thoughts of Xavier and Wednesday kissing and holding hands long forgotten. You were just looking forward to the weekend now.

—------

It had been 2 days since that night. Isabella had kept you sane and occupied all weekend. You had shit talked and stuffed your faces with all the junk food you could find. Isabella had also confiscated your phone, claiming that “We can’t risk you being a pussy and giving into your problem.” So if anyone had tried to contact you it went unanswered. Bianca and the twins, you and Isabella’s friends, knew to take her if they needed something.

It was Monday morning now. You really, really did not want to go to class knowing you would have to see both Xavier and Wednesday and all your mutual friends, but Isabella forced you. They told you to “women up” and be a bad bitch. But you really didn’t feel like a bad bitch. You felt a bit pathetic. Isabella threw a pillow at you, startling you from your thoughts.

You flipped them off and then slipped out of bed and went to get dressed. Due to the weather being so cold the rules on uniform were a bit more lenient so you slid on some leggings and your Nevermore crewneck. The sleeve stuck to the brace you had around your wrist, luckily you hadn’t broken it, but it was sprained pretty bad. Isabella was getting ready too, but when she saw you in your comfy outfit she paused.

“Tell me you are not planning on wearing that.”

You looked down, confused.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Girl! We get the chance to dress how we want, be cute!”

“Says you,” you grumbled playfully but went to change anyway.

You threw on some jeans and a long sleeve top with a t-shirt over it. Then you threw on some shoes and walked out of your closet.

“Is this better,” You raised your arms in question.

Isabella nodded in approval and then they shoved your bag and phone into your hands.

“Let’s go, Bianca is waiting and I’m hungry. You took too long.”

“What?,” You yelled as you were pushed out the door and towards the stairs. “You’re the one who made me change! I was ready!”

The two of you continued to bicker all the way down to the quad, where Bianca and the twins were standing there waiting for you. When you approached them, Bianca wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug. You laughed softly at the action. It was odd, your guys' relationship. She was Xavier’s ex yes, but before that you had all been friends. And that didn’t stop despite the conflict between the broken up couple. You had always trusted Bianca, and though it was a bit awkward at first, you remained close no matter the circumstances.

When you pulled away Bianca held you by the shoulders and smiled at you.

“He’s a dick who doesn’t know what’s good for him. You’re amazing and you’re so much more mature than him.”

You smiled at her, and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you, Bianca.”

“Guuuuuyyyyys, I’m hungrryyyyyyyyy.”

Your group all laughed at Isabella’s complaints. You all agreed to have the twins grab the food and then they’d meet you guys back at the table to eat. It was nice to laugh freely with your friends. A weight was lifted off your chest. When the twins returned you all dug into your food. You were all joking and bickering amongst yourselves. You almost forgot about your conflict with Xavier. Almost.

The thought of him still lingered in your brain. It stayed there through breakfast and while you were walking to class. You were so lost in conversation that you forgot that you had your first class with him. You remembered when you walked in the doorway and saw him sitting in his seat, the one next to him empty where you would usually be. You froze in your spot, your heart palpitating painfully. Isabella stopped next to you with a puzzled look.

“Why’d you stop in the middle of the- Oh.”

They cut themselves off when they saw where you were looking. He hadn’t noticed you yet, too enamored in his drawing he was working on. You looked up at your friend next to you, your eyes wide with panic. You didn’t know what to do.

“Hey hey hey, don’t cry please. I don’t do well with crying. Here, you’ll sit with me. I’ll be your new partner,” She was already guiding you to your new seat.

When you got there you kept your head low, afraid to look up and make eye contact with Xavier. You sat next to Isabella and they struck conversation with you easily until the teacher walked in. When you heard the footsteps walk in the room you instinctually looked up, and you wished you hadn’t. Your eyes drifted across the room to where Xavier sat, the seat next to him now occupied. The sight of him and his new partner made your stomach drop. It was Wednesday sitting next to him. Of course it was.

He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced over at you. When his eyes met yours and widened, you quickly hardened your gaze and looked away. You didn’t want him to see the hurt you still felt. Straightening your back you focused your attention on the lecture, you wouldn’t let him get to you.

___

The lecture felt like it went on forever, so when it was finally over you were extremely relieved. You and Isabella parted ways at the door, they would go to their next class and you would go to chemistry. With Xavier. Your chest tightened at the thought. You sped up your pace as you walked towards the class, hoping if you got there fast enough you could find any seat away from him. But the universe decided to give you a huge middle finger today. When you arrived at the class there were only 2 open seats. Right next to each other.

You sighed. You were too tired for this. Maybe you could just ignore him and he’d leave you alone. That is if he even wanted anything to do with you. You didn’t have to wait long to see his reaction. He walked in not long after you, his eyes darting between you and the chair next to you. You continued to look down at your paper, refusing to meet his eyes. You heard him audibly sigh before he dropped his bag and sat next to you. You could feel him burning holes into the side of your head, but you didn’t dare look over.

Class started and things were going smoothly. The class was mostly notes, so there was no need to talk to the boy next to you. That didn’t stop him from bothering you though. As you concentrated on the board ahead of you, you felt something land on your hand. Looking down, you saw a butterfly perched on the back of your hand. It was a dark gray, clearly one of Xavier's drawings. You felt your heart pick up at the thought of him trying to get your attention. Immediately, you shook your hand, and your head, slightly to clear the butterfly and your thoughts. Xavier sighed again and then looked back at the board.

—

After that there were no incidents. The day continued smoothly and by the end of it you were exhausted and ready to flop on your bed. You did just that when you arrived at your dorm. Throwing your bag to the ground, you ran and fell face first on the plush covers. Not 5 minutes into your silence, the door burst open. In came Isabella and Bianca, talking loudly before they saw you.

“Y/n,” Isabella called out. “What are you doing? We’re going down to Weathervane in like 10 minutes?”

You grumbled back, your words being incoherent. You didn’t want to get up. But you also wanted coffee.

Slowly you rolled off your bed and to the floor, and then looked towards your friends. Isabella looked confused, Bianca looked concerned. You reached your hands out towards them and pouted.

“Help please,” You wiggled your fingers at them.

They looked at each other and sighed before walking to you and pulling you to your feet. Then they dragged you out the door, leading you on the bus that was going to bring kids down to town. When you arrived in the cafe you practically ran for the counter. No one was there yet, but you knew the boy who worked here most days, Tyler. You guys had met at one of the festivals in town before his whole argument with Xavier. You had been pissed with him over what he did to Xavier, but after he apologized and explained himself you had become civil once again. Now you were more acquaintances than friends, but you loved the way he made your coffee so you were kind to him.

You dinged the bell on the counter obnoxiously while Isabella and Bianca made their way into the shop. You heard Tyler yell something from the back before he came into your view, clearly frustrated. You gave him a sickly sweet and innocent smile.

“Hi Tyler, did you miss me?”

“Oh so very much,” he smiled back at you. “The usual I assume? You want to put theirs on your order too?”

He pointed at your two friends behind you, who he had seen come in with you hundreds of times before. They had already sat down and were chatting idly.

“Yes please, I’m treating today,” You said, pulling out your wallet.

As you fished for the right amount of cash you heard Tyler speak again.

“What about his?”

Your head snapped up, your brows furrowed. You had been so focused on the money that you hadn’t heard the door open. When you glanced behind you, you saw the last person you wanted to see. Xavier.

“No, uh. He’s not with me- us today,” You tripped over your words, hands now shaking as you tried to hand the cash to the boy in front of you.

Tyler quickly took note of the way you trembled and how your eyes were watering. He quickly grew concerned. You two may not be close, but he cared enough to know he didn’t like seeing you this upset. He made eye contact with Bianca, who had been watching since Xavier walked in, and waved her over. Then he placed his hand over yours.

“Hey, Y/n,” He dipped his head trying to make eye contact with you. “Hey, why don’t you go sit down? Bianca or Isabella can help me okay?”

You just nodded slightly, feeling Bianca take your shoulder gently and guiding you to the table. Isabella was finishing the transaction with Tyler, both of them looking over at you with worry occasionally. You glanced around the shop in panic, not being able to find the boy you were so desperately avoiding. That was until he was standing directly in front of your table, just next to where Bianca sat.

“Y/n, can I- Can I talk to you, please?,” Xavier stumbled over his words.

Your friend tensed and got ready to get up and give him a piece of her mind, but your hand on her arm stopped her. Xavier saw you whisper something in the siren’s ear before she slid out of the booth, giving you room to slip out too. You made brief eye contact with your previous best friend, before turning on your heel and walking out the door.

You continued to walk until you were in the grass across the street from the cafe. You knew he was following you. Like a love sick puppy. You scoffed to yourself. When you decided you were far enough from the shop you stopped and waited for him to approach you. You felt him stop behind you, but you didn’t turn.

“Y/n, please would you look at me? Look, I know I messed up. I was a total dick and I’m so sorry. I just was so excited about Wednesday, I mean I really like her. I haven’t liked anyone this much since Bianca and I-,” He cut himself off when he noticed your arms wrapped around yourself, your shoulders shaking.

You still had your back to him so he couldn’t see the tears streaking your cheeks, but he knew you were crying. You never cried. And he made you cry. Oh shit. Why were you crying? He rushed forward and turned you gently. Grabbing your cheeks, he made you look up at him. Xavier’s thumbs brushed along your cheeks, concern filling his eyes.

“Please talk to me. I don’t think I can handle you being quiet anymore. You’re never quiet with me and these past couple of days I've been trying to give you space but it’s so hard. I miss you. I miss my best friend.”

He whispered the last part, resting his forehead on yours. You furrowed your brows and sniffled. Then you pushed him away, hitting his chest. You punched and pushed and hit and Xavier took it all because he knew he deserved it.

“You idiot,” You yelled at him. “I have supported you for years! I’ve been your best friend, no matter how much you’ve pissed me off. No matter what you have said to me. And you know why I did that? Because I love you, you moron. I have loved you since we were kids, and I haven’t done anything because I just want you to be happy. But whenever any other girl comes along, you throw yourself at her! You ignore me! I’m tired Xavier! I’m so tired.”

Your shoulders slumped forward and you sighed. Xavier was a few steps in front of you, shock written across his face. His eyes were watering, his cheeks flushed. You wiped your face and felt that you had been sobbing the entire rant. Xavier took a step forward and you took one back.

“You… love me?,” He asked, like he was afraid he would scare you off.

You shook your head and glared at the grass below you.

“Only since we were 8.”

“Y/n… I don't know what to say,” He started.

“Don’t say anything. Go back to your girlfriend and leave me alone. I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

As you turned to walk away, Xavier’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. His mind was racing, he was panicking. He couldn’t let you walk away. Not when he found out you loved him back and every stupid this he’s done in the past year was for nothing. So he panicked and said the first thing that came to mind.

“Wednesday is a lesbian. She likes Isabella.”

You froze. You tried to process the information the tall boy had just blurted but you couldn’t. Not fully. So you burst out an incredulous laugh and collapsed to the ground. Xavier wasn’t expecting it, and with his grip still tight on your wrist he was pulled down along with you. He landed half on top of you, his arms on either side of your head to keep him from crushing you. His long hair tickled your face and you scrunched your nose at the sensation. Then you realized the position you were in. You blushed, heat rushing to your face and looked everywhere but the boy on top of you.

Xavier on the other hand could only see you. He could only focus on your eyes, the freckles that dotted your skin, the way your lips pulled into that beautiful little frown. He gently reached down and ran his thumb across your eyebrows, trying to soothe the harsh lines there. Then he cupped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. What he did next made your heart completely start and restart in your chest.

Xavier had leaned down, pressing his lips to yours carefully. He pulled away quickly, not wanting to overstep. Before you could question him, he spoke:

“I thought you only saw me as a brother. That’s what Rowan and Ajax, my parents, everyone told me. They told me I couldn’t ruin our friendship. So like the moron I am, I listened. I pushed away my feelings for you and I went after other girls because I thought it was the only chance I had at staying in your life. Sure, I liked Bianca and Wednesday. Maybe I had a crush on them. But I wasn’t in love with them like I am with you. I am so sorry, Y/n. I never should have said what I did. If I could take it back I would. But because I can't, I'll spend my entire life making it up to you.”

You were in shock. What the fuck was he thinking:? He could just apologize and confess his love and everything would be fine? No. You smiled up at him and then you slapped him. Hard. His face turned with the impact. And then you grabbed his face and kissed him. Hard.

“You owe me so many things, the list is at least a mile long,” You said as you pulled back and then kissed where your hand had met his face. “But we have all the time in the world for you to complete that list.”

Xavier leaned down to kiss you again and then pulled away with a frown.

“That hurt,” He whined.

“You deserved it and you know it,” you kissed his cheek once more before gently pushing him off of you. “Now come on, we need to get Isabella a girlfriend. Maybe she’ll finally stop making me watch anime with her.”

___

Tags: @555stargirl555 @weasleylovers @wrenwastooshort @justanotherkpopstanlol @lovurryy @rainehatepage @ghostlycrystobalove @bambi-munson @hershey2813 @karslyn @nothingbeatsthebeautyofthemoon @parkersmyth @multistangirl07 @emilykolchivans

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x reader comfort #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader smut #xavier thorpe x reader angst #xavier thorpe angst #xavier thorpe smut #wednesday addams #wednesday show #wednesday

2K notes · View notes

cheesus-doodles · 4 months

Note

Yoo, it’s Winky Wink. Since your reader has always been the innocent to a fault type and very motherly, I wonder how tr boys will react if reader is the typical girl in shoujo manga? I am not talking about the protagonist of the shoujo manga, but those fan girls in the bg. This reader is very girly, she follow the trend, knows every hot boys at the school, attend sport gams to meet the star of the sport club and such. Although the toman or the tr boys are good looking themselves, but reader doesn’t see them as men or potential love interest, so she always gushing about how hot this sempai from class b is and such with them. Reader might be even drag them to clothing stores, so the boys can be the judge the outfit for her potential future dates. I also can see this reader complaining and whining on how her youth is wasted when this is the prime time to fall in love and such.

Y'know, that type of girl, lol.

the vote has spoken! i've watched exactly one (1) shoujo anime, and that was fruit basket - decided to write this as each boy on their own cause writing them as a whole group is getting too predictable...

Masterlist

‎‎

Mikey: Gets very annoyed and pissy whenever you act like that around him, and will look to eliminate the threat outright and as soon as possible. Don't get him wrong, Mikey likes that you put effort into what you wear and how you look, and would be more than happy to go with you to the store since being seen next to such a pretty princess is an ego booster whether he actually liked you that way or not. But he doesn't like in the slightest that you aren't doing it just for him. This boy simply can’t understand what’s so fantastic about anyone else but him, and absolutely will not stand for this disre spect - how dare you call another boy hot in front of him? How dare you fawn over some shit stain instead of focusing all your attention on pampering him? Starts off whining and trying to pull you away, insisting that you give him the affection he deserves and forbidding you from going to sport games, but when this doesn’t work is when the Toman President starts to get downright pissed. This delinquent couldn't be more bothered to learn who is popular or why you are shrieking about someone else, the moment they catch your attention is the moment they are going down. Sports stars, older students, really don't matter, Mikey will find them and he will beat the shit out of every single one of them the next time he catches them around. He wouldn’t care if there is an audience or not, or whether you are part of the eyes watching, this blond boy makes sure that he puts all these threats out for good by breaking their noses and maybe an arm or a leg. Not going to be so hot if they can barely stand. Grumpily returns for cuddles in your lap once he’s done.

ㅤ

Draken: Much more lenient with gossip than Mikey will ever be, but will not hesitate to punish any rule-breaking on his watch, be it you or the poor student getting dragged into your mess. This boy thinks it probably just a phase, since the brothel girls back home do the same thing albeit with celebrities rather than school boys, and that you will get over it soon, so Draken will be more than happy to indulge you in your complaining and whining like he does for his adoptive family. Lets you rant to him about the latest trends and all the guys you think are hot shots (though be prepared for this blond boy to interject with his own thoughts about the subject and how he could easily beat them all). Enjoys going shopping with you, and will give you his opinion on whether the outfit was appropriate or not, but this boy is already ready to never let you take even a step closer to those disgusting boys. And will absolutely not even discuss the mere idea of you dating them *shudders*. If the Toman Vice Captain hasn’t already had them dragged away and threatened by the rest of the Toman members, Draken will simply redirect you every time you try to go and meet/see one of those “hot boys”. Doesn’t like to have to beat people up in your presence, so he’ll turn you around when you try to make your way to a sports game or another classroom, but if you persist, this boy has no issue simply picking you up, tucking you under his elbow and walk off and out of your school. Plops you onto his motorbike and takes you somewhere else to distract you.

ㅤ

Mitsuya: Understands everything that you are saying and where you are coming from, but already dreading the day that his younger sisters become interested in boys (if ever). Because he already feels horrid that you have reached that phase, can’t imagine having to deal with it another two times, but Mitsuya would never tell you that. This boy is generally pretty level headed and doesn’t like to fight without very good reason, so rest assured that he will not be beating your schoolmates right and left if they don’t give him any excuse to do so. More likely to discourage you from pursuing boys at your school by getting the best gossip scoops about them and letting you in on all the reasons you should stay away from boys like them. And I don’t doubt that he would be against starting those nasty rumors himself either - he didn’t say that he wouldn��t play dirty. At least the one part he really enjoys is going clothes shopping with you, and out of all the Toman founders, you just know the Second Division Captain has the best fashion sense and will never lead you astray. Would even design and make the clothes himself if you let him, because it would be a good excuse to close to him and too busy to attend sport games and all. Of course you will have to spend all your free time with the crafting club and going fabric shopping with Mitsuya, you want your outfits to turn out perfect, don’t you?

ㅤ

Baji: Beats them at their own game. You want a sports star? Guess he’s joining the sport clubs just to show you he can do way better than any other student in the school. Baji doesn’t attend the same school as you? Doesn’t matter either, by hook or by crook, he’ll join your school’s club anyway. Will show you that he is the superior athlete once and for all, and that your so-called hot boys aren’t shit next to him. This boy will even happily humiliate the entire club in the process, bragging that he doesn’t even need training to sweep the floor with them (what he doesn’t tell you is that he secretly practices by himself, but eh). The only thing he won’t be able to beat them at is academics, but he is definitely not below sabotaging the others so that they do worse than him, be it by breaking their fingers so they can’t write, or something more mundane like putting their ‘confiscated’ homework through the toilet while they watch. Doesn’t want to risk losing you over something as petty as him throwing hands with your schoolmates or your disgustingly precious ‘senpais’, so Baji is limited to working around the system. That is, as long as you don’t seem to be getting a tad too close for comfort to any one of them, cause in that case all bets are off. Would try to prevent this by clinging to you as much as possible, but even that has its limits. Baji would happily tag along and clothes shop with you regardless, and will weigh in on what he thinks, though take note that he does not exactly have the best fashion sense - will absolutely start panicking and ask his mom for tips and what the latest fashion trend is before going out with you.

ㅤ

Kazutora: Starts crying immediately the moment you start talking about anyone but him (and well, he makes an exception for the rest of the Toman founders as well he supposes). Straight up just tears up and accuses you of cheating on him, clings to you and refuses to let go until you apologize - doesn’t matter if you are in the middle of class or in the middle of the corridor. Kazutora has an iron grip and strength way beyond what you will ever have, and if this boy has his arms around you, you aren’t going anywhere. If he thinks that the situation was getting worse and out of his control, i.e. you proclaim that you have a crush on so and so sport athlete, he will refuse to let you go to school at all because all those “evil fucks” brainwashing you are there. Would even purposely get you into trouble with your teachers and the school by hiding your homework from you, or messing your classroom up and getting it blamed on you. Which would of course lead to you opting to hang out with him instead, preferably somewhere that was empty of other people so that nothing can steal your attention away from him. Nothing would make him happier than being invited to go shopping with you, but much like Baji, this boy doesn’t exactly have any fashion sense. Will probably insist that the leopard print pattern he favors looks good on you and nothing else, so be prepared to make your own decisions. No doubt Kazutora will go behind your back and beat the living shit out of any guy he thinks is a bit too attractive once his jealousy reaches boiling point, making sure that he breaks whatever is necessary to make them less attractive.

ㅤ

Pah-chin: Doesn’t mean to, but this boy will accidentally give you all the worst advice known to mankind when you do end up whining about wasting your youth. Pah is very unsure about what you talk about or why you want to go and see other students, but this boy doesn’t stop you from doing so as long as he gets to come along. This boy is pretty clueless to say the least, and will resort to asking Peh what he should do when you tell him that your youth was fleeting. Does that mean that you were sick and dying? Oh, okay it means that you are in love - which is a big no no even in Pah’s books. Fortunately with how fierce Pah naturally looks without even trying, no doubt any popular guys are already keeping a wide circle from you whenever he is around. Plus the advice he gives you just scares them away even more, because this boy has no idea what he is doing without Peh there. And you absolutely would not be able to get Pah to leave you alone, this Third Division Captain will attend every single sports game just to make sure that you weren’t trying anything funny. Also another Toman founder that doesn’t have any fashion sense whatsoever, so I would hold off asking for advice on your outfits as well, but upside is that he will absolutely pay for your outfits if you let him.

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corazondebeskar-reads · 3 months

Text

ain't no rest for the wicked - chapter four

ain't no rest for the wicked series

four: no telling what tomorrow holds

series masterlist | prev chapter | final chapter

Tess Servopoulos x f!reader x Joel Miller

words: 5.9k

summary: Joel and Tess pay you surprise visits after work.

warnings: dark-ish Joel and Tess, smuggler!Joel, smuggler!Tess, boston QZ, QZ life, poorly negotiated d/s-style dynamics, poor communication, enthusiastic consent, oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v, degradation, stalking, threesome, light rope bondage, light choking with a belt, paddling, punishment, aftercare, strap-on, anal sex, rimming, light angst, orgasm denial, hurt/comfort, light description of a wound, flashbacks to outbreak day (reader), double penetration

This is the penultimate chapter.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You don’t get any warning the next time. It’s not more than a week later, and when you step out into the dying sun, Joel’s waiting outside your office building.

You’re pissed, because when he croons, “Where you goin’, sunflower?” from behind you, your heart shoots about sixty feet into the sky.

“Cheese and fucking Christ, Joel!” You’re clutching your chest, but you can’t even pretend to be mad for more than a minute.

Not the way he’s smirking, something bright behind his gorgeous eyes. He looks fucking beautiful like this, bathed in amber, dark coat against the snow.

“I can just leave by myself,” he says.

But you break and smile. Goddamnit. It isn’t just your cunt that’s happy to see him.

Though it very much is. You’re a little concerned about icicles forming, the way you’re abruptly dripping at the prospect of an evening with them.

He can read it all over you. Of course he can. He shakes his head and pushes away from the wall, not bothering to swallow down the smug curl of his lips.

“They been treatin’ you alright?” He asks as you make the walk across town.

“Who, work? Yeah, I mean. A job’s a job.” You shrug.

He’s looking at you like he thinks he’s some kinda human lie detector.

“Nobody’s bothering me, I promise,” you say, rolling your eyes.

His jaw ticks. You don’t realize how close he’s leaned until he’s murmuring into your ear. “Watch the attitude, little girl.”

You swallow hard. He leans back, but you’re acutely aware now, that he’s stayed close the whole time. There’s not five feet between you as you scramble to follow. No, he’s been near enough that your shoulders occasionally brush.

Thinking about it makes your stomach feel a lot like your very first (and only) cellphone. It had slipped from your pocket into the lake up north when you crossed from the dock to the little motorboat, and you just watched as it sank slowly. By the time you thrust your hand below the surface to save it, it was too late, and the water you displaced pushed it deeper into the darkness.

Your daddy had been mad beyond words, not that it stopped him from lecturing, and while you sat there peering over the edge, it lit up with a call from your best friend, even underwater. It rang over and over and over until your dad started the boat, and the motor buried it in a puff of kicked-up sand.

She had been calling from back home, where you’d be in about six hours. You figured you’d stop by her dorm and see what her latest fuckboy from the neighboring floor had done now.

By the time your dad pulled up to campus, though, the world was half over. He didn’t let you out of the car, your brother holding you back while your daddy peeled away from the curb and the bodies.

He was gone by midnight.

When you blink back to the grimy streets of Boston, you can’t remember what you were thinking about before. Joel’s still looking at you, brow furrowed.

“Where’d you go?” he says.

“Oh, uh. I dunno. Just got lost in my head,” you try to smile and shrug. Silly you, as always, drifting off in the clouds.

He doesn’t buy it, but he doesn’t push it.

When you get to the apartment, you’re startled to find Tess in an apron. As far as you know, Joel’s been the only one cooking when you came over. She spares you a kiss before she turns back to chopping carrots.

You kind of want to drop to your knees right there in the kitchen, watching her tuck back a loose strand of hair while brandishing a knife.

There might be something deeply unwell about you, you suspect. But it seems like the kind of thought that hampers your quality of life, so you scrunch it up and toss it in your mental waste bin. It bounces off the rim.

Damn. You can’t even make a basket in your own mind.

Joel smirks at the way you already look a little dazed. “Don’t worry,” he murmurs in your ear. His thumbs hook into the belt loops at the front of your jeans, tugging you back so you can feel him press against your ass. “We’re gonna have dessert first tonight.”

Tess snorts. “Been workin’ on that one all day?”

“Shut up, like you didn’t tell me to go pick up something sweet.”

You think maybe you’re going to die from secondhand embarrassment. “Can’t believe I used to be scared of you guys,” you say, foolishly, “you’re just a couple of dorks.”

Tess shakes her head, lip twitching into a smirk. “Baby, you just going to let her disrespect you like that?”

Oh, shit. If you weren’t wet already, well.

“Do whatever you want with her while I finish this up,” she says to Joel, meeting his eyes over your head.

Her words are anesthesia. Your whole brain seems to fuck right off, and it’s like you’ve been a mermaid turned human, the way your legs don’t seem to work anymore.

He lets go and steps around before throwing you over his shoulder, taking the opportunity to slap your ass.

“M’sorry,” you say, clawing at the back of his shirt for stability. Not that you really think he’d drop you, but all in all, you’re a little off-kilter right now.

“You will be,” he says.

It should scare you, you think. Despite your joke, outside of this apartment, these are two terrifying individuals. Together? Well, your initial tornado siren instinct wasn’t far off.

Instead, you moan.

He shakes his head. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“She said whatever you want.” You don’t have a clue where the boldness is coming from, but you think you like where it’s going.

“You got a mouth on you today. First thing is gonna be findin’ a better use for it.”

“Fuck,” you whisper.

He swings you down from his shoulder, and you sink straight down to your knees.

“Open,” he says, belt buckle jangling as he tugs it from the loops.

You open your mouth wide and stick your tongue out, but he doesn’t give you his cock yet. He grabs your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks, and spits onto your waiting tongue.

You startle back a little but moan and swallow it, only for his hand to fly out and slap you.

“I didn’t say you could swallow that,” he growls.

“Sorry, sir,” you say, eyes wide and sorrowful.

He leans back down and spits again. You hold still, and he gives you a crooked grin. “Attagirl. Hold that for a minute.”

You whine until he brings the belt around your neck, sliding it through the hoop on the buckle and pulling it snugly around your neck. It’s not too tight, and the sight of the loose end wrapped around his fist almost does you in.

“Yeah, you like that,” he says, shaking his head. He leaves you waiting while he pulls out his cock.

You whimper when you see it, but he tugs on the belt to abort the sound and rests his cock on your tongue, thrusting so shallow that he’s barely inside the cavern of your mouth.

When it’s nice and coated with your saliva and his own, he pulls out and slaps it across your face.

The moan you let out would be humiliating if you had it in you to care. But you don’t, only concerned with getting his cock back in your mouth.

You give him your best pleading eyes, wide and sad, with your mouth still open.

“Aw,” he coos, dry and mocking, “are you not getting what you want?”

You shake your head.

“Brats don’t.” He rubs the leaking head of his cock over your upper lip, smearing precum in his wake.

You move instinctually to lick it, but he pinches your tongue between two unforgiving fingers.

“I don’t think so. You’re just going to sit still and be good. And quiet."

If you thought Tess’s words made your mind go blank earlier, then this made you think nothing. Literally nothing. The weight of his belt around your neck, the smell of him on your lip, and the rigidity of his commands are all you can handle. Like the shutdown of your old, chunky computer, your brain whirrs to a stop.

He pulls you forward by the belt, cutting off your air and leaving no room for resistance. Not that you’d have even dreamt of it. He slides in farther this time, the head just grazing against the back of your throat.

You keep your eyes and mouth open wide. The pressure on your throat eases up, not entirely, but enough to allow you air. He begins to gently thrust in and out, reaching deeper and deeper.

You whine, jaw aching for more.

He smirks. “What? You don’t like me usin’ your mouth to jerk off?”

Your cunt clenches, with nothing, nothing to comfort it. It’s strong enough that your head tips back a little, a raggedy gasp slipping around him.

“Did you just almost cum?” he asks, tugging a little on the belt.

“Uh-huh,” you try to say.

He whistles. “Damn. Don’t you dare, though.”

Easier said than done, but you manage to hold back. His cock sent sparks to your clit as he masturbated with your throat.

The door clicks softly shut as Tess comes in, apron abandoned in place of a shit-eating grin. “Havin’ fun, baby?” she asks Joel, wrapping her arms around his waist and taking in the scene.

“Y’should have a go, use her tongue,” he says. “Fuckin’ slut almost came from bein’ used as a cocksleeve.”

You moan and try to grab his thighs, but he just steps back, pulling his cock away. The whine you make is soaked with desperation and hurt feelings.

“Why don’t you tie her up, and I’ll have a turn,” Tess says. She comes close to you, a hand in your hair to tip your head back. “Same rules, sunflower. You just stay still and be good.”

You can’t do much more than blink up at her as Joel crouches behind you and tugs your arms back, binding your wrists together deftly. He moves to help Tess strip down, his movements gentle and devout. Her neatly folded clothes get set on the dresser, and he sits on the side of the bed to watch, cock drooling over his fist.

She makes use of your mouth, rubbing her cunt over your tongue. You’ve stretched it out as much as you can and your chest aches with the need to lick, to taste, to have anything more than they’re allowing. But the ache to be good for them is deeper and undeniable.

She grinds until her clit is pushed against you and rides your steady tongue until she cums. You don’t dare swallow what’s left in your mouth, remembering the scolding you got earlier.

“Good girl,” she croons, stroking your cheek. She steps back, and you jerk a little with the intense throb that seems to rattle your bones. You’re so close, and you know what’s about to happen.

You whine and give Joel sad eyes again, begging for mercy. He doesn’t grant it, but he does rub his dick through Tess’s slick where it sits on your tongue, groaning at the warmth and ease as his cock slides smoothly into your throat, pushing the taste of her with it.

Each thrust makes you whimper and plead, not that he can technically understand you, but the grin on his face makes you think he does perfectly.

“Damn, I wasn’t gonna let ya, but makin’ you cum untouched like this…” he muses out loud.

You hold back the plea, not wanting to dissuade him.

He cups your cheek, stroking his thumb up and down. “Nah.”

Your eyes are wide again, unable to stop the pout that turns your lips down around his cock.

“None o’ that,” he scolds, using his hand on your face to fuck into you. “You mouthed off. You can wait to cum on our cocks.”

You can’t help the way your head snaps to the side to look at Tess, where she’s leisurely sprawled on the bed. His next thrust was already in motion, and his cock jabs you below the ear.

He growls and yanks your face back to him, pushing inside while pulling on the belt. Your clit pulses with the beat of your heart, or maybe the beat of his cock. As if they’re any different right now.

“Yeah, you heard me,” he says. “And now that I think about it…” he trails off to look at Tess. Out of the corner of her eye, you can see a responding grin creep across her face.

She gets up from the bed and comes over to you. “Let me have another go, and you get it all out for me, baby,” she says to Joel.

He pulls out immediately, and you can hear him rustling through a drawer while she rides your tongue to a second orgasm.

“Look how sweet you’re being,” she says, bending to kiss your forehead. The praise settles somewhere in your ribs, a warm, wriggling thing.

The cock he’s picked out is smaller than the one he took last time and smaller than his own, but not by much. If you weren’t already drooling, saliva dripping down onto your tits and their carpet, you would be now.

She slips the harness on with practiced fingers, vibrator tucked snugly inside her, though she doesn’t turn it on yet. When she sets the plastic on your waiting tongue, you gasp, eyes fluttering shut.

Instead of fucking your face with it, she gives a jerk of her head to Joel. He comes around behind you and puts a hand on either side of your face, fucking your head back and forth on the cock.

“That’s it, baby,” she moans, reaching out to caress him. He presses his lips to her hand, and she pulls him in for a kiss. He doesn’t miss a beat the whole time, still using you as a fleshlight for her strap.

It’s not his roughness that brings tears to your eyes, though, or jealousy. He’s not expecting it when you break away, his firm hands guiding more than forcing.

“Please,” you beg. “Please let me touch you.” You squirm in the ropes, knocking a tear down your cheek. “Please fuck me, please something.”

Tess wipes the tear away. “Think she’s had enough?”

Joel grunts his agreement, grabbing you by the arms to help you to your feet. He hands a bottle of lube to Tess, who situates herself on the bed, one hand slickening up the cock.

He stands behind you and holds your jaw in one hand, so you watch her, not that you’d be looking anywhere else. His other hand slides down to your cunt, and he chuckles. “Y’ain’t even gonna need it,” he tells her. He pushes two fingers in with little struggle and starts working you open for her.

You writhe. It’s almost too much; it hurts a little. Somehow, you’re overstimulated, and this is the first time all day that anyone has actually touched you.

“I know,” he murmurs. “You’ve been so good. Let us both get in ya, and I’ll let you cum.”

He yanks his hand away, and you nearly sob. He unties your wrists and pulls his belt from your neck. “Go on,” he says, slapping your ass.

Tess grins at you as you climb up. She’s turned on the vibrator on her end and beckons you with open arms to crawl to her. You lean down, and she tugs you in for a kiss, her hands sliding to your hips to guide you down onto her strap.

“Can’t believe I haven’t fucked you yet,” she murmurs between kissing and nipping at your lips.

Your eyes roll back as you slide down, your pelvis angled just right so that when she bottoms out, you can grind your clit against her bush. She smirks but digs her fingers into your hips to stop you.

“Hold still and wait just a little bit longer,” she says.

Once you’re settled, Joel pushes you down by the shoulder to lay against Tess. It leaves you only partially seated, but you nuzzle into the nape of her neck, pressing kisses where you can reach.

It’s not a shock when his slicked-up fingers breach your asshole. You kind of assumed when he said they’d both be fucking you. He didn’t ask if you’ve done this before, though. He doesn’t really need to ask anymore.

You’re a little embarrassed that he’s got you pegged correctly as a slut. Before you came to Boston, you had fucked your way through the hard days, desperate to feel, well, anything.

But here, it had been harder. You made a point not to get to know anyone; it didn’t seem wise after everything fell apart before.

Then again, you think, they’re both experienced enough that they can hardly judge you for it.

You stop really thinking after that as Tess wraps her arms around you, gently thrusting up as Joel’s thick fingers work you open.

“Doing okay, sunflower?” she says.

You intend to respond, but Joel chooses that moment to stuff a second finger in you, and all that comes out is a broken, starving moan.

“Attagirl,” he says, rubbing his other hand over the dip of your spine.

When he finally deems you ready, he wastes no time.

“Oh god,” you pant as he pushes in with a strong, smooth stroke. “Oh fuck.”

They don’t really wait for you to get acclimated, not that you’re complaining. The back-and-forth rhythm is soothing, but you’re trembling, trying to keep it together.

True to his word, Joel slides his hand around and hovers his finger over your clit. “Whenever you’re ready,” he says. Blunt teeth nip at your neck as he presses firmly down, their thrusts jostling you and doing the work for him.

You cum immediately. It’s not a choice. You’d been barely holding on, and once he finally touches you, it’s like you break open. Vaguely, you’re aware of how loud you’re being, but he’s holding you tight and unrelenting. They both still and let you shake apart on their cocks, Joel’s dark chuckle against your neck as you fuck yourself through it.

You don’t think you fully come back to yourself the whole time they fuck you. You’re floating somewhere vaguely in the middle of the throng of bodies, lightheaded. Every pore feels electrified, each brush of their skin against yours drawing a gasp or cry. You know you cum again. Maybe you don’t ever really stop.

An endless wave of aftershocks, some orgasms in their own right, roll over you, and you just take it. Take them. Let them move and pinch and rub your body; just a soft vessel to soak up their attention.

When they’ve exhausted themselves and you, Joel spilling deep inside, he tugs you to the side to let Tess up. He lays behind you and tugs the sheet up as the sweat cools and leaves you shivering. His warm body presses against yours, an arm loose over your waist.

When Tess goes to leave the room, he sits up, but she’s not having it. “It’s my stew. Don’t even think about it.”

He grumbles, something you don’t catch as you fall asleep.

It feels like only a moment has passed when he shakes you awake. “Gotta sit up and eat somethin’,” he says. It’s gruff, as he always is, but there’s something that stirs you to seek him out. Instead of sitting up properly, you turn over to snuggle against his chest.

He huffs, shaking his head, but it doesn’t stop him from holding your head to him. He presses a kiss atop it before nudging you to sit up.

You can’t help the small, stupid smile that lingers. You’re too well-fucked, the pleasure still loosening your muscles and inhibitions.

Tess pushes a thick bowl of stew into your hands. You’re irritated at your own surprise. Why did you ever think it was going to be some normal canned Campbell’s shit? You literally saw her chopping fresh carrots.

It’s full of rice and tender meat, tomatoes, onion, and herbs. More than you can identify, but it’s so rich and hearty that you think you could die happy. All your senses are satisfied, and your stomach is full.

“Kill me now,” you sigh, leaning back against the pillows.

Joel and Tess exchange a look over you, but you don’t give a damn.

“Is something wrong?” she says.

“No,” you say, a soft smile settling as you close your eyes and nestle into their bed.

Joel shrugs, and they make the wise choice to ignore you while they finish eating. He wins the argument about who does the dishes, and you excuse yourself to the bathroom to clean yourself up while he handles them.

You only try to argue once against them walking you home. You’re pretty sure everyone is aware of how half-hearted it is.

Tess jumpscares you a couple of weeks later. Well, nearly. You’ve been on high alert since the Surprise Joel Incident, but your heart gets lodged in your throat at the sight of her.

It’s so incongruous that you stand there for a moment, just blinking stupidly, hand shielding your eyes from where the sun bounces off the freshly frozen snow.

“Hey, sunflower,” she says, and kisses your cheek, leaving you flushing hot enough to melt the drifts in your path.

“Hi,” you squeak.

She doesn’t hold your hand on the walk, but she sticks close and guides you through throngs of people with a palm burning at the dip of your spine.

When you let slip your worry—not that you aren’t just as happy to see her, but that the change makes you paranoid—she fesses up to Joel’s current predicament.

She warns you, this time. “I promise it won’t be like then. I’m not gonna put you in that position again.”

You’re comforted a little, but it’s still an upsetting prospect. You don’t want to see him get punished. And she won’t tell you what he did, but she does tell you she knows you’re going to understand her point.

“Lay down over the bed next to him, sunflower, just like that.”

You obey, quietly settling your top half on the mattress beside him. He keeps his face buried in the duvet while you squirm around, trying to figure out what to do with your arms.

His are bound behind him. Should you mimic it? You tuck them under you, lay them by your sides, and clutch at the sheets above your head. Tess comes in the room and snorts at your fidgeting.

“Want some help with that?” She’s holding another length of rope, and you know it’s not a question.

“What’re you doin’ to her, Tess?” Joel grumbles, finally lifting his head. He doesn’t look at you, only at her.

Her hand cracks against his thigh before you realize she’s even moved close enough. “You wanna try that again?”

“Sorry, ma’am,” he mumbles, hiding back in the blanket.

“I can do whatever I want with her, right? She’s yours, and you’re mine. You know what that means, sunflower?”

You’re suddenly a little jealous of grapes, as you try to respond but only manage a squeaky whimper. Under the focus of the sun, they get to shrivel up and hide. Instead, you automatically turn to face her.

“Well?” She prompts, but she doesn’t wait for you to respond before tugging your arms behind your back and threading the rope around.

“It means I’m yours, too, ma’am.”

At your words, Joel is finally, finally looking at you, but unlike Tess, his attention scalds.

“That’s right.” She tugs at the rope to check the fit, and when she’s satisfied, she crouches down and spreads your cunt wide open.

You jerk a little as her cold fingers swipe between your folds. “She’s wet already, baby.”

You’re burning, one step closer to your new life dream of being a raisin, when you hear what is unmistakably Tess sucking her fingers clean of you. You moan and finally turn your head to seek out Joel.

He’s fuckin' sick and tired of you seeing him like this. But there’s a good part of him that knows he brought it on himself. If she thinks humiliating him in front of you is going to work, she’s probably right.

So far, though, you don’t seem to have lost any respect for him. When he finds your eyes, they’re soft and pleading. You don’t need to say a word; he knows you’re seeking the grasp of his firm hand.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he says.

You smile, but you don’t get to respond, distracted as Tess fists her hand in Joel’s hair and yanks back.

“You wanna tell her why you’re here like this instead of fucking her tight little cunt?”

Joel does not, but he’s not stupid. It wasn’t really a choice.

Tess tugs, sharp pain blossoming across his scalp, so he has to face you.

“I made a reckless decision.”

“And?” She prompts.

“And I nearly got shot.”

You suck in a breath but don’t look away. He, however, does—still facing you but eyes looking anywhere but.

“Nearly,” Tess scoffs. She tugs him to roll a little bit, and you see the bandage on his side, stained like rust.

“It grazed me. That’s nearly.”

She nudges him back into position but doesn’t let him turn away from you.

“Now you both get to see what happens when you do careless shit, baby. Don’t look away.” She pauses for a moment, taking something out of a dresser drawer. “And Joel?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Count for me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He wants to close his eyes to brace for the hit, but you’re looking a little nervous. “S’ok, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “I can take it.”

But when Tess swings the paddle down, it’s on you. They’ve never used it with you, you’re not any kind of prepared for the broad, heavy stroke. You cry out, something akin to a yelp and a gasp, jerking forward into the mattress.

“No,” Joel snarls, wriggling against the ropes.

Tess clicks her tongue. “Not what you’re supposed to be saying, baby. Let’s start over.”

You’re slightly more prepared when she hits you again. It’s not any softer but a little easier to bear.

“One,” he bites out.

She catches you by the hair when you subconsciously press your face into the bed. “You keep looking right at him, sunflower. He needs to see.”

He looks at you, brows cinched and eyes wide. His lips part, but the words don’t come out.

You nod, a small duck of your chin, and he closes his eyes for just a moment.

When he opens them, they’re lined with pain, his aching muscles taut as he grapples with guilt. He returns the nod.

She doesn’t go easy on you. No, you get exactly the punishment Joel would have gotten. By the time you’ve taken 25 (or, well, 26), you’re sobbing softly, squirming to try to alleviate the burn.

“See, baby?” Tess says, setting the paddle down and running her fingers over your hot, aching skin. “This is what happens when you’re reckless. Someone gets hurt.”

Of course. No lesson in the world could make Joel more careful with himself for his own sake.

She cuts his ropes first, and he’s on you immediately, tugging the knot so you’re freed and pulling you into his lap.

He holds you against him. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs as you sob into his chest. “I’m so sorry.” He lets you cling to him while you cry, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back. He steadies you in a way you can’t explain. So does Tess.

It takes you a long time to recognize that feeling as safety.

At some point, Tess hands him something out of your line of sight. He reaches around you to unscrew the lid from the tub, and you jolt when his fingers move to the raw skin on your ass, but whatever he rubs on it instantly cools the burn.

You let out a sigh, leaning lax against him.

“You okay?” Tess murmurs, a hand on your shoulder.

You blink up at her and nod. “M’okay.” You crane your neck to kiss her hand, and she smiles.

Her other hand threads into Joel’s hair, gently this time. She gives him a kiss there. “Learn your lesson?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, barely louder than a whisper, voice like a knife on toast.

“Good. You were both so good.”

It’s the final string for you, the snap of the last tether. You mumble what you think is a thank you, but it comes out undecipherable. She gets the idea anyway.

Everything is warm and heady, your limbs like silicone, but your mind like a sieve. You’re wet enough that Joel can feel the heat where your bare cunt lays across his bare lap.

He dips a finger in and strokes gently through your folds. “Gonna make you feel better,” he says, laying you down on the duvet. You keen, fingers reaching for him, but Tess catches them and kisses you, kneeling beside you on the mattress.

“Hang on,” she says as Joel gets to his knees on the carpet. “Lay down,” she tells him, gesturing to where he’s frozen.

He obeys, and she tugs you forward to the edge of the bed.

“Sit on his face, sunflower,” she says.

Joel groans and reaches his hands up to help you down, but you hesitate.

“I—” you start, but she sees right through you.

“If you haven’t figured it out by now, he likes eating pussy.”

“Fuckin' love it,” Joel says, fist clenching around his cock while he waits.

“I don’t wanna be ungrateful,” you say to the wall behind him.

“You wanna get fucked?” she says.

You nod.

“You can ride him first if you want. Or you can start on his face, and then we’ll switch.”

“No,” Joel says, and you both look at him.

“Get down here and give me your cunt, now.”

You look at Tess, and she shrugs.

Knowing you’ll still get his cock makes you care a lot less what order it comes in—you snort out loud at the pun—so you do as you’re told. He settles you down and doesn’t wait for Tess; he just starts licking you—almost too gently.

You don’t complain. It feels good, and you think he’s still apologizing.

Once Tess helps herself to his cock, she reaches for you and takes your face in the cradle of her palms, licking into your mouth.

It’s all slow and luxurious. Dangerously so. You and Tess are content to make out while she rides him, a gentle cant to her hips, and he holds you open with both hands to eat you out. He’s careful to avoid the irritated skin on your ass, prying at the inside of your thighs instead.

You don’t know how many times he takes you apart on his tongue, but when it crosses the line between just enough and a little too much, Tess lifts off his aching cock and taps you in to switch.

As nice as his mouth was, sinking down on his cock is fucking divine. Life changing. You could start a church.

Well, not quite, but anyway. The point is your cunt had been painfully empty, and now that it’s stuffed full, you think you might cry.

Instead, you go back to making out with Tess and groping her tits.

She lets him cum when she does, after you’ve both had your fill. She holds you down on him and rubs your clit so you all share an orgasm.

She stands up on trembling legs and tugs you to do the same, even though you really want to just collapse on the floor.

Joel’s moved to the bed when you come out of the bathroom, dozing in the slice of streetlight from the window. Tess is nowhere to be seen. You’re still feeling a little fuzzy and dazed, but you take your cue and slip out of the bedroom to get your things.

“Hey,” Tess’s voice cuts through your haze.

You stop where you stand, bag over one shoulder, leaning against the door with one boot tugged just past the toes.

“Do me a favor? Stay here tonight,” she says.

“What?” Your heart stutters. It’s never been an option before.

“Stay. I know I was harsh on ya. Both of ya.”

“I’m fine,” you lie. Your body betrays you, as always. Fuckin’ narc. Your hands are shaking and it rattles the zipper of your boot like an SOS.

She steps closer and cups your face in one hand.

Your eyes flutter shut, leaning into the warmth of her calloused palm.

“C’mon, sunflower. Let me look out for you. Please.”

“Okay,” you whisper, pressing your lips to her hand.

She pulls you in, and when her lips meet yours, you moan softly. It’s less from your cunt than from your aching chest. She pulls you close, tucking your head to her shoulder, and you snuggle in, arms tucked up around her back.

It ends all too soon.

“Be good and go cuddle up to him, alright? Keep my spot warm,” Tess says, patting your cheek.

You nod, brain fuzzed over with the siren song of sleep.

Joel startles when you slip back into the room.

“Is this okay?” you say.

He blinks up at you with sore eyes and nods, peeling back the duvet for you.

You strip down. No one had said to, but you don’t feel right being clothed when he isn’t.

When you’re pressed against his warm body, he wraps an arm around you, and you sigh in tandem.

When you wake, the room is silent save for the light breaths of your companions. Moonlight refracts off the fresh banks of snow and scatters through the blinds. The city holds its breath and waits for the sun.

You lie as quiet as the streets. At some point, despite her quip about warming her spot, Tess slipped into the bed behind Joel. Her arm is snug around his waist in the way that his is around yours.

The moment is not lost on you. These two predators in symbiosis, lax and peaceful. You’re ever the ensnared dinner guest. Their places here are natural, and you… you’re scared. Scared of the way your heart is fighting to escape its cage and lay itself on their plates.

You either have to let it, or you have to run.

Joel wakes when you try to extract yourself from the bed, but he relaxes his grasp when you whisper something about the bathroom. He kisses the nape of your neck and lets you free. It’s not a lie, really. You do use their bathroom, and then you turn the light off and wait until you think he’s fully asleep again before you slip out.

It’s a longer trek home, what with having to sneak around. You’ve never been out past curfew before, and you really, really do not want to know what lockup is like.

But you don’t see much of FEDRA, and before long, you’re nearly outside your apartment building.

It wasn’t FEDRA you should have been looking out for, though.

next chapter

*title from "Duality" by Bayside

pls feel free to tell me how you feel 😬

#tess x joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel x tess #joel x reader #joel miller x reader x tess servopoulos #tess servopolous x joel miller #joel miller x tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x f!reader #tess servopoulos x you #tess servopoulos x reader #tess x reader #the last of us fic #the last of us smut #fic: ain't no rest for the wicked

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themainreactor · 5 months

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"I think I love you, but I can't bear to use you and then just go away."

In which, Shoto is not sure that he loves you and can't help but feel guilty when he plans to marry you. He feels like he's just using you to anger his father for the stupid things he's done in the past and he's sure that you're just too kind for that.

You were a quirkless girl dating a strong boy.

However, you were kind and hardworking, an enjoyable person to be around.

Somehow, you caught the attention of not just any person, but a future hero.

You were the bare minimum. Yet, somehow he wanted to be around you as much as he could.

His mother says that it's love, but he's not sure.

It wasn't like the two of you were even sleeping together so it couldn't be anything like lust right? You and Shoto just decided that dating was an option and that it could be a good idea.

So you could say that he's been trying to do this the right way, trying to make sure that you stay with him. Since you were such a gentle person, it was easy to navigate the relationship.

Logically speaking, there was no point in him leaving you. The two of you didn't fight, and you had to be one of the sweetest people he's ever met before.

Unfortunately there was this... One problem, something that made him want to propose to you on a whim.

That one problem. That stubborn, stupid, annoying, absolutely anger inducing problem.

His father.

He disapproved of you greatly and oh how Shoto wished from time to time that his father would just croak and die.

It angers him knowing that his father will still try and control his life even when he becomes an adult. He knows that his father has changed, and he's grateful, he's forgiving him as much as he can.

But why did he have to ask about you?

How did he even know about you? He was sure he hadn't been vocal about you to anyone in his family besides his mother. How did he find out that you were quirkless? How did he find out you weren't even in UA? How did he find out any of that crap?!

They had an argument and he was pissed, so what better way to revel in revenge than to use his father's credit card to pay for your engagement ring?

... Maybe that was too far... Like 'way outta pocket' too far.

After all, that would mean that the ring wasn't really bought with love... It was a haste decision and it didn't come from just him, it came from him trying to prove his father wrong. He's only known you for like a year and a half.

And now here he was, almost three months later with a ring, a simple yet really pretty ring in a small white box. He knew that you liked very simple jewelry, so it was all good... At least that's what he keeps telling himself.

You were kinda like his friend Uraraka in that aspect... Well that would be stereotypical wouldn't it? Not that he could even bring himself to care when he had way too many questions in his head.

Should he wait? Or should he propose to you now? Should he just break up with you entirely for your sake of not being involved with his father?

If he was going to propose it would be really fast, but if he was really going to have to make it romantic.

... Right?

Dear Lord, please help him because he was about to lose his mind!

He wants to prove to his father that he can make his own decisions. He can do what he wants, and he'll do as he pleases. If he wants to marry a quirkless, poor and possibly naive girl, he'll do that!

He wants to marry this girl... He's sure he wants to at least stay with this girl, this lovely girl. This beautiful girl that's gently yet vigorously caught his heart in a glittery, golden grasp out of nowhere.

He doesn't want her to ever let his heart go, and he wants to earn hers. He wants to make her happy because even though he's confused, he wants to believe it's love.

He loves you, but then his father comes to mind. Every. Single. Time.

"Every... Damn... Time." He grumbles, clearly frustrated at what his mind wouldn't allow him to settle.

"Are you okay?" Momo asks, watching as he curses and hunches over the kitchen counter.

"I'm... Fine." Shoto replies, briefly looking at her before he looks back at the floor.

Maybe he should ask Mina or Kirishima. Maybe even Midoriya would know something about this, after all, he did help him with his fire quirk.

If he was being honest, you knew almost nothing about his terribly raised life but he knew your family and they were lovely.

Your father had to be the calmest man he had ever met. At first, due to his rough exterior, it scared him, that was until he saw him laughing and Shoto couldn't help but laugh with him.

Your brother was a nightmare at first, ready to kill him in an instant if he dared harm you. But it seemed like he got off on the right foot and after a while of investigation, your brother deduced that he was in the clear.

But he hadn't invited you to meet anyone in his family.

Damn it! His father seemed to ruin everything!

Quickly Shoto started walking to the door to put his shoes on, trying to ignore the sudden feeling he had of lightheadedness. He probably needed some iron.

"Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should drink some tea, I'm sure something stressful is on your mind."

Momo... That rich ass Asian. Momo's rich ass family made him look so poor it was ridiculous. Momo, always calm, smart, and a strong quirk to back her up. Momo, in his father's eyes, would be a logical choice for dating let alone marriage.

But that's what angered him so much.

Shoto could care less about Momo or his father, so why was he always thinking about what his father would think? About every single situation, he was thinking about what his father would see as good or bad.

He was absolutely livid by it.

"I'm fine, thanks." Was all he said as he left the UA dorms, not caring if he startled his classmates. He was a man on a mission and for some reason, he was going to follow this through like the dumbass he was.

I mean, he would have to, he bought the ring off of that stupid card. Hopefully it would ruin his dad's credit.

He continued walking but his mind wouldn't leave him alone. He was almost scared and definitely annoyed. He wanted to punch something, literally anything.

Maybe he should steal one of Bakugou's romance novels, that way he could figure out what to do in this situation that wouldn't place him in jail for harassment or attempted murder.

He was speed walking off the campus, clearly making everyone uncomfortable since Shoto was always stoic and calm. He pulled out his phone in hopes that he could call someone, but now that he thought about it...

He should just go see you, he shouldn't even warn you he's coming since it would be a surprise.

He was actually going to marry you. Technically he couldn't legally since he knew his father wouldn't allow it and since he was still a minor, he would have to wait until he was older.

But he was going to make you his fiance... Possibly. There was no real way to determine whether or not you would say yes.

Were you as delusional as him that you would say yes?

Crap, he knew he had love for you since he first talked to you. He had always seen you, either working at the coffee shop or hanging out at the skate park. But the question was, did he love you? He knows he has love for you, but that's different isn't it?

He would just take you to meet his siblings tonight, how hard would that be? They had invited him to dinner tonight and it would be a surprise for everyone. Oh damn it, damnit, damnit! Why was he feeling so frustrated and scared at the same time?!

You remind him of a rose, a rose he feels can harm him if he touches it too roughly because it has thorns. But at the same time, he feels that if he is not gentle enough, he will cause the rose to wither or break.

Damn his father! He blames everything on him, otherwise it's his own fault and he can't bear it being his fault.

He doesn't want to be the one to leave you hurt and in pain, but if he pretends to love you, won't that also hurt you? What in the world is he supposed to do?!

Before Shoto knows it, he's walking up the stairs to the apartment that you share with your family. If you weren't there, you were probably still at school or at the skate park since you didn't work today.

Why is he so scared to knock on the door? Is it because of what he's been thinking or because he's about to touch the rose that might harm him or die on him?

"Don't touch the dress!- Oh, Hi Shoto! I didn't know you were coming." You greet, opening the door and allowing him to enter the apartment before yelling at your older brother again.

"Don't touch it! I'm almost done making it so stooppp!" You yell in annoyance, only for your brother to laugh and scoot away from the dress.

"Hey dude! Our dad's not home so don't act up." Your brother greets, gaining a nod from him before he sits down next to you as you make the dress.

It was a beautiful dress, one that would fit you or any other woman perfectly, Shoto almost forgot that you liked to make clothes. It seemed to be more of a hobby than a career though, even with the talent you had.

"Can I ask you a question?" Shoto asks, watching your hands caress the dress as you sew a small gem on it. He kinda wishes you would caress him like that... Wait, was that a good thing to think?

Shoto was almost sweating at how nervous he was, there was no damn way he was going to break up with you in this house, no way was he going to propose to you in this house either.

What question did Kaminari say was good for relationships? Would you love me if I was a worm right?

... What type of question was that?

"Sure, what is it?" You start, biting on the needle to finish something before placing your sewing kit and needle off to the side.

"What in the hell?!" Your brother yells, looking at his phone before walking towards you in a haste.

"Carrie Underwood is pregnant!"

"... Who again?" You question, tilting your head to the side as he gets his shoes on. Clearly you weren't familiar with the celebrity and neither was Shoto.

"The country singer stupid! I have to go on a run or something! Otherwise I'm going to cry! I can't believe she's pregnant, now she's gonna stay with Mike forever!" Was all he could yell out before he almost collapsed and cried.

"Doesn't she live in America? She doesn't even know you!"

Chaos... Chaos was what you two were. Sibling chaos that Shoto wasn't used to. Maybe if Touya was alive, he would be that way with him.

"Would you like to come on a dinner date with me?"

Here we go.

"... Really? Sure! when would we be going?" You ask, moving the dress to the side.

"... Right now." Shoto replies, trying his best to keep his breathing to a minimum. His heart was beating way too fast and he didn't like it.

"Right now? Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

You were surprised indeed since it was usually you who initiated dates and hangouts with him. In fact, you were almost too stunned to speak. Almost.

You look towards your brother but you can already tell that he is still traumatized.

"Whatever, go take care of your hubby sis." He waved off, walking into the living room as he continued to look at his phone.

"I'm not dressed for anything nice though."

"Doesn't matter." Shoto commented, shrugging his shoulders while looking at your attire. You actually looked pretty nice, regular jeans with a Bob Ross painting shirt.

He remembers when you told him who Bob Ross was and he was immediately hooked with the painting man. Of course until he almost cried when he found out that Bob Ross had died before he was even born.

"Yes it does, I can't have you looking prettier than me."

That was nice, he liked hearing you call him pretty.

He just shrugs his shoulders again with a soft smile, allowing you to quickly run into your room to get ready. You come back about a minute later in a nice, sundress and a white dress jacket to put over.

He mostly didn't care, especially since he was just in a pair of jeans and a shirt. He did also have a plain, blue button down shirt over but how did that make him look any more ready for a date than you?

You did look very pretty.

"Bye!" You yell towards your brother, him giving a small wave in response while he still tries to use his phone to figure out if he can be a part of this family Carrie Underwood is making.

"Let's go." Was all Shoto said as he took your hand, leading you out of the apartment and letting you lock the door behind you.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yes, what is it?" Shoto asks, turning his head to look at you only to be met with a concerned expression.

"Are you okay? I'm not asking if you're sick or anything but are you feeling alright?"

He liked when you asked if he was okay... Now that he thinks about it, he likes a lot of things that you do around him.

"I'm fine... I just wanted to surprise you, I know you're always doing that for me." He starts, lightly rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. It calmed him, he didn't know whether or not you liked it, it was a small way of showing affection.

"So I thought I would do it for you this time."

"... That's sweet, thank you."

...

'Why is it so Japanese?!' Was all you could think as you stood in front of his house.

"My siblings names are Fuyumi and Natsuo."

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I'm not ready for this!" You squeak out, trying to calm yourself down by hiding behind Shoto's back. He had to refrain from laughing but he didn't think this would make you so nervous.

"You look okay, I'm sure you're ready."

"I would have dressed in something more formal than this if I knew we would be visiting your family!"

"Don't worry." He chuckled out, placing his hand on top of your shoulder in a side hug.

"It's just my siblings and plus, they don't know that you're coming either so it's a surprise for everyone."

"Alright... Alright... I can do this, it's all good." You whispered, making Shoto feel a bit bad from the sight of your nervousness.

Shoto finally opened the door, already hearing the chatter of his sister and her silent yelling at Natsuo to behave.

"Shoto, is that you?" Fuyumi asks, opening the sliding door that was inside before stopping in surprise at the guest.

"Yes... I brought a guest with me." He barely spoke out, his voice sounding quite foreign to him. He must be too nervous.

"That's great! The table will feel fuller now, my name's Fuyumi, I'm Shoto's sister." The woman greets herself, hardly able to contain her excitement about it.

Fuyumi knew damn well who you were, after all, she also visited mother and it's not like her mother kept secrets from her family.

"It's nice to meet you Fuyumi." You reply, lightly taking her hand and giggling at her puppy dog eyes. Clearly she liked guests and company. Shoto's happy that both of you seem to like each other.

"Come on inside." Fuyumi waves, allowing you and Shoto to fully enter the house.

"Natsuo, we have a guest." Fuyumi calls out, opening the dining room and not finding him before retreating to the kitchen.

"Another one other than Shoto?

"Yeah! I wouldn't be calling Shoto a guest, and be nice to her."

Shoto chuckled, leading you to the table to sit down next to him. This was good. He didn't have to worry about anything for now.

He didn't have to worry about his father, he didn't have to worry about the ring. He knew that he was just being hyper about it.

"Whatever... Wait, her?" Natsuo yells out, questioning his sister before entering the room and seeing you.

If he was a girl he would have squealed from how cute you were sitting next to his little brother. But he didn't so instead he decided to just smile and wave. He could afford to be nice and not scare you off.

"I'll be right back." Shoto starts, standing up before you lightly tapped on the back of his hand.

"Do you want me to help?" You asked with a cute face, wanting to make a good impression.

"No, thank you." Shoto replied, not being able to keep away a small smile from you because of how cute you were. He walked into the kitchen to help but instead he was quietly bombarded by his two siblings instead.

"She's so cute!" Fuyumi whisper yells, quickly hugging onto Shoto before Natsuo pushes her away to state something else.

"She's a keeper, have you been sleeping with her by any chance?"

What type of question was that?

"... No... Why?"

"Good, you haven't done it yet. I can give you some tips if you want." Natsuo starts, ruffling Shoto's hair before he smacks his hand away.

"No, gross." Shoto rolls his eyes, helping Fuyumi with the food that she made to bring onto the dining table.

As the three of them helped set the table, You of course helped where you could even though you didn't have to before you all sat down.

"So... You like jazz?" Natsuo asks, being fully serious even with his teasing mannerisms.

"Natsuo, don't be pushy!" Fuyumi scolds, hitting her elbow into his side. He only let out a grunt in response but didn't let up on what he thought was him being welcoming.

"What?! I was being serious, I want to know more about you if you're my brother's girlfriend."

"Yes, I do like jazz." You reply with a laugh, trying not to be rude since he just got his ribs attacked by his sister.

"Do you like anything else in particular?" Fuyumi asks, suddenly getting more curious and Natsuo sees that as an opening for him to tease her.

"Who's all pushy now?"

"Oh stop it."

Shoto really was happy. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, however he liked the way that you interacted with them.

Even though he could tell throughout the night that you were a bit stiff with how you talked and acted, you eventually loosened up and it seemed to just come natural.

Until of course, a problem occurred.

Of course a problem like this had to happen and now he was all worried again.

That stubborn, stupid, annoying, absolutely anger inducing problem that he didn't need.

"You told me he would be working the whole night." Shoto calmly stated, listening as he heard the door of the house unlock and open.

"I thought he wouldn't be here! He didn't say anything to us."

"Damn he's gonna be all fatherly now, how riveting."

"Natsuo!"

"What?! I don't wanna stay here for that crap!"

As calm as Shoto was acting, he was internally in fear of his mental sanity and the possibility of dying on the spot from stress. But he knew he needed to be calm for your sake since you didn't know him.

"Hey dad, do you want me to set up a new place for you on the table?" Fuyumi asks, standing up and watching her dad take off his shoes before walking away.

"Sure, I just have to wash up."

Damn his voice was deep, and not only that, it sounded horse. Probably from how much he may or may not have been yelling from his job.

For now, reaching out to touch his hand with your own from under the table would have to do in order to calm yourself down.

Shoto thought it was cute, but he didn't really have much time to reminisce on you when he had to figure out how he was gonna explain all of this. He didn't tell his father he would be bringing you.

Before he even knew it there was his father, barely registering that you were there until he sat down. When he did notice you, he wasn't sure how to react, although he wasn't even really surprised.

"Hello." Enji greeted you in a calm voice. At some point he knew his son would bring home this girl and as he recalled it, he said that ' he wouldn't mind marrying her it would make him shut the hell up'.

"... Hello..." You respond with a small smile, completely disregarding the fact that you felt like you were about to throw up.

"So... You are the girlfriend?" Enji starts, raising an eyebrow in your direction and then looking at Shoto.

"Yes sir." You nodded your head.

"Well, I guess we should talk about some things then."

It looked like both Shoto and his father were communicating with their facial expressions and Shoto wasn't having it. He was going to leave soon if he didn't stop about this because he was too embarrassed.

"About what?" You question, tilting your head a little bit at the staring contest the two were having.

"A talk that's been long overdue about this relationship you have with my son."

Now you were scared and Shoto was about to lose his shit. Mostly this was still due to the fact that his father still didn't know that he bought that engagement ring even after three months.

Not that you needed to know that just yet. It's his father's fault for not checking his money.

"As far as I'm concerned, the conversation doesn't even need to happen." Shoto butts in with a calm tone, glaring at his father with an unreadable expression.

Damn, you were jealous of his calmness, you almost felt like you couldn't speak. Yet it made you wonder even with his stoic nature, he would glare at his father with such intensity.

"Yes it does Shoto, it was going to happen sooner or later and if it happened later than now, there would be a chance that you would actually stay with her."

Ouch.

Godsmack, what a strange word. Who even allowed such a word as Godsmack to exist?

You could think about that instead of the lump in your throat or the sweat collecting at the palm of your hands that you were trying to wipe away on your dress.

"As I was saying, I'm sure you know my son's going to UA."

"Yes sir, a school for heroes." You nod, staring at your lap before looking at him. Your stomach hurts and it's annoying, you almost felt like you were on your period.

"With that being said, I just don't think that this relationship is even reasonable to begin with." He added on, looking at you with a straight face.

The only reason Natsuo was still here was because of this specific conversation. He was just waiting for Shoto to rip him up.

"Because I'm poor?" You plainly stated, surprising Enji with how quickly you wanted to figure out the issue.

"No that's not it, it's just that there's a lot of stress when you're training to be a professional."

"Right... Does it have anything to do with me being quirkless?"

Now Natsuo was interested, so was Fuyumi but she was able to hide it a bit better.

"No-"

"Well that's gotta be part of it isn't it?" Shoto asks, sounding sarcastic with his words.

"Shoto, don't start-"

"Don't start what? I already said that whatever you say, I'm staying with her."

"And what's your reason for staying with her?"

"Because... I can, I don't have to give you a reason."

"That's what I'm trying to say." Enji comments, sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"See... I wasn't the best father when my kids were growing up... That's an understatement, I was a terrible father."

And now you're not sure if you feel uncomfortable, or glad that Enji is trying to actively explain his thought process. It seemed like he was trying to fix something.

"So, unfortunately my son likes to do things that I disapprove of. All I'm hoping is that Shoto isn't dating you just because he knows I don't like it."

"That's enough." Was all Shoto said as he stood up. He was done with it because if he stayed any longer, he was going to burn the dining table down.

"Shoto, do you really see yourself with this girl in the future?"

Ouch... Again.

"Whether I do or not is none of your business!"

"I am not trying to control you but you have to think for once about this." He continues, sighing but refusing to raise his voice at the boy.

"What am I supposed to be thinking about?!"

"The fact that it's not a good idea to mess with someone's feelings because you're mad at me."

"I wasn't even mad at you until you brought this up!"

"If you're willing to interfere in someone's life because of me, then you should reconsider how you feel about that person."

"This doesn't have anything to do with you! I'll be with her because I want to be!"

"So it has nothing to do with me then?"

"No! Not everything revolves around you!

"As I recall-"

"I don't care what you recall! I'll do what I want and marry whoever the hell I want!"

Marry? How cute, he misspoke and accidentally said he'd marry you... Wait.

"... Marry?" Enji asks, giving him a quick side eye before looking down at his untouched food.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, he slipped up! Lord have mercy he suddenly felt scared for his life.

"... I meant date... But that doesn't even matter because you're not getting the point!" Shoto yells, completely disregarding what he said.

Natsuo gasps, faintly remembering a bought engagement ring on a specific credit card that belonged to his father.

Fuyumi and Shoto both looked at him with a questionable stare, wondering why he sounded like he remembered something.

"That was a slip up wasn't it?" Natsuo asks and immediately Enji looks at Shoto with an almost disappointed yet angered expression. But at this moment, Shoto felt like he was caught in the biggest scandal since his mom poured hot water on his face.

"No, I misspoke-"

"No you didn't because three months ago-"

"Don't you dare." Shoto glared, suddenly feeling betrayed by his brother who knew about it and didn't confront him beforehand.

Natsuo wasn't speaking out on this because he was suddenly siding on his father's side. It was because he didn't think that his brother was even prepared for this, and he assumed that his father had bought the ring.

Obviously not.

"What?" Enji asks, looking between the two as Natsuo stands up.

"Three months ago there was this charge on your account for a very expensive piece of jewelry."

And he was gone, Shoto immediately helped you up and went to go leave, gaining a concerned yelp from Fuyumi at how fast he was going.

"Shoto! Don't leave! What was it?!"

"Look at it yourself." Natsuo just shrugs his shoulders, his father is too quick to pull out his phone and try to figure out what was bought.

Natsuo quickly waves you and Shoto away since he knew his father was going to throw a big ass fit while

Fuyumi almost cried from the now ruined dinner. This was like the fifth time the last two months that something would happen. So you waved at her with a small smile in hopes of making her feel better.

Quickly Shoto takes your hand and literally books it out of the house. Once he closes the door when you come out, you can't even stop him as he keeps running.

"Shoto! I can't run as fast as you, what's going on?" You pant out, trying to catch up to him as he keeps running at a fast pace.

He's just literally running down the street of the neighborhood, like he was going to end up somewhere better.

"Shoto! You're acting like a teenager!" You yell, as if it was some sort of bad thing or insult.

"I am a teenager." He replies, watching as you sigh and bend over to try and catch your breath.

"What's going on Shoto? And why are you running?" You question in annoyance, looking at the direction in which the two of you ran from and then back at him.

"Do you love me?" Shoto asks out of the blue, not knowing what else to say.

"Yes but that's not-"

"I'm sorry." He interrupted, not daring to look at you right now. He felt ashamed and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

"... Sorry about what?"

"I'm scared because I think my old man's right. I'm not sure if I'm dating you because I love you or if I just hate him so much."

For some reason, watching him look down at the ground, almost as if he was formally apologizing to you made you feel sad for him.

"What do you mean?" You reply, trying to take his hand only for him to move away.

"I bought an engagement ring for you off of my father's credit card."

"... What?!"

"I did it because I wanted to prove to him that I will do what I want without his approval." He states, briefly looking up at you before looking back down. He was definitely ashamed.

"But, I'm worried because I didn't do it... For you... I did it in spite of him... I think he was right."

He took the stupid small white box out of his pocket and handed it to you. It was most definitely not a proper proposal but Shoto had no intention of proposing to you this way.

This was a declaration, that he was scared, that he wanted help from you because he wanted this relationship to be about you and him.

Not his father.

"I hate my father, so much." He started, finally looking at you and showing you how broken he was.

He was crying and you had never seen him do that before.

"I don't want to hate him, I want to forgive him... I want to love you, I think I love you. But I can't bear to just use you to make my father mad and then leave you."

"Do you want to leave me?" You ask, wanting to give him some sort of comfort, whether it be a hug or a kiss or something.

"No! But... I don't... I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to end up like him."

That was the real issue wasn't it?

He wasn't angry at his father for disapproving of you, he was upset when he bought the stupid ring. He didn't trust that he wouldn't end up like his father.

He blames everything on his father, his mother being in the hospital, his scar, his quirk, maybe even you. But he doesn't want to end up like him, he never wants that to happen.

He doesn't want to have a child that blames everything on him because he wasn't a good enough dad.

"Please... I... I don't know what to do." Shoto mumbled, finally getting engulfed by your embrace and holding on. He hoped that maybe, there was some sliver of a chance that this was actually love.

His mother says this is love, but he's still not sure. It wasn't like his parents love... Maybe it was its own love right? His own love. He prays it is because he doesn't want to leave you.

"I'm sorry!" He cries into your shoulder, trying to stop himself as he fully breaks down. How in the world was he going to keep you if he was like this.

"It's okay, cry as much as you need to."

And he cried for a bit, not too long because he didn't want to get your dress wet, but enough so that he could stop.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what to do."

"It's okay, I think that you'll be a great man someday okay? So just try your hardest to keep on and I think you'll be okay, we're all only human after all."

He forgot about you being so comfortable. He knew you were one to forgive everyone. You still put healthy boundaries around you but you would be the type of person to forgive his father.

You rubbed his back a little bit before letting him go. You swear you tried to be serious in this moment but instead you cackled like an idiot.

"I can't believe you bought this off of your dad's credit card!" You yelled out, bursting in laughter as you gave him another hug.

It wasn't that big of a deal... Well it was but he wasn't going to die.

"Here." You start, handing him the box only for him to push it back you.

"I may have bought it because of my dad... But I bought it for you." He starts, wanting you to keep it as he wipes his cheek.

"I'm not saying that I'm ready for anything like marriage yet... But I would like you to keep it for now."

"Okay sir." You chuckled, taking a hold of his hand and walking with him. That was until you felt pain in your side.

"Damn you made me run." You grumble as you hold your side, causing Shoto to laugh at you and start running away.

"Don't screw around with me!" You yell, trying to catch up with him by just jogging.

"I'm just running." He laughed, turning around as he watched you sit down on the road and eventually roll over on your back.

Shortly, Shoto sits down on the road and lays down next to you, watching the sky and hopefully calming himself down.

"It's so quiet in your neighborhood."

"Yeah... It is, almost no one is around."

"Hey, can you promise me something?" You ask Shoto, turning in his direction and looking at him with a soft smile.

"What is it?" He looks in your eyes and for some reason, he feels warm even though it's kinda cold outside.

"If you do lose feelings for me, please tell me, that way I know."

"Wouldn't that hurt you?" He asked, feeling nervous from the sudden question.

"Yes, but it would hurt less than you lying to me." Was all you said as you looked back up into the sky.

"... Alright, I promise."

"If you don't lose feelings for me, then maybe you can marry me with the ring."

"Sure." He blushes, thinking about how stupid he was to buy the thing.

"At least it's a nice box."

"Haha! You like just the box?" Shoto questions, giggling as you sit up and look at the box.

"Yeah, I haven't opened it yet... Can I open it?"

"Yeah."

You slowly open the box as if there would be a spider in it before you fully opened it and saw it.

It was a very pretty ring, it had a small, dark blue gemstone right in the middle of it. It was the shape of a circle and you could see the small crystal placements on the band around the blue gem.

"It's beautiful... How much did it cost?"

"About a quarter of a million."

"What?! You gotta give it back while you still have time to do so!" You wheeze out, almost dying at that moment from how much he paid...

Well, how much his father paid for the ring.

"No... I want you to have it, even if I don't marry you."

"I can't possibly keep-"

"Please... Please keep it." Shoto replied sitting next to you and unfortunately looking at you with the cutest yet serious expression.

How could you say no to the poor baby?!

"... Okay."

"Alright."

"..."

"Hey... I think I love you."

"I love you too Shoto."

...

"Did anyone plan on doing hero work today!?" Ida asks, chopping his hands around with a loud voice to get everyone's attention.

"Um... No, why would we do that when it's Sunday?" Mineta comments as he rolls his eyes at the question.

"Well, it seems as though someone is scheduled with Endeavor today, Todoroki do you know anything about this?!"

All of a sudden, Shoto chokes on his drink. He looks like a sheet of paper pail and he can't hide behind you because you're at work and he's at the dorms.

"Shit." Shoto mumbled out, immediately tossing the plastic cup he had in the trash and not bothering to answer any questions.

His dad probably wanted that ring.

"Um dude, you good?" Kaminari watches as Shoto puts his shoes on and tries to think of an escape route.

"Damn, Endeavor looks mad, what happened?!" Mina yells out to Todoroki as he runs into the elevator, smacking his head on the closed walls before grumbling and heading to the stairs.

"Todoroki-kun what did you do?!"

Quickly Midoriya runs after Shoto to stop him, followed by Bakugou who really didn't want to be doing hero work on the weekend.

"It's too early for this in the morning damn Icy Hot! I'm not doing patrol so what the hell did you do!"

"I may or may not have spent a lot of money for an engagement ring on my dad's credit card."

"An engagement ring!?" Almost everyone in the commen room yells out, absolutely baffled at what they just heard.

Who you tryna marry?!" Bakugou asks, almost flabbergasted at what he just said.

"... No one, I just wanted to piss him off since it was a lot of money."

Don't worry, he'll tell them all about you later.

"Like how much?" Midoriya can't help but ask. He shouldn't have asked.

"Like... A quarter of a million."

Midoriya has to cover his mouth to refrain from choking on his own tongue while Bakugou can't help but laugh.

Unfortunately his laugh had to be a full on cackle.

"I didn't think you were one for chaos icy hot! I'll help you do whatever now! You can jump out my window for all I care!"

"Then please help me with that." Shoto almost begs, not willing to deal with his mistakes just yet.

"Gladly you half and half bastard!"

"Todoroki-kun you make us look poor!" Uraraka cryed out as she leans against the couch while being comforted by Tsyu.

"Bakugou man, we can't condone this! Let him be a man and face what he did wrong head on!" Kirishima yells, trying to stop them as both Shoto and Bakugou run up the stairs.

"He's right Kacchan, we can't just-"

"Shut up Deku! I know what I'm doing!"

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bunnakit · 4 months

Text

last twilight ep 7 thoughts, feelings, etc

ALRIGHT i ran my errands, caught up on pit babe and playboyy to relax, and now i'm doing my speedwatch. i took some notes while watching the first time and they're a fucking MESS but hopefully they help me remember everything i want to comment on because without fail i always forget something.

you'll all be glad to know this week's meta bullshit from me is far, far less romantic and wistful than last weeks. you've all been spared by my adhd brain not being able to piece together a single poetic thought.

i kind of knew from this moment the trajectory the episode would take. Day is clearly nervous but not defensive - this isn't out of the realm of something Mhok would do for him but with recent context it probably feels fairly intimate. i think this was a really good indicator of what we're in for.

there's a collection of sunflowers in Day's room, tucked away in the corner, not unlike Mhok tucking away his feelings for Day's comfort. the poor things are shrouded in shadow, away from the light. the pain is unending and forever.

Day's flashback to the kiss has me curious. his eyes are closed so he's not even thinking back to seeing what he can of Mhok up close. as he reminisces about this kiss is he simply remembering the sensation of Mhok's lips on his own? how his hands curled into Mhok's jacket? and i'm sure we've all seen the post but - was he thinking of the way Mhok tasted like cigarettes? this isn't to romanticize his disability, i'm just genuinely wondering what exactly he's drawing on here in this moment, because it's clearly something significant to him.

Porjai just keeps getting prettier every episode and it's making me insane. i just think i should be allowed to take care of her.

"I'm jealous of Day's ability to make you smile."

this makes me think Mhok's smiles have been few and far between, and maybe Porjai has been looking to bring out that smile for a long time. does she ever worry that maybe someday Mhok could end up like Rung? does she worry about finding him too?

oh i so very badly want the context for this, i want to know everything. but also, it's really not that surprising. not when we've seen the things Mhok has done for Day. Mhok lives his life in extremes; anger, kindness, protectiveness, his work, etc. everything Mhok does he puts his whole self into it and it's nice to see his love is no different, because why would it be?

i'm once again in awe of what P'Aof has done with Mhok and Porjai, though. they live together so easily and naturally. there's nothing strange or awkward about it, just two people surviving life together. it's such a breath of fresh air.

Day just cannot catch a break when it comes to August. this has to hurt so fucking badly, the pity has to feel amplified by 1000. not only was August trying to force himself to like Day back because he's blind, but also because he was thinking of leaving. Day is a stronger man than me because i would be frothing at the mouth pissed.

but once again, Mhok doesn't let Day stew in his fish tank. he encourages him to go out and resolve his feelings, even if that means screaming at August and letting out all his hurt and frustration. he's seen what happens when Day lets his hurt fester and he won't let it happen again, not while he's around.

"He's a lot stronger than I thought. It's me who's so weak that I let him down."

as much as August pisses me off, i do think this is him realizing his pity was misplaced, and he failed Day in that way, so he gets some redemption points here. (still think he's a stinky bastard man tho)

the immediate distance Mhok puts between himself and the group never fails to hurt my heart. i get it, he's there for a job, but their relationship has progressed past that - now even moreso, and i cant help but wonder if this is his attempt at keeping a distance, curbing his expectations, reminding himself that while his role is to be by Day's side it's only in a professional capacity.

i love that Gee acknowledges him with a little head nod, occasionally looks in Mhok's direction as if to include him, she's just - ugh - i love all the women in this show so fucking much. i just wish someone would invite Mhok over sometime, encourage him to join the conversation (like they did back at the party.)

sometimes Mhok really is the embodiment of a shadow - both of Day and of his former self (for good or bad.)

(he looks so fucking sexy leaning like that with his shirt tucked into his pants tho, whew.)

Gee also becomes one of my favorite people for asking Day to take the photo of all of them. she just gets it, she includes him, she doesn't act like he can't do things, she even insists he can, she's just !!! the women of all time in this show i swear!!! I LOVE WOMEN!!!!

also the "you don't drink coffee, girl spill the tea" from Gee is just so good. she knows a diversion tactic when she sees one.

i want this expression framed, she's so cute, HELP.

i wish i had the time and energy today to make gifs for this week but ugh. the journey Mhok's face went on here to end up at quiet resignation. because he did figure. someone like Day? with someone like him? because we know Mhok's opinion of himself isn't great, largely influenced by his incarceration and reintegration into society, i'm sure, along with his guilt. but there had been that little bud of hope, a little sunflower seed that had bloomed just a little too far, reached for the sun a little too much. it must feel like a weed in his chest.

the way Day says 'here' so softly, with so much vulnerability made me feel like screaming. he doesn't know what his feelings are for Mhok yet (you can't tell me he doesn't feel anything) but he knows he doesn't want to lose Mhok and the sudden idea of it is terrifying. Mhok is the only person that really understands him, one of the only people he's comfortable around anymore, and he can't lose that. he doesn't want to go back to the dirty fish tank.

i also think this was an indicator to Mhok that maybe Day doesn't know how he feels, and maybe he can get away with flirting in tiny, subtle ways because from here on his secret flirting game is in full effect and it's so fucking cute. he's careful not to completely push past Day boundaries, but to test them in gentle ways.

THE SHOES MY BELOVEDS. we all know what i feel about these shoes after last week and i'm so glad to see all of my stupid babbling confirmed here. i love that Mhok constantly mends things instead of throwing them away. the sentimentality of items means something to Mhok and we love him for that.

we also got a proper 'sweet dreams' this episode, finally!! thank you subbers!

so many shots of feet this ep tho and lemme tell you as someone that HATES feet, this was rough.

oh you are so smitten. Day realizing Mhok is warm, warm in his own way, warm in such a gentle and understated way. UGH. you would've thought he knew after everything they've been through but sometimes people need a reminder and maybe something to drive them to pay closer attention. our boy is BESOTTED. kicking his feet and giggling. i think this is the happiest we've ever seen him.

so here's where i'm probably going to wax poetic the most. Mhok is finally opening up to Day in such an incredible way. he brings Day to his home with no fear of pity or judgement. he brings him into this sanctuary created by him, his sister, and Porjai and he cooks for him and cares for him and in letting him in Day sees even more how impossibly warm Mhok is.

what's even greater is there isn't a single moment where Day is jealous or questions Porjai being there. Mhok has told him she's expecting and he's never weird about it, just kind and understanding and it's all so normalized, it's fucking beautiful. Day even takes the time to encourage Porjai, to share about his mom, and about the strength it takes to be a single mom. P'Aof i adore you.

Mhok has planted jasmine simply because he knows Day likes it, and maybe now he likes it too. and he brings Last Twilight home to practice reading (i'd always wondered how he managed to read without stumbling over himself lmao) and he's done it so much that now Porjai wants to name their child Mee, wants to create this connection to Day forever.

and once prompted, once Day knows enough to ask, Mhok opens up about Rung, talks about her more. Day comments on the warmth of the house, something started by Rung and cultivated by Mhok. it would be so easy for the house to feel cold and clinical, especially knowing what happened here, but Mhok has kept it a home - warm, inviting, comforting - all the things Mhok has been to Day.

the noises took me by fuckin' surprise tho, i genuinely looked around my house like who the fuck is making all that noise and then i was like OH THOSE ARE-- OKAY--

and I know people are like haha P'Aof has a scent kink but like. idk. maybe it's just me but scents are something i'm drawn to. i remember the way someone smelled more than i remember their face. i recently took a shirt out of my closet and immediately started crying. it smelled like face powder and perfume. it smelled like my grandma. the leather jacket pushed to the side smells like cigarettes and horses, like my dad always did.

scent is such an ingrained memory, something that is so hard for our brains to let go of. every time i get a familiar smell it knocks me on my ass, and i'm so glad to see some of this represented in these shows.

this absolutely warmed my heart. whatever is going on with Night and Day is clearly more on Day's side than anything else. Night clearly loves his brother and i'm just fucking DYING to know what is going on that is causing Day to drive a wedge between them. sure, Night hasn't been perfect, but there's love there and that counts for so much.

and what exactly are you doing here??? this is a charity run for blindness - does he know someone that is blind other than Day? did meeting Day inspire him to participate? has he spent time talking to Mhok about Day and maybe the difficulties of his blindness? i am filled with questions but i love this character so much, he's just so kind.

Day's hesitation to cross the finish line was also something i found so interesting. it felt long, possibly too drawn out, but Day needed to think, needed time to understand that if he crosses that finish line, if he accepts Mhok's request to be his boyfriend, their lives will never go back to how they were. things between them will change forever, whether the relationship is a success or otherwise. it's an incredibly mature thing of Day to do, even if it felt a little lengthy for us, the audience.

i strongly believe that in addition to Mhok Porjai is going to be a big driving force in Night and Day's reconciliation. i would love to see Porjai gain Night's side of the story, Mhok gain Day's side of the story, and the two of them working together to see how they can reunite these brothers.

also if i had a nickle for every time P'Aof paired Mark with a pregnant woman in his shows i'd have two nickles, which isn't a lot but it's interesting it has happened twice.

while i, like everyone else, hope the mock proposal is a parallel we get to see later i want to focus more on this moment.

i forget who said it, it's long gone to the depths of my dash by now, but someone commented that disabilities do not stop for love, and fuck is that so true. i love Mhok's concern, his immediate reaction to soothe, and the way he seems to feel Day's fear as his own. and poor Day, he can't even enjoy this moment of bliss with Mhok because of course, of course something like this had to happen. it's so fucking real in the way Last Twilight has been this entire time.

the constant excellent representation of disabled living has been incredible to see, i've seen so much of myself in this show (even though my disability is so very different) and it's been like a warm blanket put over very single comment: you're too young to be disabled, you aren't THAT disabled, you're being dramatic, etc.

from the bottom of my heart, thank you P'Aof and team.

tag loves: @benkaaoi @callipigio @infinitelyprecious (as always tell me if you want to be added {for LT only or all meta} or removed!)

#bunn meta #last twilight #last twilight the series #mhokday #morkday #userjamiec #im soooo fuckin sleepy after making this but i still have to work #someone come make me tea and gimme a little kith

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five-and-dimes · 9 months

Text

So I'm reading through the Sandman comics, and I just got through "Three Septembers and a January" and it is just... SO interesting in terms of the Endless family dynamics.

(This is going to be so disorganized and rambly I just have a lot of feelings I loved this story okay)

Like, yeah okay I'm a Dream apologist, but seriously. Despair calls Dream (not in her gallery and without his sigil- very informal and borderline against the rules- and he still comes!) and challenges him to a game over a mortal's life. Dream is like "No, I don't play your games, I'm a goddamn professional" and Despair shoots back like "WOW you think you're soooo much better than us, not fucking around with people's lives, it's 100% your fault Destruction left" and Dream is like "...fine, hold my beer."

So that alone I'm like. Yeah dude. I get it. And if that's the shit he's been dealing with for all of existence? Yeah I'd be annoyed with my siblings too.

Another part I'm super interested in is seeing when Death shows up and when she doesn't (to be fair, we're following Dream, so it's possible we just don't see certain interactions).

At the very beginning of the challenge, Death shows up to like. Scold Dream for going along with it? She even says "I thought you were an adult" and like. Okay, sure, you think Dream shouldn't be doing this but are you going to talk to Despair and Desire about this? I love Death but a lot of times she gives me the vibe of an adult telling you "Just ignore them they're just doing it to get a reaction" instead of telling the other person to stop antagonizing you, y'know?

At one point Despair says "What's there to understand? He's mortal. He's nothing." And Dream immediately disagrees, and like. That feels like PRIME Death lecture area. Despair doesn't value mortals! The people they serve! Death if you can scold Dream for feeling lost and disconnected from humanity after being tortured for 100 years you can scold Despair for looking down on humans for seemingly no reason.

Desire eventually shows up to try to sway the guy they're following into giving into his desires, but he turns them down. And Desire is SO pissed like "what the FUCK this guy should be mine!!" and Dream's just like "¯\_(:/)_/¯" and then as he leaves is like "Tbh disappointed in you Desire, you weren't very subtle" which to me felt like an "I expected better from you" and, expectedly, Desire gets MORE pissed and as they leave, to themself are like "Oh he wants subtle? I'm gonna make him spill family blood and bring the Kindly Ones down on him!!" Which. To me. Feels like just a bit of an overreaction.

Seriously THAT'S why you want to kill him?? Because he insulted you during a challenge that he didn't even want to be a part of but got provoked into? That's your motivation? Holy shit.

Dream's done some fucked up shit, no lie, but when it comes to the family side of things? Honestly #TeamDream all the way, just leave the poor boy alone, Jesus Christ.

#the sandman #the sandman meta #don't mind me just rambling because i have so many feelings #Sometimes Death rubs me the wrong way for entirely personal reasons but like gurl can you PLEASE throw a baguette at the twins #'Oh Dream is so prideful!' bitch have you MET Desire?#Honestly so stoked to see this comic in the show #I think it's my favorite so far

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asterdisaster06 · 8 months

Text

i love you, ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

ghost x reader [exes], slight soap x reader [mostly platonic], platonic 141 x reader

1. 2. 3.

summary > "Don't trust people like me. I will hurt you in the most beautiful and intoxicating ways so that you can never go back to your normal life without my ghost following you."

...

"If you always put yourself before others, one day you'll look behind and see that you're all alone."

...

Simon "Ghost" Riley had fucked up. Massively. He had pushed you away because he was scared of losing you to the life he lived. He didn't want to see you go down the same path and lose that beautiful intoxicating spark that you always carried in your eye. And now he didn't even recognize you. Not after you had done so much work to fulfill yourself, changing the person he once knew. You had successfully climbed the ranks of the 141 Taskforce and was now crowned the second lieutenant of the team. However, you can't dodge the piercing looks that Simon sends you every now and then. You can't pretend forever.

warnings > simon riley is alluded to be a bit of a dick in this chapter

a/n > reader cenetred. author has family issues so will be found family-ing this shit. author has no military knowledge so don’t crucify me. also have no idea how long it takes to officially become a Lieutenant but we’re going with around 5 years - shortened from 7+ because us readers are smart and can go to college. it’s very much just poetic feels, but I promise the angst with Simon directly comes eventually. He’s kind of a dick tbh but that’s cause he’s emotionally repressed. i’m romanticising this because i’ve lived through similar and wish this was how it ended lmao

ao3

Simon Riley was the bane of your existence. His very being pissed you off to no end, and it wasn’t unwarranted. That anger had once been crippling sorrow and grief over what you had lost. The anger had begun as a small seed, planted in the harsh words he growled at you through gritted teeth that night. The same words that you hissed back in his face. But eventually you had managed to move on from the love of your life. Managed to move on after weeks spent with tear stained pillows and the stuffed animal he had won you once hugged to your chest. You would’ve shoved that thing in the back of your closet, but you figured you shouldn’t take your anger out on the poor thing.

Thinking of him still makes you wince like hitting your shin against a table leg, but less so. It’s faded to a simple bruise on your heart that still aches from time to time. A phantom pain for the ghost that still haunts you. Like smoke in the wind. You still fear whispering his name at night as if his spirit will come back to haunt you. You still have the keys to his apartment in your bedside drawer. You still remember where he keeps his spoons. Sometimes you wonder how many cups of tea you’ve wasted from pouring them down the drain after realising you’re still stuck in the habit of making two.

However, you know it’s for the best that you’ve parted ways. It reminds you a little of a moment in your life with him, ironically. There was this one time that you had managed to drag Simon to the beach as a small celebration for him and were out swimming as the sun had set. He only stuck his toes into the water as you swam out until you couldn’t reach the bottom. He had told you he wouldn’t save you, and you shouted back in response that you didn’t need saving. You almost want to thank him now for saying that he’d let you drown. Thank him for teaching you that you never needed saving. Not from him anyways.

It was this exact night that had led to the complete and utter dismantling of your relationship with one Simon Riley. Recalling it stings like sand in the wind against your bare legs. The kind of pelting pain that leaves no visible marks but hurts nonetheless. It steals the breath from your lungs and puts a stone in your heart.

You were so happy, so very happy. And you thought that Simon would be too. Especially for you. You broke the news to him as you were laying there on the beach that you wanted to join the military. You wanted to continue that it was because you had looked up to him so very much and wanted to do good just like he did. Even if he didn’t exactly believe he was. Before you could do so though, he had blown up on you. Completely. It was a complete shift from the Simon you thought you had known. You shudder to recall exactly what he had said, but it escalated enough for one of you to call it off.

It had gone silent after those words were uttered.

Complete silence.

You had refused to let the tears fall until you had grabbed your shit and booked a flight back to your home town. The airport bathroom had offered a greater sympathy than he had ever given you. He never even called you. You think that’s what hurts the most. That you didn’t mean enough to him to even try and work this out. You expected better from him. You truly did.

“I can’t fucking believe how bloody stupid you would have to be to do that.”

Nonetheless, you picked yourself up and signed up for the military with your family and friends supporting your every move. Your every breath. You learned to defend yourself, learned to love yourself. You had gotten around here and there, but nobody ever truly measured up to Simon. Sometimes you wonder what would’ve happened if you two had met when you were already in the military, but you always shut down those what if thoughts quite quickly. No use dwelling on something that could never be.

“This is a big fucking mistake, love.”

You rose the ranks quickly, using your spite to your advantage. Every man that reminded you of Simon always made you fight even harder. You had always told a half truth when someone asked why you wanted to join. Not the story of pain and bitterness, but the one of hope and admiration of an old friend. It made you want to throw up after the third time of giving that response, so eventually you simply changed the subject when someone asked. You didn’t even spill your past when you were blackout drunk; it being too painful even then. You drowned your sorrows in liquor and nicotine, going out with your top tier squad every Friday. Sometimes when it came to a close and you were left with the quiet of your own deafening thoughts you went outside to smoke a pack of Simon’s favourite cigarettes. A weakness that you hated yourself for.

"You are no saint, and you are no saviour either. You're just lying to yourself."

Those words ring out in your mind every time you fail to save someone. A fellow soldier or a civilian, it doesn’t matter. Self doubt creeps up on you, smothering you in its grasp. Your hands remain stained with their blood, no matter how much you scrub your skin raw in the shower. You hear their screams ring out in your brain at night, piercing the thin veil of fitful sleep that you’ve resigned yourself to after you had lost the warmth of your other half that used to hold you tight at night. Your eyes had lost their brightness, though you can’t say it’s exactly correlated to the loss of the victims. You couldn’t prove Simon right in that aspect. Not after you’ve come this far.

"Anything would be better than this!"

You wanted to believe that so badly, but your heart longed for this career almost as much as it did him. You took pride in those you had saved; albeit still haunted by those you could not. The abilities you had earned your right to were presented proudly through tactical patches displayed on your uniform - chest candy as he would’ve called it. But if he couldn’t support you through this, you didn’t know how to trust him for future endeavours. The lack of apologies simply cemented your decision and mindset.

"Why would somebody do this on purpose?"

It’s a question whose full answer still eludes you to this day. All you know is that you felt homesick for this life before even experiencing it. It’s the ache in your bones and has been carved into your ribs so you may feel the torment and euphoria all at once when your heart slams against the cage that keeps it safe. Contained.

It’s these thoughts that occupy your mind on the plane trip to the infamous compound that houses the 141 Taskforce. Anxiety pierces your nerves, sending what little food you had that morning tumbling around your stomach. Forgetting your meds this morning was likely the worst thing that you could have possibly done. Except for completely ghosting this experience. How odd it is to be haunted by someone still alive. Someone who has no idea if you’re still breathing, let alone travelling to your very location at that moment.

There was no logical reason for you to turn this collaboration down; in fact, in any other circumstances you would be proud of rising so far that you were sent to this facility. Except for the fact that it was this facility. The very one that your ex who has tormented you through night a day for years. You hadn’t spoken a word of his name to anyone after the first month following the breakup. You wanted a life where your friends didn’t even know his name, let alone his significance. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be a part of your life anymore.

You repeat this mantra to yourself as you realise you’re finally landing.

Shit.

That syllable is the only thing bouncing around your head as you’re greeted by John Price. The John Price. Alone, you notice. You had heard bits and pieces of Ghost’s team, but mostly of either Soap’s shenanigans or Price’s rulings over him. You swallow harshly and shake the hand of the powerful Captain. The very same one that had no idea that one of his subordinate’s had been your previous lover. And you planned to keep it that way at all costs.

“Welcome to the base Lieutenant, I’ve heard great things about you and your stealth skills on the battlefield,” Price spoke, shaking your hand firmly.

Lieutenant. You had always loved the sound of that word in front of Simon’s name, and had similarly always wondered how it would sound in front of yours. It brought a sense of satisfaction rushing through your veins, and yet at the same time it brought you to your knees from nausea. It reminded you too much of him.

“There was the callsign ‘Angel’ in the details Laswell sent over. Would you say that still suits you?” Price says, almost amused.

Angel. You had never intended for it to be ever spoken to you again considering its connotations with a nickname Simon had always called you. His little angel. He claimed that you were sent down from the heavens to save the sinners; although, you had never considered him one until the breakup.

How you had gained this callsign is a story that makes you want to shake like a wet dog. Shake the memory off until it vanishes from your grasp. When you were simply doing your job and slowly climbing the ranks through your initial trade training, you had this sergeant that had taken a liking to you. Much to your chagrin. He had started every conversation with the classic pickup line about you falling from heaven. It was pure torment that you had to endure for almost a full year; a year in which the nickname stuck. Nobody was willing to do anything about it, and you weren’t willing to cause a fuss by tattling on your - at the time - superior. It ended up following you out of that academy into your career.

Although, you had quickly earned the added benefit of having ‘Angel of Death’ be your full callsign after you had proven your covert operation skills - effectively wiping out an entire compound by yourself with none the wiser. Safe to say that mission was a success. The name now had something to do with your actual skills instead of your physical appearance and led you to cringe at the honorific less and less.

“I don’t think I’d be able to answer to anything else, Sir,” You answer, wincing at the mention of your callsign nonetheless.

He sends you a questioning look at your small recoil, but brushes it off in favour of moving onto a general tour of the area. It was a sizable facility with many accommodations that made you almost smile with anticipation of taking advantage of all of them. I mean, you even got your own personal shower with your room. Who is going to complain about that?

“So, that’s basically it,” Price finishes up the tour in his office. “I know you already signed off with Laswell on your contract, but just for the record, may I have you sign a few documents here in this folder? Feel free to take your time going through them.”

You overlooked the folder, noticing what little details you had shared throughout your career being asked to be confirmed by your penmanship. It makes you give a shallow smile at the memories you’ve contracted through your experiences. Some less than savoury, but many you wouldn’t give up for the world. You were looking forward to catching up with your friends back at your old base once you were settled in, but until then you scratched pen against paper.

You had finally completed signing on all the lines, getting a little tired at being told ‘here, here, and here’ over and over again. Your eyes burned with exhaustion, not quite realising how much your anxiety had taken out of you. Your hands had a small leftover tremor plaguing them as you handed the pen back to Price, but you felt better. Significantly better.

“I can tell you’re tired, so I’ll lead you to your quarters and let you rest there for tonight,” Price says, sending you a small quirk of his lips.

“Thank you, Captain,” You reply, sending a tired yet appreciative look in his direction.

“Oh, please, call me Price. If you know Kate as well as she says you do, you’ve earned that at the least,” He laughs.

You flush red, letting out a bashful grin at that. It was true that you had run into Kate a few times before realising what a big part she played in your field of work. Most of the time at the coffee shop where you held a part-time job while attending the military academy. However, the time you had sat across from her and her wife after getting stood up really sealed the deal. You being introduced as the ‘person that actually gets our coffee right’ which gave you all a good laugh. They had comforted you once you opened up about why you were at a fancy dinner alone, they welcomed you into their open arms, and that was that. The topic ended up on what you were studying for, and it all came out into the open. The silent conversation those two had with their eyes before opening up had almost made you shit yourself before Kate explained.

You had tried to stay slightly distant after figuring out exactly what she did for a living, but she had shut that down real quick - saying that if anyone had dared to call you a nepo-baby that they wouldn’t live to tell the tale. You really hoped she was exaggerating.

Back in the present, you were letting out a laugh at Price’s words before there was a knock at the door. Your heart dropped to your stomach, making your breath stumble before completely halting. In your heart, you knew who it was before Price even told him to let himself in. The gruff voice saying he didn’t expect Price to have company so late made you feel like a deer in headlights, unable to move as their untimely demise stares them right in the face.

Except this time around, this deer had broken through the freeze reaction long ago. You had learned and adapted, unwilling to relive being frozen as Simon yelled in your face yet again. You couldn’t face the shame quite yet, not unprompted at least.

You quickly turned away from your initial reaction of turning to the door. You mouth goodbye to Price and nod in respect; hoping that he would forgive you for abandoning his office without any notice. You kept your eyes to the floor, feeling his eyes staring holes through you, burning your skin like a bullet wound.

You had changed a lot throughout the years, more so in preparation for being moved here. You weren’t going to turn down this once in a lifetime opportunity just because of a silly disagreement over half a decade ago. You remember staring at a face you barely recognize today while gripping the porcelain off white sink in your shared bathroom. Past you taking actions to change your hair into something that ended up being the new normal. You had taken a page out of Ghost’s book and invested in DIY-ing a personalised mask that resembled a bird with tinted glass shielding your eyes from anyone that could recognize you simply off that. You actually had quite a few - each one for a different occasion.

Nonetheless, the mask you currently wore, its only purpose that you cared about right now was hiding your identity. Simon didn’t immediately react, so you took that as a good sign. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was simply concealing his emotions, but you had a feeling that wasn’t the case. You peruse the halls, not entirely sure how to get to your room. You had a vague idea, but backtracking made it a little more difficult. Especially since you were more concerned with conversing with Price than memorising the exact layout.

You take a turn around a corner, immediately bumping into someone with a familiar face, your eyes betraying your displeasure as you wordlessly stared into the Scots eyes.

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tiddygame · 2 months

Text

You give me goose bumps

(repost because Tumblr was being Funky on my end-- sorry!)

Ao3

Summary: Ghost sat there, trying to figure out how in the hell he had gotten himself into this situation: Lying on the floor of the safe house with a massive werewolf using him as a teddy bear. Honestly, the sequence of events wasn’t too complicated.

Tw: violence, nightmares, and a smidgen panic

It was a few days before a full moon and Ghost and Soap were on a simple, low-stakes mission. All they needed to do was find some flash drive in a building that had been abandoned. Ghost really didn’t even need to watch soap from his vantage point.

The mission was intentionally simple. Having a task force composed almost entirely of monsters did have its downsides. Every full moon, one of those disadvantages reared its ugly head.

In general, when it came to the werewolf side of things, Soap had a pretty good grasp on staying in control and not involuntarily shifting or going berserk. The amount of control he had over both forms was honestly impressive.

Full moons were a different story. In the days leading up to them, instincts always got a bit harder to defy and shifting at will would sometimes go out the window entirely. It’s why they were here, at an abandoned building. A low-energy mission to not trigger a shift, but something that needed to be done and a good outlet for pent-up energy at the very least.

Ghost watched from his perch outside as Soap methodically searched the building, occasionally catching glimpses of him through windows. Soap didn’t need his help, he was just watching the exits, making sure no one went in or out. That didn’t stop Soap from complaining to him the entire time.

“This place gives me the creeps.”

“Is that your official assessment, sergeant?”

“Oh piss off, you’re outside in the middle of the day. I’m in this creepy shithole looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Focus, Mactavish.”

“I am! You might be different, but I can talk while doing something.”

Ghost didn’t grace that with a response.

“Any clue why they vacated?”

“Negative,” he tried not to think about how if it had been anyone else, he would’ve chewed them out for unprofessionalism three comments ago.

“They left in a hurry, some poor sod didn’t even finish his coffee,” it was said in a joking tone but Ghost could hear the genuine unease behind it.

“Just find the flash drive and get out. Sooner you’re done, the sooner we can leave,” he replied not unkindly, he might enjoy teasing the man but that didn’t mean he didn’t trust his instincts. If Soap felt like something was wrong, he’d take his word on it.

Ghost repositioned slightly, watching the floor Soap was on, looking in the windows through the scope. He was barely able to see his sergeant, just in view of the window. He saw when Soap stopped in the middle of the room, and turned in a circle, definitely looking for something but not a flash drive.

“Soap, sitrep. What’s going on?”

“Something’s wrong,” he’d never seen his sergeant so spooked. He wanted to be angry, wanted to use his lieutenant voice to tell Soap to get a move on, but he couldn’t ignore the dread that was overwhelming him as well.

“Ghost, I don’t think we’re alone here,” well fucking Christ, did he have to say it as creepily as possible?

“Johnny—?” he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, whether to tell him to continue or to cut and run, but it didn’t matter. It took him a few moments to realize that the windows were slowly being covered by a black fog. He could see the wisps of smoke curling towards Johnny.

Soap noticed it too, “For fuck’s sake, I hate dealing with wraiths.”

Soap wasn’t too concerned, but Ghost was. He quickly abandoned his perch and booked it for the building. There wasn’t much a sniper could do against a cloud of smoke.

“I’m on my way, don’t die,” he hoped it went through but the way the radio was crackling didn’t fill him with hope.

“Aff—m—ve,” he was barely able to hear what he said, the radio now spewing a high-pitched ringing as if his tinnitus wasn’t already bad enough. He had to agree with Soap’s earlier comment, he hated dealing with wraiths.

If he didn’t already know the right floor, the unmistakable growl of a pissed wolf and loud crashes would have been a dead giveaway. He climbed through the stairwell as fast as he could. He burst through the door to the fourth floor, the open office space giving him a clear view of the confrontation.

His sergeant, obviously having shifted, in the corner, growling with his teeth bared. In front of him, a wraith stalking him, trying to find a weak point. It looked at him, deciding that between the two, Ghost would be the easier victim.

Ghost felt deep within him when the thing turned Its full attention to him. Wraiths were born of pure misery, torture, and dread, and they were intent on making everyone else suffer an even worse fate than they did. (For several, several years Ghost was convinced he was doomed to become one too, until a certain Scotsman entered his life, at least.) This one was strong, as It stared at him, he could feel all his happy memories turn necrotic.

The two of them stalked towards the other, Ghost’s boots stomping heavily on the ground and the wraith imitating him despite Its floating. It lunged, only becoming tangible when Its hands wrapped around his throat, trying to cut off his airway. As utter dread washed over him, he stabbed at the thing but it turned back to smoke before it could connect. They had entered a fatal tango, though It seemed to have forgotten that there was another involved.

With the wraith distracted, Soap pounced. The tricky thing with fighting wraiths was their ability to become intangible at will. Standard protocol for dealing with one involved lengthy planning and strategizing, wearing them out before—

Oh, good god, It was already dead.

Soap ripped the thing apart in the same way a dog would its favorite chew toy. He had the thing’s neck between his teeth and was shaking It back and forth, the wraith trying to claw at his snout. It was clinging to life until the final tendons gave way and Its body dropped with a heavy thud. Ghost couldn’t find it within himself to feel bad for the thing.

While Its body was now detached from Its neck, Soap still wasn’t done. He put one paw on the thing's head and kept going, not stopping until the wraith had been separated into three parts.

Soap grabbed the throat and happily trotted to Ghost, wanting him to put his hand out.

Uncomprehendingly, he did. Soap dropped it in his hand and barked, his tail excitedly wagging away.

He realized as it was nudged towards him that it was a gift. Soap had gifted him the throat of the creature that tried to kill him. He really couldn’t tell if that meant he was lost in his instincts or if it was Soap being Soap.

“Thanks,” he was touched either way.

The werewolf barked and spun in a circle, having too much energy for such a large thing in such a small space.

“Let’s find that flash drive and get out of here,” Ghost had to fight to keep the baby talk tone he normally used when talking to dogs out of his voice. Werewolves weren’t domesticated dogs and it was beyond rude to treat them as such, regardless of which form they were in or how far in their instincts they were. Still, Ghost couldn’t help but compare the way Soap was jumping around to that of a puppy that didn’t know its size. He was far from an expert in them but he knew Soap was rather large for a werewolf; it was a miracle he fit through the hallways.

They went on to clear the building, eventually finding what they were after a few floors above where the wraith had attacked. Ghost still didn’t know what to do with the esophagus he had been given, so he just… held on to it. What was werewolf etiquette for being gifted a body part?

He remembered the whole thing with cats bringing their owners dead animals because they thought that their owners couldn’t hunt and internally groaned. Please, please, please do not tell him he is expected to eat this?

He hadn’t wanted to set it down because if Soap was in control and had knowingly given it to him, that would just be a dick move. And really, the same applied for if he was lost in his instincts, it would still be mean to simply toss it aside. Maybe he was just overthinking this.

Can you overthink being given the throat of your enemy? It seems like it might be one of those things that you can only under-think.

His pondering was interrupted by Soap stopping and sniffing the air. He let out a rumbling growl, sniffed once more, and then began herding Ghost to the exit. He wanted to ask what was wrong but it wasn’t like the wolf would’ve been able to answer. Regardless, just like his instincts earlier, Ghost knew to trust Soap’s senses.

As they made their way to the ground floor, he could hear engines in the distance.

“Ah, shit…” Why now did they have to return to reclaim their stupid building?

He looked around the perimeter and saw an abandoned truck near the fence. Ghost got Soap’s attention and gestured to the vehicle, both running for it.

When the door didn’t open, he didn’t hesitate to smash in the window. As he hotwired the car, Soap started pacing back and forth, clearly unhappy at the fact that he wasn’t able to help in some way. When the werewolf heard the engine start, he perked up and ran towards the driver’s door, spinning in circles.

Ghost stepped to the side, wanting to let him in before he got behind the wheel. There was shouting coming from in front of them, some poor guard trying to get their attention who likely didn’t realize he was staring at the people who just stole incredibly valuable information right out from underneath their noses.

The guy, somehow not noticing the werewolf, approached, talking about how Ghost shouldn’t have access to the truck. He had the advantage, already holding his gun. They needed a distraction.

Some men stormed out of the exit of the building they had just fled through, gesturing wildly with their hands, shouting, “Something already killed the wraith!”

When eyes turned to the truck, Ghost had already gotten in and put it in drive.

If the guard hadn’t realized earlier, then it probably dawned on him as he had to jump out of the way to avoid getting run over. Some others tried to stop him, but there was a reason Ghost never got a driver’s license. He had spotted a locked chain link fence gate that looked just right for their grand escape and floored it. He laughed at their panic when they realized he wasn’t slowing down but tried not to be disappointed by the lack of sudden speed bumps. Soap had his fun earlier, why can’t Ghost have his?

They cleared the gate with ease and were speeding down old, back country roads in no time. Soap had moved to the backseat (the front being nowhere near big enough for him) and pawed at the window. Ghost, still riding the high of almost running people over, chuckled and let down the window, looking in the rearview mirror as Soap stuck his head out.

Knowing him, he was probably still mostly there and was enjoying having an excuse to be even stupider than usual. Ghost tried not to watch him, but he was happy to see his sergeant so happy. Besides, he’d seen enough shifts gone wrong to know that they were lucky he was still in such high spirits after a fear-induced shift.

He felt something by his foot and glanced down at the floorboard, seeing the throat still sitting there from where he had dropped it to hotwire the car. Huh. Seriously, what in the ever-loving fuck are you supposed to do in this situation?!

When he could safely say that no one was chasing them, he pulled over and got out, Soap following, running around to get out energy that was still pent up. He radioed Price, updating him on the situation. Luckily, there was a safe house nearby. Unluckily, it was a shithole.

It looked like the military saw a house going into foreclosure, bought it, then left it to rot. Even from the outside, he could see that the roof looked one more storm away from collapse and the windows had been boarded up with plywood. The only thing keeping the walls up was the structural support from how much vegetation covered the outside. How homely.

The front door wasn’t even big enough for Soap to fit, they had to go around and find a sliding back door that opened wider (he didn’t chuckle at the fact that the front door was too small for the behemoth of a werewolf, definitely not.) It didn’t take long to clear the house, the only hostile he found was some mold growing in the corner that could probably start another strand of the bubonic plague.

Ghost went back to the main room and picked through their MREs, preparing them while Soap sniffed every nook and cranny of the house. The novelty of such a large thing in such a small area had yet to wear off, and he still silently laughed at Soap having to squeeze through the doors. The wolf continually let out annoyed huffs and Ghost knew that if he still had human vocal chords, he would be prattling on and on about how stupid the door frames were.

Once Soap had checked the house himself, he made his way back and shoved his snout in Ghost’s way, both to see what he was doing and to be a nuisance. Ghost laughed and shoved his face away, knowing Soap was about to start a campaign to make sure the lieutenant wouldn’t be able to prepare their dinner in peace.

His left hand being designated as the ‘shove Soap away’ hand, he was able to continue setting up the heating element one-handed. At some point, Ghost stopped pulling his hand away and left it on his forehead, pushing as needed. And, because Ghost’s main talent is ruining things, it evolved into his left hand scratching Soap’s ears, apparently having forgotten the most basic rule when interacting with werewolves.

“If you wouldn’t do it to a human, don’t do it to them. You wouldn’t walk up to a stranger and start petting their head, would you?”

Ghost stopped and pulled his hand away, muttering an embarrassed apology that wouldn’t come close to making up for treating his sergeant like some random street dog. Throughout the petting, Soap’s head had dropped low, likely having feared retaliation if he protested the ministrations and just deciding to grin and bear it.

Soap growled, shoving his head towards his chest.

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that. It was just…,” just what? Instinct to dehumanize the person who just saved your life?

“Just… nothing. Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry.”

This time Soap whined and dropped his head in Ghost’s lap, staring up at him sadly.

“I know,” this time even quieter, “I’m sorry.”

By some saving grace, the MREs were ready. He set Soap’s next to him before subtly inching away, not wanting to force the poor man to eat next to him.

Soap huffed and nudged his food closer to Ghost before plopping down practically on top of the man and digging in. Ghost was frozen for a second, staring at his sergeant, before he too relaxed and began eating. It didn’t take long for them to finish up, both inhaling their food as fast as they could. Soap doing so from the increased appetite brought on by shifting, and Ghost hoping that he wouldn’t have to taste whatever the military considered edible.

Within no time Soap was stretching and yawning while Ghost situated himself at the window.

“I’ll take watch while you sleep,” he didn’t even bother trying to lie and pretend that he would wake Soap up to take shifts. No human vocal cords meant no arguing. He got comfortable, moving the curtains to just the right angle for him to see out while keeping the view from outside obscured.

Something was tugging his sleeve. Maybe the werewolf was further in his instincts than he thought.

When he looked, as expected, he saw Soap trying to gently pull him away. Ghost chuckled again, Soap always had to be careful watching his strength when shifted. He pulled his hand back and went to ruffle Soap’s ears before aborting the motion short. He’s not making that mistake again.

“Go to sleep, I know you’re tired from shifting. I’m the one that can still operate a gun.”

Soap growled. Ghost rolled his eyes and turned back to the window, “Go to sleep, sergeant.”

Soap backed away and, for a foolish second, Ghost thought that was it, that he had won.

He tried to lean back against the window frame but his shoulder wasn’t even able to make contact with the wall before something was latching onto his wrist, pulling him towards the corner that their bedrolls had been tossed to.

“Mactavish, that is enough,” he put as much authority in his voice as he could while being yanked around by a very stubborn werewolf. Ghost tried to pull his arm away but, unlike before, Soap’s grip tightened. It wasn’t enough to hurt, at least, so long as he went with Soap it wasn’t.

Soap growled. Just like the grip, before it had been playful, but not now. Ghost went with him, mostly out of shock. It was the first time the wolf’s ire had been directed towards him.

As he was shoved towards the makeshift bed, he gave in, “Alright, alright, I fucking get it.”

He laid down but didn’t remove any of his gear, as soon as Soap was asleep, he would be taking point at the window.

To his great frustration, Soap already seemed to know his plan and was biting at his tac vest. If Soap was far in his instincts, how would he know why Ghost kept his gear on? Was Soap, of sound body and mind, actually throwing a tantrum over who took watch?

“For Fuck’s sake, sergeant. Pull yourself together,” even as he said it he gave in to the repeated nips and growls and removed most of his gear, save for a gun holster and a few knives.

Soap seemed pleased and pushed his head into Ghost's chest to make him lie down again. He sighed and stared up at the ceiling, knowing he wasn’t exhausted enough for sleep’s mercy to grace him. It was bad enough on base, but on missions, his inability to sleep was somehow worse.

His misery was interrupted by something walking in front of him.

“What the hell was the point of making me lie down if you’re not going to watch either?”

Soap didn’t answer, just turned in circles getting ready to lie down. Until he saw Ghost moving to get up. Then he switched gears and dropped himself on top of him so he couldn’t get up and paid no mind to his gasping.

“Johnny, you-,” he shoved at the wolf and let out a wheezy breath, “you heavy bastard, move.”

Soap did no such thing and stared down at him from a sharp angle, noses less than two inches apart. As Ghost got used to the weight, he was able to breathe fully, finding most of Soap’s weight was dispersed enough that he wouldn’t be dying of crush syndrome anytime soon.

He also knew he wasn’t getting out of this anytime soon.

Ghost sighed to the best of his ability and reached for his radio.

Soap, as expected, growled.

“I’m just grabbing my radio to tell Price we aren’t dead. Is that alright with you?” the sarcasm in his tone was heavy but Soap just huffed and dropped his head back on (and completely covering) Ghost’s chest.

Price is a traitor and he revokes any positive comment he has ever made in regards to the captain. When Ghost informed him of his predicament and the fact that Soap had trapped his superior officer, the cruel bastard just laughed.

Price told him that Soap would hear someone before Ghost could see them with a scope and that he should enjoy the break and sleep. When he complained more, Price had the audacity to wrinkle paper and tell him the signal was dropping. Bastard.

He dropped his radio on the floor and readjusted himself. Chances were, he’d still be able to shrug off Soap once he fell asleep, it would just be a bit more difficult. Johnny was leaning into him and somehow managed to snuggle closer.

/\/\/\/\/\

Simon awoke with phantom images of blood on the carpet and the echoing of screams ringing in his ears.

He was still lying there, trapped underneath his sergeant who he seemed to have woken up with his sudden panic. Thankfully, the wolf moved and let him sit up, still trying to parse through his memories (real, fabricated, and embellished) and unable to get his breathing under control.

Something was tugging his sleeve.

He couldn’t see much beyond his blood-stained hands but recognized the sensation of fur under his fingers as he grieved once again. How many fucking times would he have to go through this? He pushed himself so his back was to the wall and closed his eyes.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

And yet they're still dead, aren’t they?

There was a weight in his lap. It was something heavy. He felt it and felt the same fur from before. He clenched his eyes tighter and tried desperately to breathe. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8.

He lifted his hand, feeling like he had to rip out his hair, but Johnny noticed and rooted around, getting his nose under Ghost’s hand. Ghost moved his hand away but Soap just shoved his head back under it. Simon began very hesitantly scratching his ears. In for 6, hold for 9, out for 10.

He allowed himself to relax, if only slightly, and even brought his other hand up to scratch his other ear. Simon buried his head in the fur in front of him. In for 8, hold for 11, out for 12.

Simon cried. He hated doing it, especially in front of others, but he could hear Johnny admonishing him, telling him that crying was healthy, that it was just as necessary as laughter. He always hated the weakness and vulnerability it brought, hated the idea of people knowing he was upset, but Johnny was always the exception, wasn’t he?

After an embarrassing amount of time, he leaned back and wiped his eyes. He saw Johnny’s head resting in his lap, stupidly blue eyes watching him with care. The rest of the room eventually made its way in, light trickling in through cracks in the roof and an early morning chill settling around them. Later, it would likely be so hot that the ice of hypothermia felt desirable, but as for now, Simon shivered.

Johnny wormed closer and curled around him. Unlike last night when it was meant to make sure he would stay down, this time it was to make sure as much of him was covered as possible. Simon felt bad for forcing Johnny into the role of service dog and weighted blanket, but Johnny’s not-quite-snores were rather helpful in assuring him that the wolf enjoyed their current position as much as he did.

Simon continued scratching his ears and muttered a quiet, “Thank you.”

Johnny huffed happily and nuzzled closer.

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