#and my mom is generally against me having bangs (or long hair in general but i looked like a boy for the majority of my life and itS MY HAIR

[gloomzombie]

I'll Bury You For This

Pairings: Jeff the Killer X Male Reader

Warnings: None(?)(( Let me know if I need to put any!))

Word Count: 4,276

Chapter Four: Follow You

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

August 20. 10:23 pm.

“So, how’s school going for you, Y/N?” The question is one I’ve been asked thousands of times before, all from John, and all usually around the same time; but coming from Ms. Taylor’s comforting voice doesn't fill me with unnecessary anger. I take a bite of the reheated spaghetti and look up at her. She sits across from me at the small dining table, and Gage sits on my left, his gaze and focus on his food. Part of me wishes he were focused on me, but the other part knows it’s selfish to think that way- even when I can’t get them out of my head. “It’s going fine, thanks. So far, the work’s been pretty easy and I’ve got enough friends to enjoy it.” It’s only partially a lie. I have enough friends for me, though I’m sure three- maybe four now that I’ve properly met Stacy- isn’t what anyone else would consider “enough friends.”

She smiles at me, her lips now wiped clean from the red lipstick she adorned earlier. She’s not eating with us, only drinking sips of her red wine. Gage told me this is normal if she’s gone out; sitting at the dinner table and chatting with him about his day and what he’s thinking, even if she already ate. It’s such a nice thing to do, and on days where I mope wishing John could’ve been better, or wishing I had a better dad in general, I could see myself wanting this with him- or with a better parent- or maybe Mom. If she were still here, would she have stayed with him? If she did, would she still stay even after he started losing his memory? Would he be a better person if she were with us?

I shake the thoughts from my head, focusing back onto my plate in front of me. I can’t cry in front of her again, and I definitely can’t in front of Gage. “That’s good to hear. I’m glad you have good friends to hang out with.” She smirks as she glances at Gage, then back at me. “And a boyfriend.” Gage’s head snaps up to her, his face all pink. How sweet. “Mom! I told you he’s not my boyfriend.” He argues, though not strongly, his face turning brighter with the words he speaks. She just smiles and giggles. “Mhmm, whatever you say, baby.” She leans over and places a kiss on his cheek, to which he leans away from. “Momm, please,” He spluttered, exasperated. She just peppers kisses all over his cheek, ignoring him. I can’t help the smile that creases my lips, watching them silently. I can see how he could be embarrassed by her, but really, he’s so lucky to have a mom like her. She giggles and pulls away. “Fine, fine.” She readjusts in her seat, a proud smile tugging at her lips. Gage lets his messy bangs fall over his face, though his hair’s not long enough to cover the smile that mirrors his mothers. 

August 20. 11:12 pm.

After dinner, Gage practically drags me up the stairs with him, his hand never loosening its grasp on mine. His mom only smiles at us as we go, which makes a blush rise up my neck and into my cheeks. As he leads me to his room, I can’t help but smile. He’s gotten more confident with me, I can tell. God, why does that make me feel the way it does? I shut the door behind me and he reaches his arm past me, twisting the lock as he looks up at me. I smirk down at him, his beautiful sage colored eyes gazing into mine. My smirk softens into a smile and he seems to notice, a light pink tint grazing his cheeks, his nose, the tips of his ears. 

The buzz of the alcohol has worn down by now, having been a few hours ago; but nonetheless, the adrenaline I feel right now is almost unbearable. In one swift motion, I wrap my arms around his waist and hoist him up into my arms. He squeaks and his legs wrap instinctively around my hips, his arms around my neck. I press my lips up against his, him responding in kind; kissing me back almost as passionately, though I can still feel the shyness of it. I waste no time in carrying him to his bed, laying him in it and breaking the kiss. His eyelids flutter open, his green eyes dark in the dim light; the only light being the deep, navy blue lamp on his bedside table. I need him.

His limbs never tear away from me, and they pull me onto him, as he gazes up at me with those fucking eyes. The way he’s looking at me now is something I’ve desperately wanted for years. He’s so fucking addicting. I kick my shoes off, letting them fall wherever. He watches me intently with an undeniable blush grazing his soft, delicate features as I sit up in his lap and pull my shirt up and off of me. I throw it on the floor, keeping eye contact with the boy underneath me. I can feel him already, a pulsing feeling against my leg and I don’t even try to hide the smile that makes its way onto my face. I lean down to kiss his neck, some of the strands of my hair falling and brushing against him. 

“Please, Y/N.” He whispers, his voice a tad higher than usual. I look up at him. Fuck, did I go too far? I got so caught up in the feeling of him; the feeling of just being with him, that I didn’t pay enough attention to what he may be feeling. “Everything alright, Gage?” I ask, bringing my head up a bit so I can look down at him comfortably. He glances up at the ceiling, resting his head down on the pillow. “I..I think so. I just…” he hesitates, and I can feel the nauseating wave of guilt wash over me. I chew on my bottom lip, but I don’t tear the skin as much as I’d like to. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” 

The heat in my cheeks spreads to my ears and I feel so uncomfortably hot. I sit up, still in his lap, but giving him space if he so wants it. “I-I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before I-” “No. Don’t do that.” He rises to sit up, his full focus on me; with his hands sliding down my arms to intertwine his fingers with mine. “I…I want everything you’ve done, and everything you want to do.” His face can’t get any redder, so evident under the blue light. I feel the relief flood over me, drowning out the guilt from before. His eyes drop to the floor, but he brings them back up just as quickly as he dropped them. “I want you, Y/N, but not just like this.” He mutters, leaning his forehead against mine. I can feel his breath against my lips this way. “Are you saying..you want to go out with me?” I ask, and the question is one I’ve never asked before.

Despite sleeping with people in the past, I’ve never actually been on a date. I’ve gone out with people, sure, but they never saw me as anything but a friend; or a toy to use for sex and nothing more. The thought of going out with Gage runs through my mind, and my body reacts; my heartbeat thrums in my ears, a repetitive thump, thumping sound; my stomach feels like it's churning- but not in the bad way I’ve grown so accustomed to. He smiles his sweet little smile and I can’t deny the way it makes me feel so nervous. “Yes, Y/N. I’ve wanted to for months, maybe a year now.” I smile sheepishly. 

Oh, yeah. I forgot Gage had his eyes on me for months before he got the courage to talk to me. I can’t believe I didn’t notice him before, but I guess it makes sense; we both prefer to stand on the sidelines, unnoticed by the crowd. I just wish I had noticed him sooner. “Then, let’s go on a date.” I speak nervously. The words are foreign coming from my mouth. I’ve never been asked out before, and never asked anyone else out either. He adjusts to sit up straighter, and I slide off of his lap, sitting in front of him, though his hands never break from mine. “I’d love that.” He shakes his hair out from behind his ears, his bangs covering his eyes; but I catch the sudden color in his face. He’s still so nervous around me, as I am with him. I laugh; a real laugh that makes me feel so light. 

He smiles, a wide and open smile. “What?” He asks and I shake my head, still laughing. “I just..I don’t think I’ve liked anyone the way I like you before.” I squeeze his hands, warm in mine. He flushes and giggles. “I could say the same to you, lover.” Lover. The pet name leaves me feeling so fuzzy. My stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. I close the small gap between us, pressing my lips against his in a way I haven’t with anyone before him. I can feel him smile through the kiss, and I smile too.

August 21. 1:24 am.

“Wait, you’re telling me with all of those bands you like, you’ve never been to a concert before?” Gage asks as he sips his tea, sitting in a booth opposite from mine. I shake my head. “Nope. I mean- I wish I had of course, but…” I gaze at the floor of the dimly lit 24-hour cafè. “I’ve just never had the money for it when they do come here.” A lie. I hate to lie, especially to people I actually give a shit about- but really, there’s no way around it with the way I have to live. I don’t want to drop my shitty situation onto him, so it’s so much easier- nicer-  to lie.

He nods. “I get that. Where’d you say you work again?” He wonders aloud, tilting his head. I take a bite of the semi-warm chocolate chip cookie in my hand. “Library. I’m the assistant,” I place the cookie down. “Y’know, putting books back where they belong and shit.” He smiles sweetly, and I can’t help but to smile too. “Awh, do you like that? I know you read a lot.” I sigh, leaning against the cushiony booth behind me. I love the way he just knows stuff about me. 

“I do, actually. It's good pay and when there’s nothing else to do and no people that need help, I can read.” I pick up my glass of coke and take a few sips of it. “That’s pretty cool. I’ve been wanting to get into reading lately,” his fingers tap lightly on the mug in his hands. “I just don’t really know where to start.” I perk up at that, placing my glass down. “I have a lot of books you could read!” I smile sheepishly. “The first and only piece of furniture I bought was my own bookcase. I started getting too many books, they all couldn't fit on my desk anymore,” I could feel my face heat up. 

He giggles, making my face feel even warmer. “That’s..really cute actually.” I huff. “Hey, you’re supposed to be the cute one,” I argue teasingly, finishing the last bit of my cookie. He shakes his head, giggling some more before taking another sip of his tea. “You can be cute sometimes too.” I shake my head too, giving up. 

We continued talking for a bit in that shabby little diner. I’m still surprised his mom let us go out so late. John doesn’t even like me going out past sundown. Even though it’s been only a week of talking to him, I think I’m starting to really like him. I can’t let myself rush into this like I usually do, though. If Gage is good for me, the last thing I want to do is mess that up. The walk back to Gage’s house is silent- a comfortable silence. His hand is warm in mine, contrast to the chill of the late summer breeze. I can’t stop smiling until we reach the door. 

He takes out his keys and unlocks it, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. He smiles at me and takes my hand again as he leads me inside. I don’t smile back, my cheeks are sore from all the smiling I’ve already done. I shut and lock the door behind me. He takes me upstairs and into his room. I take off my shoes and place them neatly by his door, watching as he does the same. 

I sigh as I lie down on his comfy bed. It’s much nicer than mine, soft but firm. Mine is missing springs, dents in the mattress where they should be. “I’m gonna take a shower.” I look over at Gage and he’s pulling his sweater over his head. I can’t help but smile at the sight, my cheeks screaming in protest. I’ve never seen him without it. His t-shirt hangs loosely on his thin frame, making him look smaller than he already is. “I didn’t think you could look any cuter.” I move to lay on my side, resting my head on my hand. He smiles at me, though I can see the light blush at his ears. “Shush. Do you want one after me?” I think for a bit. I probably should. “Yeah, sure. As long as I get to listen to music.” He giggles. “If you want. I won’t take long.” He takes out some clothes from his drawer, then goes to the bathroom in his room. He shuts the door and I pick up my phone. I turned it off a while ago, so I could enjoy my time with Gage. 

I turn it on, chewing on my lip as I wait for the android screen to change. As soon as it does, practically a million notifications pop up. I groan, already knowing where most of them came from. I scroll through and swipe away all the missed calls and messages from John. There’s no point in responding now. I’ll send him a message in the morning. I get rid of all the youtube notifications. I don’t really feel like watching any of them. I stop when I see Xander’s name. 

August 21. 12:34am. 

Xander: Hey Y/N. We need to talk. Meet tmmr at 2?

I can’t help but stare wide-eyed at the message. He hasn’t texted me since…June 7th- when he asked me to come meet him at the mall with his now ex girlfriend. What is it he wants to talk about? We’ve needed to talk for the past 5 goddamn months. I swear to god, if he wants to talk about some dumb shit again, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from blowing up on him this time.

I roll my eyes and text him back. Despite being really annoyed, I really do want to talk with him. Even if he wants to talk about dumb shit, I’ll make him listen to me. 

August 21. 2:13am.

okay. where?

As I’m placing my phone down, the screen lights up again. My eyebrows furrow. Xander messaged me back already? Bitch must be desperate. 

Xander: How about that bookstore you always wont shut up about? 

Okay, consider me confused. He’s never wanted to go to the bookstore, let alone go somewhere that I like. I sit up, texting him back again.

works with me, but why there?

Xander: Idk. Thought youd like that ig. Could get lunch after. I’ll pay

i cant say no to free food

Xander: K. C u then

C u

I hear the sound of the door swinging open and I look over. All thoughts of Xander escape my mind as I gape at the boy by the door. “Told you I wouldn’t take long,” Gage mumbles as he dries his hair with a towel. I can feel the bite of the blush rising up my cheeks. “I didn’t doubt you.” I look back down at my phone for just a minute, clicking out of the messages app and opening my music app. I look back at him and he’s shaking his head. Adorable. I stand up, sliding my phone in my pocket. I walk over to him and he flushes as I get closer. “You look so pretty,” I smile before placing a small kiss on his lips. His face goes pink and the bathroom light illuminating his face doesn’t hide it at all. He shakes his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Take your shower, dummy.” He goes to the edge of his bed, kneeling down to open my backpack. I chuckle as I watch him take out my clothes. I wonder how he’d look in them. 

After my shower, I look in the mirror as I dry my hair. I sigh, leaning closer to look at the deep purple lines under my eyes. They’ve been getting worse even though I’ve been getting…okay sleep. Could be stress, I guess. Or maybe it’s the nightmares finally catching up to me. I turn my gaze away, tossing the towel into the hamper by the door. I turn off the light and open the door. Gage is already in bed, his phone placed on the bedside table. He moves his arm over the blanket, lifting it up. “I’m tired. Come sleep?” I smile sheepishly and place my phone on the table next to his before sliding into bed with him.

August 21. 10:16am.

Sleeping in a bed next to Gage made the nightmare go away. I didn’t dream or anything, but that’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while. I look down at the boy beside me. The light peeking through his curtains bathes him in a light that makes his skin look like it’s glowing. The sight takes my breath away. I move my hand up to brush his bangs out of his face slowly, pressing my fingertips against his face. I don’t dare move anything else. I don’t want to wake him up. I let out a silent breath. I try not to think of the messages I must have from John. I need to stop letting him ruin these moments for me, especially when he’s not even fucking here. 

“You like watching me sleep? Creep,” Gage murmurs, his eyes opening slowly. My face heats up. “How could I not when you look this enchanting?” I smile. He closes his eyes again, a smile of his own touching his lips. “Shut uppp,” he whines, scooching closer to me. He pushes his face into my chest, and I laugh. “Going back to sleep?” I ask as I pet his hair. He hums and it vibrates my chest, making me feel so nervous. He mumbles something against my shirt. “What was that?” I chuckle. He pulls back, groaning. “I said I guess I probably shouldn’t. You need to go home sometime today.” He stretches, and I watch him. “Doesn’t that just mean we have to spend as much time together as we can until I leave?” I smile. He huffs and looks up at me. “I guess.” He tries but fails, a smile pulling at his lips. 

After we share a few more kisses, we decide to get up and get something to eat. We walk hand in hand down the sidewalk for a while. He’s taking me to his favorite breakfast place that’s just outside his neighborhood. 

My gaze is on the houses as we pass them. His neighborhood is the nicest I’ve ever been in, which doesn’t say much. All my previous friends have had run-down looking houses, and the others in their neighborhoods weren’t any better. The best was always Xander’s, until he moved out of his parents’ to live in a shitty garage-turned-apartment on his own. Xander. I miss Xander. My face droops a bit at the thought of him, and the thought of seeing him later today. I think Gage notices, but if he does he doesn’t say anything. I chew on my lip. I don’t need to think about him when I’m with Gage. 

He leads me up to the door of the restaurant and opens it for me. I smile. “Already opening doors for me,” I smirk smugly. “Shhhh,” He shushes, walking in after me. The restaurant is small, about five tables inside with two outside. The smell of butter, syrup, and eggs fills the air with an oddly comforting scent. I walk him over to a table with two chairs in the corner, right by the window. He sits in the chair opposite of mine, and I look out the window. From here, I can really see how nice his area is. The sidewalks on either side are free from overgrown grass and cracks in the cement; no potholes in the pavement nor broken beer cans or burnt and stomped out cigarettes. Though he doesn’t live far away from me, we’re still miles apart. 

“Hi, welcome to Granny’s kitchen. What can I get you?” I turn my gaze to see a short, dark skinned girl. She looks around our age, no lines of age gracing her clear skin. Her hair is braided and tied back into a low ponytail. There’s menus already laid on the table. How was I so focused on just the outside? I pick up the menu, my eyes scanning the laminated paper quickly to find something. I feel Gage’s fingers on my hands, sliding up and down so gently I almost didn’t catch it. “We’re gonna need a bit more time. Could I get a cup of herbal tea?” I look back up at him, and though he’s speaking to her, his eyes are on me- and he’s smiling. My face flushes and I resist the all too familiar urge to pull away. The waitress nods at him then turns to me.

“And for you?” She asks. “I’ll just have water.” She offers me a small smile. “Gotcha. I’ll be back with those drinks in a bit.” She turns away and heads to the kitchen door. I look at Gage, and his fingers are tracing mine as my hands still grip the menu. I bite my lip and look down. On the menu are a selection of breakfast, lunch, and dinner options. Though I prefer dinner or even lunch over any breakfast stuff, the chocolate chip pancakes catch my eye.

Under the breakfast options are breakfast sides to choose from. I can’t eat much, so I’m going to have to hope they let me get the kids. “Do you know what you’re getting?” Gage’s voice brings me out of my thinking. I look up at him. “Oh. Yeah, I think so. Um, do you know if they have an age limit for the kids portions?” I ask nervously. It feels so embarrassing to ask a question like that. What kind of 17 year old boy orders off the kids menu? 

“No, they don’t.” And there’s that sweet smile. “I usually order off of it. I don’t have a big appetite most of the time,” his hand is still resting on mine and, instinctively, I pull my arm away. Something keeps me from letting him touch me this much, in this way; I don’t know what, but right now, I don’t really care to think about it. “Good. Me neither.” I respond, my gaze dropping back to the menu, though I’m done reading it. He doesn’t speak up again until the waitress comes up to the table, which makes me wonder if I did something wrong. 

“Here’s your tea, and your coke,” She speaks as she places our drinks down in front of us. She smiles, and I can see she’s got those cool fang piercings. “Need more time?” She asks, glancing from me to Gage and back. “I think we’re good.” I look over at Gage and he nods. “I’ll have the kid’s chocolate chip pancakes with bacon.” I don’t usually eat out like this, so the words sound shaky and not right coming out of my mouth. Luckily, the waitress doesn’t seem to mind, or care. “Alright, and for you?” 

Gage tells her his order, and she walks back off after telling us it won’t take long. The rest of the breakfast goes by quickly, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I like spending time with Gage, especially when it could be considered as a date, but I can’t help but feel this weird sinking feeling. As if something’s going to go wrong at any moment. That, plus I’ve been so anxious the whole time about seeing Xander in just a few hours. It doesn’t feel right. None of this feels right. 

When I went to take the bill, Gage swoops it up. “I was gonna-” “Don’t worry about it, Y/N. You paid at the diner last night,” He smiled at me before taking out his card. I bit my lip. I wanted to say he doesn’t have to. I wanted to say he shouldn’t pay for me because I don’t deserve that kind of treatment. But, as always, I said nothing.

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #creepypasta x you #jeff the killer headcanons #jeff the killer x male reader #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer x you #male reader #x male reader #slenderman

[billyhargrovesupsidedownshadow]

A little nonsensical Single father!Billy Harringrove piece, 968 words, no warnings, G

-------------------

Billy rubs a hand over his face. Fuck, he's tired.

"Why are you bringing someone over? You're a father!" Jen's voice is so insanely annoying, Billy can just barely hold himself from wincing. Exactly how drunk was he six years ago to deal with it, was beyond him.

He glances, frowning with worry, in the direction of his living room. It is suspiciously quiet. Sarah isn't running back, shrieking from seeing an unfamiliar man in her home, and Steve isn't trying to politely leave forever because oh, maybe Billy forgot to mention that he has a kid.

A kid who chose the first fucking mommy-weekend in five years when Billy had someone over to throw a tantrum about how she wants to be back at daddy's.

Like hell he will listen to all of his friends telling him he needs to meet people ever again. Fuck all of them. This is what meeting people leads to: children or childhood trauma.

"Jen, you fuck around all the fucking time, one night I invite someone over, and that's it, I'm a terrible father?"

"Don't swear in front of my child!" She whisper-yells at him.

He can't believe he's being slut-shamed in his own house, when he hasn't even done anything. Because as soon as they got to the fun part, Jen was banging on his door. Not the kind of banging Billy hoped for today, but definitely the only kind he's getting.

He squeezed his eyes shut. That's what he gets for taking a risk. A mess.

"Okay, alright, I'm not, bye, Jen, you brought Sarah over as she asked, now you can go."

"You can't have some man over with my child in the house!"

"Right, I'm not, bye, Jen," he ends up closing the door in her face, hoping that this will be the end of it for now. He knows he's going to hear all about it next weekend anyway.

He waits a couple of minutes to check that she isn't trying to break his door down again. Definitely not stalling before he has to go into the living room.

And Steve is actually so hot and nice and generally good. And loaded. Like who the fuck else brings his car over to a mechanic just to check over clearly nothing four times in a month. Their receptionist, Argyle, said that Steve came over only when Billy was in. Billy looked at the little bi flag on the BMW's dash for a long time before actually deciding to try his luck and asking Steve out.

And now Billy has to awkwardly explain how he managed to fail to mention that he has a kid over five dates and wave Steve goodbye forever. And he was starting to actually like the guy. Thinking that maybe life was looking up. That maybe he will have someone to come home to when Sarah is at her mom's.

But of course not. Not in his life.

He breathes out and walks into the room, the only light coming from the street lamps outside and the floor lamp leaning over the couch he was just making out with Steve on fifteen minutes ago.

"And you know all the breeds?" Steve asks in a very serious tone, looking at the book about horses that Sarah has on her lap sitting on the couch next to him.

"Yes! Daddy reads me all about them! And we go watch them at the stadium when there are competitions!" She answers, excitedly.

Billy leans against the doorframe, a bit dumbfounded.

Steve looks up at him and smiles, then turns back to Sarah.

"You can tell me all more about them next time, okay? I have to go now," he stands up.

"To feed your doggies?" Sarah asks, all understanding, brows furrowed.

"I hope my friend fed them, but I should go check in case she forgot. It was very nice meeting you, Sarah," he offers her his hand for a formal handshake and she giggles.

"Bye, Steve!" She yells as Steve walks by Billy to the hall.

They stand there, awkwardly, for a moment.

"You have dogs? I haven't seen any hair or damage in the car," Billy blurts out, like this is the most important thing right now.

"Yes, I have six. They aren't allowed into the Beemer, I have a minivan for them. Yes, I have two cars all for myself," he says before Billy has a chance to ask, while putting his shoes and a jacket on.

Then he looks at Billy again.

Billy just stares back, not knowing what to say. Steve looks pretty chill after the whole encounter, but Billy isn't about to allow himself to hope that they were still on for later.

Steve leans in a presses a small kiss to Billy's lips.

"Call me," he says, serious, making sure Billy's looking into his pretties fucking brown eyes ever. "Bye, Sarah!" He yells again, getting another "Bye!" in response. "Bye, Billy, see you next time," he says and finally smiles, opening the door.

"Yeah, next time," Billy manages to croak out eventually, his voice unexpectedly coarse. "I'll call you!" He adds as an afterthought when Steve is already walking to the elevator of Billy's building.

Steve waves at him.

Billy closes the door and leans against it.

Fuck.

"Daddy, is Steve your new friend?" Asks Sarah, coming to him and looking up at him with his own blue eyes.

"Yeah," he says.

She nods.

"That's good, you need more friends, and Steve's nice, he listened all about the horses! Can you make me a sandwich? I'm hungry!" She says all in one breath and skips to the kitchen.

Billy breathes out and follows her, fighting back a smile.

They are still on. Maybe he actually did luck out this time.

#stranger things #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #that's definitely a post #that's kind of a fic

[crackedpumpkin]

|| ʙᴀᴅ ɴᴇᴡꜱ || ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ||

Hey guys :) I'm sorry :) This took so long :) I'm currently exhausted :)

-Love, crackedpumpkin

“Where have you been?!”

“I was at SFIT.” You admit, tossing your bag on the neatly tidied bed. Your roommate, Sakura, snorts.

“What, the nerd school?” 

“Hey, they’re pretty chill,” You defend, throwing a quick frown over your shoulder. “Besides, one of them asked me to come in for an interview tomorrow at nine for a new job!” 

“New job?? Don’t tell me…Did you get fired for real this time?” Sakura sits up as her jaw drops, sliding off the beanbag next to you and landing on the floor. “What about rent?”

“Don’t worry, I got enough for this month and the next.” You assure her, pulling out the tips Noah generously gave you. 

“How’d you even go from being fired to having an interview at a cafe just from SFIT? Because if it’s for the cafe there, their coffee is barely adequate.” Sakura sticks her tongue out in disgust. 

“Some guy named Tadashi Hamada has an aunt. He even brought his little brother along — Hiro. He’s a prodigy, I think, but get this: he’s the same age as us!” Your lips tug up into a smile, recalling how he had geeked out about meeting Robert Callaghan earlier, protesting to Tadashi that he needed to enroll in SFIT.

“Oh no. I know that smile. Is he cute?” Sakura sits on the edge of your bed, and you scoff, pulling out some pastries from the cafe in your bag and handing it to her. She takes them with a happy hum. “He’s cute then?”

“He’s…alright, I guess. I don’t know, I’m not looking for anything right now,” You admit, sitting next to her with a weary sigh.

“Right,” She hums through a mouthful of Danish, “Your parents and all. But you know what they say: There’re lots of fish in the ocean, and maybe this ‘Hiro’ guy might end up as your new crush.” 

“Shut up,” You laugh, shoving her off your shoulder, which she leans on, “And don’t get crumbs on my bed.” 

“Yes, mom!” She calls out as she walks out of your room, shutting the door behind her. You shake your head with a chuckle, quickly getting ready for bed. You glance at the clock, excited about the interview, and doze off to sleep.

— — — — — 

“-terview? Y/n! You’re gonna be late!”

You blink your eyes, your vision blurry as you mumble an incoherent sentence. You place your pillow over your head, not ready to leave the comfort of your bed. Sakura sighs. Time for the extreme method.

The silence continues for the next few moments, and you sigh in relief, starting to fall back into your usual deep slumber.

Then the clanging starts.

“Wake up!! You’re gonna be late!!!! We’re going to starve if you don’t land that interview!” Sakura shouts, walking back into the bedroom with a pan in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other, banging them against each other like a gong.

You groan loudly, wriggling back down into your duvet to escape the loud disturbance that threatens to continue. But she moves even closer until it’s right next to you.

“I’m up, I’m up!” You finally protest with a loud grumble, sitting upright as messy strands of hair fall around your face. You muster all the strength you have in you to shoot her a glare, and she shrugs, dropping the pan and wooden spoon onto your bed and leaving.

Sometimes you wondered if you had made a horrible decision in choosing her as your roommate.

You reluctantly leave the warmth of your safe haven, the chilly air of SanFransokyo’s seven a.m. weather greeting your bare legs. You shiver, quickly grabbing a change of clothes and getting ready.

“If you don’t get that job, I’ll laugh at you!” As you prepare to leave, Sakura shouts from the kitchen, and you roll your eyes in mild amusement. You’re biting down on a piece of bread in your mouth, keeping it from falling to the ground as you wear your shoes.

You shut the door, munching on the bread, sling your bag across your shoulders, and letting it rest on your hip. The journey to the cafe is peaceful, your earbuds blasting some hype music to get your mood up before you meet the cafe owner.

You reach minutes before nine, almost getting lost from the confusing directions a quick internet search provided. You reach out for the cafe’s door with a hesitant hand, heart thrumming in your chest as you take a deep breath.

You swing the door open, heading inside. As you walk in, the pleasant scent of freshly baked muffins and ground coffee greets you. You inhale deeply, a warm smile on your lips as you breathe it in.

“Hello, I’m looking for Tadashi Hamada’s aunt?” You ask the woman behind the counter. She’s wearing an apron, so you figure she must be working here.

“Oh! You must be Y/n. I’m Cass, but you can call me Aunt Cass.” She greets you warmly, stepping out from behind the counter. Her eyes shine with a welcoming gleam, and you immediately feel at ease around her. 

You find yourself smiling back, following her to an empty table where she sits. You sit opposite her and place your bag on your lap.

“Hi, Aunt Cass. Tadashi actually offered me an interview with you to work here. I’m interested in working as a barista and have some experience from my previous job.” You explain, and she nods.

“Tadashi showed me a few pictures of your coffee, and the latte art looks amazing! Tell you what, how about we do a quick test run?” You follow her behind the counter, the familiar sight of the espresso machine making your shoulders relax.

If the space behind the counter were a castle, you’d be its lord.

You crack your knuckles, stretching your arms above your head with a confident grin. “What would you like to drink?” You ask, turning to look at Aunt Cass, who’s surprised by your sudden confidence.

Her stunned expression melts into an easy grin, hand propped on her hip as she thinks of a beverage. “A flat white.”

You nod, grabbing a mug and a metal jug for the milk. You ready the ground coffee, using a wire whisk to stir through the tiny grains before tempering it with just the right amount of force. You slot it into the espresso machine, starting it with a happy hum.

Grabbing some full-fat milk, you pour it into the metal jug and place it under the steamer. The milk begins to froth with a loud hiss, and you hold it for a few moments until the texture is just right. 

Grabbing the mug with the fully extracted espresso from the ground coffee, you position your hand above it and tilt the cup. Then, you start to pour the milk in slow circles, letting it fill the mug until it’s almost at the brim before beginning to move your wrist and creating an intricate heart with the foam.

You’re so at ease, moving to place the mug in front of Aunt Cass with a relaxed smile. “Flat White for Aunt Cass?”

She picks it up with a chuckle, tucking her auburn hair behind her ear before taking a sip. Your confidence slowly morphs into nervousness, fidgeting with your hands and glancing at the espresso machine unsurely. 

Was it bad? Did you put in too much milk? Was it too cold?

“It’s good!” Your tense shoulders relax, and the tightness in your chest releases with a snap, looking up with a hopeful gaze.

“I guess it’s fortunate that you walked in. I was getting a little overworked myself,” She chuckles, holding her hand to shake yours, “Welcome to the Lucky Cat Cafe. Are you alright with starting today?” 

You grin, holding her hand and giving it a firm shake. “Is there a uniform?”

She briefs you on the shift timings and pay and invites you for dinner, which you eagerly accept. 

“Great! Tonight’s dinner is hot, spicy wings that’ll melt your face right off!” She laughs with a goofy smile, and you giggle at her bright smile. “You’ve met the boys, right?” 

You nod, recalling the events of last night with a grin. “They can be such troublemakers sometimes, so if they cause any trouble for you, you be sure to let me know, okay?”

“I will,” You reassure her, and you see her visibly relax, smiling at you fondly. She places a hand on your hair, gently rubbing it before heading upstairs for your apron. You wait patiently, hearing the thud of multiple footsteps running down the stairs.

You stand up, about to greet Cass once more, when you come face to face with the two Hamada brothers. Hiro’s baffled, looking at you with a confused gaze while Tadashi grins. “Hey, kiddo, how’d the interview go?” 

“It went great. Thanks for giving me this chance Tadashi,” You smile gratefully.

“Wait, interview? You work here now?” Hiro speaks up, and your nod makes him scoff. “Sure, like a fourteen-year-old knows how to work the huge espresso machine.”

You frown, and Tadashi gives him a noogie, sending you an apologetic glance. “What’s so unbelievable about me knowing how to make good coffee?” You fold your arms, practically challenging him with a glare.

Hiro shrugs, ignoring the way Tadashi glances between the both of you with a wince. “Oh yeah? Make me some then.” He gestures to the counter, and you walk behind it with a huff, throwing your hair up in a quick ponytail before starting on one of the best drinks you’ve ever made. 

Hiro eyes your furrowed brows and walks over, leaning on the counter. “How’d you even get fired anyway?” He asks curiously. You pause, giving him a quick glance before deciding to humour his question.

“I threw coffee at someone.” Your answer simply, and he chokes. 

“You what??” He splutters, Tadashi having gone back upstairs to grab something else.

You shrug. “She threw it at me first.”

“Dang.” He’s speechless for a moment, but another question occurs to him. “Wait, then why were you at SFIT anyway?”

“Fred brought me there. He stops by my old workplace to buy a cup of coffee every now and then. He’s the one that introduced me to everyone and asked Tadashi to let me have an interview here.” You explain with a fond smile.

“Cool, but it still doesn’t explain why you don’t go to school. I mean, I graduated early, but you? You should be in class or something.” 

You’re steaming the milk, and you’re lucky he doesn’t see your eyes roll at his subtle brag. “Well, unfortunately, because I’m not a prodigy, I didn’t graduate early. But it’s the holidays right now, so I’m trying to find work to keep my rent afloat and support my journalism.”

“Journalism?” He questions. You nod. 

“Yeah, I’m in a journalism club for my school, but a lot of work we do isn’t exactly…supported by the school. Plus, I have to pay the electrical bills for all my research.”

“Have I read any articles of yours then?”

You pause briefly, thinking hard, before you shrug nonchalantly, “I doubt it. The school paper is usually just circulated in the school, not outside.”

“So, you’re not a real journalist then.”

“And you’re not a real scientist.” You shoot back without thinking. 

“I am!” Hiro protests, and you’re ready to groan at how you once again spoke without thinking.

“Look, kid-”

“We’re the same age.”

“Just because I didn’t graduate early or whatever doesn’t mean you can comment on my hobbies and life. Besides, we barely know each other.” You turn back to the mug before you, picking it up and doing some sloppy latte art before placing it in front of Hiro.

He stares down at the deformed cat you drew for him.

“That’s you,” You add an unnecessary explanation, incredibly amused by how his eyes widen indignantly. But he glances back up at you with an aloof gaze, picking it up.

Hiro sips the hot coffee, eyes widening slightly when he registers how good it tastes. “So? How is it?” You ask with your arms crossed as you lean against the counter smugly. He coughs, wiping his lips with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“It’s acceptable, I guess,” He hums with a smirk, taking another tiny sip. You roll your eyes playfully, already starting on another order. 

“Sure, Hamada. Enjoy your coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah” He walks off to the stairs that lead to the living area above, and you watch his back gradually disappear from your sight with a laugh and a shake of your head. You’re startled, however, when you hear an intrigued hum from beside you. You flinch, doing a double take, when you notice the tall male beside you with wide eyes.

When did he get here??

Tadashi watches you with a knowing smile, and you clear your throat, looking back down at the coffee in your hands and continuing to work. However, he doesn’t say a word, continuing to watch you with that smile that's slowly becoming irritating. You try to shake it off, but it’s as if a heavy weight settles on your shoulders.

“Can I help you with something?” You plaster a fake smile onto your lips, setting down the small metal jug to heat up milk for a latte.

He hums. “Nothing,” And walks off right after.

Your jaw drops, bewildered by his response. 

Boys are weird.

You try to brush it off, focusing on the orders that are steadily beginning to pile up. You make each one quickly, ensuring the quality doesn’t suffer as Aunt Cass focuses on clearing tables and the cash register.

The day goes by in a flash, and you’re already mopping the floors when the last customer leaves, the door closing with a quick chime. 

“Great work today!” Aunt Cass beams, handing you a glass of water which you accept thankfully. You gulp it down, the cool liquid incredibly refreshing after the dinner rush from earlier. 

You had eaten lunch earlier with Tadashi, the younger Hamada nowhere to be found. (And thank goodness for that.) Tadashi had mentioned that he was preparing for an exhibition to enter SFIT, and you chose not to pursue that topic. Instead, you had asked him about Baymax, and he answered all your questions effortlessly, lighting up as you asked more in-depth questions.

“Let’s head upstairs for dinner. It’ll be ready in a jiffy, so you can make yourself at home first.” Aunt Cass says warmly, leading you up the stairs and instructing you to take off your shoes before stepping onto the welcome mat. 

You place your shoes to the side, toes wiggling in your socks before you also take them off. She hands you a pair of house slippers that you accept gratefully, slipping them on and stepping into the living room. 

It’s relatively large and comfortable enough for a family of three. You sit on the couch, and Aunt Cass turns on the television, handing you the remote and telling you to pick whatever channel you want. 

“Hey, kiddo,” Tadashi greets you, sitting down. The couch sinks slightly from the sudden added weight, and you lean back with an easygoing grin. 

“Hey. Where’s the prodigy?” You ask.

“He’s still stuck upstairs, thinking of what to make.” He hums. “Sorry about him earlier, though. He’s usually not this much of a jerk unless he feels comfortable around someone.”

“That’s okay. I don’t think before speaking either, so I might be a little…mean? In my response.” Tadashi chuckles at your confession, grinning widely. 

“Don’t worry about it. He needs to be put down a peg or two sometimes.” 

“Y/n! Tadashi! Hiro! Dinner’s ready!” Aunt Cass calls from the kitchen.

“Coming!” You hear Hiro faintly shout back from upstairs before you hear a thud. Your brows crease, shooting a worried glance at Tadashi, who just shrugs.

You glance at the doorway, almost laughing, when a grumpy Hiro walks in with a hand massaging the side of his head.

“You again? What’re you doing here??” He points an accusatory finger at you, and you ignore him, choosing to sit down and thank Aunt Cass for dinner. He grumbles something as he sits down.

"Fake journalist," Hiro coughs under his breath, yelping when Tadashi not-so-subtly kicks his leg under the table. 

He shoots a glare at his brother. Aunt Cass is about to scold her nephew, but you interrupt her with another cough. 

"Fake scientist," You cough out with a smirk, Aunt Cass stunned by your sudden comeback. 

Hiro sits back in his seat, his brow raised. "Touche."

— — — — — — — — —

taglist:

@urfavarab

@dee-zbignuts

#bh6 #hiro x reader #hiro hamada x reader #series #baymax #wasabi #gogo #honey lemon #tadashi hamada #fred #hiro hamada #big hero 6 #bh6 x reader #hiro hamada x you #hiro hamada x y/n #hiro hamada x female reader #x reader

[littledrummeraussie]

Am I too late? 😂🥰 Hi Angie! I hope youre well! Been a while and I miss yoooou! Gimmie some soft holiday magic with Ashton maybe? 👀🥹

My dear Sky 💜 this one ran away with me, and I really do hope this is everything you dreamed of. To be honest, I plan on revisiting this one later this year because I had so much fun building the characters and their story. 💜

masterlist. | want to be added to my taglist? | Christmas Blurb Fest 2022

just fall in love with me this Christmas. [a fake dating story with Ashton]

warnings: boss!Ashton. personal assistant!reader. fake relationship. just general cuteness and feels and confessions and such.

word count: 4350

----------

“It’s one more hour and then you’re free to go.”

“Are you kicking me out of your Mom’s house? My own boyfriend?”

Ashton giggled at your offended face, holding onto the plate he was drying, and you were quick to join him, trying to stay as quiet as possible. You flicked some water at him as you finished the dishes, an offer you made to his mother after she so generously welcomed you to her home and let you be part of their Christmas preparation and the holiday itself. To be honest, it wasn’t such big of a surprise – after all, you were dating her really lovely and really handsome son, Ashton.

Fake dating her son, Ashton. Ashton, who was your boss. Your boss, who somehow made his whole family believe that he did go on dates which he was able to fit into his really tight schedule. A tight schedule which usually took up his whole day, and which you were responsible for – after all, you were his personal assistant, so it was perfectly normal for him to talk about you in the most random contexts, right?

.

Apparently his family thought otherwise.

Ashton approached you after a long Friday night back in November and offered to take you home, saying it was too late and too dark to wait for a cab or an Uber, and that it was the least he could do after you stayed overtime because of his meeting running too long. You were chatting about the upcoming Monday and what you needed to prepare for with the holiday season coming up when he let out a little cough, slowing down at a red light.

“If the holidays have already come up…”

“I did schedule your two-week vacation for December,” you smiled at him, tapping away on your tablet to pull up your notes, ready to jot down any other things he wanted you to add. “You just need to confirm when exactly you want to go home and I’ll buy your ticket as well.”

“What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Uhm… nothing?” you shook your head a little, his question taking you off-guard. “Why?”

“You’re not going home for the holidays?” Ashton looked at you, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, something you were not used to; he was always so confident and put together.

“No, my family is currently not talking to each other, and I really don’t want to deal with that if I can help it,” you explained, shrugging a little. “I would rather spend Christmas on my own and in peace.”

“What would you say if I asked you to come and spend Christmas with my family?” he parked the car in front of your building, finally turning towards you.

“I’m not sure I understand…” you raised an eyebrow at him, looking at him expectantly. “What is going on?”

“I– might have told them that we’re dating and that you’re coming with me?” Ashton said the whole thing in one breath, face twisting into an apologetic grimace. “I’m– sorry?”

“You did what?” you blinked at him, not even questioningly – you just felt confused. Really confused. You were sure your boss just lost his mind.

Ashton let out a loud groan, head banging on the steering wheel as he mumbled a few colourful curses, before falling back against his seat, fingers running through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up in a second. In any other situation this would have been a hilarious sight for you – your extremely talented and influential, well-dressed and well-spoken boss falling apart in his car, all but making a fool out of himself with the dramatic way he acted. But you knew Ashton. You’ve been working with him for more than two years now, first as a junior assistant, then promoted to be his personal assistant once he fired your predecessor. He rarely freaked out over things, especially minor ones. But this seemed like a problem he was not ready for.

“I’m sorry, I–” he sighed, rubbing at his face tiredly. “It was a misunderstanding and now I can’t get out of it.”

“What kind of misunderstanding? Ashton, come on, you’re not helping!”

“I was talking to my Mom and I was telling her about an event we did and then a dinner and then another thing, just… casually dropping your name in the conversation every 2 minutes or so because obviously it’s perfectly normal for me to talk about my PA when we’re working so closely together, but…” he took another deep breath, hanging his head low before glancing over at you again, red splotches appearing on his face from how frustrated he felt. “She didn’t know I fired Melody in January… and that you’re my PA now… and she thought that this new girl I’m suddenly talking about is actually my new girlfriend whom I did not introduce yet.”

“And you did not correct her on that…” you concluded, and Ashton shook his head, staring at the dashboard.

“Nooope. And she asked me if you would be able to join us for the holidays and before I knew it I’d already said yes…”

“Ash–”

“I just… I just wanted them to finally leave me alone!” he massaged his temple, a headache certainly starting to flare up from all the frustration he carried. “Every time I call home they are always, always asking me about my love life and I just– I hated how I always tell them that I don’t have anyone, how I don’t have time to date, and then… and then I panicked and I just said–”

“Ashton!” you raised your voice and that finally made him look at you, eyes big and maybe a little nervous, still chewing on his bottom lip. “I’m in, it’s fine.”

“It is? Yeah?” he perked up at your answer, desperation still lacing his voice. “You would do that?”

“Sure. After all, I’m your PA. It’s my job to sort out your things,” you took a little jab at him, and that made Ashton laugh a little, letting out the breath he was holding back.

“Thank you, Y/N. You really are saving my ass,” Ashton started pulling himself together, like he didn’t just have a nervous breakdown in front of you. “And of course you’ll be compensated for giving up your holiday for my sake.”

“We can talk about details later. I’ll schedule in a dinner for us, because we definitely need to talk about a lot of things…” you were already making a few notes for yourself before smiling at Ashton, opening the car door. “Do you feel like Italian or maybe something Asian-style for our first official date?”

“Really funny, Y/N,” a laugh hid in his voice as he rolled his eyes. “Surprise me?”

“Of course you would say that,” you shook your head, grabbing your things; after all, this was a weekly exchange between the two of you. “Alright, then I’ll see you on Monday if nothing comes up during the weekend.”

“Thank you again, really,” he gave you a little nod as you climbed out of the car, rolling the window down to call after you. “Have a good night, darling!”

You laughed at his attempt and waved him away, promising yourself that you’ll come up with a nickname for him as well so you can tease him in front of his family. If Ashton dragged you into this whole thing, the least you could do was to have some fun while fake dating your boss.

.

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night?” Ashton’s mother fussed with the lapels of his coat, not yet ready to let go of her son.

“We would really love to, but we both have early flights and the hotel is closer to the airport,” Ashton smiled at her, stopping her hands and instead holding them in his own. “It’s still a good hour until we arrive, and honestly, Y/N is not a morning person. Like, at all. And I really don’t want her to miss her flight now that we were able to get a last minute ticket.”

“It was really lovely spending time with you, Mrs. Irwin. Thank you for inviting me, truly, it was a pleasure,” you stepped next to them, letting her hug you as well as Ashton started saying goodbye to the rest of his family. “I really wish we could stay, but we really don’t have any other options.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m grateful you’ve spent your holiday with us instead of your family, so I understand you want to be with them as well,” Anne Marie gave you another sweet smile, squeezing your hands just like Ashton did with her. “I’m so glad he found you. You complement each other perfectly. I’ve never seen my Ashton this happy, and I wanted to thank you for it.”

“Oh it’s… it’s nothing, really…” you stuttered at her words, suddenly feeling a little awkward; if only she knew that the whole thing was just a well-orchestrated show the two of you put together…

“Please, he looks at you with such adoration. Now I kinda understand why he was so nervous to bring you back home – he’s smitten with you, and there’s no way he would let anyone know that there is someone who has Mr. Big Boss wrapped around their finger,” she continued in a whisper, a twinkle in her eyes, like she was sharing a secret with you.

“Mom, please, don’t scare her away,” Ashton turned back to the two of you, laughing, his arm slipping around your waist. “We should go, darling. We still need to check in and all.”

“Sure, boo. Once again, thank you for everything. These last two weeks were incredible!”

“Please come back soon, both of you,” Anne Marie bid you goodbye one more time before you grabbed your bags and luggage, loading them into the car Ashton rented, then you were on your way back to the city.

Leaving two days earlier wasn’t in your plans, but right in the middle of your stay with Ashton’s family your mother called you up, asking if maybe you would be able to still visit them, even if it was just for a few days. You were ready to tell her that it was a really last minute invitation, and that you were kind of in the middle of something that actually involved your job and your boss, and really, you didn’t want to go and hear the latest family drama. But then that night when you told Ashton about it he was quick to realize that maybe you did want to go and see your family, and he pulled every possible string he could to get you a ticket.

“I’ll change your contact info to Mr. Big Boss,” you giggled, your head resting back against your seat as you looked at Ashton. “Though I kinda like Ashton Bear with the red heart.”

“You’re terrible. Was that really the best name you could come up with?” he groaned, sending you a quick smile as he drove down the road.

“Because Baby Shortcake and the cake emoji were so much better, you’re right,” your eyes rolled at the memory when you were both looking for his phone in your shared bedroom, finding it under the presents you’ve brought, your caller ID flashing across the screen. “How did I even become that?”

“It’s what you ordered for dessert on our third date,” he shrugged, his cheeks flushing pink. “I mean, on our date, when we were discussing everything and all.”

“When we were talking about coffee orders, and I might have confessed that I have a whole chart based on your moods and what kind of coffee you usually drink at that time? Because that was definitely a really good work date, and the absolute best strawberry shortcake I’ve ever had,” you smiled, a twinkle in your eyes. “You should definitely take me back for another dinner or something, I think I deserve it.”

“Only for the strawberry shortcake?” Ashton chuckled, but there was something else laced in his voice, something flirty and maybe hopeful.

“Definitely for the cake. But maybe for something else as well…” you let your answer linger between the two of you, not missing how Ashton tried to hide his smile in his scarf, mumbling a quiet ‘okay’ to you.

.

After two weeks of sharing the same bed it was a nice change that you were able to have one just for yourself, even though you were still sharing a room with Ashton. He told you to go ahead and take a shower while he sorted out some things, and you happily wrapped the robe around your body once you were done with your nightly routine. By that time Ashton had also come back and went to freshen up after you were finished, settling down next to you on the couch in his own robe. Before any of you could say a word someone knocked on the door and he quickly went to open it, appearing a moment later with a tray and two mugs.

“What’s this?” you smiled as you accepted the steaming cup, looking at your boss over the rim.

“Hot chocolate,” Ashton returned your smile, taking a small sip of his drink, licking the whipped cream off of his top lip. “I’m still in a Christmassy mood.”

“Yeah, me too. And our room definitely helps with that,” you nodded at the small tree in the corner along with the artificial fireplace in front of you, everything settling the mood for a perfect, quiet night you still had together – the very last one. “Though I really liked your Mom’s living room. It was really nice and cozy.”

“Yeah, it was… it was nice. Back at home. Thank you for coming with me once again,” Ashton stumbled through his words a little before looking at his phone, his lips twitching into a thin line before quickly shaking his head.

“You’re okay?” you did not miss his mood changing, and you thought something might have happened which caused it.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” he gave you a forced smile, looking back at his mug, not really drinking it anymore. “Uhm… it’s midnight. You’re officially off duty, and no longer my girlfriend.”

“Oh,” you blinked at him a few times, realizing why his demeanour changed for a second to his usual boss one. “Yeah, of course. Thank you.”

Silence settled over the two of you as you both returned your attention to your hot chocolates, sipping on them quietly. You imagined that this moment would pass without any other thoughts, that once Ashton told you that your agreement has come to an end you would just fall back into your usual roles and act like nothing has happened in the last few weeks. But the truth was that you couldn’t forget about them: the dates you went on, the kisses you’ve shared, the vulnerable, intimate moments you witnessed from each other while you pretended to be lovers.

“You know…” you finally spoke after a few minutes. “I had so much fun during these two weeks with you. It was really lovely and it actually felt like… like something that Christmas with family really should be.”

“I really had so much fun with you too. Can’t remember the last time I felt like this,” Ashton’s mouth pulled into a little smile, nostalgia lacing his voice. “It was the first time that I– that I really wished I could stay a little longer.”

“I’m sorry you needed to leave because of me. You should have told me, I could have found a way to get here and catch my flight in the morning…”

“No, I– I wished that I could stay there… with you,” the confession finally slipped out of Ashton’s mouth, his eyes settling on you. “That you didn’t need to go home, and neither do I. That we would stay and just be together. Just a little longer.”

“I don’t have to go home if you don’t want me to,” you answered in a whisper, almost like you were scared that if you were any louder it would ruin the magic of the moment.

Ashton slowly put his mug down on the table in front of you before scooting closer and taking your cup as well, placing it next to his, eyes still trained on you. His palm curled around your jaw, your own hand sliding over his as he tipped your head forward, nose tracing yours for a moment before you felt his lips slowly press against your lips, soft and tasting so sweet. It was more than just the quick pecks you’ve exchanged in front of his family; a little moan escaped you at the kiss, and Ashton took that as a sign to tease his tongue against your bottom lip, taking your breath away for a second. Your free hand slipped onto his shoulder and up to the nape of his neck, fingers brushing through his curling hair to pull him closer, wanting to get lost in the kiss you’ve shared.

It was long minutes later when he finally pulled back a little, forehead resting against yours as he breathed deeply, the hot puffs of air tickling your skin. You felt a smile tug at the corner of your mouth, eyes still closed, the words softly falling from your lips:

“Hmm, a real kiss?”

“I would like to think they were all real,” Ashton chuckled, heat radiating from his cheeks, but the cheeky smile on his face gave him away.

“That’s why I needed to tell you to kiss me that very first time?” your fingers combed into his hair, tugging on his curls a little while pulling him back again, lips pressing together for another second.

“I’m not a damn fool…” Ashton mumbled against your skin, nuzzling his nose with yours. “Well, not anymore.”

His honesty made you laugh and you buried your face against his neck, stifling your giggles. Ashton wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close to his chest, palm rubbing up and down your back, something that he picked up during your time at his Mom’s house when you were cuddled up on the couch, watching Christmas movies together. You still remembered the first time you were forced to act like lovers and be all touchy with each other, and now it warmed your heart how naturally it came for the two of you.

“I’ve thought that the only reason why I asked you to come with me and pretend to be my girlfriend was simply because you’re my assistant, and you’re used to dealing with my shit,” Ashton sighed against your hair, his voice close to a whisper, and you held your breath as you listened to him. “I’ve told myself that whatever I was feeling during our dinner dates or quick post-work discussions was because it’s been a while since I had someone I could share anything with. Because I needed to pretend we’re together, and I needed to believe I have feelings for you. I told myself I’m not falling for you, that I cannot fall for you. But by the time we have arrived it was already too late…”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him again, foreheads touching, wanting to ask him something, but Ashton continued talking, his eyes sparkling in the colourful lights twinkling in the corner of the room.

“I think… I think I always had feelings for you. Maybe not as strong as now, but they were there. And every time we needed to act like a couple I just froze for a moment because I was fighting so hard to keep my feelings in check. And every time I just felt myself falling even more for you…” a little smile pulled at the corner of his mouth at his own confession, and you ran your fingers down his cheek, softly caressing it. “After those first few times… it was so easy, so comfortable – I liked that feeling with you, being comfortable. I’m not used to that with people.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. And you did remember, every little moment from the past two weeks: all those times when you needed to face a new situation that required the both of you to put your boss–assistant relationship behind yourselves, get out of your comfort zones, and act like the loving couple you pretended to be. It made sense now, how Ashton always hesitated first, but then warmed up to you as time passed by. The long looks, the lingering touches, the unprompted little cuddles, the quiet moments shared in the morning. You could have acted like you always did, just two people having a work relationship. But somehow you always found yourselves close to the other.

“I was telling myself that I’m only feeling this because we’re pretending that we’re in love. That these things will pass soon, especially as we’re coming to the end of our agreement. Funny how I realized what I was really feeling by the time you have decided that you’ll go home to your parents. It made me realize that I might just lose my chance to tell you how I feel.”

“Well, that was… quite the confession,” you let out a little laugh, your own cheeks feeling warm as you cupped Ashton’s face in your hands. “Am I allowed to speak now?”

“Oh, shit, yeah! Of course,” Ashton groaned, trying to hide his blush from you, his dimples appearing as he smiled. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I know you’re good at motivational speeches,” you teased him, making him roll his eyes before looking back at you. “I liked whatever we had before we started fake dating. I love our work relationship, I love our dynamic. But truth to be told… it was really easy to fall in love with you. I always thought you were… decent and… handsome… definitely great humour. But I quickly told myself that I can either ruin this by having a crush on you, or you know… keep my job. And then you fired Melody…”

“…and you decided to keep your job,” he concluded, his voice sounding a little more quiet.

“I also knew that pursuing a relationship with you would be really difficult, seeing as you didn’t really have any breaks in the last few years. And I wasn’t sure how it could work out… PA by day, girlfriend by night? And anyway, I wasn’t even sure if you would like me like that.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure either… not until recently,” he said, nodding for you to continue.

“When you asked me to go on this trip with you, I– I told myself you were crazy. Then I realized I was also crazy for even just thinking about saying yes to your offer. But I thought it could be a fun way to spend Christmas if I’m not with my family, and it also kinda gave me the chance to pretend that you… that you like me. And I was gone from the moment I saw you at the airport, wearing your glasses and waiting for me with coffee… and it broke my heart that this would be only for two weeks.”

“That’s why you ended up saying yes to visiting your family, even though you didn’t want to do it before?” Ashton asked, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face.

“I had a moment when I felt really close to you, where I believed that this thing between us… it was real,” you confessed, eyes looking down. “And I felt that I might need a few days alone to sort out my feelings before going back to work with you, acting like nothing happened while we were here. Like we didn’t share the bed, we didn’t hold each other, and we definitely didn’t kiss.”

“Well, I don’t want to pretend that these two weeks never happened,” you felt him curl his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap before tipping your chin up, making you look into his eyes. “It’s the happiest I’ve been for a long time now. And I really want to hold onto this feeling. I really want this to be real, you and me.”

“What about our jobs?” you sighed, fingers tangling into his hair and brushing it back from his forehead. “Cause I want this, I want you, more than anything. But I don’t want to give up on you, not as my boss, and definitely not as Ashton.”

“We’ll just try and work it out when we’re back, okay?” he cupped your cheek, leaning closer to press his lips softly against yours. “We’ll schedule a work dinner at that restaurant you liked and talk about it over a strawberry shortcake.”

“You’re terrible,” you scoffed, pressing a smiley kiss back onto his lips. “Do I have to make the reservation?”

“Hey now, I know I’m bad at scheduling, and that’s why I have you, but I’m taking you on that date myself,” Ashton giggled, mumbling his words between more kisses. “It’s what a real girlfriend deserves.”

“Can I keep your contact info as Ashton Bear? With the heart?” you nudged your nose against his as you kissed, his fingers tightening on your hips. “If you’re my real boyfriend now?”

“Surprise me?” his voice turned into a moan, locking his arms around you, your body pressed against his chest.

“Of course you would say that.”

His giggle filled the air, hearty and full of happiness before picking you up in his lap and taking you to the bedroom. There were a lot of things forgotten that night: setting an alarm for the next day. Your robes and the other bed. Staying on your sides as you fell asleep. You both forgot who you were pretending to be and who you were supposed to be.

That night you were finally just two people who fell in love during Christmas.

----------

@mymindwide @fuckyeah5sostakemehome @suchalonelysunflower @talkfastromance4 @ashtonsunflower @in-superbloom @wiiildflowerrr @lovelywordsblog @heyitskelseaj @sadistmichael

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin fluff #fiction time #christmas blurb fest 2022 #afic: just fall in love with me this christmas

[alexa-crowe]

As the World Caves In

Mulder/Scully: end of the world smut; Scully holding/squeezing Mulder’s hand during orgasm. Written for @xfpornbattle’s Sextember 2022. Title taken from the Matt Maltese song, but more specifically the Sarah Cothran cover of it. @today-in-fic

It starts, as they say, with a bang. Or maybe “ends” would be a more apt description.

For a few moments, all Scully is aware of is the thump of her heart, steadily beating its anxious rhythm: Danger. Danger. Danger. She forces her eyes open before they’re ready, flinging her arm to the other side of the bed. Muldermuldermuldermuldermulder her heart thumps, faster as she swipes her hand around on the sheets, looking for his warmth, for his assurance that it’s not happening. This is not happening.

Scully blinks furiously, stumbling out of bed to pull on a pair of sweatpants and a thick woolen shirt, pausing at the door to let her vision clear. “Mulder!?” she calls out, wandering around the house, hoping with everything she has left that she is terribly, terribly mistaken.

She frantically peaks through archways and slams open every door to no avail. Scully desperately jogs around various pieces of furniture to the front door, hastily tugging on boots and a thick winter jacket before exiting the house into the eerily still pre-dawn expanse.

“Mulder!” she cries out, the thick layer of snow from the night before crunching underfoot as she treks across the porch and down the stairs.

Another bang. In its aftermath, she hears an engine start around the side of the house and jogs over, finding Mulder rising from beside the generator, bundled much more securely than she.

“Oh my God,” she breathes, coming up behind him to wrap her arms around him. He startles for a moment but relaxes when he realizes that it’s her.

“Scully.”

“Don’t scare me like that,” Scully pleads, allowing Mulder to unwrap her arms from their grip around his torso so he can turn around.

“I’m sorry,” he says, burying his gloved hands in her tangled auburn tresses. “I got a message from the Gunmen.” No no no no no— “They’re on their way to your mother’s. They’ll take her to their bunker.”

No... “Mulder...”

“Hey, hey, hey...” he whispers, smoothing her hair back as he pulls her into him. “We’ve been preparing. We’ll be okay.”

“How can you say that, Mulder?” she cries, shaking her head against his coat.

“What’s the alternative, Scully? Panicking won’t help.”

“Blind optimism isn’t of use either—”

“Scully—Scully, look at me,” Mulder urges, taking her by the shoulders and bending down to look her in the eyes. “We have a plan. Okay? You and me—we have a plan. The Gunmen and your mom have a plan. Doggett and Reyes are getting William—they have a plan. Even Skinner has a plan. Just believe in me. Okay?”

She nods, sniffling. “Okay.” Five minutes ago, she was sleeping her last restful night in their bed before this great unknown. Oh, God. Thump thump thump. So many things left unfinished—William, their sweet baby son, still lost to them, but hopefully not for long. “Okay.”

***

They spend the day pacing agitatedly, waiting for updates from their friends, frantically switching between embracing and not being able to stand still enough to touch. After hours, Scully forces them to eat a bowl of soup each; each spoonful goes down, but barely.

The relief they both feel when the messages come through, only scant hours apart that evening, that everyone is safe nearly buckles Scully’s knees. “Oh my God,” she intones against his shoulder, his cheek, between his brows, his lips.

It’s warmer inside the house than outside, and blisteringly hot where Mulder’s hands skim the curves of her body beneath her shirt. “Scully,” he says, his well-maintained beard rasping against the sensitive skin beneath her ear.  “God, Scully.”

He walks her back to the stairs and she’s tempted to tug him down on top of her right there, but resists. Scully tugs his face away from her neck by his ears, breathless, and palms his cheeks. “Take me to bed, Mulder,” she tells him.

He kisses her heartily, face framed in his tender palms. “Come on.”

He is oh-so tender as he undresses her, and she is the same, but his callouses are still rough against her skin as he drags his hands down to her hips, tugging down her panties as he kneels on the floor. Love me, love me, love me. He kisses the healed bullet wound on her abdomen, a ritual after all these years of loving each other, but it makes her breath catch in her throat nonetheless.

Scully urges him up and tugs him with her onto their well-loved bed, letting her eyes fall closed in bliss as Mulder indulges himself in her breasts. He kisses a circle around each mound, teasing her mercilessly before finally nudging her nipple with the tip of his nose.

“Mulder...” she sighs, exasperated.

He chuckles and promptly sucks her into his mouth, yanking a lengthy sigh of pleasure out of her mouth as she slowly drags her foot up the back of his leg, opening herself up to his gently rocking hips. It is at once the most ordinary sex they’ve ever had—textbook for them, really—and the most ardent lovemaking session to date, even this early in.

Mulder lets her nipple go, leaving her flesh around it reddened from his beard, and swiftly moves to the other, bringing his hand to the nipple left wet with his saliva. He caresses her breasts in concert, one inside his mouth and the other with his hand. Where he sucks the one, he tugs the other; where he nips the one, he pinches the other. Eventually, it becomes too much, and Scully clasps his hand over her breast, flexing her toes as her chest heaves.

He hums and slides his hand free to support himself while he sends the other adventuring down past her hip to caress the inside of her thigh, venturing teasingly close to where her wetness his gathering before tugging her other leg up and over his hips so he can roll his erection against her at a better angle.

“Ahh...” Scully breathes, pushing her head back as his cock slips between her outer lips to rub against her slick inner ones.

Mulder groans, sinfully sexy, and her nipple slips away from him. “Jesus. Scully, you—”

He shakes his head and captures her lips instead, hiking himself further up the bed to do so and taking her legs with him. Scully cries out as his penis strokes against her clit, reflexively gripping his ass as he takes her lips again, grinding against her. She can feel her arousal practically dripping out of her to be spread by his cock, the interaction of their bodies lewd.

Just when she thinks he’ll reposition and slip inside of her, he instead begins his journey down her body, kissing down her chest and abdomen, straight to her pussy. Mulder doesn’t waste any time before roughly spreading her labia and pressing an incongruously tender kiss to her throbbing clit. Scully cards her fingers through his hair, breath stuttering as he teases her with the tip of his tongue.

He abruptly licks her with the flat of his tongue, a cry catching in her throat as she digs her heel into his back. Mulder places his hand on her abdomen, just above her pubic hair, and applies pressure, inserting his middle finger inside her at the same time. Scully meets his hooded gaze and whimpers, letting her head fall back against the pillow as he crooks his finger inside her, deftly stimulating her G-spot and sucking her clit into his mouth.

“Oh, God!” she cries out, gripping his hair in one hand and pressing his face against her by the nape of his neck with the other. “Mulder...”

He slips another finger inside and shifts by the foot of the bed, increasing his pace as Scully feels her orgasm begin to build. Faintly through the walls she can hear the generator running outside, and in the room the lewd shifting of body parts against the sheets and Mulder’s little satisfied noises as if he can’t get enough of her, and the little whimpers she can’t help but emit.

Slow and steady wins the race, she knows. He doesn’t do anything special, he simply follows her directions, pressing more firmly on her abdomen as she begins to roll her hips, encouraging her approaching orgasm. “Mulder,” she gasps.

“Come on, honey,” he mumbles against her clit. “Come on. Come for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” she intones, words devolving into a rich moan as her pussy begins to throb around his fingers.

They quickly disappear to be partly replaced by Mulder’s tongue as he licks her arousal, a man insatiable. Scully lets him linger until he’s satisfied, smoothing her hands across his shoulders and down his arms as he kisses his way back up her body, the first round of kisses like a trail of breadcrumbs. He drops a kiss on each of her stiff nipples before kissing the hollow at the base of her throat.

“Get up here,” she tells him, urging him back up to her lips with her hands on his biceps and a tender smile on her face.

Mulder’s done a good job of distracting her from humanity’s impending doom, but as Scully kisses him, scratching at his scalp in an unconscious effort to sooth herself through him, it all comes flooding back. She lowers her intensity, disconnecting their lips to nuzzle his face and reach between their bodies for his stiff erection.

“Scully,” he rumbles, pulling back enough to make eye contact, his hand coming up to cup her jaw and thumb her plump lower lip.

She teases his slit with the nail of her thumb and he gasps, jerking his hips, and she bites her lip and cocks her eyebrow. Scully never fails to enjoy leading him around by his dick. Mulder shifts his penis away from her hand and takes it in his own, lining them up and nestling the head of his cock in her entrance. They moan in harmony as he thrusts inside her pussy, lips tantalizingly brushing against each other, grinding his pelvis against hers.

Scully wraps her legs around his waist, holding him still to savor the moment; their breaths mingle, and time stills for a moment. “I love you, Mulder,” she tells him, voice barely carrying beyond the two of them.

He tips his forehead against hers, their eyes falling closed. “I love you, too, Scully.” Thus begins their slow unraveling.

Mulder pulls out almost all of the way and thrusts back inside her, making sure to grind against her clit. His wiry chest hair scratches at her breasts as Scully sucks in a sharp breath, his cock dragging along her G-spot with every well-angled thrust. He fucks her with ease after all these years, knows her inside and out, knows what makes her tick, how she loves it when he splays her legs wide with his hips, and how she likes his thrusts to get shallower and shallower the closer she gets to coming.

He gets the balance between dragging his cock against her G-spot from within and grinding his pelvis against her clit just right and she tenses up, brows furrowing as she feels the sensation building within her. Mulder turns his face to the side and rasps his beard along her skin, sucking a hickey just below her ear. Scully lets out a breathy moan, chest heaving against his, and digs her nails into his sacrum.

“Mulder...” she moans, pussy twitching around his cock as she fumbles her other hand beside her head, searching for his hand. “Oh...” Tears gather behind her eyelids, one escaping to streak down the side of her face as he tangles their fingers together. “Oh! Oh!” Her gasps begin to string together, legs twitching and clit pulsing as her cries gather in strength until— “Mulder!” she screams, clutching his hand as she clenches her thighs against his hips, cunt pulsing around his thick cock.

Mulder groans and kisses her, swallowing her moans and whimpers as he continues to drive into her, seeking his own imminent release. “God, you’re so sexy when you come, baby,” he says, reaching down to push her legs up a little further and really drive into her still-throbbing pussy.

“Yeah. Give it to me, Mulder,” she urges him, voice breathy. “I need it.” She purposefully clenches around him. “Come for me.”

He groans heavily and spurts inside of her, burying his dick inside of her on reflex as he nuzzles her face, pressing haphazard kisses everywhere he can reach. “Scully...” he groans, gyrating his hips in a circle to prolong their orgasms until he’s done.

They’re both left panting, damp with sweat, bodies pressed together so intimately that it’s difficult to tell where Scully begins and Mulder ends. She has no desire to disentangle them any time soon as she gently drags her fingers up and down his spine. Eventually, he picks up his head and presses a simple kiss to her chin, smiling sorrowfully down at her.

“This won’t be the end of us.”

“I believe you,” Scully admits, and for once, she’s telling the truth with no qualms or doubts to plague her.

#txf #fanfiction #mine #first pornbattle!! very happy to participate #i banged this out over last night and today #very impromptu #i hope the prompters enjoy this!!

[fatedefyd]

   ❝ so, i’m in this... weird headspace, right now. ❞  A sigh and a lightly stretch later, the young Dragon continues on, but with a lack of her usual pep.  

   ❝ like, look :  what would be considered my FIRST traumatic experience was back when i thought i had lost MK to Red Boy’s mom ; and i was sooo ready to throw hands with her there and then, too ! before i had my sword ‘n stuff, sure, but i still had a feint grasp on my ancestral power at the time ! ❞

        Mei then makes a gesture similar to that of proposing gentlemanly fisticuffs, chest puffed proudly for a moment before deflating, a hand coming to rest against her dejected face as she leans on her knee.

   ❝ then ! when i was house-sitting for my parents, i had a HUGE identity crisis  --  and my ancestors spiritually breathing down my neck didn’t help, either ! zero out of ten, do not recommend. ALSO-- having secretly been a huge part of one of the most powerful abilities is BOZO amounts of bonkers !! ❞

         Why yes, she’s still salty about how they came to that conclusion.  While Mei isn’t ready to fully forgive the very Unwise Sage for keeping such vital information from the team  --  from her, especially  --  she’s willing to be civil, for MK’s sake. 

   ❝ oh yeah, did i mention that i had my free will taken from me ? TWICE ?? definitely something i wouldn’t wish even upon my worst enemies...and just when we thought we were finally catching some kinda break ? ❞

         Hands motion around her person, almost as if she were wiping an invisible window, a look of pure disbelief on her face. 

   ❝ of COURSE, one of Monkey King’s old frienemies shows up. do you think the guy’s old Shifu, the one that taught him a lot of his stupid-powerful tricks and was probably one of the few people who knew how we could defeat that overgrown housecat, gave us any actual help ? NO !! i mean-- sure, he had some points, but we were working on a serious time crunch.. AGAIN !  --  and that’s not taking into consideration that MK is going through the identity crisis of the century ! and i just... ❞

         There’s a mild sputtering, general annoyance and anger causing her emerald streaks of hair to crackle, though it doesn’t last long.  Young warrior finally sits with her head between her legs, sword-wielding hands buried in her ebony hair, combing through her bangs in an irritated manner ; they eventually slide down to her face, pulling at her tired features. 

   ❝ i NEED a break. i need help to process aaall of this in, like, a healthy way. i had time to work things out with my parents, and i even started looking into seeing a therapist ! but it’s just one thing after another lately, and now i feel like i don’t have the right to complain about anything. Pigsy almost ate Tang, Sandy almost beat Pigsy to a pulp, and i was, once again, nearly KILLED just so that someone else could use my power for their own selfish reasons !!

   ❝  MK is learning about his past and his true identity right now, too, and i’m happy that everyone ended up mostly okay ! ... well, most of us are okay, but now.. Red Son and his family are gone, and i don’t know what i’m gonna do when we have to go and fish them out of the scroll ! this- is so-- BOGUS !! ❞

#◜mei: in character.◞ #// this is her opinions on the things she considers the Big Stuff #// if you DO rb this you dont have to match length AT ALL #// thiswas just me going feral for a few hours #long post tw //

[fritoley]

Warrior’s Honor - Part 15

Fandom: The Dragon Prince Characters: Emelyn, Carmell, Millie Word Count: 962 Previous // Next Warrior’s Honor Masterlist

***

Carmell awoke with a start, a shutter of the open window snapping her out of her slumber. She sat up in her bed, staring at the other side of the room, wondering why she had a dark feeling in the pit of her stomach. Then again, that feeling was always there.

She looked out towards the open window frame repeatedly hitting the opposite wall. Carmell climbed out of bed and pulled the curtains aside, looking outside to see the early rays of sunlight rising above the castle. With a cleansing breath, she closed the window, changed into a clean set of work clothes, and tied her white-streaked ginger hair into a braid. Fiddling with the apron strings behind her back, she looked in the small mirror propped up against the wall before leaving the room.

That's when she noticed the scroll in the mirror's reflection, sitting on the nightstand.

When did that get there? Carmell turned around and gazed at the scroll quizzically. She crossed the room and took the parchment in her hand, her heart jumping at the sight of the red ribbon tying it shut. Emelyn? Carmell pulled the ribbon off the parchment and unfurled it:

Mom, You may have already heard about this, but I'm going to be away from the castle for a little bit. Gren disappeared last night, and a bunch of soldiers tried to arrest me for a crime I didn't commit. I don't know what happened to him, or where he is, but my gut is telling me Viren is behind this. He doesn't want us to find the princes, which is exactly what I'm going to do. Please lay low and don't draw attention to yourself. The last thing I need is for you to get caught up in this, too. Please stay safe. I love you. -Emelyn

Carmell stared at the letter for a moment, reading it twice, three times. Her lungs clenched in her chest, her heart pounding in her ears. Emelyn, arrested? What does she mean, Gren disappeared?!

Her face turned as red as her hair as her eyes darted toward a particular name within the letter: Viren. She inhaled sharply, the letter crumbling in her hand as she wrenched the door open and stormed down the hall.

"This is the last straw," Carmell muttered angrily, making her way to the Throne Room.

***

"Alright," Emelyn sighed, slapping her map on the ground and unrolling it with a sense of exhaustion. She had been traveling throughout the night, but now that the sun had risen, she decided to start plotting her course to find the princes. Millie waddled over and bowed, examining the labels on the map. Emelyn's horse stood at the edge of the clearing, grazing.

"You wanna help, Mills?" Emelyn asked. Millie looked up, then bobbed her head in agreement. Emelyn giggled despite herself. Her body longed for sleep, but she knew it wasn't that easy. Between the drama with the royal family and her (almost) arrest, the Crownguard was still on the lookout for any threats.

"Okay. The most obvious place to start would be the Banther Lodge, but since it's already been a whole day since the elf and princes escaped General Amaya..." Emelyn hummed in thought, wiggling a charcoal pencil between her fingers. She pulled a straightedge from her satchel, plotted a line from her current point to the Banther Lodge, and then wrote some calculations on a separate sheet of parchment. 

"I'll get there by tomorrow morning; by then, there won't be anything to find."

Emelyn combed her fingers through her bangs, sitting back and looking at the entire map. The map had the human kingdoms on the left and a complete illustration of Xadia on the right. There were diagrams of mountains, rivers, and pictures of elven and human settlements alike. If Emelyn really wanted to, she could make her way into Xadia and track down the elves' homes.

Provided she could survive an entire nation of elves and dragons wanting her dead.

Emelyn's thoughts drifted to her beloved cousin, Gren, who had given her the map in the first place. She looked at Millie to see the Golden Eagle staring sadly at the ground.

"You wondering what happened to him, too, huh?" Emelyn asked. Millie flapped her wings and bobbed her head. Just then, Emelyn noticed something on the map that caught her attention. "Wait a minute..." Emelyn mumbled, leaning toward the map. She stared at the dot labeled 'Banther Lodge' and noticed a small blue line snaked next to it, flowing toward the mountains to the east. It was the river Gren had mentioned when they were preparing to leave Katolis to look for the princes.

"When we found out that the princes were being held hostage by a Moonshadow elf," Gren explained hours before his disappearance. "They took a boat and floated down the river near the Banther Lodge. We should start there, see what we can find."

Emelyn's eyes widened with excitement. "The river!" she exclaimed, scaring Millie. The bird hovered above the ground with an irritated squawk, then flew over to the other side of the map. Emelyn jabbed the river on the map with her index finger and said avidly, "What if we followed the river?!"

The Crownguard didn't expect nor wait for an answer from her feathered friend. With her new plan in mind, Emelyn rolled up the map and tied a ribbon around it, jumping with glee. "That's our path!" she cried, placing the map and tools in the satchel attached to her horse. Millie flew around and landed on the stallion's perch as Emelyn climbed onto the saddle. 

"Banther Lodge, here we come," Emelyn declared, flicking the reins and sending her horse into a full gallop.

***

Previous // Next Warrior’s Honor Masterlist Ultimate Masterlist

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#warrior’s honor #the dragon prince #tdp #tdp oc #tdp oc emelyn #tdp oc carmell #tdp oc millie #soren x oc #soren x emelyn #sorelyn #tdp season 1 #tdp book 1 #tdp book 1 moon #fanfic #fandom #writing community #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr

[finitevoid]

LOL yes stefans bangs are also unintentional it just grows like that. he has particularly hard to manage hair as a lion branded on a budget. and he wants his hair guy long and loose so

soren is less resentful against micaiah than he is against most people and generally understands. he only gets frustrated when its at the forefront when micaiahs like Oh no what if they find out about my secret :(. Have some tact you war criminal (shes a little out of touch all her friends are beorc,)

side note micaiahs yet another person for stefan to lose his shit at for dating beorc

as for stefans hair soren actually laughs at stefans suffering. at the end of the day stefan makes no effort to hide so whats it matter to soren that his hair grows like that its just another cruel irony for them both to laugh at like the insane people they are. stefan is not beating the beorc passing allegations. he probably goes around finding any excuse to lift his hair

sorens intersex but they cut th- afab. i think itd be funny for soren to deny being almedhas kid off his agab like I am not your lost son i was actually born a fucked up female. and almedhas like Yes i saw you when you were born and your case worker told me about your... situation. he is not on hormone blockers nor t because HOw and also he doesnt want to. he is one of those trans children who started presenting as male at like 6. after a while greil was like Are you sure buddy and soren went Shut the fuck up and greil was like Alright im not going to discuss this ever again and pretend this isnt real. And it was never discussed again in their household. if he respects sorens autonomy more than mists then ... not transphobic?? maybe if mist transitioned. greil kind of just wants to forget this is a thing about soren. in the end hes half housing a branded kid so hes progressive enough for soren

he looks like a girl but his voice is deep so passing wise he could go either way. which is believable enough for him to not be perceived as a queer girl but is instead seen as a very queer fairy boy after he insists hes a guy. people have trouble believing hes a guy until an adult refers to him as one. he is frequently called a faggot and not always for ike lover reasons. his passing is also kind of carried by ike calling him a guy. he is marked as a guy in the school system but not for other legal documentation. his foster parents were you know. his temporary parents and knew everything but once in the group home his case worker carefully introduced him as a guy to staff

I forgot pelleas. i dont feel like getting creative with how almedha couldve mistaken him for her son in the age of documentation and dna testing so hes just an 18 year old orphan trans guy out of hs she projected onto before finding soren (this way she can see him as her little girl). she was very weird with him. they were coworkers at chipotle. almedha fucked off to pittsburgh as soon as she found her little soren though rip pelleas he was kind of into having a mom

THERE IS A REYSON. HES THERE... ITS HIS MODEL

There is no reyson did I post reyson model in reply to one of your asks or something?? Certainly not recently

I’m so glad soren is chill and they are all chill with each other and they laugh about the irony. Soren can’t get mad at her for dating a beorc but stefan is like COME ON. BOTH OF YOU???? and that’s awesome

As far as anyone knows soren is just a guy who kind of looks like a girl and that’s why he gets called slurs see that’s so deep. Also ike says he’s a guy. Jokes on them he’s a guy And he’s gay. Sad

almedha chose pelleas as her surrogate son based entirely upon his hair and eye color looking like ashnard and then when she met Soren was like :0 because he looks like her (except white)

#teddie tag

[fxcknxzis]

but like. what if i cut myself bangs

#a friend of mine (who also has curly hair) cut herself bangs last year and it looked so good!!! #and i havent done anything new to my hair since 2017 when i wanted to get a bob #and the lady cutting my hair just cut all my hair to the same length #and didnt consider the fact that it has different curl patterns #so i looked like a stupid poodle for ages until it grew out again #and i recently got some hair cutting scissors and i started cutting the ends off myself bc my past experiences with hairdressers sucked #but everyone is against me cutting myself some bangs #my love was like my aunt is a professional hairdresser if you want bangs so badly shes gonna cut them #but i dont want to have anyones relative cutting my hair again #and my mom is generally against me having bangs (or long hair in general but i looked like a boy for the majority of my life and itS MY HAIR #but yeah. what about bangs #personal

[obsessedasusual]

A Beautiful Night in the Neighbourhood - Tig Trager x Reader

Pairing: Tig Trager x Reader

Warnings: Smut, swearing, pining... the whole sh-bang!

Summary: You decide to take Tig up on his oh so generous offer, kinda.

Note: I loved the dynamic with these two so had to add to the story. It's cliche, it's self indulgent. I love this curly headed mess.

It had been a number of weeks since Tig had joined you for dinner. You’d seen him quite a bit since then. Being neighbours you couldn’t really avoid him even if you had wanted to. You hadn’t taken him up on his offer of “breaking your dry spell” and he hadn’t mentioned it again.

You had tried to put the idea out of your mind, tried to forget it completely. But some nights were extra lonely and unfortunately, as sad as it was, your favourite battery-operated boyfriend didn’t always provide the heat you craved. Those were the nights you let your mind wander and your imagination run wild.

There was no time for that tonight however, you were busy slaving away in the kitchen, cooking up a storm for your son’s seventh birthday tomorrow. How the hell is that kid seven already? If you thought about it too hard you’d surely end up spilling a few tears, which is part of the reason why you didn’t mind Tig letting himself in, helping himself to a beer from your fridge and hovering around you in the kitchen like a God-damned pest.

“Tig, I swear to God if you swipe anymore cake batter I’ll choke you with it.” Alex was in bed hours ago. If he went to sleep early he wouldn’t have to wait as long for his party, your reasoning was more than enough to get him zooming to his bedroom.

“I take my job very seriously, Y/N,” he had made himself ‘chief taste tester’, “You could’ve had me as security. This is on you.”

That had been a conversation from earlier, “No one’s gonna try anything with a Son guarding the door,” “Tig, who the fuck is gonna try something at a seven year old’s birthday party?”

You pushed Tig away from the sweet treats that decorated the counter and set him the job of cutting the ingredients for the pizzas – yep, you were the mom that went all out for special occasions.

A little while passed and you soon found yourselves studying the cake you had just finished icing.

“Well… it’s not, not a motorbike.” The curly haired man offered. You let out a defeated laugh and dropped your forehead against Tig’s shoulder.

“That was harder than the video said it was gonna be.”

He wrapped his arm around you, lightly pulling you closer to press a kiss to your head while you ignored the twist of your stomach, “I’m kidding, doll, it looks great.”

“You’re so full of shit, Trager.” You giggled, pulling away.

The next day the party came and went in the blink of an eye and by the time the last kid had gone home, you were asleep on your feet.

Tig had made an appearance as promised to your son until he had been called away on ‘club shit’, but not before gifting Alex a water gun and leaving with a wink and a smirk. Naturally a water fight among the kids had followed, the parents becoming the victims caught in the crossfire.

You set about cleaning the mess in peace. Your sister had turned up from Lodi with your nephews in tow, and when it came time for them to head out, the three cousins begged and pleaded to let Alex stay with them for the night. You hadn’t been quick to agree, wanting to spend the evening with your son, but your sister worked some of her charm on you and before you knew it you were waving them off down the road.

You looked at what was left of the mess and sighed. There was a lot of food leftover, too much for you and Alex to take care of before it went bad, looks like Tig’s getting some leftovers.

Tig opened the door barely a second after you knocked, causing you to startle and almost drop the containers you were balancing in one arm, “Jesus, Tig. You waiting for me or something?’

“Sorry, doll. Saw you walking up from the window. Whatcha got there?” he reached forward to grab the containers and turned to walk back into his house. You rolled your eyes and followed.

“There was so much food leftover, no way me and the kid would get through it.”

He cracked open one of the containers he had sat on the bench and shot you a smile when he saw the variety of food inside, “I’m gonna put a ring on that finger one day.”

“Can’t wait.” You giggled.

“What? Don’t wanna marry me?” he stepped closer to you, his stupid smirk refusing to leave his face. You smirked right back, spotting his gaze flick down to your lips, back up to your eyes and to your lips again.

“Don’t think you could handle me, Trager.” You joked, stepping past him to grab the containers and get them in the fridge. When you turned back you found yourself looking directly at Tig’s chest, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. You lifted your head and saw he was already staring down at you.

“I could handle you just fine, baby.” His voice was low, one hand raising to brush your hair behind your ear.

You found yourself holding your breath, waiting and wanting, “Tig-“

He cut you off by dipping his head and capturing your lips in a soft kiss, testing the waters.

When he pulled back he kept his hands at the back of your neck and looked down at you, but your gaze was only on his lips.

He was almost hesitant, bringing his lips to yours again. You had to admit that you were a bit hesitant yourself, not because you didn’t want it to happen, but because you hadn’t expected it to happen in the first place, and because you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself if Tig suddenly pushed you away

But he didn’t push you away. Once he realized you weren’t pulling to get away from him, he pulled you impossibly closer and moved his lips gently against yours.

When his tongue lightly moved across your bottom lip is when you snapped back to reality and all but threw yourself at him. Your arms wound around his neck, one hand sneaky into his hair and you gripped it, making him grunt into your mouth.

It was messy, there was nothing delicate about his kiss anymore and you found yourself wanting more. His tongue fought yours as he moved one hand to your waist and squeezed. You jumped and let out a small squeal at the feeling causing Tig to pull back and stare at you, “You ticklish, doll?”

You shook your head quickly, humming out a mm-mm in protest and tried to pull him back to meet your eager lips. He happily obliged and gave you another wet kiss before squeezing at your waist again, “Tig!”

“You are so.” He was chuckling at you now as moved back to capture your mouth. The hand left your waist and slid down to grab a handful of your ass through your jeans, causing you to moan out against him.

“More.”

“More, baby?” his mouth moved from your lips, trailing kisses along your jaw before settling on a spot wear your neck met your shoulder, working at it until he was certain there’d be evidence of him tomorrow. Taking his reward in the form of your soft moans. And fuck, did he want to hear more of those.

You couldn’t believe how hot and bothered you were from only making out. You knew it had to do with more than just your dry spell, it was the man you were with, “I need you, Tig. Please.”

He pulled your hips flush against his and you could feel all of him through his jeans.

“You need me, baby?” He pulled back and leant his forehead against yours breathing heavily. “You sure you want this?”

You didn’t hesitate for a second, nodding against him, “Yes. Please.”

He gave you another heated kiss, murmuring against your lips, “Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

He hummed, “What do you want from me hmm?”

You stared at the floor mumbling to yourself.

“Can’t hear ya, doll. Look at me. What do you want?”

“Jesus Christ okay! Fuck me, Tig. Please just-“ he cut you off with a searing kiss, leaning down to grip your thighs as you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist. The two of you hit into the wall a few times as he stumbled you to his bedroom blindly, refusing to disconnect your lips.

You fell against a soft bed and immediately shed your top, Tig taking this moment to take in the sight before him, “Fucking gorgeous.”

You smiled at him, grabbing at his collar and pulling him in for another kiss, unbuttoning his shirt as you did so.

He made quick work of discarding your jeans somewhere in the room, his following suit. Kissing you softly he trailed his down your stomach rubbing you gently over your underwear, causing you to moan out in relief, “Yeah, baby?”

You let out a small whine as he applied more pressure, nodding and trying to grind back against his hand.

Tig was achingly hard at this point, completely driven by how you responded to his touch, how much you wanted him. He moved to rid you of your bra and straight away his mouth went to your chest, biting softly. Your underwear was next to go. Tig let out a groan when he saw how wet you were for him, “Can I taste you, baby?”

Christ, if it had been a year since you last had sex, it must’ve been closer to two since someone last went down on you.

“Please, Tig.” And with that he pressed the first kiss of many to your core, moaning obscenely at the first taste.

Your moans were constant as you writhed against his mouth lapping at your clit, “Jesus… fuck, Tig.”

At one particular hard suck your hand flew to the back of his head and you tried to pull him closer, grinding as best you could against his face. Tig could feel your body tense up as he drew you closer to your peak.

“Taste so good, baby. You gonna cum for me, Y/N?” it was the first time he’d called you by your name that night and that way it sounded, God you could have it on repeat for a week.

Tig ran his tongue over you, again and again, finally deciding to take you over the edge and sealing his mouth around your clit and sucking.

“Yes Tig, please. So close. Gonna… uh!” The grip you had on his hair tightened remarkably and he let out a deep moan against your core, the vibrations are what got you to the finish line. You came with a loud cry, hips rocking against his mouth, riding the feeling as long as you could. His tongue kept going at your oversensitive nub until you were all whimpers and kicking at his shoulder, needing to catch your breath.

His lips left your core and he moved back up and in for another heated kiss, you could taste yourself on his tongue and fuck if it didn’t make the situation hotter.

He wrapped your legs around his waist and held you steady to grind his hips into yours, moaning at your naked heat through his boxers, “You feel how hard you make me, baby?”

You reached lower to tug his boxers down, wrapping your hand around his length, he let out a muffled fuck and thrust into your hand.

When he finally pushed into you were both lost in a world of pleasure. Thrusting, kissing, biting, you couldn’t keep up even if you tried. All you could do was grip his hair and lose yourself in the feeling. So this is what you had been missing? Damn.

Somehow, Tig knew exactly how make you feel what you wanted to feel, how to bring you to the brink and hold you there until he was well and ready. You could feel him everywhere. His hands, his mouth, reaching anywhere they could. His grunts pushed you further into bliss and you soon found yourself falling over the edge at high speed, unable to form coherent sentence. Tig groaned at the feeling and thrust harder, losing his rhythm as he now chased his own high.

He came with a broken moan, right in your ear and collapsed on your chest, completely out of breath.

You stayed in that position for what felt like forever, and for that time you just enjoyed the weight on top of you.

Tig placed a sweet kiss to your neck and then your jaw, pushing himself up slightly to capture your lips. You sighed into the kiss, content. He pulled back to rest his forehead against yours and gave you a smirk.

“You good, baby?”

You nodded your head lightly, nose brushing along his, “So good.”

His smirk widened to a smile, giving you another hard kiss before rolling off you and pulling you to his side, “Just so you know, now I’ve had you in my bed. There’s no getting rid of me.”

“Getting clingy already, Tiggy?” you teased, tracing shapes on his chest.

Tig barked out a laughed, pressing a kiss to your hairline, “You have no idea, baby.”

#tig trager x reader #soa #sons of anarchy #tig trager #sons of anarchy imagine #curly hair #blue eyes #can only be one guy #tig trager imagine

[skepticbeliever-bookclub]

What are your personal favourite fics? :D

Great question! A perfect excuse for us to reach out to our members and ask them for their personal favourites and thanks to our collective recs, we're about to unravel a list of some real gems for you and hopefully therein you'll find a few favourites of your own.

want you in my room - beethechange | E, 13k, Complete

As they watch, Tall Guy takes his beanie off, revealing a mess of thick, shiny brown hair. He runs his hand through it to shake out the hat hair and Ryan feels like he’s stuck in an Herbal Essences commercial, except he’s the one making inappropriate lustful noises.

Ryan adjusts his snapback, determined. He is, after all, wearing his very finest basketball shorts, without even a single hole at the hem, and the knowledge puts an extra spring in his step. “I’m gonna climb that dude like a tree,” he tells Curly.

guidance for sailors, lost at sea - varnes | T, 6.2k, Complete

“I’m not the mom,” Shane says, drowsily appalled.

Ryan raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t say you were the mom,” he soothes, sincere in the way that Ryan kind of always is, even when he’s being sarcastic. “I just said they reacted to you as if you were the mom.”

“It’s -- that’s the same thing,” Shane protests, but quietly, because he has a tiny ghost perched on his hip and he doesn’t want to wake her. It. Whatever. It’s kind of hard to tell, because they don’t look like people, exactly, more like -- outlines.

Actually, ironically, what they really look like is people covered in sheets, round at the top and kind of vague at the bottom, but Shane has stopped trying to say that because Ryan gets mad about it. He thinks it’s disrespectful.

Shane thinks it’s disrespectful that he was made step-parent to a bridge full of baby ghosts without anybody asking him, but sure. Pointing out that they look like sheets is the problem.

You can run away with me anytime you want - PhyllisDietrichson | E, 12k, Complete

But sometimes Ryan scrolls through Shane’s instagram when his socials go quiet and their text convo takes a long pause and Ryan knows it’s because Shane is off camping somewhere, and Ryan can’t deny that he feels the tug of his absence.

we were wrecks before we crashed into each other - uneventfulhouses | E, 24k, Complete

Cleo’s smile is soft. “Shane told me his memory. What’s yours?”

“Less about memories,” Ryan says truthfully. “More about the future. Where we’ll be and such.”

Arching a brow, she drops her arms, so she clasps her hands in front of her hips. “Where do you think you’ll be?”

Ryan laughs. “Dunno.” He isn’t brave enough to say that he does know that Shane will be there, somewhere, wedged between the regular, the obtuse, the breathtaking, the wild. The generic and the extraordinary. The weird and the wonderful.

or; this week on Weird and/or Wonderful World, Shane and Ryan visit a record shop.

Hold Your Breath, It Gets Better - beethechange | E, 10k, Complete

Ryan stops short in the doorway of his bedroom, banging his shoulder against the doorframe in his haste, because he’s too late. Shane’s kneeling in front of the bottom drawer of his bedside table, peering down at the contents, hand frozen in a hover like he’d been about to reach in. His face is a blank mask.

“Ah. I keep the batteries in the top drawer. Not. Not the bottom one.”

“Yes,” Shane says, cocking his head to the left in puzzlement, and then he pauses for a fraction of a second too long as he considers his words. “I can see that the batteries are not in the bottom drawer.”

darling it’s a faded notion - varnes | E, 28k, complete

The sun is too bright and Ryan’s whole body is alight with something that is eating him all the way up from the inside out, but he keeps his eyes open and he makes himself look, and he tells himself that once he finds Shane, he’ll think about it. Once he finds Shane, they’ll make a plan. Once he finds Shane, and only then, he’ll let himself have the thought he’s been swallowing down like bile since he came to: that they didn’t fall.

They were pushed.

OR: Ryan and Shane get cursed by a ghost, and now they can’t be not-touching. It’s … not great.

open all your doors - apologeticallybourgeois | E, 8k, Complete

Shane was almost sure that Ryan didn’t actually cast a spell for it to happen, if only because the price he’d have to pay would probably be counted in, like, human limbs instead of a couple of small animals.

The Leading Man - breathtaken | E, 95k, Complete

All things considered, he could definitely do a lot worse than this: a performer-owned and -operated, queer-positive, crossover film studio, promising creative input right from day one – directing, cinematography, [...] it’s everything he wants.

He just has to get his dick out for it.

Euneirophrenia - orphan_account | T, 4.7k, Complete

Euneirophrenia: The peace of mind that comes from having pleasant dreams

Maelstrom - liminalweirdo | E, 40k, Complete

Here’s the thing about driving halfway across the country to see someone. You can’t really deny, after that, that you’re pretty much head over heels for them.

The Denial Twist - beethechange | E, 35k, Complete

“This is kind of surreal,” Shane says, taking a sip of his tea. It’s piping hot and delicious, except it tastes like hot chocolate and not like tea at all. “Sort of—Wonka-esque, right? Or Alice in Wonderland.”

“If you’re aiming a shot over the bow about my height you can fucking forget about it,” Ryan says, watching with interest as Shane’s cup refills by itself. “But yeah, it’s surreal. Literally, because dreams aren’t real.”

Shane’s unsettled by the comment. It sets alarm bells ringing in his head but he doesn’t know why. He just wasn’t expecting Dream Ryan to be so, well—so on the nose.

Or, the one where Shane and Ryan have some really weird dreams and perhaps, eventually, some sex.

Collide - needywitch | E, 35k, Complete

Ryan is desperately in love with his best friend.

what's the point of this again? - touchinghearts | T, 9.3k, Complete

When Ryan invites Shane back for a holiday week to meet his family during a big reunion, it doesn’t even occur to Shane that it could be a big deal.

Lost a fic? Check out our fic found tag, and if you still can’t find it, send us an ask!

#shyan #shyan fic #otp: we took an oath #skeptic believer #fic found #rec list

[inkykeiji]

day 3 ❅ you are my home, my home for all seasons

don’t cry snowman, don’t you fear the sun, who’ll carry me without legs to run?

day two ❅ day three ❅ day four | series masterlist

characters: todoroki touya | dabi ft. todoroki natsuo

genre: smut + angst

notes: WAAAAH okay listen i swear to god this was not supposed to be as long as it is. uhhhh just over half of this is smut, pls pay attention to the warnings below n stay safe! <33 | title credit: snowman by sia

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), one (1) non-graphic fist fight, tense family dynamics, generally toxic relationships, size difference, drug use, threesome, rough sex, cumplay/snowballing, a hint of mindbreak, slight dacryphilia, slight degradation

words: 7.7k

synopsis:

And the way his eyes glitter as he gazes at you, the way his fingers trace your jaw and then smooth down your hair, melts all of the anxiety and anger that had been building in your chest, burns it all to ash and sweeps it away just like that, with that one look and that gentle caress.

Because his sapphire eyes hold so much love it’s almost suffocating, overwhelming in the best way, has you endlessly craving more, more, more; and his soft touches speak volumes, rough hands scarred and stained with blood he’ll never be able to wash off, so tender when they touch you like this.

I think…I think he really loves her.

And suddenly, none of it matters anymore, Fuyumi’s words and Rei’s worry no longer holding any weight. All that matters is that you love him, and he loves you, and that’s all you need.

    ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅    

It storms, the day of December 23rd; a nasty blizzard that has the wooden shutters banging against the outside of the cabin, harsh gusts of air rattling the glass windows as it viciously hurls snow and ice against them.

“God, you can’t see fucking anything!”

“Language, Natsuo,” Rei chides softly, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she stares out at the white, at the nothingness, just endless swirls of deceptively pretty snow, being tossed in every direction by fierce winds.

“We can’t even see the cars, and they’re only a few feet away!” Fuyumi whines. “So much for tubing today,”

“That’s alright,” Rei says, forcing her lips into a smile as she turns towards her children. “We’ll just have to find other ways to entertain ourselves, that’s all,”

And not one of you misses the uneasy trembling in her voice.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

“Up,”

Black obscures your vision for a moment as Touya tugs his shirt over your head, a shiver coursing through your body as your skin is exposed to the cool air of your shared bedroom.

“You cold?” Touya teases, tweaking a peaked nipple.

“Niichan!” you whine, swatting at his hand, blood rushing to your face, cheeks tingling with embarrassment.

“Cute,” Touya smirks, the tips of his fingers caressing a burning cheek before he turns away, rooting through a drawer and looking for your dress today. “It’s adorable that you’ll let me stick my cock in you, or fuck your throat, or coat you entire body in cum, but you still get embarrassed by those little things,”

He turns back to face you with a stupid, goofy smile on his face, though his eyes are shining with mirth, and you can’t help the soft giggle that bubbles past your lips, sprinkled throughout your shy little shut up, niichan!

It’s routine at this point, your actions entirely automatic as your naked body slides off the bed, Touya kneeling to pull a fresh pair of panties—lavender today, trimmed with lace and ribbon—up your legs, lips scattering a few kisses along your thigh as he does so. Arms raise into the air, almost expectantly, as Touya straightens up again, slipping a long sleeved babydoll dress over your head—crushed velvet and plum purple, this time—helping pull your arms through before smoothing it down your body.

Stepping back to assess you, to admire you, Touya dusts his hands together. “Do you think you can pull on your tights by yourself today?”

Your eyebrows furrow, but you nod anyways. Of course you can, you’re a big girl, you know.  

“Perfect.” He turns on his heel. “Then, I’ll be back,” he tosses over his shoulder casually, as if there isn’t a blizzard raging outside. “Stay put, yeah?”

“Wait, what?” tiny finger curl in the material of his sleeve, tugging a little. “You’re going out in that?”

“Just for a moment—”

“Niichan!” the honorific comes out as a gasp, your hand smacking his bicep. “Do you have a deathwish?”

“Baby,” he begins, gently taking your face between two large palms, voice supercilious as if speaking to a child. “I need to smoke, or I’m going to crawl out of my fucking skin, do you understand? Natsuo’s gonna come,”

“I wanna—”

“No.” he says instantly, eyes flashing, your body instinctually cowering from his tone. “I’ll only be a minute, I promise,” he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Relax, it’s just a little snow! I want you to sit here like the perfect little good girl you are, and not move until I come back, okay?”

Lips pulling down into an involuntary frown, you nod in his grasp, watching him go with a little pout. It’s only after you hear the backdoor slam, pulled shut by the sheer force of the wind, that you hear them.

“He’s got her entirely brainwashed!” Fuyumi’s muffled voice carries through the walls.

“I’m not quite sure that’s it,” Rei responds, trying to gently reason with her daughter.

“Oh my God, what are you talking about!”

You creep off the bed, springs squeaking under your weight.

“Fuyumi,” Rei sighs, and you imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose. “When’s the last time you saw Touya smile like that? When’s the last time you saw your older brother this happy?”

Bare feet make the softest little pad…pad…pad… against the hardwood as you tiptoe towards the door.

“Mom…” Fuyumi trails off, her voice softer when she speaks again. “It doesn’t make it right, though,”

The brass knob turns slowly, carefully, silently, and you pull the door open just a crack, just enough to push your ear close to the sliver and listen.

The master bedroom is at the end of the hallway, but the door is wide open, their voices floating through the vacant corridor.

Rei responds after a beat of silence. “Would he stop even if I told him to? Is it even worth the fight, at this point?”

And she sounds so sad, so defeated that it drives a dull, throbbing ache deep in your chest, a hand coming up to press against your body, trying to quell it.

“I think…” Rei trails off, and your breathing halts. “I think he really loves her,”

Her words probably shouldn’t inspire such wicked sparks of joy that shoot through your veins and up your spine, but they do, and you have to press your lips together to keep a giddy smile from spreading across your face. So other people do see it.  

“Oh God, give me a break, he’s—”

“I’m serious, Fuyumi,” Rei cuts her off sharply, voice curt. “I haven’t…He’s never stayed with someone for this long, never cared about anyone as much as he cares about her—you can see it in his eyes,”

“But—But she’s his sister, mom!” Fuyumi cries. “It isn’t okay!”

“Keep your voice down,” Rei scolds, sounding exasperated. She’s quiet for a moment. “You’re right. It isn’t okay. But I…” her voice fades, and you think you hear sniffling, the thought stinging your own eyes. “I can’t take that from him, Yumi, I just can’t,”

A tense silence settles, and you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears, body rigid and tight as you wonder if the conversation’s over.

“She doesn’t deserve that, you know. He doesn’t, either,”

Fuyumi’s words, murmured so quietly you have to strain to hear them, light a ferocious fire in your chest, sending scalding fury burning through your veins. How dare she!

Your teeth grind together, hand gripping the doorknob so tightly it begins to jiggle. How dare she insinuate that Touya doesn’t deserve your love. How dare she imply that he isn’t capable of loving, when she barely knows a goddamn thing about him.

Sparkling cobalt flashes through your mind, accompanied by that pearly, lopsided smile and that thoaty, syrupy voice that’s always dripping with just a touch of indifference, and your heart swells.

Touya takes care of you better than anyone ever has in your entire life. Touya makes sure you’re well fed, well groomed, well dressed. Touya ensures your final year university assignments get done in a timely manner, buys you whatever you want, whenever you want it. Touya provides for and cares about and loves you.

How dare she pretend as if she understands any of that, as if she knows anything about your relationship at all, as if it’s any of her damn business in the first place.

“What about her father? What does he think about this whole situation?” Fuyumi asks a few moments later, when it’s clear Rei isn’t going to respond, capturing your attention again, jaw clenching.

Another deep sigh, one that surely has her chest heaving with the force of it, echoes down the hallway. “He refuses to talk about it any time I try to bring it up, so I’ve stopped trying. He’d rather just…not know, I guess, ignore it and pretend it doesn’t exist, and just look away. I don’t—I don’t think he can bear the thought, so he just…doesn’t.”

Exhaustion is heavy in your step-mother’s voice, weighing down her words and diminishing the flames raging in your chest to smoldering embers, hand relaxing its grip around the doorknob.

“If that were me and Natsuo—”

“That’s enough,”

“Or me and Shouto—”

“I said, that’s enough, Fuyumi.” Rei snaps, and you flinch—in all the years you’ve known her, you’ve never heard her use that tone of voice. It’s unusual, unfamiliar, unsettling.

Heavy footsteps begin stomping up the stairs, cutting off your thoughts, and you yelp softly, scampering back towards the bed. Touya pushes through the door a moment later, eyebrows knitting as azure eyes dart from your untouched tights, still sitting neatly folded on the bed where he placed him, to your bare legs, then drifting up to your face.

“Why aren’t your tights on, princess?” he tilts his head, a smile playing at his lips, more relaxed now that he’s smoked. “Willfully misbehaving? Or are you not such a big girl after all?”

And the way his eyes glitter as he gazes at you, the way his fingers trace your jaw and then smooth down your hair, melts all of the anxiety and anger that had been building in your chest, burns it all to ash and sweeps it away just like that, with that one look and that gentle caress.

Because his sapphire eyes hold so much love it’s almost suffocating, overwhelming in the best way, has you endlessly craving more, more, more; and his soft touches speak volumes, rough hands scarred and stained with blood he’ll never be able to wash off, so tender when they touch you like this.

I think…I think he really loves her.

And suddenly, none of it matters anymore, Fuyumi’s words and Rei’s worry no longer holding any weight. All that matters is that you love him, and he loves you, and that’s all you need.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

By the late afternoon, you’ve all begun to get antsy, resulting in Rei feeling like her kids are actual children again and wracking her mind for an activity to keep you all occupied. She decides on baking and decorating gingerbread men and then a Christmas movie marathon after dinner, gathering the family in the kitchen as her hands nervously rearrange the ingredients she’s laid out on the table.

Everyone’s already a little on edge, shoulders tense and tight any time Touya and Shouto are in the same room together, and you swear the air is electric, cracking and popping with shocks and zaps anytime one of them bristles at something the other said.

Like a storm is brewing.

The entire family works hard to keep them as far away from each other as possible, and attempts to minimize any type of contact at all: seating them on opposite ends of the table, keeping them sandwiched between moderators—family members who speak cautiously in gentle voices, who carefully and dutifully steer the conversation away from a fight—and even going as far to give each ‘group’ their own mixing bowl and baking tools.

The ingredients, however, they have to share.

It feels like a competition: who can make their dough the fastest, who can decorate their cookies the nicest, who can stay the most faithful to the recipe, who’s cookies taste the best.

And yet, none of these efforts seem to matter, because Shouto’s very presence, Shouto’s very existence, infuriates Touya to no end. They clash like thunder and lightning, silent strikes of white-hot fury that you can almost see flashing through the air—Shouto snickering quietly, or making some snide comment muttered under his breath, or reacting to something Touya does with a roll of his eyes or a scoff—followed by a clap of menacing thunder; rumbling—a tremorous growl deep within Touya’s chest; and roaring—the way his deep voice booms through the space; and rolling—his hand clutching you: your hand, your thigh, your wrist, anything he can latch onto to keep him grounded, to keep him sane.

It only continues to build as the day progresses, explosive magma rising higher, and higher, and higher with each spiteful word spit through clenched teeth, each ridiculing laugh ringing out around the room, each malicious look shot in the others direction, until it finally erupts, spouting blistering lava that scorches everything in its path, that seeps through the cracks, beginning to corrode that mask Shouto has been steadily chipping away at.

It was bound to happen eventually—no matter how hard any of you had tried to pretend, you had all known it. It had only been a question of when.

The answer to that question, apparently, is after dinner.

You aren’t even sure how it began, exactly, busy washing dishes with Rei in the kitchen, but your blood runs cold when you hear Natsuo quietly urging Touya to stop, don’t, it isn’t worth it, and Touya growling at Natsuo to let go of him, don’t fucking touch him.

Rei hears it too, of course, because the plate she was scrubbing slips from her hands and cracks as it collides with the aluminum sink, sheer panic etched into her face, wiping sudsy hands on her cardigan as she hurries towards the voices with you in tow.

Shouto’s barking out a laugh as you both round the corner—a harsh, almost piercing sound that echoes throughout the cabin, void of any humour.

“I’m not afraid of you anymore,”

And though his face is harder than marble, eyes positively glaring at his eldest brother, his voice shakes a bit.

Touya picks up on it, of course, because Touya picks up on everything.

“That so?” He asks casually with a shrug, eyes beginning to glitter as Shouto involuntarily shrinks away from him. “Shame. Whaddya say we fix that?”

Touya has always been quick, has always been seemingly one or two steps ahead of everyone else. He reaches around his body, lithe fingers running along the waistband of his jeans, and groans out a curse when his hand meets nothing—Nastuo still has his gun.

That’s fine, he shrugs a little, dangerous smirk on his face as Shouto’s eyes watch his hands with laboured breathing as fingers dip into his front pocket, curling and finding it empty—Natuso still has his blade, too.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Touya hisses, Natsuo’s words from after the snowball incident echoing through his mind. You can have these back, he had said sternly, as if speaking to a fucking toddler, when you’re in your car, behind the wheel, all packed up and ready to go Christmas Day.  

Well, that’s alright, Touya supposes, because his fists are weapons in their own right, too, aren’t they?, large hands flexing before curling into tight balls, sapphire eyes glinting in the warm light, teeth bared in a petrifying smile as he cracks his neck.

And it all happens so fast, like a cat pouncing on its prey, nothing but a blur of ivory and black colliding with crimson and cream, a mess of bruised knuckles and split lips and flowing scarlet—so much scarlet, streaming from noses and smeared across cracked picture frames, seeping through little slashes and spit from between clenched teeth.

Something shatters, someone screams, but it all sounds muffled to you, distant and far away as you stare dazedly at the mess of limbs on the hardwood floor a few feet away, watching as brilliant galaxies of periwinkle bloom rapidly on smooth skin, and everything feels numb.

Natsuo manages to catch Touya, receiving an elbow to the stomach in the process as he hooks his arms under Touya’s and hoists him off of their baby brother. Shouto leaps to his feet, ready to lunge at his now incapacitated brother, but your father grabs him before he can, holding him back, arms wrapping around him in an iron grip.

The softest sob sounds, all eyes snapping towards it.

Rei stands with her arms wrapped around herself, gleaming grey eyes darting between her eldest and youngest, and everything stills.

“You leave my sight for two seconds—” she starts, blinking hard as fat tears roll down her cheeks, the rest of the sentence getting lodged in her throat. “Two seconds, a-and—and you—I am so—so—”

She’s unable to force the words through her trembling lips, but she doesn’t need to.

I am so disappointed in you.

Natsuo’s able to haul Touya off to the first floor washroom, curses still spewing from your niichan’s lips as he thrashes against his brothers grip, volatile and malignant and stuffed full of hostility, his rough voice breaking with them. His eyes look glossy, and you think he may even be crying, though it’s hard to tell with his aggressive writhing in Natsuo’s strong arms, muscles bulging under the thin material of his shirt.

Touya’s hands tremble as he taps out those little round pills, as white as the snow outside, a few clattering to the floor during the process. Your fingers knot together in front of your body, wringing and unwringing as you watch Touya toss several in his mouth, dry swallowing them expertly before leaning against the counter, fingers curling around the edge, exhaling a shaky breath.

“Sh-Should he be taking that many?” Your eyes dart to Natsuo, who’s propped up against the bathroom door, your forehead creased in worry. He laughs a little, coos at you as if you’re so cute for worrying about your niichan, like your niichan didn’t just down four oxys at once—before bothering to clean himself up, before bothering to do anything—and wraps an arm around your shoulder, tugging you towards him.

It’s comforting, and you automatically snuggle into the warmth, still shaken up from the events that occurred in the past twenty minutes, burying your head in his chest and inhaling, letting the palliative scent of fresh mint and lemon with a hint of blue raspberry fill your lungs.  

He needs them, Natsuo tells you in that gentle voice, in that trusting voice, his thumb rhythmically stroking your back, voice vibrating against your cheek and reassuring you that It’s alright, he’s fine, he just needs a little something to calm him down, to sedate him.

This is the best option, he promises you, stone eyes soothing and familiar when you gaze up at him, bottom lip caught between your teeth. With the snow storm happening outside and all.

He has a point, you guess. Whether you like it or not, Touya’s still undoubtedly trapped in this tiny cabin with Shouto for at least the next twelve hours.

It’s a low dose, he ensures with a kiss pressed to the side of your head, “Gave ‘em to him myself,”

You feel like you can breathe again, Natsuo’s calming words taming the irregular palpitating in your chest, soft fingers swiping across your cheeks, catching glistening tears as he consoles you.

It’s okay. He’s okay. He’ll be okay.

What Natsuo doesn’t tell you, though, is that Touya needs them in more ways than one, that Touya actually ran out of the oxys he had brought for the trip, the ones that were supposed to last him the full five days, and that Natsuo’s pulled from his personal stash to give him more, because the last thing anyone needs on top of this disaster is Touya suffering a fucking opioid withdrawal.

He leaves to check on Shouto shortly after, muttering something about shoving a few pills down his throat, too, to mellow him out.

You pretend not to hear it, rushing towards Touya the moment the door shuts, latching onto him from behind and nuzzling your face into his back, tears threatening to suffocate you again.

Touya turns in your grasp, wrapping large arms around you and squeezing you to his chest, clutching you like a lifeline as his fingers dig into your flesh, head dropping and cheek resting against the crown of your head as he repeats Natsuo’s words.

It’s okay. He’s okay. He’ll be okay—as long as you never leave him.

And you won’t. You wouldn’t. You never will.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

The movie marathon, to everyone’s surprise, proceeds as scheduled. It’s awkward, and no one actually wants to be there, but Rei’s face is still stained with tears, streaks of sticky salt decorating her cheeks, and none of you have the heart to leave her when she throws on some staticky old cartoon and collapses on one of the couches—not even Touya.

No one talks about it, either. No one talks about the shards of broken glass Fuyumi swept from the floor, or the ugly, weblike crack Shouto’s head left when it whacked off the drywall.

There’s nothing to talk about, you guess, bitterness stinging the back of your tongue, sinking in your chest, as you snuggle into Touya’s lap.

But Touya’s feeling better—Touya’s feeling good, large hands running down your bare thighs, kneading the flesh before he drags them back up, under your dress, the thick quilt draped over your lap obscuring his actions from the others.

“N-Niichan,” you whisper, turning to shove your burning face in his neck and whimpering when he chuckles lowly, a dark sound that has scalding heat pooling deep in the pit of your stomach, that has your thighs clamping together and trapping his hand.

“Shh, behave,” he murmurs into your hair, waiting for your thighs to relax before his hand continues its ministrations, creeping up, up, up until he reaches your clit, flicking his thumb over it once. A gasp spills from your lips, and Touya pinches the sensitive bud, lips at your ear. “I said, behave,”

So you do—or, you try, legs spreading wider for him, molars sinking into the flesh of your inner cheek to keep from mewling. Because that’s all you want, really—to be good for him, to be his good girl, to help him forget, to do anything you can to alleviate his stress and make him feel better.

Touya teases you for the entirety of the marathon, continuously driving you to the edge and teetering you on the cliff, tempting you with the fall, the plunge, the release, before dragging you away from it, only to repeat the process again, and again, and again. Skilled fingers have it down to a fucking science at this point, circling your clit in quick, hard motions, until your thighs are trembling and your hips are pathetically trying to buck into his touch. Such reactions are always his cue to stop, to back off, immediately slowing to unhurried figure eights, sometimes pressing his fingertips into your hole just a little through the thin cotton of your panties. And then, he waits, waits until every muscle unclenches, relaxes, until your breathing evens back out and your whines fade, decreasing in frequency, until the gentle, featherlight touches of nimble fingers against your swollen clit have almost put you to sleep, just to simply begin it again.

The bulge in his jeans strains eagerly against the denim, and it’s hard, so hard, pressed up against your thigh. Long, slender fingers catch your wrist when you try to cup it, to offer him some relief, sapphire eyes flashing as he shakes his head slowly. A deep pout etches itself into your face, you just want to help, but Touya growls in your ear, orders you to stop being a fucking brat, chest rumbling against your back.

And by the end of it, you’re covered in a glistening layer of sweat, legs quivering so bad that you’re barely able to stand, the cotton of your panties soaked all the way through and sticking uncomfortably to your aching pussy, your slick slippery on your inner thighs after having seeped through the thin material.

Everything hurts, muscles feeling like they’ve been filled with sand, Touya chuckling as he stands and stretches his hands above his head, cock still straining painfully against black denim, and murmuring about how cute you are when you’re tired.

“Tired,” Natsuo snorts with a roll of his eyes, just after the rest of your family has trudged up the stairs to get ready for bed, Fuyumi struggling to support a barely coherent Shouto.

You look over at him, head quirking curiously.

“You two were misbehaving,” he smirks, glancing between your faces self-righteously. “You were quite naughty tonight, don’t you think?”

Pricks of humiliation crawl along your skin. He noticed?

Of course he did, how could he not? His voice is sharp, stings like a slap to the face, a tone you don’t hear very often from him, and it wasn’t very fair to make him sit through that and not be able to touch, was it?

“No, it wasn’t,” Touya agrees with a shake of his head, sounding almost solemn, though amusement glitters in his azure eyes, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. I think we should make it up to poor Natsuo, princess. Don’t you?

They’re looking at you like a pair of starving jaguars, stone and sapphire eyes glinting dangerously in the hazy yellow light the little lamp provides as they prowl towards you, trapping you between their bodies and the edge of the couch.

“I-I…” your voice dies in your throat, eyes darting between the two men as your heart begins to race. You don’t know, you aren’t sure, is this even allowed?  

Then they’re laughing at you, cooing at you as their hands paw at your body, pinching and cupping and squeezing, Touya murmuring about how you’re going to help Natsuo out like a good girl while carrying you up to your shared bedroom and placing you on the bed, Natsuo following close behind, shutting the door with a gentle kick of his foot.

Then Natsuo’s crawling onto the bed beside you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I bet you look so pretty when you cum, baby,” His voice is low, rough, and it makes your stomach flutter.

His words pull an unexpected gasp from your throat and your eyes find his, blinking twice in genuine question. “D-Do you think about that?”

“Fuck,” he nearly whimpers, sharing a look with Touya, who chuckles smugly, leaning against the wall a few feet away, arms crossed casually over his chest.

“I told you,”

Forehead wrinkling as your brow furrows, your gaze darts between the two of them, unsure of exactly what it is they’re talking about.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Natsuo breathes, eyes hooded as they scan your body slowly, working back up to your face as he grinds the heel of his hand against his hardening cock. “I think about it,”

The burning deep in your belly flares at his dark stare, thighs rubbing together as you hold his eyes, sweet little pants escaping your parted lips. Make it up to him, huh?

“I wanna—” you start, looking over at Touya and swallowing thickly. “Can I cum on his cock?”

Natsuo chokes on a whine the moment the words leave your lips. “Christ, niisan, she’s gonna kill me,”

Touya huffs out a little laugh, though his eyes do not leave yours as he considers.

Usually, the answer would be no, absolutely not. Touya has always refused to share your pussy with anyone—that was his and his alone. However…

If there’s anyone he would even think of sharing it with, he supposes it would be his brother.

“You wanna cum on his cock, baby?” he asks slowly, sapphire eyes watching you sharply, analyzing every micro-expression, every twitch of your brow, every quiver of your lips.

You’re unsure if it’s a trick question or not, but you’ve learned that it’s always best to be honest with your niichan—he’d know instantly if you were lying, anyway—so you nod, sucking on your bottom lip. “J-Just once,” you add, after a beat of silence.

“I mean, it is Christmas…” Touya trails off, looking over at his brother, who’s glassy gaze is glued to your face. “What do you say, Natsuo?”

“Seriously?” his eyes fly to Touya’s, wide with disbelief, not nearly as bold as he was in the living room. “I mean—I don’t—I’m not here to overstep any boundaries—”

“I know,” Touya cuts him off calmly. “I trust you,”

Trust. That’s rare with Touya, an honour to be told, and Natsuo’s eyes soften.

“It’d be a privilege to have you cumming on my cock, baby,” he tells you, voice so gentle, so sweet, so sincere, foiling the dirty words spoken.

But your fingers are trembling, tangled in your lap, and your heart is racing, pounding against your ribcage, and your mouth is dry, throat stuffed with cotton. Blood rushes in your ears as you look over at your niichan again, worried, scared. Is this a test? Is he really allowing you to ride someone else’s cock?

A frown materializes on his face and he stalks forward, stopping in front of you and reaching out to cup your cheek and tilt your head up, thumb caressing your cheekbone as he stares down at you.

“What is it, baby?”

“C-Can I really?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. “You won’t—You won’t be mad?”

Both men coo and Touya laughs, eyes shining in the dark. “No, I won’t be mad, princess,”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he nods, hand moving to pet your hair once. “Now, come on,” he gives you a light slap to the cheek, eyes darting to the bulge in Natsuo’s grey sweatpants. “Can’t wait to see you take that monster, baby,”

Monster isn’t exactly an exaggeration.

He’s bigger than Touya—not by much, maybe an inch or so longer, but considerably thicker. The head of his cock glimmers, decorated with a pearl of precum, thick and veiny and nowhere near as pretty as your niichan’s.

“Look at her,” Touya teases from his spot across from you, now perched on the edge of the other bed. “She’s already salivating over it,”

And it’s true, at least in part, your wide eyes glued to Natsuo’s cock as endless heat gushes, throbs, between your legs, little cunt suddenly feeling very empty. Touya’s been teasing you all damn night, an intense neediness building in your chest, powerless to stop the pathetic little whine that gets caught in your throat when Natsuo shifts on the bed, rearranging himself slightly and patting his spread thighs.

“C’mere, baby,” he’s saying as you climb over him, massive hands clutching your hips as you hover above his cock. “Lemme give you what you need,”

And the high pitched moan that slips from between parted lips as you sink down onto him is nothing short of pathetic. Natsuo emits a breathless little laugh as dark grey eyes watch the way your face screws up in discomfort, little whimpers spilling from your lips as he splits you in half.

“Aw, baby,” he murmurs, never slowing his pace as he forces your hips down, down, down. “We didn’t prep you properly, did we?”

No, they didn’t, neglecting to stretch you out at all, copious amounts of your own slick the only thing aiding Natsuo’s cock as he shoves it into you.

“Your fault, you know,” he whispers in your ear as he finally bottoms out. “If you hadn’t been so greedy, so eager to hop on my cock, maybe I would’ve let’cha cum on my fingers first. But what more could I expect from a slut?”

Your eyes snap open, inhaling sharply, unused to hearing Natsuo talk with such derision, unused to the way it makes your stomach positively swoop. He’s already looking at you, a small grin on his face, and, oh, he knows.

Natsuo doesn’t afford you a second to adjust to his girth, though, immediately bouncing you in his lap like you’re just some toy for him to use, hips bucking up into you wildly, malicious laughter escaping his chest as you whimper out Hurts, Natsuo, i-it hurts, Touya snapping at you to be a good little whore and just take it.

But the stinging fades quickly, like it always does, finally yielding to that heady mix of pain and pleasure, and it feels so good, the stretch is so good, Natsuo is so good.

Natsuo snickers, berating you for your extremely limited vocabulary, and you’re so cute, all stupid and fucked out like that from bouncing on his cock—you’re so fucking easy, aren’t ya?

His degrading is punctuated by his hard thrusts, blunt nails biting into the flesh of your hips as he fucks you, as he uses you, each piston of his hips forcing you closer and closer to that edge, the one Touya has already dangled you off of so many times tonight.

Todoroki cock must really make you dumb, huh? Turns you into nothing but a drooling, senseless little cocksleeve, isn’t that right, baby girl?

You’re having trouble concentrating on anything, really, overwhelmed by sensations and sounds, by Natsuo’s steady stream of words and the smack of your ass against his thighs.

Can’t even answer me, foolish little girl, already drunk with cock and we’re just getting started.

Yes, you whine, nodding your head in lazy little jerks, pushing the word out of your slackened mouth. Yes, yes, yes!

Your skin is crawling, itching, blazing, your head lolling to the side, connecting with glowing sapphire, and you swear you can feel his gaze on your body, leaving a trail of blistering heat in its wake.

His cock is still so hard, but he doesn’t touch it, completely captivated by you. He doesn’t ever want to forget this, he tells you, unblinking eyes searing into yours, wants to see the way your face contorts in ecstasy when you cum all over his brother’s cock, wants to commit it to memory.

And it’s Natsuo’s mean, belittling words, spoken in that saccharine sweet patronizing voice paired with each rough drag of his thick cock, plus Touya’s shallow breaths, little gasps and inhales, the way his dark eyes almost sparkle as he watches you, that have you creaming on Natsuo’s cock embarrassingly quickly.

Your eyes don’t leave his, though, sapphire all you can see as your orgasm tears through you almost violently, the pulsing release almost painful after being edged for so long, little pussy aching as it clenches around Natsuo’s cock.

A pathetic little whimper slips through your lips as your body collapses against Natsuo’s firm chest, head automatically nuzzling into his neck. His cock is still so hard inside of you, twitching as your hips involuntarily shift a little. Strong hands find your waist, a patronizing chuckle blanketing you as they begin to knead your flesh.

“Idiotic little girl, we aren’t done yet,”

The words are harsh, almost spit out with that small chuckle, dripping with condescension and rolled in icing sugar—and his tone is so ridiculing, speaking to you as if you’re so dumb, so silly and God, you really do go so stupid from cock, don’t you?

Another laugh rings out—niichan’s this time, and he’s saying something—something about Natsuo’s cum filling up that empty head of yours, you think—as Natsuo roughly rearranges your pliant body, pushing your head into the mattress and yanking your hips up.

It’s hard to focus on the words being spoken, brain hazy and floating on post-orgasmic clouds, but you’re fairly sure Natsuo’s promising to make good use of your cute, empty little skull, telling you it’s the perfect little cumbucket.

But Natsuo’s arrogance fades, finally, morphs into high, needy mewls and quiet little moans, interspersed with sharp intakes of air, sucking in curses and your name as he repeatedly rams into you, thrusts growing sloppier, massive hands keeping your hips held up.

“Oh, Christ,” the curse leaves Natsuo’s throat in a pitiful whimper. And although they were talking about it, joking about it, a mere twenty minutes ago, Natsuo knows he must still get permission. “Niisan, can I—can I cum inside?”

And his voice is so whiny, as if he’s begging Touya to say yes, harsh breaths ghosting over your bare back, cool against your heated skin and mingled with little half-grunts, ones that hitch in his throat as he continues to pound into you, pace never faltering.

Desperate pleads begin spilling from your lips almost instantly, urgent and uncontrollable, brain mushy with thoughts of ice cold hands on your waist and a thick cock buried within you, intoxicated by the scent of cool mint and tangy lemon.

“Oh, please, niichan, please,” you’re sobbing into the mattress, bleary eyes squinting as they try to focus on the watery blur you assume is Touya, still seated on the other bed. “Please, want his cum, want his cum for Christmas,”

“Holy fuck,” Natsuo’s gasps out brokenly, a loud moan reverberating in his chest. “Please, Niisan,”

Touya chuckles, and if it weren’t for the slight breathlessness to his voice, you would have figured him entirely unaffected. “Yeah, fine, go ahead,” he says passively, as if it makes no difference to him. “She’s a little cumslut, anyway,”

A steady stream of overlapping, practically incoherent thank you’s flow from yours and Natsuo’s mouths, getting lost between pitchy mewls and the slap of skin against skin as his taut hips meet your ass.

“Nat—Natsuo-nii!” you cry, so fucked out that the honorific doesn’t even register in your mind, blissfully unaware in that moment that you’re older than him, little hole pulsing around his thick cock. “Natsuo-nii, please, please, give it to me,”

“Oh God,” he chokes on the words, gurgling them in his throat.

His hips piston into you once, twice, three more times, and then they’re stilling, pressed flush against you as he falls forward, sweaty chest pressed against your back, strong arms caging you in as his cock throbs, filling your little cunt with powerful spurts of thick cum.

It’s like a rush of frost through your veins, not scalding the way Touya’s cum is, sending vicious shivers skittering across your skin. It’s soothing, almost, cool and pleasant and has you pushing back against him, hips wiggling a little as you try to milk him for just a bit more. Plush lips find the back of your neck, pressing kisses along your sweaty hairline, a tongue darting out a moment later to lap at the salty substance.

He stays pressed against you for a moment more before straightening up, pulling out with a hiss and heavily collapsing back on his heels, legs tucked under himself.

“Let’s see,” Touya’s saying, as if he’s asking Natsuo to show him his homework, not to examine his brother’s cum leaking out of your aching cunt. “God, look at that,”

You whine a little, hole fluttering as Touya gently blows hot air against it, and Natsuo groans out a curse, voice raw and wrecked.

Hands—Touya’s hands, you can tell, you’re sure of it—curl around your hips, halting them from their slight swaying. A soft, surprised yelp gets caught in your throat when you feel something wet, something warm, something strong, lick along your slit.

“Aw, niisan!” Natsuo scolds, emitting an indignant sound from the back of his throat. “That’s so…That’s so…” his voice tapers off into a soft whine that has Touya chuckling against your swollen lips, the tip of his tongue flicking against your clit teasingly before he pulls back.

But, wait, that isn’t fair!

“Niichan,” you whimper, hips squirming in his loose grasp. “Niichan, want some,”

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, hands running over the smooth skin of your ass, thumb caressing his scarred name. “You want some of Natsuo’s cum, too?”

“Please,” you beg, hole clenching again at the thought. You can feel it oozing out of you, thick and cold, and hate the thought of it being wasted on the bedsheets.

You expect Touya to swipe nimble fingers along your slit and gather cum to feed you, gasping loudly when you feel his tongue on you again. The strong muscle laps at the cum trickling down your inner thigh, then it’s curling against your cunt, inside of your cunt, collecting as much of the syrupy substance as it possibly can.

A hand fists in your hair, using it as leverage to yank your head up. Your mouth falls open instantly, expectantly, and Touya lets his younger brother’s cum—now watered down with his own saliva—dribble from his mouth into yours.

Natsuo chokes something out—you aren’t sure what, you weren’t listening, hyper-focused on the way sapphire burns into your skull as cream coats your tongue—and Touya’s open mouth molds into a sinful smile, still drizzling the sticky, viscous substance into your mouth, letting his tongue hang out of his mouth as gooey strings of white drip off of it.

“Such a greedy little baby,” Touya says after he’s emptied his mouth, voice almost affectionate. “Now be a good girl and swallow. Swallow for Natsuo,”

And you do, of course, because you are such a good girl, such a good girl for Natsuo, such a good girl for your niichan.

“You guys are nasty,” Natsuo almost pants out, failing to keep the whine out of his voice, gunmetal eyes scanning your little hole, licked clean and now gleaming with Touya’s saliva. “Fuck, that was—hey, wait…What’s this?”

“About time you noticed,” Touya mutters, and your heart sinks.

You know exactly what he’s looking at.

A beat of silence passes, and you keep your head buried in the sheets, terrified to move even an inch.

“What did…Did you…?”

“Yeah, with a soldering iron,”

“Jesus Christ,”

“I deserved it,” you whine out, muffled by the mattress, guilty tears springing into your eyes. “I was—I was very bad,”

Glowing ruby and soft, fluffy tufts of silvery-blue hair flash through your mind, eyes squeezing shut tightly as stinging spears rip through your chest, straight through your heart and right to the core of your body.

No. Now is not the time to think of him. It is never the time to think of him.

A tiny sniffle escapes, your chest hiccupping with it, and you clench your teeth hard, so hard your jaw aches, in an effort to keep any other sounds from escaping. Touya hushes you, large hand warm and heavy and oh so familiar on your lower back, thumb caressing the silky skin just above the swell of your ass. You’re good, he tells you, voice quiet but firm, and you nod into the sheets.

“That is so fucking hot,” Natsuo breathes out, eyes flying to the brand again, his voice breaking you out of the reverie you nearly fell into. “Can I touch it?”

The question startles you—no one else has ever touched it except for Touya. Your mouth stays shut, body stiff and still, waiting for your niichan to make the decision.

“Sure,” Touya finally answers, your entire body flinching when Natsuo reaches out to trace the name with his pointer finger, first forward; T, O, U, Y, A, and then backwards; A, Y, U, O, T, the letters echoing through your mind in Touya’s smooth, deep voice as he does so.

“Holy fuck,” Natsuo whispers as he sits back again, the bed jiggling a little with the motion. “That’s…”

Touya gazes down at it as he blows air out of his mouth, fingers running across it slowly, feeling the slightly raised letters of his name in an almost gentle caress.

He didn’t expect it to scar as bad as it did, his name forever etched into your skin in thin silvery streaks that almost shine when the light hits them right, but you didn’t seem to mind. It’s pretty, you had told him, in that gentle soft voice that makes his chest feel as though it’s blooming its own tiny ball of sunlight. It’s yours, niichan.

He wonders what Shouto would think, if he knew, how he’d feel, if it would make his throat burn and his eyes sting and his chest stutter, if he would weep for you. Touya hopes he would.

“Mine,” he whispers, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to it, his tongue darting out and laving over the entire name once before the tip traces the letters. “Mine.”

“Yours,” you whimper, hips greedily pushing back again. “Niichan, niichan, please,”

He hushes you, tells you he’ll give you his cock now, quiet, quiet, rearranging your body so you’re on your side and bending your legs, pushing them up towards your chest and revealing your little cunt to him. Large hands drag your hips to the edge of the bed, sure to keep the ass cheek with the brand facing upward, facing him.

The gentle clinking of his belt has your toes curling in anticipation, the head of his cock nudging your little hole a moment later.

He delivers one quick thrust, burying himself in your snug little cunt in a singular motion, groaning about how you’re still so tight, how you still feel so good, even after being pounded by his brother.  

His pace is merciless from the very beginning, hard and fast and so fucking deep, pulling broken cries and rough little whimpers from your raw throat, one of his hands on the mattress to stabilize himself while the other weighs down on you, pinning you to the surface.

“Niichan!” you’re squealing, Touya’s blunt nails digging into the meat of your thigh as he uses it to steady you, large hand splayed out on your skin. “Niichan, nii-niichan, it hurts,”

It more than hurts—hurts doesn’t even begin to describe the excruciating thorns of pain intermittently racing through your upper body as he slams against your cervix, shooting straight to your core and festering in your throat. You can feel them collecting in the column, wedged tightly between the gummy walls, and you choke on them, gag on them, coughing around them as you urgently gasp in air.  

“But you can take it though, right?” he pants out, cobalt eyes wide and frenzied as they burn into your face. “You can take it, because you’re a good little slut for niichan, aren’t you?”

Salt stains the back of your throat, tears and snot mixing as you sob into the mattress, face half-buried in the rumpled sheets.

Yes, yes, oh God yes, you want to be good for him. “Uh-huh,” you breathe out, the noise stuttering past your lips in time with the quick snap of his hips.

And, fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful like this, so fucking hot, taking his cock so well when he’s giving it to you so hard.

“Good,” he gasps, eyes zeroing in on his name etched into your ass, peaking out from between his thumb and forefinger, glimmering when it catches in the pale moonlight. “So fucking good for me,”

Because you are, with your dedication, and your submission, and your pure devotion to him as he brutally fucks you, taking everything he gives you, taking it so well.

And it’s these thoughts, swirling in his mind as you gaze up at him, a mess of sweat and drool and cum, teary eyes dazedly watching him like he’s some sort of god, that have his hips stuttering, filling you with cum, thick and hot and so much, your body going lax under his grip as he chokes out how much he loves you.

Senseless gurgling bubbles past your lips as you try to move, try to roll onto your back or uncurl your limp body, whining softly when you find that you can’t. Two silhouettes loom over you menacingly, the sound of laughter and mingled voices blanketing you, murmuring words you can barely make out. Another pathetic whine hitches in your throat, tongue sluggish in your mouth as you try to speak again, losing the battle with your heavy eyelids a moment later, finally engulfed in darkness. 

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #dabi smut #todoroki touya smut #dabi #todoroki touya #there's one line of dialogue in the smut taken straight from my life no joke <33 #ok ok ok dont expand the tags unless u want a slight spoiler!!! promised anon i'd answer here so!! #this almost murdered me #deadass almost jumped out from my laptop screen and stabbed me in the heart #uuuuh YES ANON FROM BEFORE there's ur answer: rei is caught in a moral struggle and her dad would rather not know #tw pseudo-incest #tw drugs

[darkh3llscap3]

Sacrificed

Stiles x fem! Reader x Yandere! Void Stiles

A/n: This is my first Teen Wolf-related image I hope you like it. There is going to be a pt.2 and it makes everything make more sense and really makes the lovesick side show!

Warnings: Kidnapping, swearing, head trauma, angst, major character death.

Summary: When void takes you hostage he expects Stiles to give him information cause of his feelings for you.

Dylan Obrien Masterlist

General Masterlist

My hands felt strange as they felt like they were suffocating from the tight bonds connecting to the chair. My eyelids felt heavy but I kept them open with all my willpower. No matter my mind I felt myself go in and out of consciousness.

That was until I heard a voice and banging coming from in front of me. My eyes opened a bright light hitting my torso my head weakly looking straight.

Through a window, I saw Stiles with a desperate look in his panicky eyes. "Stiles?" I shudder out I felt so drained my whole body was sore.

Stiles started banging harder on the glass looking more terrified than before. I noticed his lips were forming words but I couldn't hear them. Everything started spinning again a gross feeling of panic rising in my stomach making me feel sick.

Next thing I know arms come in contact with my shoulders. Then they grasped my hair throwing it over one of my shoulders so my neck was exposed. Suddenly I could hear every word Stiles was saying.

"What do you want?" His bangs get louder causing the pain in my head to expand. This all felt like a fever dream as I shook off the feeling by squinting my eyes at him. If you looked closely you could see two of him. Were they wearing different clothes? You could even see me there was blood dripping down the side of my head and I looked so pale and weak.

I leaned my head back as it hit Stiles chest my eyes gazing on him. I knew it couldn't be him cause he was outside the window but then how is he here? How long have I been here? I'm so confused I just need to rest a little.

"It's simple I want answers and control..." He trailed off and looked down at me then smiled. His head came forward and nuzzled into my neck. His lips touched my neck as he sucked a mark onto it and pulled away from a lovesick grin on his face. "I also want her but some things need to be sacrificed." He goes back to petting my head I looked down at the binds blinking so the dizziness will go away.

"Don't you dare fucking touch her!" He screamed at him my brain tried to process this one Stiles was worried and frustrated while his... Twin? Was calm and collected behind me if you look closely he had deep circles under his eyes and a sickly pale complexion.

"What's going on why is there two of you?" I groaned out realizing how dry my throat is.

"That's not me y/n that's the nogitsune." My eyes widened my mom used to tell me stories of dark foxes that feed on chaos and destruction.

The nogitsune shushes me making my mind become a hazy mess and I continue to pet me while whispering "It's all going to be over soon in my ear." I looked up and Stiles and started to struggle in my bounds.

"Okay, what do you want to know?" He put his head down in shame he still had a scared look on his face.

"What is your little group planning?" He demanded I knew he held the power but we still shouldn't let him know this, it could put the whole pack's life in danger.

"Stiles don't you will be putting the pack's life in danger. " I whimpered out trying to get my thoughts to form good sentences.

"If I don't, he's going to kill you, I can't lose you y/n" He shook his head I knew I was a goner if the nogitsune already had its hands on me. They're a trickster spirit it's never going to let me go but I don't let Stiles know that.

A knife was placed on my throat pushing it against my neck but I kept talking. "It's okay Stiles if what the pack has in mind will get rid of the nog-" The knife pressed deeper but I still continued "This is better than risking everybody's life." The thing behind me had its hand in my shoulder his nails digging into the skin in an angry stance.

"Remember Stiles if you don't her blood will be on your hands." I shook my head the knife went deeper little trickles of blood escaped the wound. I didn't want him to blame himself.

"Stiles none of this is your fault you have to choose between lives it's difficult to do that I don't want you to blame yourself, okay?" He nodded and looked away having an inner battle with himself on what to do. The nogitsune was surprisingly silent behind me the only induction he was still here is his knife pressed against my throat and his nails in my shoulder.

"Fine if that's who you choose... " He hands swapped a clean swipe across my neck blood gushing out of my neck falling down onto my chest. Stiles looked away tears streaking his cheeks as a shocked expression was planted on his face. I desperately tried to get air to my lungs but I could only feel blood fill then. I thrashed against the bounds the pain is excruciating.

"I'll see you on the other side baby." The nogitsune whispered from behind me I felt myself losing consciousness as I noticed Stiles wasn't at the window anymore. My head fell down resting on his chest as I let the darkness creep around me fully indulge me.

#x reader #x female reader #angst #female reader #yandere #stiles stilinski #void stiles #stiles x reader x void #void stiles x reader #stiles x reader #stilea stilinski x reader #tw swearing #tw major character death #tw kidnapping #yandere void stiles #lovesick

[assaily]

I thought about saving this one, but i’ve been sharing it around for a while, so i may as well share it here, too.

Context: Allison and Diego borrow some empathy powers and use them to try and gain some insight on Five

Allison sipped her coffee for lack of anything better to do. She dallied for a time, unsure how to proceed, suddenly aware of the heavy weight that clung to them, and wondered if this was normal. It could have been exhaustion, considering the dark shadows beneath Five’s eyes. It felt deeper than just a bad night of sleep. This was what she’d been afraid of, what she was fully expecting to find and now found herself feeling diminished beneath.

“You hungry?” she asked when Five finished his coffee.

“No,” Five answered, the question hardly a blip on his radar.

“I could eat,” Diego said. Five usually said no to the offer of food unless it was put in front of him. He couldn’t resist once it was there, thankfully, so this little dance of two siblings pretending to cook for each other and secretly cooking for Five was not new. If Five himself noticed, he never said anything about it.

Allison got up from the table, snatching Five’s mug from beneath his fingers. He had been mindlessly tracing the rim and was genuinely startled from his thoughts when Allison took it from him. He said nothing, attention suddenly on her like a scalpel. She wasn’t sure if it was the power or her own imagination that made his scrutiny feel sharper than usual. She set a skillet to heat and refilled Five’s cup before taking it back to the table for him.

Suspicion burned at the hairs on her arms and she took a step back to meet Five’s piercing gaze. “What?” she asked.

“You’re being nice,” he muttered, an observation and a question rolled into one. He wanted to know why, he wanted to know what she wanted.

“Nothing,” she reassured without thinking. “I mean,” she corrected quickly when Diego gave her a sharp look. “I’m just feeling weird and you look tired. I miss my daughter,” she admitted, feeling suddenly vulnerable.

Five blinked, something swirling around them at her admittance, a little like irritation, a lot like muted affection. “I’m not your kid, Allison, you don’t need to dote on me.”

She smiled around the confusing mix dusting the room. “Refilling your coffee is hardly doting,” she replied in a daze.

He shrugged, eyes falling down from her, the sharp focus softening at last. He took a sip of the coffee and it tasted like acceptance. She turned back to the fridge, fighting a smile as she pulled the sausages from the top shelf and added them to the pan. Soon the kitchen was filled with the sounds of sizzling and the smell of food; the anxiety had eased into something quiet and tired and easy to ignore.

She whisked eggs in a bowl, added milk and cheese and cooked it in the same pan as the sausage drippings once they’d finished. She divvied the food up on three plates and set them on the table. The whole meal took her less than twenty minutes, hardly any trouble at all but it felt good to do something for them. It soured when a flood of dread and disgust spilled across the table the moment she put the plate in front of Five. Her movements stuttered, taken by surprise, hesitating to watch him spear a sausage with the fork and nibble on one end like he hadn’t felt anything.

She exchanged a look with Diego, who’d paused mid-bite to watch Five as well.

Irritation suddenly simmered between them, a striking indecisiveness between anger and the urge to flee, anxiety washing over them again. It happened so fast, her and Diego nearly drowned in it. She put her own plate down before she dropped it, and moved to sit. The scrape of the chair on the floor was like someone physically hitting her.

“Five,” she said, her voice swimming.

Diego put down his fork, food untouched, and reached across the table to put a hand on Five’s shoulder. The old man vanished in a pop of light and reappeared by the counter next to the coffee pot. He poured himself another cup, his body lax and his movements smooth in sharp contrast to swirl of indignant rage pounding at the walls.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on with you too, but I don’t want to be involved.” He took a long slurp from the coffee, turning to regard them over the rim of it. “Play your games with someone else.” And with that he disappeared in a pop of light, leaving behind the traces of bitter irritation.

-

“Maybe it was breakfast?”

“What was wrong with eggs and sausage?” Diego asked.

Allison had no idea. Five was a bit weird about food, but she supposed surviving a few decades in an apocalypse could mess with someone’s ability to have a healthy relationship with eating. He was so skinny, and seemed to get skinnier every day. It was a challenge getting him to eat.

“Maybe he doesn’t like them.”

“Does Five like anything?” Diego asked. “Besides coffee.”

“Fluffernutters,” Allison said. It was the only thing she’d ever seen him choose for himself, besides the time he pilfered all the canned peaches from the cupboards and Klaus found them stashed under his bed. “Fruit?”

For lunch Allison asked Mom to chop up a fruit salad. Five emerged from his room around eleven a.m. like clockwork, usually for coffee. He arrived in the kitchen through one his rips, immediately splashing the room with an emotion that tasted like gunmetal. Allison couldn’t describe it other than dark, sardonic, and irritable. It twisted with the bleeding rawness she had felt earlier. 

Five stopped in the doorway, dread spilling forth when he saw her and Diego waiting for him. And he knew they’d been waiting, she could feel him realize it, suspicion mixing with the dread. He scowled at them, a classically abrasive Five expression that she wouldn’t have blinked twice at yesterday.

It was surreal feeling the tumult underneath it.

Five went for the coffee. “Is there a reason you two are still here?”

“We live here,” Diego said.

“Don’t you have a job?” He said to Diego, voice and intonation both sharp and accusing.

“It’s my day off.”

“So you spend it sitting around the kitchen? What a productive use of your time.”

“Oh yeah?” Diego asked, temper flaring predictably. “What do you do around here all day? Huh?”

A bitterness, dark and sharp, encased the room like tar, bubbling with frustration and a delicately muted rage that felt utterly ancient. There was something there Allison wasn’t quite seeing, something deeper than whatever foul mood he was in.

“Why are you mad, Five?” Allison cut the tension like a knife, going against the grain.

“I’m not angry,” Five said, most definitely defending himself.

“You came down here and immediately started picking a fight,” she pointed out, watching his eyes dart from her to Diego and back again, caught out. 

He scoffed, glancing down at the coffee cup in his hand, and she felt him switch at the realization. “Oh,” he said, folding inward on himself. Anger still shimmered off him, but it felt like he was trying to pull it back in, drink it down with the bitter burn of coffee in his throat. “The math is being uncooperative,” he gestured above his head in the general direction of his room several floors above them.

“Well you don’t have to take it out on us, you ass,” Diego said, his voice forgiving despite his words.

Shame descended like a fog, settling like an ache against her breast bone. She gestured at the table, desperate to dissipate that cloud. “Mom made fruit.”

Five glanced at her from beneath his bangs but latched onto the change in subject. “Made, huh?”

“She didn’t ‘make’ the fruit, she cut it up though. Do you want some?”

There was a bubble of emotions that came up in the form of hesitation, it was old and complicated and Allison didn’t know how to sift through it fast enough to make any sense of it. Five pursed his lips, shrugged one shoulder and stepped over, holding his coffee in one hand casually. He considered the medley, genuinely perusing the selection, which was more than she could say for breakfast. He chose a pitted peach, cut in half, pulling it from the mix with slender fingers.

“That’s all?”

“Hmm?” he paused, dropping the peach-half back into the salad.

“You can take more,” she felt compelled to inform him.

“I know,” he said, which struck her for the lie it was. She had to swallow that quickly lest it show on her face.

“Get a bowl, take as much as you want.” He could take the whole damn thing, if it pleased him, and none of them would stop him or even admonish him.

The prickle of suspicion resurfaced, and he withdrew his hand away from the bowl, staring at her. His eyes flicked to Diego, mistrust wafting up like a foul smell. He leaned back, straightening to his full height and it was like a veil descended over him, and him alone. A muting of everything, like a layer of cloud, fog, or smoke that socked him in, pushing them out. He took a sip of his coffee, still watching them, before vanishing again in a pop of light.

Diego sighed, deflating next to her. “You can’t push directly, you keep spooking him.”

She groaned in frustration, pillowing her face on her arms on the table. “And here I thought this would be easier than trying to guess.”

She startled up when a returning pop announced Five’s re-arrival. He landed inches from the table wielding a knife from god knows where, which he used to spear several large pieces of fruit. He vanished again without pretense, leaving her stunned and blinking. 

From somewhere upstairs, peach flavored delight bloomed on her tongue.

#tua fic #tua #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #allison hargreeves #diego hargreeves #number five #fanfic #this one wanted to be so much more #and i had more ideas for it #please enjoy it in its tragically incomplete form

[sunmoonandeddie]

feelings are fatal (23/24)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader

word count: 3,018

summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

chapter warnings: swearing, violence, funeral

masterlist

a/n: this little chapter drop!!!

The funeral was three days later.

You’d taken it upon yourself to stay in the Stark cabin, licking your wounds and mourning the loss of the man you’d spent almost a decade of your life with. You’d mourned losing him before, but this was different.

This was permanent.

There’d be no more chances to go see him in Buffalo. There’d be no more watching him paint in his home studio, seeing the life he built for himself.

You hadn’t seen Bucky since you left the hospital.

You had walked out of Steve’s room, tears rolling down your cheeks. It felt like a death march as you had to face his family, had to face Peggy, the daughter that was named after you. “He’s gone,” you’d said, hands trembling. “I…”

“Oh, honey,” Peggy had whispered, moving to hug you as her own pain welled up in her eyes.

“I have to go,” you had insisted as you quickly slipped out of her grasp, speeding down the hall. You’d left the members of your little family in the waiting room, knowing that they’d gotten to talk to him before he’d passed but still feeling so guilty because you were the last one he’d seen. The last one he’d talked to.

You hadn’t even stopped when Bucky and Wanda had called out your name. You had the car keys in your hand, since he’d given them to you at some point in the blur of the day.

You’d left him there.

The pain was unbearable.

You’d spent the past three days at the bottom of a bottle, blasting all the playlists that Tony had saved. At some point, it had switched to a playlist full of old jazz music from the forties.

You’d thrown the bottle against the wall and watched it shatter.

Sweeping it up while absolutely plastered had been… an adventure. You had the bandages on your feet to prove it.

But you’d gotten it all swept up and into the trash before moving onto the next bottle.

You’d turned off your phone after the fourth phone call and the eighteenth text.

But Bucky didn’t show up. He didn’t come banging on your door like you hoped he would, swooping in and kissing you like the prince in a fairytale.

It was monumentally disappointing.

When you arrived at the funeral, you’d thrown the car into park and then sat in the lot outside for at least forty-five minutes. You’d shown up early entirely because you knew that you’d need time to gather the courage to go inside.

You’d had to order a black dress and heels with express shipping, since you hadn’t exactly thought to pack them when you and Bucky had gone on your little vacation and you didn’t really feel like going out to go shopping.

Your mistake.

It had taken a lot of effort to actually shower and do your hair and makeup. Your ankles felt like they’d give out any moment as you slammed the car door shut and headed inside.

“Hello.”

You almost tripped over your own feet as you heard a feminine voice call out to you. “H-Hi,” you said as you finally came face to face with the woman who had your name. “I’m—”

“I know,” she said, before getting a weak laugh. “Me, too. I’ve heard so much about you. My dad… uh… He really, really loved you.”

“Thank you,” you said, voice a little stiff. You hadn’t done much talking the past few days, unless screaming out lyrics counted.

Yeah, it counted.

Sorta.

“Um… H-How is Peggy—I mean, your mom—doing?”

“She’s handling it about as can be expected,” she said with a smile as she glanced to where the Brit in question was. It was strange, seeing the woman that was named after you. She was older than you by a few years, and had a few gray hairs. But she looked so much like the perfect mix of Steve and Peggy… “But dad was getting up there… more so than any other man. They both knew it was coming. I just don’t know if mom will be able to hold on without him much longer.”

Great. Because that’s exactly what you wanted to hear.

“Here, let me introduce my siblings!” She said, calling them over before you could say no.

By the time the actual service started, you’d met far more Rogerses than you had ever wanted to.

It was exhausting. They were all so… kind. Despite everything, despite the fact that you were literally their father’s ex girlfriend, despite the fact that you were the last person their father spoke to before he died, and not his wife.

“My husband, Steve, has always been what his best friend called him. A punk,” Peggy said as she stood up before everyone, letting out a weak laugh as she glanced back at the open casket. “But he was so many things. Brave. Outspoken. Generous. Stubborn…”

Your eyes stayed on her, even though you stopped hearing what she was saying. You didn’t have the energy to listen to a eulogy.

That is, until she said your name.

“Huh?” You said, suddenly on high alert. Some part of you was aware that your team was sitting in the front row, including Bucky. You’d been too busy speaking with Steve’s children to talk to them, not that you minded that. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face them.

“Would you please come up and say a few words?” Peggy asked gently, getting down and holding out her hand to you.

“I…” Fuck. You couldn’t say no. It was a god damn funeral. “Okay,” you said after a long moment, placing your hand in Peggy’s and letting her lead you up to the podium. The sea of people staring at you made your blood run cold, your hands trembling as you gripped the wood. “Um… H-Hi…” You introduced yourself, you voice cracking. “I’ve known Steve… since I was eighteen years old. And we were together for almost a decade.” You snorted, shaking your head as you glanced back at the casket, your heart stopping for a moment when your eyes rested on his face. “I know… most of you are probably wondering why the hell I’m up here. Why the hell anyone would want their husband’s ex girlfriend speaking at their funeral, but uh… Steve helped make me the person I am today.” Your heart was hammering inside of your chest, threatening to break your ribs. “He taught me when to push myself, how to trust my instincts.” Also all things that Bucky taught you. You could feel his seafoam blue gaze on you, pinning you in place. “I know it’s cheesy… But he taught me what it means to do the right thing, even when it means standing up to someone you love and telling them so. He taught me how to keep going even when my world was crumbling.” Your heart was shattering as your eyes met Bucky’s. “He taught me to chase after what I want the most in the world, and to accept nothing but the best.” Tears were starting to roll down your cheeks. “Steve was a bright light in the world, even when he was in his darkest moments.” You gave a watery smile, your hands clammy. “Steve was not the shield, and those of us who knew him personally know that. The shield was Steve. He made it into the symbol that it is. A symbol of what every person can be, what they should be. What we should all aspire to be.” Your throat was starting to close up. “But he was showing us that even before the serum, wasn’t he? Because it doesn’t matter how small you are, or where you come from. You can make the choice everyday to make the world a little better.” Sniffling, you swallowed around the lump in his throat. “And I know I’m rambling, but I really didn’t expect to be speaking here today, so please forgive me, but I just… I never thought he’d die like this. There were hundreds of missions where I thought… this is it. This is where I lose him. I always knew he’d fight until he couldn’t anymore. The fact that he got the honor of passing like he did… what feels like a million years old and surrounded by his loved ones in a hospital… just like any other man… I can’t think of a better happy ending for him.” You took a deep breath. “But there’s someone who should be up here more than me. Someone who knew him from the beginning. From playground to battlefield and beyond, right?”

Bucky’s entire body was trembling as he slowly got to his feet and walked up to the podium. But before you could leave, his hand slipped into yours and squeezed, a silent question being asked.

Stay?

And how could he ever think you’d leave him?

You squeezed his hand back, staying by his side as he slowly started to speak. He spoke about the first time they met, all the fights he broke up.

Until the end of the line.

You guessed it really was the end. The grand finale of a life that wasn’t always easy, but was always worth it.

Watching Steve’s casket being lowered into the ground felt like a hallucination. How could it possibly be real?

The feeling that you’d gotten in the hospital was washing back over you like a tsunami. The overwhelming feeling of despair, of disbelief.

Of anger.

You wanted more time. There wasn’t ever enough time and now he was gone.

You slipped away after the funeral ended, getting into your car and just… driving. You knew you’d eventually make it back to the cabin, but you needed to roll the windows down and just feel the icy cold wind in your hair, on your skin.

Making you feel alive.

When you got back to the cabin, the sun had set, stars twinkling overhead in a brilliance you’d never see in the city.

You held your heels in your hand as you stumbled into the house, tossing them to the side as you headed for the kitchen. “FRIDAY, put on some music,” you said quietly.

“What playlist would you like?”

“Read the room, Fri,” you said simply, sighing as you grabbed a bottle of wine from the kitchen. She started to play music throughout the house, and you bit your lip as she started to play a blend of your favorites. Mostly Black Pumas and The Teskey Brothers. “Fri, can you turn on the fireplace?”

Warm light filled the living room and kitchen, flickering softly.

You didn’t bother changing as you collapsed onto the fur rug with just your wine and your bottle opener. “Dumb… cork…,” you huffed as you worked to get it open.

You were about halfway through the bottle when you heard a car pull up, followed by the slam of the door. Your mind was fuzzy as you watched the front door open and Bucky walk in. “Hi.”

He stopped in the entryway, still wearing the all black suit he’d donned at the funeral. “Hey,” he breathed out. He couldn’t help but snort as he saw the bottle of wine in your hands. “Yeah… It has been that kind of day, huh?”

When you held it out to him, you couldn’t tear your eyes away as you watched his pink lips wrap around the bottle and he took a swig.

Fuck, you had it so bad.

“How are you feeling?” You asked as you watched him stand by the end of the sofa. “It’s been… a rough day.”

“I’ve been better,” he said simply as he took another drink. “But I know I’ll feel better once you and I are speaking again.”

Your heart squeezed inside your chest as your eyes met, your cheeks flushing. “Right… I… I think we were both… frazzled… But I’m so sorry.”

Pain and Misery by The Teskey Brothers started to play over the stereo, filling the house with soothing R&B. It was one of your favorite songs in the whole entire world.

“I've been in love, honey, you know it's true… Was since that day I first laid my eyes on you…”

“Malen’kaya,” he said as he set the bottle on the coffee table, holding out his hand to you. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Could you forgive me for how I acted?”

“Love is a crazy game, baby… It's how I feel… It makes you oh, so high, but it takes so long to heal…”

You nodded after a long moment, slipping your hand into his and squeezing as he tugged you to your feet. “I can. I do,” you said, the wine making your head fill with bubbles.

“So, please, yeah, yeah… Won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone, it's all pain and misery. Honey, please, yeah, yeah… Won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone it's pain and misery…”

Something inside of you clicked back into place as he pulled you close to his chest, the two of you immediately starting to sway. Falling back into step with him was as easy as breathing, you were finding.

Perhaps even easier.

“Sometimes I curse that day of when you came along… I was happy but it's been pain now for so very long… Oh, I'm begging you, honey… Please, won't you stay? 'Cause I been so lonely since you gone away…”

“I don’t like not talking to you,” he said quietly, his lips pressing to your forehead. “Feels so wrong… Like I can’t breathe.”

Funny how you’d just had almost the same thought.

“Everyday is pain… In the end, it's hard to see… Every fateful day is oh, so sad, now that I've lost the best friend that I ever had…”

He was so warm, so comforting. Like a teddy bear.

“I don’t like not talking to you either,” you admitted as you nuzzled closer to him, breathing in the musky scent of his cologne. It was intoxicating. “Can we please never do it again?”

“Honey, please, won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone it's all pain and misery…”

He grinned against your forehead, his hand moving from your hip as he slid his arm around your waist to pull you even closer. “I think that can be arranged.”

“Honey, please, whoa please, won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone it's pain and misery…”

“Jamie…,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you tried to gather the words you wanted to say.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He asked, resting his head against yours.

“Hey, I'm begging you, honey… Whoa… I want you to love me… Yeah, I want you to love me… I need you so bad…”

“What does this mean?” You asked as the song ended and it shifted to another. “For us, I mean?” You were starting to panic, anxiety welling up in your chest and causing you to word vomit. “Because I can’t do this back and forth, I can’t. I won’t. I won’t survive it. I can’t keep pretending like we’re just friends and that the way you make me feel doesn’t make me… doesn’t make me…”

“Doesn’t make you what?” He asked quietly, not letting you move away from his secure embrace. “Please… Because I can’t keep acting as though you’re not my everything.” He held the back of your head, his fingers gently massaging your scalp. “Please… Please, tell me you love me. Because I…” He rested his forehead against yours, a tear rolling down his cheek. “The love I have for you has rewritten every piece of DNA in my body,” he said. “It’s in my blood, my bones… You are written in my heart, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. And…” He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “And if you don’t love me the way I love you, that’s just fine. As long as I have you in my life… I’ll be whatever you need.”

“Jamie…,” you said with a weak laugh. You were openly crying, though you weren’t sure when you had started. “Oh, Jamie… Do you really think I could ever not love you?” Your nose nudged against his as you wrapped both of your arms around his neck. “If you don’t kiss me, we’re gonna have a fight.”

The smile that split open his face was blinding. The kiss he planted upon your lips was absolutely filthy. A mess of teeth and tongue and grins and giggles, a tangle of feelings pent up for so long that you were sure you’d never get them all out. You’d spend the rest of your life unraveling all the ways he made you feel, and you’d do it with a smile.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much,” you said as you pressed yourself against him. “I never wanna be without you ever again.”

“You never have to,” he breathed out as he nipped at your lower lip. Without further ado, he reached down and slipped his arm under your thighs. You let out a squeak as he scooped you up, carrying you bridal style up the stairs. “I’m gonna love you so good,” he said with a growl.

You almost hit your head on the door frame as he carried you into the guest bedroom you two were occupying, squealing as he tossed you onto the bed. “Jamie!”

“Yes, malen’kaya?” He asked as he shoved off his suit jacket, toeing off his dress shoes at the same time.

“Nothing,” you said, giggling as you started to strip down, too. “Nothing at all.”

When you two finally finished hours later, the wine had worn off, and he was asleep. You’d curled up on top of his chest, his cool vibranium hand resting on the small of your back, helping you cool off.

“Jamie?” You murmured, testing if he was asleep. When he grunted, you smiled, intertwining your fingers with his flesh hand. “I love you…”

“I love you more, baby.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n

[haechanokeh]

[teaser] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 2 ] [ Chapter 3 ] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9]

pairing: popular college! mark x average! reader

genre: romance, smut, angst, series.

warning (general): corruption, oral sex (both receiving and giving), cream pie, rough sex, mention of religion, rough sex, self-esteem, public sex, sub! reader, sex toys. possessive mark two-faced mark, psychology

you cried your eyes out, face shoved in your pillow and muffling your sobs. you didn't who told you those words, it was mark but he's not the same guy you fell in love with and the guy you said yes with today. your phone was ringing nonstop so you have to turn it off but mark was too eager so he's now in front of your house banging and shouting your name begging you to open the door and talk to him.

what he told you was possible, that they didn't care for you and you have to admit that it stings but his words are not responsible for your vulnerability right now, it was the unknown mark. you didn't like him just because he's kind, it was just one out of the nth god knows the reason why you love him. he made you so special, he was right that he's the only person who cared about you in your class but the unfamiliar mark you saw a couple of hours ago was scary. it gave you goosebumps, you were frightened it's as if anytime he will hurt you.

you heard a hard stomp inside your room and you quickly sat up and surprisingly it was mark inside your room who entered the room through your open window.

"fuck, y/n." he ran into you and pulled you up into his arms. "I'm so sorry, this will never happen again." he whispered and caressed your hair. "i will not let lucas and my friends break us, shhh i am truly sorry. you only need me, so don't worry."

your body froze in shock and your heart beating so fast. he's not sorry.

"what..." you whispered in disbelief, you can't understand why he can't understand that he's wrong as well.

"we're okay now right? let's just forget everything, y/n... hmmm?" he looked at your face and looked into your eyes but he saw nothing but unpleasant. he felt rage rushing in his whole system. "what do you want! i already apologize!" he squeezed your jaw.

you were shaking in fear as his loud voice boomed in your room. his nose was flaring, his eyes were dripped with spite, and his chest where heaving. he's so mad at you and you're scared and confused.

that's when you realize, there's something wrong with him.

"m-mark, you're hurting me." you sobbed. mark snapped out of his senses. he quickly removed his hands from you and embraced you.

"I'm sorry." he sincerely said and kissed your cheeks and shove his face against it. "I'm so sorry, please don't leave me." he kept on apologizing non-stop. his hands were trembling you could feel it as he was clutching your arms.

"mark? mark?" you panicked. "mark? are you okay?" your fear from him vanished and changed into a concern to him. this is not normal.

you tried to get away from his arms but he's not budging, you stopped wriggling when you heard him whimper.

"don't leave me, can't. i really can't, i will lose myself." he begged like he's close to hopelessness. you gently pushed him to look at his face. your heart was stabbed when you saw how vulnerable he looked.

"mark..." you voice broke, you really don't know what to say because this is your first time to see him like this.

this is why mark never pursues someone or something he likes, he became possessive in fear that it will slip away from him, like his friends' admiration and respects towards him, the trust from his parents, and how they look at him as the perfect son, the people's respect on him because of his kindness and intellect, and his high grades- all of these are his goals and obsession but you're different. he can confidently allow these to get away from him in exchange of not losing you. you become his obsession. mark is aware that he has a problem but doesn't want to admit it and keep on insisting that this is part of his life... when it is not. everything about it is not normal, because when he faces rejection he felt anguish, loss, stress, and anger. there was a point where he tried to consider hurting and taking his life but he was taught that this is a grave sin and again, he felt disappointed that he is thinking of doing a grave sin which added made it worse to his anxiety. 3 years ago, he talked to his psychologist professor and was diagnosed with depression and attachment disorganized anxiety. he only attends one counseling session because he couldn't accept that there's something wrong with him and if people will find out about this he will lose all the respect.

ask him. you were pushing yourself to speak what's wrong? do you have a problem? you want to ask him but you became voiceless.

"mark, i want you to be honest to me okay?" your voice was shaking trying to control it from whimpering and tears rolling on your cheeks. "are you going through... something? do you want to talk about it?"

mark was spacing out while looking into your eyes but inside his head, it was in extreme chaos. he's having a second thoughts on telling that he has anxiety.

"mark, i love you so much but i need to understand you first so i know what to do and to make sure that you're receiving it. can you trust me?" you were convincing him and mark can see it through your eyes.

he gave up.

"i'm a mess." he broke down. mark's voice cracked and tears falling filled with hopelessness. you couldn't bare to see him like this so you pulled him into a passionate but slow kiss which he gladly responds.

you made him sit on your bed and straddle his hips, your hands were on both sides of his face and his hands were on the bed to support his body and your body. both of you where muffling your sobs.

"i was diagnosed depression and disorganized attachment anxiety" he confessed. you have no idea what is disorganized attachment anxiety, but you just understand that he has anxiety and depression, which was shocking.

mark lee, loved by everyone and religious boy have depression? that's when you realize, depression has no favoritism.

"how? you're..."

"when i was a kid, my parents are busy but i felt love every time they praise me and follow their lessons. i needed their praise and validation and i adopted it and became like... that and brought it until i grow up and to school. i never wanted to feel their disappointment and i never wanted to lose the respect of my parents, professors, and classmates but when i met you..." your eyes were locking with him. "you're the only thing i need and for the first time i never cared of losing it i thought i changed but i was wrong, nothing changed. i was just too possessive and obsess of you and when you told me you want to leave me..." his voice broke once again.

"it's going to be the end of me. it's been a long time since i felt rejected and i don't know what to do." he weeps and you felt weak.

mark has been your emotional support with fragile heart, you felt useless. instead of apologizing, you said the 3 words he always and shamelessly tells you.

"i love you." you pecked his lips. "i love you." your kissed it again and repeatedly do it while allowing the tears to fall.

he needs assurance that he is genuinely loved, which he is.

"mark, you are you still going to a psychiatrist?" making sure that he's managing it very well, but he shook his head. he needs help, someone who's more reliable. you hope that the next statement you will tell him will not take it as a bad thing. you rub his cheeks.

"you need to, aren't we pharmacists? aren't we push people to comply and adhere?" you smiled sadly.

"what will they think? my parents will be disappointed and sad at me, they will blame it to themselves, i know them y/n. and the people around me, they will think that i am fragile." you could see how frustrated he was.

"i thought you don't care about them anymore? i thought what matters is me? and what i think is that i love you and will love you more regardless of seeing one." you want to tell him that one day if you will do something wrong he might hurt himself or the people around him but you don't know if it's the right thing to say. this is why he needs to talk to a professional and you also need one because you can talk to them on what is the right thing to do to help mark and support him.

"if i do this you will never leave me?" you felt bad, now mark is now losing trust on you.

"if you do that, i am always right there with you." you kissed his forehead.

"and if i don't?"

"and if you don't..." you rest your forehead against his. "i am always with you."

you stared at each other for a long time sharing tons of emotion and you didn't know when it happened but both of you can't keep your hands to yourself. you're hovering over him touching him everywhere and his hands are all over your back.

you're grinding yourself hard on his pants, both of you panting but your lips never got separated, instead, it gets deeper. you pulled the hem of his pants and boxer. you pushed aside you shorts and sunk down to his length.

"fuck, that was hot." mark coulnd't help but blurt that out. you started to bounce, hands gripping his shoulders. he squeezed your breast underneath your shirt when suddenly the door clicked opened along with a women's gasp.

both of your heads turned towards the door's direction. it was your mom wearing his office uniform, holding a bowl with jaw-dropping in surprise. mark panicked, and so do you. you pulled mark's head and pulled it towards your breast, you want to gatekeep him.

"mom!" you shouted.

"i-i'm sorry I thought you look so down.. ohh..." you actually don't know what she just realized but she's nodding her head like now i get it "you have--"

"mom, get out!" she quickly closed the door.

"just so you know i will be here at 8, but if you want i can come here by 9! you can continue-"

"mom!" she made you feel embarrassed.

"my daughter has a boyfriend! finally!" she squealed as if the pigs finally learned how to fly. your mom thought this day wouldn't come but good lord your mom saw mark's face and at that moment she knew she needs mark's gene in her family tree.

"as much i loved your breast, i love to look at your face more." mark said. you release his head.

"my mom is just like that I'm sorry." you heard your mom honked. mark grinned and you gave him an apologetic look. "are you still in the mood?"

"i'm afraid i'm not anymore." mark chuckled. there's so much going on inside him plus he was slightly concerned what your mom thought of him. your mom caught him making with you but she seemed cool though but it was awkward.

"me too." deep down your blaming your mom.

you went back to class, you can't let mark skip[ another class again. you have to be a good influence. it was awkward but everyone already knows that you're dating, there's no reason to hide it and might just embrace it. mark apologized to the whole class, he didn't tell them his condition but he told them that he's going through something. even though mark still thinks that they are just using him, though at first that's how you perceived them but that really changed, for you it was a genuine friendship, they were so forgiving and i hope one day mark will accept that friendship.

since them, things went good though not perfect. his parents blamed themselves but you told them that that's the reason why mark didn't want to tell it to them, instead of continuing blaming themselves, they will give them all the love and support. mark never missed a session and you never missed going with him also.

and for the first time, you went to their church and the pastor is mark's father. you thought it was going to be like a normal day but...

"mark..." you sighed when he increased the intensity of the vibrator that he slipped while his father preaching. the front seats were occupied while you and mark are the only ones seating at the back.

you're squeezing and rubbing your thighs together, you felt so hot and wet. you badly want to moan, but that will be hard because you felt like once you moan, it will never stop.

"are you calling me love?" mark innocently asked you, he was saying that while putting the vibrator on max. you mouth opened while looking at mark's eyes. mark kept his smile while watching your orgasm face. he's doing unholy inside but worth it. he off the vibrator.

unfortunately all you can hear mark's father but can't understand it. you're still in ecstasy.

"my friends and family, it's not about finding the right person, it is becoming the right person, and if both partners think this way even the wrong shadows will be lighted by understanding. it's like saying i am the right person for the right person. tell this to your partner."

"i am the right person for the right person." mark whispered into your ears.

"hmm? what?" you weakly said. your eyes still closed. mark just chuckled and kissed your forehead.

"nothing." then put the vibrator to max.

"mark!" you screamed and everyone turned their heads towards you. you blood went down to your feet and nervously smile. "i- love your son sir..." you embarrassingly confessed. mark was trying to suppress his laugh while the people around you awed.

"and that's an example of my preach today."

you glared at mark, he just grinned and kiss your love.

"i love you too." he said.

"i want to smack you in the head." you angrily said. he just laughed.

this is going to be the last chapter. sorry for waiting to much, BUT there's a BONUS chapter there's no story on that just pure 🥵

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#mark lee angst #mark lee smut #nct mark #mark lee #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut