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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 2)

(part 1)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 3k

chapter warnings: kinda smut? (male masturbation), stalking (not bucky lol), a bit a violence, angst

It had been a month. Well, 29 days, to be exact; he’d been counting them. 29 days since he’d seen so much more than he was supposed to, and he was pretty sure you’d seen him too. 29 days of tense silence as he wondered if you were ever going to say anything about it.

It must have been that you hadn’t seen him, if you hadn’t said anything for so long. But god, it really did feel like you were looking right into his eyes as you came that night. He knew the reality was that it was a horrible mistake and he was a terrible person for looking at you like that, and that he was never going to be any closer to you than watching someone else pleasure you; he knew that truly. But regardless, that moment had been playing on repeat in his mind for 29 days.

And now, as he took his shower, he prepared to finish off day 29 and start day 30.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, head falling back against the cool tile as his hand stroked slowly over his cock. He’d dreamt about you (again) and woken up so hard that it actually hurt; so this wasn’t a continuation of his perversion, or his unhealthy obsession, no, it was pain relief. It was medicine, really.

In his dream, like always, it had been him between your legs in the back of the car and not that other guy— who he’d seen on TV the other day, dying in the first five minutes of an episode of some awful CW drama, by the way. It killed him that he couldn’t know how you really taste, or how you really would sound saying his name, but the best guess of his subconscious would have to do. He tried to conjure in his mind how you sounded that night, each frame of the memory burned into his brain until it was what he saw every time it closed his eyes.

Baby.

That was what you’d said first, and it still made his heart stop every time it echoed in his head. Baby.

The word itself was sort of innocuous, but it was the way you said it— just below your breath, deep but airy— and what it meant. It was a plea: you were begging him to touch you, to make you feel good, to help you. Bucky could listen to you beg for hours, it would be like music to his ears; like poetry, even.

Later that night, when he’d given you the rest of his sandwich, he’d gotten the closest he ever would to hearing you moan his name. What you’d said originally was just ‘oh my god, Bucky, this is so good’ and it was just generic enough that he could imagine it being a little more specific. Sure, it was stupid to get off on memories of you praising a sandwich (that you ate while drunk in the shower) but it still did wonders for him as his hand pumped his length faster and faster.

Oh my god, Bucky, it feels so good— you feel so good. You’re so good. Oh my god, Bucky—

He bit down on his lip, already so close to the edge that there was no turning back, toes curling underneath the stream of hot water as his breathing moved just as quick as his thoughts— thoughts of you in the back of the car, or in the shower with your foggy silhouette just barely visible to him, or doing all sorts of things that he’d never seen you do but he’d love to pretend he had.

“Oh my god, Bucky!” you yelled as you swung open the door, a choked moan jumping out of his throat in shock as his eyes shot open, come starting to spill down over his hand.

You couldn’t see him through his shower curtain, thank all that’s holy, but it was a sort of sensory overload as he tried to process what was going on mid-orgasm.

“What?!” he yelped, voice clearly rougher but hopefully not in a way you would find suspicious.

“Come quick,” you requested.

Already did, he thought to himself with a shudder of guilt.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s somebody in the yard,” you explained frantically, “it’s probably nothing, but I don’t know how they got past the gate—”

Your mitigation was lost to him as he was already turning off the flow of water, the evidence of his misdeed already washed away, leaving only the ringing in his ears and the burning in his cheeks as reminders.

You stepped out into the hall to give him just enough privacy to slip on a robe, which he was certain he looked ridiculous in but he really had no choice. Storming out of the bathroom, he wasn’t sure he was ready to confront a potential threat while dripping wet and barefoot, but the whole point of him living here most of the week was so he could keep you safe at all times— apparently, shower time included.

“Stay inside,” he instructed you quickly, “and stay out of the line of sight of any windows and doors, got it?”

You nodded, and he could tell you were scared. He hated that you had to worry about this sort of stuff. He was glad to be there to help, yes, but he would rather this line of work didn’t need to exist at all even if it put him out of a job. You waited for him there as he pushed past you and moved through the living room, considering whether or not he should grab a weapon from the safe he kept hidden in this room— but then he glanced to his left arm, drying quicker than the rest of him, and remembered he already had a weapon.

By the time he reached the door he could hear someone shouting your name outside. As Bucky flipped on the damn-near-blinding security light on your porch and entered the yard, he saw a guy— smaller than him, but not exactly tiny— who seemed to ignore him and the light completely as he continued his desperate attempts to get your attention.

“This is private property, you need to leave,” Bucky told the man in his best ‘stern but not quite yelling’ voice.

“Is she home?” he asked him instead, totally unfazed by the warning. As the fan looked back up and called your name again, Bucky shivered with the realization that he was looking up at your bedroom window. Had he already seen you there? Or, worse, did he have some other way of knowing which window was your bedroom?

“You need to get out of here before I call the police. You’re trespassing,” Bucky continued, pushing the man back towards the gate. Sadly, Bucky knew from experience the police weren’t that concerned about celebrity stalkers— you and him had both called to no avail once they learned the name of the homeowner. It made his blood boil just to think about it.

“Hey, let go of me!” the man resisted, pushing Bucky back. He seemed to sober up a bit when Bucky’s face changed, though, but it was too late. He tried to duck but totally missed, and Bucky’s right fist made contact with his jaw. “Ow!” he screeched, cowering and trying to cover his face. “What the fuck?! That’s assault— you just assaulted me!”

“And you’re trespassing. And harassing. And probably stalking,” Bucky listed, continuing to guide the man back towards the gate. “Tell me how you got in here. Did you hop the fence?”

He couldn’t go any further back as the man was pressed back against a stone column, squirming a bit but otherwise putting up little fight— or maybe he was actually trying his best, and it was just lost on someone as strong as Bucky.

Unamused by his stammering and lack of an answer, Bucky brought his metal fist to the column right beside the man’s face, hitting hard enough to break off a sizable chunk of the stone. “Tell me!” he demanded.

“There’s a tree out back, I climbed it!” he explained with a whimper, “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t come back here, you hear me? Or this—” Bucky pointed to the dent in the column that he’d made— “will be your face!”

Letting him go and swinging open the gate a bit, the man ran away of his own volition, stumbling down the street and out of the glowing light of the streetlamps. Bucky let out a low sigh, hoping it was the last of him but terrified that it wouldn’t be. He made a mental note to call a landscaper about trimming this mysterious tree in the back, or maybe chopping it down altogether, as he made his way back inside. He found you in the living room, chewing your nails nervously and watching him step closer with wide, watery eyes.

“He’s gone,” Bucky informed you quickly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“You okay?” he asked gently.

“Um, yeah,” you decided, but you didn’t seem so confident. Even so, he wasn’t sure what more he could do.

“Oh, I broke your pillar, by the way. Sorry.”

“I saw that,” you smiled a little, but he frowned.

“I told you to stay out of sight of the windows,” he reminded you.

You sighed. “I know, I know, I just…” you trailed off, lip quivering a little as you got emotional again. “I know it’s stupid but—”

“No, don’t say that,” he interjected.

“— but I was so scared,” you finished, voice wavering as you ran towards him, suddenly pulling him into a tight hug. It took him by surprise, but he figured it was okay to hug you back. He was only wearing a robe, he suddenly remembered, and your face was against the exposed portion of his bare chest. If he hadn’t gotten off just minutes ago, he certainly would’ve gotten hard just from that (embarrassingly enough).

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed gently, indulging himself in resting his chin on top of your head as he stroked your hair.

“Thank you,” you mumbled against his skin, pulling him even closer, “god, I don’t even know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been here.”

A pang of guilt rattled in his chest; you trusted him so completely and he was crushing on you, spying on you (only the once, but still), taking advantage of your need for protection, staying in your guest bedroom and jerking off to you in your shower— when had he turned into an unstoppable pervert?

“Will you stay in my room tonight?” you asked him suddenly, looking up at him with those big shiny eyes and a pouty lip.

“Oh nonononono,” he shook his head, instantly recognizing that trap.

“No, Bucky, please,” you whimpered, “that guy might come back, I don’t want you all the way across the house.”

“I shouldn’t— I’d be overstepping—” he stammered.

“Please,” you sighed, and he sighed too, because when you said it like that, he couldn’t say no to you.

Bucky had insisted on staying on the floor as opposed to getting up on your bed, which was a drag but whatever. At least you had a lot of good spare blankets and pillows to make him a comfy-looking pallet. He seemed to agree when he appeared behind you in the doorway to find you on your knees on the floor, putting it all together.

“You didn’t need to do that, I’m pretty good at sleeping on floors as-is,” he dismissed.

“No, I’m happy to!” you beamed, turning around and choking a bit when you looked up at him in his pajamas. Even though they were still pretty conservative, specifically sweats and a scoop neck sweater-y sort of top, it was probably more than you’d ever seen of him since his uniform was very concealing. You were kind of hoping to catch a glimpse of his metal hand— you didn’t get to see it much because he wore driving gloves the vast majority of the time, and you hadn’t really been paying attention when it was exposed earlier by his just being in a robe— but he was noticeably leaning against the doorframe in such a way that you couldn’t see it. The thing that really got a reaction out of you was his dog tags, though; you’d never seen him wear them before and there was something perfect about the way the silver chain dangled over the slight peek of collarbone visible above his neckline. “Aren’t you warm wearing that much to bed?”

“No, it’s fine,” he dismissed. You hoped he wasn’t wearing more just for your benefit. Shirtlessness would’ve benefited you more, certainly. In fact, now you felt kind of bad that you were just wearing a thin, silky short-and-tank set. Hopefully it didn’t make him uncomfortable.

Getting up from the floor, you slipped under your covers and motioned for him to do the same. He turned off your lamp first, stealing your last chance at a good view of the hand, and you heard him get comfortable on the floor.

“Thank you for this,” you mumbled quickly into the darkness. “I don’t think I’d be able to fall asleep if you weren’t in here.

“Oh, of course,” he replied softly.

“Goodnight,” you whispered.

“Goodnight,” he answered back, and his low, sleepy voice was somehow both soothing and energizing.

You weren’t sure if you even tried to fall asleep, or how long you laid staring out into the void of the darkness. It was so dark in your room that you saw purple spots dancing in the corners like static as your eyes adjusted, incomprehensible shapes forming to make up for the lack of visual stimulation. You wished that there was enough ambient light to be able to see Bucky’s shape on the floor and know he was there; instead, you settled for the subtle sound of his slow breathing. When you heard him adjust slightly, you decided maybe just the breathing wasn’t enough to be sure it was really safe.

“Bucky?” you whispered under your breath. “Are you awake?”

“Yes,” he answered, making you sigh with relief.

“I can’t sleep.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t be able to sleep if I wasn’t here.”

“But I never said you being here would make me sleep,” you pointed out.

“Then I should go,” he decided.

“No, please,” you hissed, “don’t go.”

“Okay.”

You took a deep breath. “Tell me something,” you requested.

“Tell you what?”

“I don’t know, anything.”

He paused for a moment. “Will it help you sleep?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Bucky sighed, and you heard him turn on his side. “Want me to tell you a bedtime story?” he asked, sarcasm noticeable even in a whisper.

“Yes,” you announced with a smile.

“Okay,” he pondered, “um… once upon a time—”

“Good start,” you rolled your eyes.

“No interrupting!” he scolded.

“Sorry…”

“Anyways, once upon a time there was a princess, who lived in a castle in the Isle of Manhattan.”

“A castle?” you asked excitedly.

“A somewhat modest castle, but yes. One with big golden gates and marble columns. The princess didn’t live all alone in her castle though— at least, not all the time. She had many royal attendants, and servants, and plenty of friends of course. But the problem with being a beautiful, kind, generous princess is that sometimes people get too friendly and want to visit her in the castle when she’d rather be alone. Thankfully, the princess had a last line of defense—”

“Let me guess, a knight in shining armor?” Or more like knight with shining arm.

“Wish I could say so,” he disagreed. “No, this princess needed something a little fiercer, and that was why a dragon guarded the castle.”

“A dragon?!”

“Mhmm. A big, scary dragon with sharp teeth and big wings, that breathed fire on anyone who got in his way. The thing about knights is that they’re noble, and handsome, and righteous. But righteousness prevents people from doing bad things, and sometimes bad things need to be done to protect good things. So, knights can’t protect princesses like they should. That’s what dragons are for. They’re mean and nasty— it’s their nature, after all— and sometimes you need somebody burnt up, so you call a dragon and he’ll deal with it for you. And this dragon was the meanest and nastiest of them all, and he’d burnt a lot of people in his time. Oddly enough, the princess was still nice to him, but she had a lot of knights and princes and kings who wanted her hand. Good thing the dragon was there to pick off the worst ones.”

You giggled a little, even though your heart was racing.

“The dragon watched over the castle every night— well, five nights a week… cause the princess wanted weekends to herself— but, still, he was very dedicated and did his best to keep her safe. Sometimes he would take her to whatever lavish ball she had been invited to that week; she would ride on his back as he flew there, even though he was pretty scared she would fall off or something. And sometimes…”

Your breath caught at the pause, waiting anxiously for what would come next.

“Sometimes the dragon wished he wasn’t a monster. But if he wasn’t a monster, then he couldn’t keep her safe. So, he resigned himself to a life outside the castle, because at least he could be near her— even if she was impossibly far away.”

You swallowed as you tried to process it, finding yourself at a complete loss for words.

“The end,” he whispered gently, before giving you a goodnight and saying your name in a way that he’d never said it before— at least, you’d never heard him say it that way before. But you really, really hoped you’d get to hear it again. You did manage to fall asleep eventually, dreaming about flying and wishing you didn’t have to wake up.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction

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qianinterprises · 3 years

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Warm Mornings

Pairing | Jeno x Reader x Jaemin

Warning(s) | slightly suggestive (if you squint), polyamorous relationship

Synopsis | Just an everyday morning in the life of you, snuggled between the loves of your life.

Author’s Notes | I wrote this after reading this by @bluejaem. After getting permission (in the form of a brain dumped imagine lol), I decided to write my own little NoMin poly! I would also like to add that I started over three damn times before I was finally happy with it, but it has not been beta read so... expect grammatical errors (Im sorry!)

Work Count | 1.9K

°:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮　 °:. *₊ °:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ °

As morning bloomed over the city, pulling individuals out of their dreams to dawn a new day, you rolled over under the blankets, careful not to disturb the arms wrapped around your waist in your quest for comfort. As you settled on your side, facing the eastern window, your eyes cracked open, sleep already leaving you for awakeness.

Sunlight beamed into the window, casting hues of gold along the walls, creating patterns and designs of light around the room. One beam of sun in particular hit the back of the man to your left, light bouncing off his bare skin and illuminating his body in such a way he appeared to almost be glowing. Golden rays bounced off his dyed brown hair, creating such an heir of elegant innocence around him.

The bed ruffled and the body behind you wiggled until one of the arms around your waist was pulling you back against a broad chest, face nestling in your neck, blowing soft tufts of air across your sensitive skin, making you shudder.

“Good morning,” his voice was deep and raspy, husky with sleep.

“Morning,” you whispered back, quiet so as not to wake the male in front of you.

“Is he glowing?”

A smile falls across your face, eyes roving over the porcelain face of Na Jaemin, deep in the confines of sleep, eyes fluttering lightly with dreams, hair a mess atop his head.

“Like an angel,” you whispered.

The arms around your waist seemed to tighten even more as he pressed a kiss on your jaw.

“Our angel.”

You placed your hands lightly over his, stroking along his skin, tracing the bulging veins that came with being a well-built muscular man with a love for exercise.

“Are you two talking about me again?”

Jaemin’s voice brought a yelp from your throat and your body lurched backwards in shock, unfortunately sending your foot into a not so friendly place for the man behind you.

The arms released your body completely as said male let out a slow whine, hands moving down to cup himself, coaxing the organ to stop spiking with the pain your foot had left.

You rolled over, careful of your limbs this time to check that the male was alright.

Lee Jeno. A tall, lanky but muscular man that had stolen your heart the first time your eyes met. His face was contorted in pain, eyes squeezed shut to keep in the tears that surely weren’t far from falling.

“I am so sorry!” you breathed, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, but he flinched at your touch.

“Give him a moment. Let him catch his bearings.”

Jaemin’s voice wasn’t half so husky now as he wound his arms around his waist and pulled you back, careful of your feet as you curled your legs again comfortably.

“That wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been pretending to be asleep!” you hissed.

“Oh I wasn’t pretending. You two just aren’t as quiet as you think you are.”

You turned your head to send a glare at him when a puff of air left Jeno’s lips and his body uncurled itself. His eyes opened, glassy, and he blinked a few times to rid the tears that threatened to fall.

“Next time you jump in fear, try to make sure your not curled up first!”

Jaemin snorted and you shook your hide, sliding out of Jaemin’s arms and closer to Jeno, who engulfed you in a bear hug, pressing your face against his shoulder.

“No fair! He got cuddles already! I haven’t got my cuddles yet!” Jaemin’s voice whined behind you.

“I just got kicked in the balls! I think I deserve a few extra cuddles!” Jeno insisted.

You rolled your eyes and pulled away from Jeno slightly. He let out a small, puppy whine, hands clinging to your waist as Jaemin cackled behind you, making a grab to pull you away. He let out his own yelp when you slapped one of his hands away and instead, grabbed his arm, tugging him closer until his chest was pressed against your back.

“You can both cuddle me,” you mumbled, nuzzling your face into Jeno’s neck as Jaemin’s arms slowly wrapped themselves around your body.

Your eyes began to droop as two warm bodies help you snuggly between them, hands softly stroking your back or your arms, lulling you back into your dreams, breathing in Jeno’s scent of earthy body wash, content at the way Jaemin’s lips pressed butterfly kisses along your neck.

°:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮　 °:. *₊ °:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ °

When you opened your eyes for the second time, you noted the lack of arms around you and the rhythmic heartbeat against your ear.

You let out a soft yawn, shuffling closer to the chest, immediately recognizing it as Jeno’s. You wound your arms around his waist, holding onto him like an overstuffed teddy bear.

He had his phone in his hand, playing some weird alien-killing game, his other hand lazily drawing patterns beneath your shirt against your back.

“Where’s Jaemin?” you asked with a small yawn, nuzzling closer.

“In the kitchen.”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when he didn’t glance up from the game as another green alien blob appeared on screen.

“I’m going to go see if he needs any help.”

You moved to get up, but the hand down your shirt quickly pulled out and wound itself around your waist, preventing you from moving.

“I’m under strict orders not to let you out of this bed.”

You rolled your eyes but complied, happy to rest your head against Jeno’s bare chest, but his abs were only so interesting.

“Can you hand me my phone?”

Dating two was a lot different than dating just one. You had to make compromises and things didn’t always work out flawlessly. For example, sleeping arrangements.

After dating for a while, the three of you had decided to get an apartment together rather than living in two separate apartments (because Jeno and Jaemin already lived together). It made sense, especially with their differing jobs and never having time to go on dates as a trio. When you’d first bought the apartment, you’d taken your queen sized bed from your old one, but that quickly ended in disaster, either Jaemin or Jeno ending up on the floor in the middle of the night after being kicked out of bed from a restless sleeper.

After finding one or both men snuggled up uncomfortably on the couch because the bed just wasn’t big enough for the three of you, you’d pooled your money and bought a larger, King sized bed. However, while this kept you all in bed without bruises, it also meant you were stuck under two blankets between two boys, both of which radiated heat like a space heater.

You’d find yourself waking up in the middle of the night, their arms wrapped around you, your shirt sticking to your back in sweat, which should have been an easy enough solution, just kick the blankets off. Problem was, when you did, you either squirmed so much it woke one or both of them up, or you ended up warm and toasty between two shivering boys. That was an issue solved with a ceiling fan, though it wasn’t perfect.

The newest issue, however, was always needing assistance to reach something. Rather than sleeping on a side with a night stand, you were constantly shaking them awake to ask for a sip of water from the nightstand or crawling over one of them to use the restroom. A solution to this problem didn’t seem so simple as the others. However, despite waking them up countless times in the middle of the night, they never complained. In fact, they almost seemed happy to do it, even when Jaemin was sluggishly pulling himself out of bed at 5am for work after a rough night.

Unwinding his arm from around your waist, Jeno reached for your phone on the nightstand, unplugging it, and placing it in your hands, wrapping his arm back around your waist and going back to his game.

Pressing a kiss to his chest in thanks, you unlocked your phone, smiling at the photo of the three of you at the beach, begrudgingly taken by Donghyuck who’d gotten roped into third-wheeling when Renjun had bailed at the last minute.

You opened your Tumblr account, shifting to hide your screen from curious eyes and you pulled up your initial feed, hearting posts and reblogging memes until you came upon a fic from your favorite blog <your favorite blog> featuring South Korean heartthrob, Jung Jaehyun.

Biting down on your lower lip, you took another glance at Jeno before letting your eyes scan greedily over the words, drinking them in. It wasn’t long before you were fully absorbed in the story that you didn’t realize Jaemin was calling your name until the phone was snatched out of your hands.

“Geez! You’d think you’d gone deaf!” Jaemin exclaimed.

You felt your cheeks heat up, nose twitching in embarrassment as you carooned into Jeno’s chest.

“What in the-”

Jeno cut himself off. You glanced up at him, curious as to what had shocked him, only for your eyes to widen when you found him gaping at your screen.

“What kind of filth-!”

“It’s called smut! And it’s not for you!” you cried, reaching for the phone, only to have it raised higher, out of your reach.

You huffed.

“When did you start reading that stuff?!” Jaemin gaped.

“Probably around the same time Jeno put that virus on your laptop!”

“Hey!”

“So you’re the culprit! I had to explain to my older brother why I had a virus from an adult site I’d never watched before!” Jaemin exclaimed.

He jumped on the bed, grabbed his pillow, and hit Jeno over the head with it, hitting you at the same time.

“Ouch!” you whined. “Stop it!”

Jaemin huffed and flopped down on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jeno placed your phone back on the table and all was quiet until you turned to look at Jaemin.

“What were you calling me for anyways?”

He stared at you in confusion for a moment before perking up.

“Oh! Do you want orange juice or coffee?”

“Um… coffee duh! We started dating two years ago, right? Not yesterday?”

“I was just making sure!” he grumbled, crawling out of bed and stomping back to the kitchen.

When he was gone, Jeno leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I still want to know why you were reading filth about that idol…”

“Just forget it Jeno. You wouldn’t understand,” you groaned.

Not even a minute later, Jaemin was walking back into the room carefully balancing three trays in his arms. Jeno reached out to grab his own. Jaemin placed your tray over your lap and slid back under the blankets on your left. You sat up in bed and leaned close to press a kiss to the males cheek, only for him to turn at the last minute, capturing your lips.

He brought a hand to your face, cupping your cheek softly, drawing you closer as his tongue brushed over your bottom lip before pulling away, placing a lasting peck on your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You nuzzled yourself closer, careful not to disturb the tray of food on your lap.

“I love you more,” Jeno, clearly dissatisfied with his lack of attention, stated moving up behind you and pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You let out a breathy laugh, wrapped one arm around Jaemin’s neck, the other around Jeno’s.

“I love you both the most.”

#ficscafe #nct nomin #jaemin x reader #jeno x reader #nct fluff #poly relationship #Soft #love

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weelittleweasley · 3 years

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one more night (g.w.)

prompt: after a bad breakup, george comes back to y/n’s flat to pick up some leftover things he missed. one of these missing things was a proper goodbye.

pairings: george weasley x fem! reader

warnings: 18+ sexual content MDI (break up sex, soft sex, unprotected sex), super angsty, language, emotional break up, crying

word count: 3.7k

author’s note: something about break up sex really does it for me. like...it’s so hot and for why? anyway, here’s wonderwall. flashbacks are conveyed through italics.

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdric @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog @starlightweasley @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @vogueweasley

The small cardboard box that sat next to the door was completely pathetic, sitting there in shame. The cardboard could barely hold the boxes contents, wanting to burst at its seams as it held every shred of George Weasley that was in your flat. You wanted your flat to be a George Weasley free space, but a part of you wanted to keep the magic of your relationship alive. He couldn’t miss his quidditch jumper from Hogwarts, could he? It had been years since you graduated, he wouldn’t remember that you had it, right? So, his jumper hung proudly in your closet like the status of your relationship hadn’t changed.

As you leaned against your kitchen island, sipping quietly from your coffee mug, you stared at the cardboard box, hoping that the intensity of your gaze would make the box combust into flames. But it stayed still. Unaffected. George’s things teemed out of the box, miscellaneous shirts and jumpers and trinkets piled high. You caught yourself smiling as you shook it off, reminding yourself of the status of your relationship, cringing as you did so.

The night of your break up played on a constant loop, like a movie trailer. When you woke up, it was the first thing on your mind. When your head hit the pillow, it was the last thing you thought of when you closed your eyes. It was a sick cycle.

“I can’t change my work schedule to fit yours, George. I’ve done it in the past so often and I can’t anymore. I’m finally on my own two feet and I need to keep the ball rolling,” you explain to George as you sit at his kitchen table as George paces the living room, back and forth, pulling at his red roots, trying to formulate a response. “Admit it, George. We can’t m-”

“Don’t you say what you’re going to say, (Y/N). Don’t you bloody dare,” he speaks as you sigh, rubbing your face with your hands. You didn’t want to have this conversation with George, but it was unavoidable at this point. You had just gotten a job as a full-time Healer, working in St. Mungo’s, your dream job. But the busy work schedule that you had was failing to align with George’s schedule working the joke shoppe that just seemed to do better and better every day. “We can work this out. We can’t just give up at the first sign of hardship,” George laughs as you give him a knowing look. You had been trying to make it work for a month, but things simply weren’t working. When you did see him, it would be for two hours and the two of you would be so exhausted that you would talk for five minutes before going to bed. “(Y/N), I don’t want to be the one to suggest this, but I can support us. The both of us. The joke shoppe is doing so well and with the booming business, I have enough money for me to sell this flat and we can buy a home together. Start a family. What we’ve always wanted to do!”

You rise from your chair at the thought of quitting your job. Something you had worked years and years towards and George dared to bring up the suggestion of you quitting a month and a half in. “I am not quitting,” you say very sternly, making George sigh, knowing he shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. “I have worked my ass off to get where I am right now and I’m not going to sacrifice that for the sake of our relationship!” you exclaim.

But that was wrong of you to say; it just put wood on the fire. “So how far would you go for our relationship?” George challenges, folding his arms across his chest as you gulp. “Because Godric knows everything I have done for the sake of us.”

And he was right. George shifted employees and his own work schedule so he could have an extra hour with you some nights. He would close the shops on holiday weekends, which was prime for sales, so he could take you on romantic getaways. George told you to move in with him when you struggled to find a flat of your own. He helped get you through Healer school. George put you before him in the relationship and you knew that. You felt guilty now. You shouldn’t have said what you did.

“I didn’t mean it like that, George,” you sigh, admitting defeat as George scoffs. “I meant that I can’t give up my dream. Just when I finally got it. And I don’t want you to give up yours. It’s not fair for the both of us,” you try to tell him as he shakes his head, knowing the direction the conversation has turned and he doesn’t like it one bit. So much so that you can see his eyes become glassy as he turns his head away from you so you didn’t have to watch him break down. “George, I love you. The life you have given us has been nothing short of wonderful.”

“Stop it, please,” he manages to croak out, turning towards you, his chocolate brown eyes pooling with hot tears. The sight makes your heart shatter as you suck in a shaky breath, swallowing the lump in your throat. Tears were impending. “I don’t want to let you go. I can’t let you go. Not like this,” George holds your face in his hands, brushing your cheeks with his thumbs, gazing into your eyes with so much love he could burst. You let go of a shaky sigh as you lean into his touch and close your eyes, savoring the way his large hands held your face with such ease. “I’m not letting you go, (Y/N). I’m going to love you forever and ever and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

You open your eyes and give George a sad smile as he sniffles. You reach up and press your lips to his, your kiss mixing with both of your salty tears. This love that you possessed for each other was greater than anything you have ever known. But the universe was trying to tell you that this wasn’t working. For the both of you to live the lives you always dreamed out you had to let the other go. No matter how hard it was going to be.

The two of you pull away from your sweet kiss before you speak, “I’m never going to stop loving you, George. Nothing will change that. But for now, we need to let go. For both of our sake’s.”

The memory is interrupted by the buzzer going off in your flat. “Shit,” you huff as you scurry over to the intercom. You buzzed him in as you writhed your hands in anticipation, pacing your living room floor. Your eyes dart to the box. Should you move it? Keep it close to the door? If you keep it next to the door does it say you want him out for good? What if you put it on the table? Is that more of a welcome in? Should you let him come in?

Too many thoughts clouded your mind before a gentle knock sounded on the door. Your heart froze and you stopped in the living room. “Bloody hell,” you breathe out as you look at yourself in the mirror, checking your hair and smiling to see if anything was in your teeth. “It’s just goodbye, (Y/N). Just goodbye,” you tell yourself before you walk over to the door, undoing the latches and locks.

When you swing it open, George stands there, fresh from a shower it looks like. His hair is slightly damp, hanging on his head rather than spiked up and slicked back like it usually was. Like you loved it. A gray t-shirt hung on his body, clinging on his arms, the front tucked into dark wash jeans. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he huffs with a small smile. “Work was crazy and I had to take a shower before I came over. I hope you don’t mind,” he speaks.

You gulp, trying not to blurt out how good he looked right now, the scent of his cologne making your body tingle as if it was some sick love potion. “Not at all,” you manage to say instead, thankfully. “Uh,” you tremble before looking down on the other side of the door to the box that taunted you. Picking it up from the floor, you extend it out to him. “This should be everything.”

George takes it from your arms and huffs, “Great.” He holds it in one of his arms with ease, his biceps flexing under his gray shirt as you watch, eyes hungry. This was some kind of sick joke, wasn’t it? With his other hand, he rummages through the piles, making sure he had everything. “Uh, my quidditch jumper is not in here?” he asks, but it was more of a matter of fact.

Damn it. You had been caught. You had to come up with something, quickly. “Oh! Yeah! I forgot!” you try to act surprised. “It’s, uh, I washed it. Yeah, um, it’s in my room,” you close your eyes and shake your head. “One minute. You can come in if you want,” you open the door wider as George smiles and makes his way in your flat as if it were his first time here when in reality, he did have his own set of keys. You shut the door and watch him awkwardly stand into the living room, watching you. “Alright then.”

You scurry into your bedroom and push open your closet door, shuffling through the hangers, finding George’s quidditch jumper proudly hanging in the back in it’s crimson and gold glory. Plucking it from the hanger, you sigh in defeat. So much for that endeavor. You flip around to run back into the kitchen where George was waiting, but you were startled to see that he had followed you into your bedroom. “Oh,” you jump.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles. “I didn’t know if I should have followed you or...” he trails off, awkwardly as you gulp and nod your head. “Seems like you found it.”

“Yeah, here it is,” you hand it to him, trying to savor the feeling of the knit material in your fingertips. It would be the last time you felt that material for a while. “Sorry about this mix up,” you tuck your hands into your sweatpants pockets, rocking back and forth on your heels.

George smiles and shakes his head, “No need to apologize. Honest mistake,” he speaks as you nod your head with an awkward chuckle. Yeah, honest mistake... “I’ll, uh, I’ll head out then, yeah?” he asks with raised brows.

You nod, “Sure. Yeah. Yeah.”

The two of you start to make your way out of your room, but George stops in his tracks when something catches his eye. You stop and follow his line of sight that landed on a framed picture of the two of you from one of your first holidays together. In the photograph, George held up the camera at the two of you, his arm wrapped around you tightly as you leaned into his chest, cuddling into his tall figure. The both of you were mid-laughter, the beautiful beach behind you, the sun fading the back. George smiled softly at the photo as you watched his face shift, your heart fluttering at his reaction. “That was a good holiday, wasn’t it?” he chuckles, walking towards your dresser where the frame stood proudly. It had been two weeks since the break up, but you didn’t bother taking any photos out of the frames yet. You couldn’t bare it. That would mean George was gone for good.

You smile softly and walk next to him as he gazes at the photograph, all the memories resurfacing of the beautiful beach and the small cabana George had gotten for the two of you with the graduation money he had saved up. “It was,” you recall. “It was like a dream, honestly. We were so young back then,” you say in disbelief. It was true. You were both just eighteen in that picture and now here you were, twenty two, post-break up. The two of you had grown up so much since that holiday. You wish you could jump through the picture and tell your younger self to relish in every moment you had with George because each moment was beautiful.

George laughs, “We look so young. Merlin...” The two of you chuckle at the photo. “We were so happy,” he sighs before looking at you. You don’t dare peel your eyes from the photograph, knowing that if you look at him right now, you’d melt and give into him. “Look at me please,” he speaks just above a whisper.

Shaking your head, you speak, “I can’t, Georgie. I can’t bear it.”

His heart flutters at your nickname for him. “I want to take a look at your eyes. A good look. One last time and I promise I’ll go.” George reaches out and touches your hand gently, as if you were made of glass and the slightest touch would break you. “(Y/N).”

With a gulp and mustering up all your courage, you turn your gaze to his and your heart melts at the sight. If a look could speak. His eyes were so sad, but filled with so much longing and love and adoration. The face you loved so much, full of so much tenderness, staring down at you. He made you feel like you were the only person who mattered. Because to George, you were.

The two of you are just looking at each other, absorbing each other’s features as much as possible before one of you dares to speak up. Slowly, George reaches up and cups your face, like you were so used to. “George,” you sigh out breathlessly as you lean into his touch, tears welling up in your eyes. You can’t believe you had to let him go. “I just want to be happy again. With you.”

George gives you a sad smile, “I do too, angel. More than anything. It’s my only wish. Even if it’s just for another day.”

His words make the wheels start churning in your head as you lick your lips before saying, “Then let us have one more day. One more night together. I don’t care if it’s temporary. I just want one last memory with you, Georgie.”

George’s eyes search yours as you desperately hold onto him, needing him, wanting him, yearning for him. George brings your face to his, connecting your lips in a kiss that was unlike any other kiss you’ve ever had. It made the hair on your neck stand up. Your arms wrap around his neck as his wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The kiss is full of urgency and desire, as if you didn’t take each other right now, there wouldn’t be another opportunity for this.

You break apart from the kiss to pull George’s shirt over his head as he does the same to you only to reconnect your kiss. His lips move against yours, hungrily, passionately as you moan gently into his mouth. George grabs your thighs and hoists you up as you wrap your legs around his torso as he walks over to the bed, laying you down gently, kissing your lips, neck, and collarbones. His lips leave trails of wet kisses as you run your finger through his still damp hair, tugging on it gently. “Please, George, please,” you whine as he kisses the valley between your breasts.

He pulls himself away from your chest to kiss your lips again. “Anything you want, angel. Say the word and I’m all yours,” he tells you, brushing your hair gently. You grab his face and pull him down to connect your lips again, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you arch your back, pushing your chest into his. His tongue massages yours as his hands unclasp your bra, throwing it to the floor.

“I want you to make love to me,” you mumble against his mouth as George smiles softly, his heart fluttering. “I want you to make love to me, Georgie. I want to remember this night for the rest of my life.”

“Anything, angel. Anything you want,” he repeats himself as you both breathily laugh, reconnecting your lips, stripping the other of their remaining clothes. Soon enough, the two of you are naked and George breathes out, “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You connect your lips again before you place kisses along George’s jawline as he hovers over you, lining himself up to your entrance, pulling your legs farther open as you wrap them around his torso. George runs the tip of his hard dick up your wet pussy as you bite down on your lip with a sharp inhale. “Please, baby, please,” you beg him which only makes George obey you, pushing his whole length into your aching core as you both moan out in satisfaction. He fills you up in a way that is so familiar and delightful as you dig your nails into his biceps. “Shit,” you moan out as George starts to move, thrusting in and out of you slowly.

“Fucking hell,” George groans out. “You feel fucking incredible,” he breathes out, his hips moving smoothly against yours, pumping his hard cock in and out as your walls tighten around him. “You like that, baby?”

With a whimper, you moan out, “I love it, baby. Keep going, don’t stop. I love the way you fuck me. Fuck, George.” George continues to thrust in and out, picking up his pace, going in deeper as your eyes flutter shut. Your nails dig deeper into his shoulder as you groan, “Right there, baby, right there. Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Your praise makes George push your legs open wider so he can push impossibly deeper into you, before hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder, making the both of you cry out in euphoria. “Shit, I love the way you feel wrapped around me. Say my name, baby,” George groans.

“Oh, George, fuck, baby,” you moan out louder, head tossed back against your sheets as George buries his face in your neck as you hold onto him. He pounds into you deeper as you are panting in a state of nirvana. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” you dig your nails into George’s flesh as he presses love bites into your neck.

He looks at you and speaks, “Look at me, angel. I want you to cum looking into my eyes, baby.” You peel your eyes open and look into his brown eyes, dark with a mixture of lust and love. “I love you, angel.”

As he continues to thrust, you feel the familiar knotting feeling in your stomach as your jaw drops. “I love you,” you breathe out, looking deep into George’s eyes. “I love you so much, baby. I love you, I love you.”

“I love you, I love you,” George repeats as you reach your climax, crying out his name in pleasure, head rolling back as you clutch the sheets, coming all over his dick. Shortly after, George finishes, moaning out your name, the both of you a symphony of moans and heavy breathing.

The two of you come down from your highs as he pulls out and lays on the bed next to you, chests heavy with the rise and fall of incoming and outgoing breaths. You run your fingers through your hair before rolling onto your side to face George who stares at the ceiling. A small smile is on your lips as you place a hand on George’s chest. He turn his gaze to you and a toothy grin is on your face as you giggle, George pulling you close to him with a breathy chuckle. He places a kiss to your temple. The two of you cuddle next to each other, naked underneath your sheets, happy to be resting in each other’s arms.

That is until George speaks, “You didn’t really wash my jumper did you? You were trying to keep it in hopes I didn’t notice, weren’t you?” You can hear the smile in his voice as you roll your eyes. “You were!”

You sit up, “I was not!”

George laughs, “You cheeky little thing! You were trying to steal my clothes from me after we broke up!”

The two of you are in a fit of laughs, laying next to each other, enjoying the feeling of skin on skin next to each other. You rest your head on George’s chest as he rubs your back. “I wish we could be this happy all the time,” you confess as George sighs, wishing the same thing. But the two of you knew that this wasn’t working anymore. The break up was for the best.

“I do too, my love,” he agrees. “But I don’t want to focus on what we wish could happen. Let’s just enjoy tonight while we have it, okay?” he speaks as you nod, cuddling further into his touch. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Minutes later, the two of you had fallen asleep, entangled in each others arms, the last words on your lips being confessions of love.

The morning comes as quickly as you fell asleep. You stretch your arms out and pat the area of the bed next to you, searching for George. But you quickly realize that your George wasn’t there.

In his place was a piece of parchment that had scribbled onto it, I didn’t want to leave before you woke up, but work calls sadly. Thank you for last night. It was the best night of my life. I love you, (Y/N). I always have and I always will. That will never change. You are my angel. Love always, Your George. P.S. You can keep the jumper. It looked better on you anyway.

A few feet away from the note was the jumper on the edge of the bed, laid out in it’s glory as a small smile made its way onto your face. You reach over and pull the jumper onto your naked body, inhaling the fabric that smelt so much of George, making your heart flutter. “Maybe someday,” you whisper. “Maybe someday, my love.”

#Fred and George #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #george weasley #george weasley x #george weasley x reader #george weasley x reader imagine #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george wealsey x fem #george weasley x fem #george weasley x fem! reader #george weasley x fem reader #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter Smut #harry imagine #george weasley smut

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spencersawkward · 3 years

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I love your ff first of all, I'm obsessed and second of all I would ask you a suggestion, idk if maybe is that too much and you're totally free to not do that but you ever thought to do something in the line of the knive kink? I think it will be awesome

i'm so sorry this took so long! big thanks to my guardian angel @voidsfilm for giving me inspiration bc i literally struggled with this one more than i should have. never written a knife kink but i’m glad i tried lol.

summary: reader finds an antique knife that Matthew's kept in a drawer.

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, oral (male receiving), knife play (no blood drawn), Soft!Dom MGG, degradation and praise.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

if there is one thing I absolutely despise, it's working out. getting sweaty, running until my legs hurt and my lungs are burning for air... not really my thing.

but when Matthew brought up the idea a couple months into our relationship, I couldn't say no to him: he had a goofy smile on his face and the kind of look in his eyes that made me relent and ask what kind of stuff he wanted to do.

I think that I've found the one thing that Matthew can't make fun.

"I'm gonna pass out." I bend over and set my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Matthew slows to a stop a few feet ahead, turning around and making a strained expression.

"oh, come on." but his voice is pretty breathless, too. he gently guides me off the path so that we don't get in the way of the other people out enjoying the day. a couple walks by us with their dog, strolling calmly, and I feel a rush of envy. if our workout routine had consisted of a few pleasant ambles around the city, I would have been totally willing.

"Matthew, I wanna go home." I whine impatiently. the only nice thing about this is that he's got one of those stupid sweatbands on his head to keep his hair out of his face, and it makes him look like a 1980's housewife.

"we can go home in fifteen minutes." he smiles, puts his hands on his hips, stretching in an exaggerated way.

"do you promise?" I brush a piece of hair out of my face.

"promise," he's lucky he looks so cute in his workout outfit. "we can even get one of those fancy juices for you on the way back."

"seriously?" I light up. this might actually be worth it; they have this amazing mango and lime combination that I can't ever manage to recreate with our own blender.

"if you beat me to the rock, then sure." he references the enormous boulder in Central Park that we both gawked at on our first date-- ever since then, it's been the end point for our runs. my lips curl into a grin.

"you're on." I take off, making sure to push him out of the way in order to gain a head start. he lets out something of a protestation but is quick to follow. I can feel his feet pounding behind me, trying to catch up.

I may not be good at running long distances, but I'm sure as hell faster than he is.

...

it's quiet when I step out of the bedroom, drying my hair with the towel and wandering into the living room. Matthew is sitting at the table with his sketchbook, drawing god knows what while he waits for me to finish up.

"what are you up to?" I ask softly as I plop down across from him. my head is slightly tilted while the towel rubs my scalp.

"I'm not really sure." he shrugs, frowning and holding up the notebook from a distance as if that'll help him figure out what to do.

"can I see when you're done?"

"of course," he sets it on the table again, then runs a fingertip across his chin. "actually, can you do me a favor?"

"sure."

"I have a set of colored pencils in the desk over there," he points to an old piece of furniture under the window. "would you mind getting them for me?"

"yep," I reply, getting up and leaving the towel on the table. "least I can do after kicking your ass."

on the walk past him, Matthew grabs my waist and pulls me into him, attacks me with tickles. I squeal and hit his shoulder.

"stop!" I laugh.

"you barely beat me!" he gives a dazzling smile and finally lets me go. I lightly smack him upside the head and head over to the desk, rifling through the drawers for the colored pencils he wanted.

as I push around various art supplies, glue sticks and random paintbrushes that look to be on the brink of falling apart, my fingers pass something cool and metallic. I grab the thing and pull it out.

it's a knife; like, a fancy one with an intricately decorated handle and what seems to be a pretty dulled edge. before he can notice what I've found, I start to move the thing between my hands curiously. there's a nice weight to it, but it's definitely old.

"hey, Matthew?" I ask warily.

"yeah?" so unassuming and sweet.

"why do you have a knife?"

there's a scratching as he gets up from the table to walk over to me. I lean against the desk. Matthew doesn't seem too bothered by what I'm saying at all, only gently taking the weapon out of my hands and examining it himself.

"oh, yeah!" he lets out something like a laugh. I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to continue. "do you remember when we went antiquing in Cape Cod, like, a month ago?"

"yeah." I nod at the memory. he'd been lucky enough to get some vacation days and we'd spent them sitting by the water with glasses of wine and nothing but time to talk. it really was a great trip, now that I think about it.

"I found it there." he still hasn't looked up and I realize that there's something he's not telling me. I don't know what I'm missing, but I start to get nervous.

"...why?"

"I was gonna ask then, but I guess I just forgot." his tongue darts out across his bottom lip as he lifts his face to meet my gaze. my heart thuds when he opens his mouth again. "I kinda wanted to try something."

"like?"

"I've been thinking about maybe using knives... in a sexual way."

"what?" I frown, confused by his wording. Matthew seems to realize that he's phrased it awkwardly and shifts his stance. he keeps glancing between the object and my face like he's worried about scaring me away.

"I don't mean I'm gonna stab you or anything," he laughs. "I just mean I think it sounds fun."

my hand finds his, brushing my palm over the steel to touch it myself again. there's a curiosity that burns through me now, something I'm a little unsure about but not enough so to deny the possibility of trying it.

"what do you wanna do with it?" I peek up at him. he bites his lip. we're speaking in gentle tones and I notice that our bodies have gotten closer within the last few moments. a warmth, a tension.

"like, pressing the blade flat against your skin while I fuck you." he takes the thing and demonstrates. the cool silver rests on my neck, too dull to really threaten a serious cut if he were to move too quickly. a shiver runs down my spine at the sensation of the metal.

I gulp, feel the curve of my throat push against it when I swallow. it's nice.

"oh." is all I say. Matthew is watching me intently, but he doesn't make any motion away from it. like he's entranced by the sight of me with a knife to my throat.

"are you interested?" he asks.

I mull it over. on the one hand, weapon play is something I've never considered in my sex life before. Matthew and I aren't vanilla, but this hasn't crossed my mind. that said, now that I can really feel it, there is a desire forming in my stomach. it would be a strange, new sensation.

"yes." the confirmation makes him smile a little. he lowers the thing and instead wraps me in his arms, kisses me passionately until our tongues are dancing over each other. I love how he holds me, our torsos against each other while my body leans slightly back to accept the weight of his touch.

he goes to my head like alcohol. and it's even more surreal when I feel the blade move under the hem of my shirt to rest against my back. I smile into his mouth. he doesn't do anything with it, just leaves it to remind me.

he starts to rut his hips against my lower stomach, getting aroused at the proximity of our bodies and the heated nature of our kiss. there's an urgency to all of it, like he's holding back. I don't want him to hold back; I want him to give me everything he has, everything beneath the surface.

my fingers twine in his hair and tug on the ends, causing him to groan into our embrace. there's no way we're going to make it all the way to the bedroom with the way he's grabbing at my body, so I stumble backwards towards the couch until the backs of my thighs hit the arm of it.

"you're horny." I giggle slightly when he pushes the hem of my shirt up my body, his nails dragging over my ribcage and trailing the object along with it. I feel the excitement growing.

"I'm just glad you're willing to try this." he murmurs the words, holds our foreheads together before his lips eagerly seek mine out, again. somehow, even with a weapon leveled against me, I can sense the love in every single action. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't trust him to treat me with the utmost care.

I work at the buttons of his shirt, pushing it over his lovely shoulders and arms as he unclasps my bra. we're fervent, greedy in our movements, trying to kiss despite the attention needed to remove our clothes. mostly we just tangle up in each other until there's nothing left but my shorts for him to shove down my legs. he keeps his pants on.

"c'mon, beautiful." he mutters, pushing my legs open so that I'm sitting on the arm of the couch. he tilts my head and leans closer to suck on my bottom lip, and then starts to massage my tits. I can feel the handle of the weapon against my nipple.

when he reaches to slide his finger between my folds, I hiss out a breath at the cold sensation of his skin.

"is this because of me or the knife, baby?" he asks, corners of his mouth twitching up while I moan into his mouth. he starts to rub my clit with the collected wetness, teasing me too much. I want to fall back, but I can't. I won't let myself.

"both." I find myself turned on by the way the blade sits against my ribs again. the edge is just sharp enough to elicit a reaction from my body.

"feel that?" he angles the thing the slightest bit. I exhale and nod.

that isn't the response he's looking for, however, because he moves it so that it's under my chin. goosebumps on my skin while I pant uselessly against the weapon. I can feel it press harder with every breath out of my lungs, and I love it. I love the risk it brings out of me.

while Matthew dips his index inside my pussy, I writhe against it and tilt my head even more so he has better access.

"look at you," he lets out a dark chuckle, thrusts into me to the last digit. "you want more of this, don't you?"

"yes, sir." I breathe. my neck is actively moving against the metal. I glance down at his body and see his erection straining against his pants, craving release but finding none as he plunges his fingers in and out of me. I can hardly breathe from sheer focus on the sensations he's giving me right now.

"what are you looking at, sweetheart?" he quickens the pace of his movements and uses the object to make me focus on his face.

"you're hard." the words nearly die on my lips. he stares darkly at me, lifting his brows just enough to make me question whether I should have spoken at all. I bite my lip in anticipation.

"and what are you gonna do about it?" his voice is raspy as he stands back, removes his fingers from my pussy, and lets me drop to my knees. I'm weak both from the stimulation and from the loss of it, but I make quick work of undoing his belt, pulling the pants down his legs until I'm face-to-face with his cock. it sits against his stomach, throbbing impatiently while he watches. he uses the metallic point under my jaw to angle my face up to his.

"are you gonna suck me off, baby?" he smirks. I nod rigorously with wide eyes and an open mouth, dragging my tongue along the underside. Matthew's nose scrunches up for a moment at the shock of contact when I tease the head. all his concentration is on watching me wrap my hand around the shaft and pumping him gently. "spit on it."

I obey and spit right onto the tip before rubbing my thumb over the top to gather the precum. as I start to swirl my tongue and move my lips onto him, he throws his head back, lets out a wanton noise. it urges me on. I take every moment with a deliberate attention to the veins and sensitive spot he has.

"that's it, that's it." he rasps while knotting his hand in my hair. the other keeps the knife pressed to my throat. he lets me move on my own for a bit, gauging my desires from the way my eyes attempt to memorize the sight of his face above me, that jaw dropped in licentious craving. I can tell that he wants to fuck my face, but I go slow just to draw it out a little. it makes the soreness of my jaw worth it when he gets all impatient and flustered.

I hollow my cheeks and bob on his dick, bat my lashes, pull myself off him for a second just to kiss the tip.

"can I use your mouth?" he asks through a restrained groan. I open it and nod, sighing at the feeling of his fingers twining through my hair again before he pushes back into the opening. now that he's got full control, he starts to develop his own movements, sometimes meeting his thrusts by pressing my face against him.

he gets deep in it, never losing his grip on the knife, until my nose is pressed to his stomach. my throat closes instinctively around him even more tightly, and he lets out a guttural moan.

"such a cute mouth when I'm using it." he thrusts until I gag and then he's smiling. "get up."

he removes himself so fast, my eyes water at the sudden lack of blockage in my throat. I gulp air while he hooks his hands under my arms and hoists me up. I'm about to turn around so I can lift my leg and give him better access, but he sits me on the arm of the couch and parts my thighs.

"I wanna see your pretty face." he leans down and pecks my cheek. I smile at the surprising tenderness-- although it doesn't last long. steel sits against the space between my neck and collarbone. it's only a moment before he positions himself between my legs and slides his cock into me.

my back arches and I look him in the eyes, gasping.

"fuck, baby." he drags out the first word as he inches inside. I mewl helplessly at the way he stretches me out, my pussy clenching every few seconds. he keeps one hand on my lower back to support me and bring me closer to his pelvis, and then we're staring into each other's eyes as he finally settles in it.

his hips start to thrust into me, hopeful for any kind of contact while I accustom myself to the shape of him. it happens every time, despite the amount of times we've done this. and I'm bad at patience, but he's worse. his body stutters against mine.

"is it good enough, sir?" I ask quietly. he tightens his grip on my back and on the blade, the edge threatening my skin the perfect amount. I suck in a breath at the way it stings a little.

"you're doing perfectly." he recognizes what I want to hear as he finds my sweet spot and begins to hit it repeatedly, smoothly works my body. I swear there are planets in my eyes when I stare at the expressions on his face, both of us so wrapped up in each other that every other thought becomes obsolete.

he moves the knife to under my chin to rest on my throat.

"feel that?"

I nod so the edge bites more. he smirks.

"just to show you who you belong to."

my hips push up to meet his thrusts, needing more stimulation, more friction. what I want is for him to be relentless, to slam into my body with the kind of hunger I know he has. there are sounds, movements, that he's made before that make me want him to use them. but he's withholding, probably hesitant about the dangerous object on my pulse point.

"I belong to you, sir." I egg him on. he likes the sound of that, grunting and starting to pound into me.

"yeah? you're my dirty little whore." he speaks through gritted teeth. I shiver.

"mhmm."

"I use you how I want, when I want." his fingertips dig into my skin and he yanks me closer so that he can hit a new angle. I let out a surprised noise when he brushes my g-spot. it's otherworldly and I expose more of my neck to him.

"my little slut likes pain, huh?" he nudges the weapon harder into my skin. it doesn't draw blood, but I can sense the mark it'll leave. I love it.

"yes, sir." we're both getting needy, but we can't hold each other the way that we want to in our given positions. my palms are occupied on the arm of the couch to hold myself up and one of his hands is too busy holding the object for us to fuck as deeply as we need.

"are you gonna take it like a good girl when I cum in it?" he mutters. he runs his tongue over my jawline and the weapon nicks my skin. I moan at the mingling of sensations that's building all across my body.

"yes, sir." I plead. it's nearly unbearable, how much I want him. we're chasing our orgasms and I know what will finish me off. he knows, too.

Matthew drops the knife. it clatters to the ground, but there's no time for me to register it with the way he grabs my hips and lifts me into the air, my legs wrapping around his waist while he keeps fucking into me. he maneuvers us with shocking ease, laying me on the couch and positioning himself at the right moment so that I can drag my nails over his back and keep my thighs locked around him.

"mmm... baby, I'm gonna cum." he drives into me recklessly, both of us finally able to cling to each other. the angle is just enough to stimulate my clit and I nod, using the leverage of my legs to pull myself to him and roll my hips for friction.

Matthew slams my body into the couch, grunting in my ear as he finds his climax inside me. it's so deep, I have to work to keep the yell inside, but he's not done. he rides it out and plows into me while I reach the edge.

"tell me how it feels." he orders in my ear. I sigh.

"so-- so good, sir." my voice is thin. "I'm close."

"show me." he leaves bruises on my hips with his hands. I feel the knot finally snap, every muscle in my stomach spasming chaotically. I finish with a loud moan, begging him to drag it out further. my vision nearly goes black at the tide that threatens to overtake my body.

"Matthew--" I gasp. he moans quietly at the way I say his name, still rocking his body into mine while I come down from the shocks of orgasm. it's nearly overwhelming, the pleasure running through my body.

slowly, we come to a stillness and he drops his head into my shoulder, panting. he doesn't let go at first, but then he withdraws from my pussy and lets me take a rest. I lay there on the couch while he kneels between my legs, pressing gentle kisses to my neck.

"I love you." he repeats it over and over.

"I love you, too," I hope he can feel the meaning, despite the sheer exhaustion in my tone. he runs his fingertips across the red marks where the thing went a little too deeply, but I'm not worried about it. "we should try that again, sometime."

"you liked it?" he smiles brightly. I love the lines by his eyes.

"definitely."

he lets out a cheerful noise and buries his face back into my throat because he knows how much it tickles. I screech and giggle, my legs kicking wildly around me. more contented than ever before.

#mgg #matthew gray gubler #mgg oneshot #mgg smut #mgg x reader #knife kink #knifeplay

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 297: We’re Bustin’ Outta This Joint

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi did his best to undo all of the good vibes from the Girl Power arc by killing off Midnight. It sucks and I still don’t like it, but it is what it is. Unfortunately, Not Killing Off Your One Female Teacher Character With Any Character Development was worth 30% of his grade for the semester, so it brought his average down all the way to a C-, and so he and his report card will just have to live with that. Meanwhile Ochako did some rescuing, and the other U.A. kids lay around unconscious and/or traumatized. The chapter ended with an abrupt cut to Tartarus, where AFO is apparently just chilling and waiting for the Nearly High Ends to come bust him free. What kind of a cliffhanger is that to leave your fans hanging on for three whole weeks. Who’s suffering more here, the characters or the readers.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “okay I know you all want to know what happens to Deku and Shouto and the rest, but have you considered finding out what happens to Overhaul and Muscular and Moonfish and New Girl Character instead?” Fandom is all, “you had us at New Girl Character.” Seiji’s dad is all, “I’m just going to say a bunch of stuff to help make sure none of the readers feel conflicted about cheering on a bunch of mass murderers escaping from prison.” Tomura is all, “dammit AFO why are you still here.” AFO is all, “shhh, Tomura, go back to sleep.” Tomura is all, “wtf but you’re literally hijacking my body and continuing to shred it to bits while we break into BnHA Alcatraz to recruit your own personal Suicide Squad.” AFO is all, “:).” Real!AFO is all, “HERE I AM, EVERYONE, SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING.” And then the chapter ends. Geez.

oh shit lol it’s a whole big fucking page all about Tartarus

my very first thought was “that’s a long-ass fucking bridge”, and then I went to go google “longest bridges”, and Wikipedia was all “son there are literally a hundred and fifty bridges in the real world longer than 5km, and the longest one is actually 165km”, and I was all “oh shit I really don’t know jack shit about bridges.” then I looked at the list for a few more minutes and realized that the super-long bridges were all built over land, and that the longest bridge over water is only 38km. which is way more reasonable, but also still really fucking long though?? ngl I would freak the fuck out on that bridge. what does any of this have to do with Tartarus you ask?? absolutely nothing, I literally forgot I was reading a chapter for a sec lol uh

anyway, my parting thought on the bridge is that it kind of defeats the whole purpose of having a giant island fortress prison, but whatever. moving on

and the six levels thing is straight out of One Piece lol. something tells me BnHA’s prison break arc isn’t going to be quite as fun. hmm

so now we’re cutting to “the Bronze Gate”, which is the main entrance off of the bridge, and some goat-looking motherfucker is out here trying to become my new favorite character. bro

SON OF A BITCH WHAT’S WITH THE BULLETS FLYING IN THE BACKGROUND. DON’T TELL ME THEY’RE SHOOTING AT GYGES. THEY CAN’T KILL OFF MY FRESHEST HOMIE GYGES. SURELY THEY WOULDN’T

ooh and now, giant robots!

giant robots with machine guns. “I’m very sorry I killed off Midnight, makeste” you know what, fuck you Horikoshi. thinking you can buy my affections back so easily

does Gyges have six arms??? look how fucking calm he is announcing the code red security lockdown, holy shit. GYGES

NOOOO

NO NOT BRIAREUS. THIS DAY EXACTS A HEAVY TOLL

YO, WHAT

he came there himself?? so much for making the Noumus do his dirty work. and based on the speech bubble shape and font, this is still AFO talking

uh oh what’s happening

is he using Decay or is his arm just sort of crumbling to pieces because he hasn’t had time to heal up yet? if it’s the former this prison break is going to set a record for shortest arc yet isn’t it

now we’re cutting to B10 which is apparently the lowest level. but do they mean lowest as in the least security, or lowest as in the deepest underground, a.k.a. the most security? idk it’s confusing and I think they should be more specific. is it B like in basement?? are there six levels or ten?? stupid Tartarus

anyway so the guards are talking about how Gigantomachia is scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning. heh. will there even be a Tartarus tomorrow morning

(ETA: WELL, UH.)

wow they’re talking about just killing him outright. damn

I kinda feel like “prison guard” is one of those jobs that just sort of naturally attracts shitty people. anyways yeah, Seiji your dad is a real piece of work

and he’s even doubling down on it after the other guy repeatedly keeps trying to hush him up. dude we get it, you’re an asshole

ooh and now we’re getting an interesting look at the various prisoners, some of whom look suspiciously familiar!

for starters, that’s definitely Moonfish in the upper left corner, I’m like 99% sure. not quite clear who that is across from him in the upper right, but it’s been a hot minute since we saw Muscular, so maybe?

and could that be Overhaul in the panel beneath him?? they’re not showing his face so I assume it’s someone we’d recognize, and he’s the only currently-incarcerated villain with that haircut as far as I can recall. though it seems weird that he’s not restrained more given his quirk. I thought Horikoshi mentioned in Ultra Analysis that he’d gotten it back somehow. eh well we will wait for answers

I don’t recognize the person to his left either (though she has an oddly familiar look to her?). but the person on the bottom right, next to Kurogiri... is it Stain?? the hair and body language are sure giving off Stain vibes. if someone had told the me from two years ago that I’d actually be excited to see Stain again I would have said you were full of shit. and yet here we are. these sure are interesting times

anyway so now the Code Red intruder alarm is blaring. and I gotta say, that one scene sure was effective at killing any sympathy I might have been inclined to feel for these guards lol. bring on the imminent massacre

“what horrible timing” lol yes. it’s almost as if they planned it that way

uh oh

is he omae wa shindeiruing. watch your six, Mr. Prison Guard

oh shit

WHAT DID I SAY. WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY. but nooo, you all were all, “but a bridge is more convenient!” VERY WELL THEN, LIE IN THE BED THAT YOU HAVE MADE

anyway so it’s the High Ends lol. I mean we already knew it was them. let’s just get on with it

omfg Tomura ARE YOU RIDING ONE

WHAT ARE YOU, A NAZGUL. WHY IS THIS MY FAVORITE THING

and it looks like it actually is Tomura again, too (as opposed to AFOmura)

-- is he using Decay on himself?? is that what it is?? or no wait, is this just more of the weird side effect shit that’s been happening since he Awakened. actually yeah never mind that’s clearly what it is

y’all this man is out here having a full blown argument with himself

so this is equal parts compelling and hilarious to me right now lol. like I feel so bad for Tomura, but I also lowkey want to see how far this escalates. like do you think he’d go as far as to punch himself in the face. where will this journey lead us

fucking look at this shit

other people have already mentioned this, but with this scene especially it makes me really curious how they’re going to show this in the anime. will it be AFO’s voice coming out of Tomura’s mouth? or Tomura’s voice using AFO’s speech patterns? more importantly, will it be cool and dramatic, or will it actually wind up being hilarious? or both?? never count out both

also he’s looking pretty good there in that bottom panel with his one eye just barely visible. that doesn’t have anything to do with anything, but here I am, pointing it out

also also, lol at Tomura being all, “the fuck do you mean, ‘rest’, you’re the one that dragged my body out here to raid a fucking prison,” and AFO being all, “oh yeah, lol, true true, but I meant rest after that.” yes, this man clearly has nothing but the purest intentions, Tomura. trustworthy af

this fucking guy. Tomura is your bullshit radar finally operational yet?? can you see yet that it was always his intention to use you right from the very start?? oh man I am starting to get fidgety now listening to this

so Tomura’s saying he doesn’t just want to be used as a chess piece. and AFO is all, “well okay but what if it’s a VERY NICE AND IMPORTANT chess piece.” bro DID HE STUTTER

-- AHH BUT NEVER MIND THAT, HERE IT IS, THIS IS WHERE THE FUN STARTS OMG

GO ON AND ACQUIRE THEM THEN! omg. why am I so fucking excited. it seriously makes no sense. like seriously, ‘hooray, our old buddies, Overhaul and Stain!!’ -- come again now?? who is this person that I have become

meanwhile AFO is making all this fuss and I really don’t understand it though

why would you need to plow directly through the building. why can’t you just use doors like a normal person. it’s not like they can lock you out, like hello, you can literally turn anything you touch into dust, what’s with all the melodrama

anyway so he’s apparently hitting the prison with some sort of EMP attack now and shutting down all their systems

omg the suspense is killing me. this is going to be so badass once it’s animated, but right now all I keep thinking is “YES, GREAT, CAN WE PLEASE JUST MOVE IT ALONG”

the doors are opening ahhhhhhh come on come on come on let’s go let’s get to the excitement already

now the guards are running over to try and regain control. but, like

yeah that’s pretty much how I’m expecting the rest of this to go basically

so now they’re shooting at the dust cloud lol. well if there’s one thing movies have taught me, it’s that bad guys who wait inside clouds of dust while panicked cops blindly rain bullets at them until they run out of ammo are basically invincible lol. soooooo

OHHHHH SHIT

AHAHAHAHAHAHA. THEY ARE SO FUCKED LOL, SHIT

YEP, AND HERE’S ANOTHER ONE

is this the first time we’ve seen Moonfish’s face? I feel like we might have caught a glimpse of it before on an omake page or something. either way, it wasn’t anything I actually needed to see again. thanks...?? I guess??

okay but seriously, are we supposed to actually know who this badass lady is?? like I don’t know her but I feel like I know her, you feel?

(ETA: lol there are already like 60 different theories about how she’s related to every single character in the series. will be interesting to see if anything comes of this. although we did just get three “this villain was secretly related to [insert character(s) here] all along” reveals just in the last arc, so idk, it might be better if we pass on it this time lol.)

girl who are you. please stick around. for the love of god don’t let this man kill you off too

????

wait so is this Overhaul? boy sure has seen better days huh. but the floppy sleeves... yeah, it’s gotta be him

anyway so then the only ones missing are Stain and Kurogiri, yes?? omg. and one page left to go

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO CONVINCE ME HE COULDN’T HAVE DONE THIS SHIT RIGHT FROM THE VERY BEGINNING. FUCKING TIME-BIDING DRAMA QUEEN

AND HE’S JUST FLOATING HIS LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEM ALONG BEHIND HIM SOB. THIS FUCKING GUY

AND IS HE JUST ABSENTMINDEDLY DRAGGING SOME POOR SCHLUB’S CORPSE ALONG BESIDE HIM LIKE A SLEEPY TODDLER CARRYING THEIR TEDDY BEAR. I FUCKING CAN’T. REST IN PEACE, FRIEND. GIVE MY REGARDS TO GOOD OLD BRIAREUS

so that’s it! and we still don’t have any idea what AFO is actually planning to do now, after all of that. are they going to merge bodies?? or is he going to try to switch with him?? either way Tomura’s body has to be part of the plan somehow since he keeps making so much of a fuss over it. flkhglkhlk. dammit I need answers lol

#bnha 297 #shigaraki tomura #all for one #overhaul #muscular #moonfish #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #horikoshi where is gyges!!#your silence is defeaning #first midnight and now this #I am beside myself #r.i.p.

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shorkbrian · 4 years

Note

hirhuuruhurr step bro shinsou with his sister that loveD him before but now doesn't because they all of sudden ignores him, hates him, and sneers at him if he looks, touches or talks to her, maybe he even brings up how when they were kids she used to love her big brother so much ahurhurhuiirurhurrr if hating shinsou would be a job stepsis reader would be the richest person alive hurhrurhurr😳

Prelude - idek what this is im so sorry man hope it doesn’t disappoint

Pairing - Stepbrother Shinsou X Reader

Prompt - Right at the top babeyy

Warnings - NSFW, noncon, dubcon, blowjobs, cunnilingous, full on NSFW

Music - I listened to https://youtu.be/N8aSrLda8_Q on repeat. Doesn’t really fit the one shot but It’s what I listened to so

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

You were careful now, took precautions. You had a list of rules that you kept track of in your head, rules that kept you safe, rules that kept you sane. There weren’t many, but you clung to them nonetheless, let them be your mantra.

1. Never be alone in the same room. This one seemed easy. It was anything but. Always hovering and clinging to your mom had annoyed her after a while, and your dad was almost never home. But you managed the best you could. If you were in the kitchen and heard Shinsou say hi to your mom as he came through the door, headed for the kitchen, you would abandon ship. Leaving half-prepared food on the counters had gotten you in trouble a couple times, but you’d rather get scolded for a minute or two than get cornered by your stepbrother.

2. Always lock your door. Your mom didn’t understand why you broke down in tears when she denied your request to get a lock on your bedroom door. Thankfully, she backtracked, saying that if it was so important to you, dad would pick one up and install it that weekend. It made you feel better, even though you could never shake the feeling that you weren’t completely safe.

3. Don’t let him touch you. The most important of them all. No hugs, no high-fives. If you were sitting on the couch and Shinsou happened to sit next to you, you would immediately get up and move to a different seat. Your parents were oblivious, never questioned why. At the dinner table you started sitting next to your dad, where mom usually sat, instead of next to your stepbrother. Once again, your parents didn’t notice, though your mom had commented on your more-sour-than-normal moods multiple times.

She picked up on your refusal to be around your brother, how your face twisted into a frown whenever he got home from working at the carwash, the way you stiffened and got defensive if he was in the room. She chalked it up to a fight, siblings being siblings.

You wish it had been that simple.

It had been a fight, sort-of. You had tried to playfully punch him at first, when he dragged you to his room without telling you why. Shinsou probably just wanted to play video games or something, maybe he had gotten a new game and was excited about showing you?

But when he shut the door behind you two, he got rougher, grip tighter. He led you to the bed, asked you to sit down. You did. He asked you to suck him off, unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper of his jeans.

It was vague, you tried not to remember the details. You had hit him, punched him straight in the stomach, rising to your feet. He wasn’t expecting you to kick him between the legs. You weren’t expecting for him to hit you back, the force of his slap making you lose your balance, totter back and sit down heavily on the bed, face burning red. It hurt.

It didn’t stop hurting.

It hurt when he pulled your hair, guiding your mouth to his cock. You didn’t want to taste it, didn’t want anything to do with it. You didn’t like the smell, his pubes were scratchy on your face as he rubbed his cock over your face when you refused to part your lips.

It hurt when Shinsou got tired of that, when he shoved you onto your back and straddled your chest. You couldn’t breathe.

It hurt when he pinched your nose, forcing you to open your mouth or risk passing out.

Tears were clouding your vision by the time he finished, lungs burning, heart hurting.

No matter how hard you tried to forget, the memory was still there, was always there; consuming, haunting you.

——

You could barely stand to look at him now.

The purple-haired man acted as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t forced his cock down your throat, as if he hadn’t violated your trust. You hated him. He would try to talk to you, ask you how school was going or if you wanted to go hang out at the movies. If yours parents were in the room, you always gave him a curt “No”, but if it was just the two of you, Shinsou asking you through the locked door of your room, his questions were met with silence. Your stepbrother didn’t deserve anything from you.

Weeks passed, with Shinsou trying to interact with you and your blatant refusal to even acknowledge his presence. He had tried to pull you into a hug one day, right after you had gotten home from class. You had just come through the door, turning to shuck off your shoes before heading up to your room when arms encircled your chest, pulling you back into a lithe body. It was suffocating.

The second you saw purple hair out of the corner of your eye, you were thrashing, twisting in your brother’s strong grip, wriggling out of his grasp. He had let you go, and you turned, rounded on him like a wild animal - teeth bared, eyes full of fear.

Shinsou was silent, looking at you with an indiscernible emotion in his eyes. The both of you were frozen, staring at each other, daring one another to make the first move. Your brother reached out towards you, hand headed toward your hair as if to push the messy strands away from your face. You slapped his hand away with a flat “Don’t you fucking touch me.”, but your wrists were suddenly pressed together, Shinsou’s large hands trapping them in an iron grip, pulling you towards him before you had time to blink.

It was scary, pressed up against your brother, wrists immobilized, the man looking down at you with furrowed brows. Was he angry? He had no right to be. Without thinking, you were biting on his arm, a exclamation of pain being cursed out by your brother. He let you go, cradling his arm to his chest and you bolted, taking the steps two at a time to reach the safety of your room. He didn’t try to touch you after that.

Shinsou lingered more often now. You knew the man would hesitate outside your door, hear his gentle, even footsteps falter, pause before moving on to his own room further down the hall. When you were drifting off to sleep, your doorknob would rattle quietly, clicking as it turned, as someone tried to open it. You knew it was Shinsou; your parents would knock and ask to come in. You were so grateful for the lock. Still, whenever the noise was heard, you froze, fear clenching your muscles and making you breathless. It was impossible to relax until the noise stopped, until you heard the soft sigh from the other side of the door, then retreating footsteps.

It was always hard to sleep after that. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

—— “Alright honey, you have our numbers, you know to call if anything comes up! I love you!”

You waved to your mom, biting your lip as you watched your parents pull out of the driveway, watched their car disappear down the road. They were going on a trip, something with your dad’s work. Mom figured it would be a nice little getaway if she went with him, take some time just for the two of them. You knew she also figured that it would give you and your brother to work out whatever little ‘squabble’ that had seemed to sour your relationship. She had told you so, told you that she knew how siblings could be.

“You two just need to communicate, tell him what he said or did that has you so upset. He’s a rational guy, I’m sure he didn’t mean to make you angry with him. I’m sure the two of you can work it out.”

If only she knew.

You wanted to tell her. But how does one start a conversation like that? “Hey, just letting you know! Your son forced me to suck his dick! It was awful lol.” Just didn’t seem appropriate. Neither did “Your son scares the bejesus out of me! I’m afraid he’s going to rape me lol, please help haha!”. You were so ashamed. And now you were going to be stuck with Shinsou, by yourself, for a full two weeks.

At least you still had school. You could stay in your room when you weren’t at school, maybe you could hang out at the library too? Anything to get out of the house, away from your brother.

Shinsou had work, and you knew the basics of his schedule. Knew he left before you woke up in the morning. Got back around 3 or 4 in the afternoon. Was off Friday through Sunday. It should be easy enough to avoid him. He was gone right now, it being mid-morning on a Monday. Stepping back into the house, you took a deep breath, sinking down to a crouch after shutting the door. You could do this, stay safe, make it through the next two weeks without your parents around to act as a buffer between you and your brother.

—— You had just finished lunch, a simple affair of a crappy PB&J, and were sitting down to watch TV. There were some episodes of your favorite show that you wanted to catch up on, and now was the perfect time. Or, it would be if you didn’t hear keys rattling in the door.

A quick glance at the clock had you worried, the time being barely past 1. Shinsou wasn’t supposed to be home yet. Oh well, you figured you could just go hole up in your room, maybe work on homework or play computer games. As you turned off the TV, you heard the front door open, close, a soft grunt as Shinsou struggled to kick off his shoes.

Unfortunately, to get to the stairs you had to pass by the entryway, and the second you did, Shinsou noticed you.

“(Y/N), hey.”

You didn’t answer.

“I know you can hear me. Can I talk to you about something?”

He was following you up the steps, a menacing presence. “Shouldn’t you be at work? Leave me alone.” You were in the hallway now, socked feet padding softly as you quickened your pace.

“I’m getting two weeks off. I wanted to ask-“

“Why the hell are you getting two weeks off?”

You whirled around, bracing yourself in your doorway. If he tried to come in, you could slam the door in his face. But you wanted to know, why was he getting a vacation, especially now?

Shinsou had his hands in his pockets, looking off to the side as he shrugged. “I dunno…. Don’t really care either. But I was thinking, since mom and dad are gone-“

“I’m not doing anything, going anywhere, or talking to you. Stay the fuck away from me.” You cut him off, moving to shut the door, mind whirling as you tried to think how this impacted your ‘avoid-Shinsou-at-all-costs’ plan.

A foot stopped the door from closing, Shinsou grabbing the door with a hand and wrenching it open, out of your grasp. He looked frustrated, the small crease that showed up between his eyebrows when he was irritated was visible as you glanced at his face.

“Can you let me talk? You keep interrupting, it’s rude.”

“I don’t fucking care, let go of the door.” You grabbed the handle, tried to tug it shut. Shinsou wouldn’t let you.

“That’s another thing - you have such a dirty mouth. Didn’t anybody ever teach you that ladies shouldn’t swear? Your manners are atrocious.”

He was prying open the door, stepping inside, sneering down at you as he talked, voice low and full of venom. Small steps backward, you shot him a glare, staring into his stupid violet eyes. You hated him so much.

“Fuck off, what are you, an incel? Figures. Now get the hell out of my room.” Shinsou was scaring you, herding you further into your room. You wanted this conversation over, him gone, door closed and locked.

The man smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Or what? You’ll call mom? Dad?” Shinsou scoffed. “As if they’d believe you.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Y’know, I really did just want to talk.” Shinsou continued, reaching behind him to swing the door shut, clicking the lock into place. You started breathing harder, short gasping breaths. “But you are just have to be difficult, don’t you? Always so disrespectful.”

He was stepping towards you, backing you up against your bed. This couldn’t be happening, you were starting to feel sick to your stomach, dizzy, unable to breathe.

“Shinsou, get out. Get the fuck out, right now.” You hoped you sounded less scared than you felt - but you knew your voice sounded small, could hear the waver of fear underneath each word.

“No. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks now, not saying hi, not letting me hug you, sit next to you. I think you need to be taught some manners, need to learn a little respect.”

You were trapped now, legs pressed against your bed, Shinsou getting closer and closer. You couldn’t just sit there and take it like last time. A split-second decision and you were launching yourself to the side, trying to dodge around Shinsou, run to the door. If you could get out of the house, maybe you could convince your neighbors to let you stay with them.

Shinsou clotheslined you.

He fucking clotheslined you.

A choked yelp left your mouth as his arm slammed against your throat, the force causing you to stumble back, gripping at your throat. That was cheap. He was pushing you, shoving you onto your bed with almost no effort, his eyes boring into you, watching as your face turned red, eyes got puffy.

“Don’t make me hurt you, you know I can.”

“Shinsou don’t you fucking dar-“

“Shut up. Shut your stupid little mouth.” He cut you off, climbing onto your bed, hovering over you. He was breathing hard too, panting almost. “You need to be polite, be nice to your older brother. Stop cussing or else I’ll gag you, got it?”

Shinsou was grabbing your face, fingers digging into your jaw, the pressure too much for you to handle. There was no use fighting him. You nodded quickly, and he let go, leaning back. “Good. Now take off your shirt.”

Trying to think of a way out of this, you hesitated. The purple-haired man noticed. “Take off your shirt, or I’ll do it for you. Choose.”

With trembling hands, you removed your shirt. You hated him.

Shinsou was still sitting on his heels beside you on the bed, looking over your body, pleased. “Good girl. Now lay back, no no, don’t cover yourself. Lay down.”

You did as he asked, resting your back against the soft covers of your bed. You distantly realized you were going to have to throw out your bedding after this. There was no way you’d be able to sleep in it after this, even if you washed it.

Your brother stood, unbuckling his belt and shucking off his pants while you arranged yourself, and you looked away. You didn’t want to see him, see what he had between his legs. Yeah, It had been in your mouth, but you tried to forget about that. It threw you off guard when hands hooked around the hem of your shorts, your head whipping up to see Shinsou fully nude, sliding down your shorts and panties in one fluid movement. You wanted to kick at his face, give him a black eye. You would, if you weren’t terrified of what he would do to you after.

The man climbed back on the bed, patted your face gently as he moved to straddle your abdomen. You closed your eyes before you caught sight of his dick.

“Shinsou, don’t do this. You can’t, I’m your sister. Please.” It was worth a shot, begging him to leave you alone, put his clothes back on and the two of you could pretend this never happened.

“Be quiet. Let me enjoy you and I’ll make you feel good too, alright?”

You flinched when you felt his hands (they were always so cold) grip your chest, push your tits together. When he spat on the space between them, you almost gagged. Eyes still closed, you could feel him position his dick, begin sliding it in-between your chest. It didn’t hurt, but your head did. You wanted to stop.

Shinsou groaned, thrusting picking up speed, his cock dragging smoothly between your tits like it belonged there. He was using his hands not only to squeeze your chest together, but to play with your nipples, running a finger or two around each one, occasionally flicking them. You wouldn’t allow yourself to admit it felt kinda good.

It didn’t take too long, Shinsou desperately humping against your chest and moaning, before warm cum was striped across your chest, some of it landing on your neck. He must’ve been pent up for while - when he made you suck him off he lasted much longer. With a sigh, Shinsou shimmied down your body, noticing your flinch when his cock brushed against your stomach.

“I’m gonna clean you up, then we’ll play some more, don’t worry.”

You hated him.

Your eyes opened when you felt his tongue on your chest, and you realized with disgust that he was licking up his own cum, watching your face while he did so. It was filthy. You tried not to shiver when his tongue laved over your nipples, or when he latched onto your throat, sucking with a gentle intensity that made your insides tingle.

Before you had too much time to feel guilty about that, He was moving again, getting off of your body. Hopefully he was done? As he rearranged himself on his side, pulling you onto your side to face him, it was clear that he wasn’t. Shinsou had his semi-hard cock in your face, had his own face nudging towards your thighs, towards your trembling pussy. This was so disgusting.

“Shin-“

He slapped your pussy.

You yelped when his hand came in contact with your cunt, making you buck away from the sensation. Well, at least, you tried to. His other hand had a firm grip on your thigh, kept you on your side facing him.

“What have I told you? Do I really need to shove something in your mouth to shut you up? Put me in your mouth, no teeth or I’ll do something you won’t like.”

With a frown, you obeyed, gingerly grabbing his cock and leading it to your mouth. You had seen a few dicks before, and luckily his wasn’t crazy thick, or long, or thin. Admittedly, he had a nice, normal dick, in perfect proportion with his lean body. You didn’t want to put it in your mouth, but you didn’t want anything to happen to your pussy.

His dick was wet with spit and cum from where he was fucking it against your chest, and you wanted to gag as you licked at the tip, shuddering when Shinsou groaned low in his throat. Before you could think about it too much, you shoved as much of him in your mouth as you could handle, wrapping your hand around the rest that couldn’t fit.

Shinsou’s hips bucked forward, and you almost did gag, not expecting it. But you regained your composure, began sucking gently at his dick like it was a ring-pop, cringing at the salty taste that lingered on the soft skin.

You could feel him lifting up your thigh, leaning forward. You jumped when His tongue began running over your pussy lips, slicking you up with his saliva. Your own hips twitched, trying to resist moving at the heavenly sensation of his tongue running through your folds.

He was moaning into your pussy, tongue fucking you. You could feel him smile whenever he coaxed a noise out of you - could feel the vibrations of each gasp or trembling moan on his dick as you did your best to suck him off. It was becoming increasingly hard to keep your hips still, much more so when his tongue slipped out of your opening and came to flick over your clit.

Embarrassingly, you almost screamed when he wrapped his lips around the little nub, sucking with vigor. It was too much, you had to draw your head back and let his dick slip out of your mouth to give you room to cry.

He kept humming while he sucked, and before you knew it, you were cumming, hands still clutched tightly against his dick while you trembled and wailed through your orgasm. It took a moment for the aftershocks to leave you, before Shinsou relented in his talented licking and sucking. He drew back, sat up - his fully-hard dick slipped out of your hands. You hadn’t even realized you were still holding onto it.

“Felt good, yeah? What do we say when someone does something nice for us?”

Still trying to come down from cloud nine, you weren’t really listening. You came crashing back down to earth when Shinsou reached forward, grabbed your jaw again, squeezing even tighter this time.

“What do we say? Tell me.” His was growling, irritated at your lack of manners. His grip was so tight that it hurt to open your mouth to reply, hurt to whisper out a stuttered “Thank you Shinsou.”. It hurt on the inside too.

Satisfied with you answer, your brother released your face, cooing as he again shifted on the bed. He grabbed you, flipped you onto your stomach, despite the way you whispered out soft “no, no, no.”’s as he did so. You had hoped he would be done after he came on your chest, had hoped he would leave after making you reach your own orgasm.

He was kneeling behind you, grabbed one of your legs and lifted it into the air, twisting your lower body so your hips were sideways. Shinsou lined his cock up with your pussy, not even letting you breathe before he began pushing in. It didn’t hurt, but you were still sensitive from your previous orgasm. He was gentle at first, your brother fucking you with care and a gentleness that had you crying. Why was he doing this, any of it? Why couldn’t he find someone else, anyone else other than his sister?

It started hurting when his pace picked up, his hips grinding into you quickly, skin slapping together lewdly. You tried not to speak, tried not to let the gasps and moans and whimpers leave your lips. Shinsou was likewise quiet, enjoy the sounds of your lovemaking with his eyes closed. His hands were still so cold, gripping your leg and holding it in the air, the other wrapped around your hip, lifting you so his cock could hammer into you at the perfect height.

He was fucking into you so fast, you couldn’t think, could barely breathe. It was impossible to hold on to the disgust, the revulsion that crawled up your throat when you remembered who it was that was working your pussy so well. It felt good, his cock sliding through the wet of your pussy, the friction smooth and delicous and -

You whimpered as you came, hands clawing at the sheets, writhing in Shinsou’s hold. Your brother didn’t stop, although he groaned when he felt your pussy clenching down on his cock, rhythmically massaging the length. Instead, Shinsou kept his fast pace, despite how you wailed and babbled and twitched, asking him to “Stop, stop! Shinsou, stop stop I can’t!”

“Remember what I said about manners?” His was panting hard, voice low. “You don’t get anything until you say please.”

“Please! Shinsou please, please stop! Please-“

He was still jackrabbiting into you, ruthlessly pounding you into the mattress. Was he listening? You had said please.

“Shinsou! Please oh please I can’t-“ With a disgruntled huff (he was hesitant to leave your tight warmth), Shinsou pulled out, dropping his hold on your lower body. Within seconds, he had his hands around his cock, stripping it furiously over you, eyes never leaving your sweaty, heaving form.

“Say “Thank you Shinso”. Say it. Tell me how grateful you are.”

“T-thank you Shinsou.” You sniffed, trying not to sob. You knew he wanted you to say more, but that was going to have to be good enough.

The man groaned, his hips humping his cock into his hand before he squeezed his eyes shut, and he then was cumming. It shot out of his cock and onto you, over your hip and the flesh of your backside, his hips still working.

When he was finished, Shinsou collapsed onto your bed next to you, breathing hard.

“(Y/N)….” HIs voice cracked. “(Y/N).” He tried again. “You’re…. That was really good. Thank you.” He leaned towards you, placed a chaste kiss on your cheek. You shoved down the need to recoil from his touch.

You hated him.

#yandere #yandere oneshot #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere shinsou #yandere shinso hitoshi #yandere shinso x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #I spell it Shinsou #not shinso #i'm sorry #tw noncon #tw dubcon #stepbrother #stepbro #step siblings #shinsou x you #shinsou x y/n #uhh idk tags

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

The Oncoming Storm Part 26: Sick

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

You finally see where they sleep and get to take care of them a little bit. Finally. And Kung Lao is back! Yay!

A/N: I missed writing Kung Lao so much, I didn't realize how much until I was writing him again. He feeds into my sarcastic insides. My biggest suggestion for reading anything I write is to add sarcasm in your head. Lol. Hope you guys are doing well! I got home yesterday but had this chapter prepped and ready to go since I knew I'd be jetlagged today. Smooches.

Part 25 Part 27 Chapter Index

You rejoined Liu Kang who had very much still been watching you. He no longer made any attempt to hide it.

“Everything alright?” He looked weary. You couldn’t un-notice it.

“Yeah. Chen wanted to catch up, but I told her later.” Was it just you or had he gotten paler? You touched his forehead with the back of your hand, and he was radiating heat. But Liu Kang was always a little warmer than most. He pulled your hand away from his forehead and chuckled under his breath.

“I’m fine, Y/N.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before letting it go. “Careful down here, by the way. The monks can be a little…” He drifted off.

“Yeah, they’re huge drama queens and gossips. I know. You have no idea how much I know.”

“Yes.” He kept his eyes on the floor ahead of you, as if to purposely avoid eye contact with you. “They are all very nice, but they are also… as you put it… dramatic.”

“I can handle it. I think they’re kind of funny. Besides, I got used to being gossiped around as a kid.” You walked slowly with him through the halls, not exactly sure where you were headed, dragging your bag behind you. “How are you feeling?”

“What, are you worried about me?” He grinned mischievously.

“I am never going to live that down, am I?” You groaned.

“Nope. But it is very sweet that you do. I’m okay. I don’t feel like I have a fever. I’m sore and tired but it has been a wild few days, Y/N.”

“It has been.” You walked, somewhat aimlessly. “Are you going to rest?”

“Yes. Doctor’s orders.”

“How very well behaved of you.”

“My constitution is usually reliable when it comes to illness but if Kung Lao has that high a fever, then I should be careful. Usually, I’d ignore these orders for a little fever but I’m taking the effects of these artifacts very seriously. I know my limits. I don’t know theirs.”

“Is it okay if I make sure that you get back to your room to rest?”

“Oh?” He stopped walking and so you did the same. He stepped closer to you and stood over you and you straightened your posture in response. He tilted your chin up to him, pushing his boundaries with. He smirked which was the most beautiful expression you ever saw him make. “Worried?”

“Oh, god.” You made a sound of disgust. “Yes. Okay? I’m worried about you. Are you happy now?”

“Very.” Liu considered and then resumed his walk next to you. You joined him, relieved that you’d finally kept your composure in front of him. Liu Kang getting that closer to you? He knew what he was doing. You were beginning to think that they both knew exactly what they were doing and were in cahoots! They were cahooting! “I’m fine, Y/N, but yes you may accompany me.”

“I’m sorry for all of that, by the way.” You followed his lead down the hall and up a flight of stairs. “The worry thing, that is. I don’t mind that you worry about me. You were right. I got so far in my head that I was up my own ass.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. I know this has been difficult. I appreciate you taking the time to clarify things. I’m still going to tease you about it. I’m not sorry for that.” Liu led you through a door at the end of the hall. You stopped in the doorway to take in his space. His windows were covered with various draped cloths. There were scrolls hung on the walls, shelves of books, a desk, prayer beads, incense, and a prayer mat nearby. His bed was neatly made.

“It’s funny. This is exactly how I pictured your room.”

“Oh?” Liu turned to you in surprise. “You pictured it, did you?”

“I did. I pictured more books though.” You rolled your eyes at him as he teased you but couldn’t help but smile. You liked that he was teasing you a little bit. It was cute.

“I donate most of my books to the library when I’m done with them to share with everyone so that was not an incorrect assumption.” He sat on the edge of his bed and rested his elbows on his knees, hand over his left eye.

“Are you okay?” You risked being teased to worry about him again, crouching in front of him to catch his gaze.

“Headache.” He was looking gray.

“I’ll be right back.” You left his room, abandoning your little bag. You felt his eyes on you until they could no longer be. On each floor there were several rooms where waterflow had been setup in a rudimentary system that you were thankful for. You found the closest one to Liu’s room, filled a bowl with cold water, grabbed a clean cloth, and then returned to his room. You set the bowl on the little table next to his bed and then dipped the cloth in it. Then you wrung it out and gently dabbed at his forehead and held it next to his eye in hopes it would offer him some relief from the headache. He was watching you with deep admiration. It radiated from him. Sometimes Liu didn’t have to say what he was thinking because you could just tell.

“Thank you.”

“Just returning the favor.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“I know. I want to help you though.”

Liu laid back on his bed and you sat on the edge of it next to him and brushed his hair away from his face gently. You could see why he enjoyed doing that to you. “You can stay with me if you want.” You mentally revisited that morning almost immediately and decided you should clear your head instead.

“I’ll stay until I’m sure that you’re resting. If you want, I can read to you the way that you used to for me.”

“I’d like that.”

You stood and perused his books.

There were a handful set atop the bookshelf that were about Huangshan and then even more about ancient curses. You took the book about Huangshan and found where he’d marked in the middle of the book and sat next to him again. You rested the book in your lap, took the wet cloth, and rested it on his forehead, above his eye. His skin was hotter than usual. The fever had gotten worse even over the few minutes that it had taken you to get to his room.

Then you read to him, trying to be as clear and concise as he had been. It was soothing to watch him as he listened to you. He rested one hand on your lap and closed his eyes. Before you knew it, he had fallen asleep. You closed the book and marked your spot. Liu was pale and you took the cloth from his face. Hopefully, the fever didn’t last very long but it had also felt wonderful to take care of him. You knew you didn’t owe him anything, but it was nice to be able to return his kindness.

You sat with him for a few more moments then set the book on the nightstand, tucked him in, and left. Now you just had to find and check on Kung Lao. You dragged your bag behind you deciding you would blindly search the same floor. Besides, this would keep you busy and well, a 104 fever was nothing to laugh at.

You didn’t have to search for long. When you turned the corner, there was Kung Lao, walking right toward you.

“Hey you! You seen Liu?” Kung Lao was pale and had bags beneath his eyes. You could tell with one look at him that he was clammy. Even his usually rosy lips were ashen.

“Yes, but he’s asleep. Not feeling well.” You gestured behind you and then stepped closer and poked his chest. “You are as white as a sheet, Kung Lao.”

“I’m fine. Are you doing okay? I was worried after you left, and I came down with this annoying fever.”

“Unlike you, I am actually fine. Whatever this is? It hit you guys. I dodged it.”

“Because you’re already cursed, right? So, you’re used to feeling like garbage all the time?”

“Wow, that makes me feel great. Thanks, Lao. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“I need to talk to Liu first.”

“Well, Liu is sleeping. Talk to him tomorrow.”

“Fine,” he whined, pouting and batting his eyelashes. “But it’s important!”

“Is this something that I could help you with in his stead? I’m going to insist that you let him rest.”

“Well, I need to talk to Liu about something, but you can take my temperature so that I don’t have to go back to the stupid infirmary. Then you could lie to them and tell them I’m fine. Wait, scratch that, you’re a terrible liar. They’ll never believe you.”

“I don’t understand why you hate it there so much. They’re nice.” You placed the back of your hand to his forehead and pulled it back in alarm. “Yeah, wow, you are on fire. Please got to bed. I can’t force you, but I can annoy you until you do.”

“Dammit. Stupid bell,” he grumbled.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to go get some medicine to help with it or something?”

“No. I won’t. You took my temperature. That counts as checking in.” Kung Lao snapped and you cocked an eyebrow in surprise. “Fine. Okay. Yeah. You know what? Fine.” He sighed and pulled off his hat long enough just to push his sweaty hair back. “They’re very nice. You’re right. I know that but I don’t like being confined there or poked at or told what to do. And I don’t care for doctors in general.”

“Why? They’re just trying to help.”

He avoided your eyes and looked at his feet with a pout. “Bad memories.”

“Childhood trauma? Lao…”

“Memories of someone who had a rough time with doctors.”

“What? Me? I’m the cause of all this?”

“Of course, you. You used to come back from those stupid doctors crying or feeling worse off from a treatment for something that wasn’t treatable with medicine.” He looked very much like a defiant child in that moment.

“They were trying to help me, Kung Lao. They had never meant to hurt me.”

“Yeah, well I hated watching you suffer. So there.”

“Wow,” you laughed beneath your breath. Honestly, you were a little touched. You’d had no idea that the short time you’d spent together as kids had such a profound impact upon him. It had on you too, you supposed. No man had ever stood up to Kung Lao. At least not before Liu Kang. “It’s kind of sweet.”

“No, it’s very not sweet.”

“It’s a lot sweet, actually.”

“Please stop.”

“Come on, Kung Lao. You need rest.” You decided not to tease him in his moment of weakness. You would hold onto that information for later though. When he was feeling better, all bets were off. You grabbed his arm and began to guide him in the direction that he’d been coming from.

“Where are you taking me? To your room? To force me to rest?” He grinned.

“No, I’m expecting you to guide me back to your room so that I can force you to rest.”

“Oh, that is closer I guess.” He gestured behind him and turned you around and then stopped to sway and regain his balance. He really was sick. You needed to get him to bed. “This way. Though, I don’t need to go to bed. I’m fine.” Despite his objections he led you down the hallway and presumably toward his room.

“Says the man who almost fell over just turning around. Do you want to end up back in the infirmary?”

“No,” he snapped again.

“Then you need to rest, Lao.”

“Yes, mom.” He rolled his eyes but then turned a corner and led you into the room just on the other side of it. You were surprised when he opened the door. It was tidy. And organized. He had a collection of weapons on one wall, a prayer mat that looked like it had never been used, and a series of ropes tied from wall to wall on one side of the room that you guessed were for movement practice. His bed was unmade but everything else was put away.

“I did not expect this.”

“What?”

“I expected chaos.”

“I have been trained my whole life to be disciplined, Y/N. To have control and respect.”

“Not in my experience with you.”

He laughed and then held his sore side and coughed with a whine. You heaved a sigh and he slowly turned his gaze and whined. “Okay, so maybe I need rest.”

“Uh, yeah.” You nudged his shoulder carefully. “You went through so many doors the other day and now… this fever. Rest will help.”

“Fine.” He kicked off his shoes and then crawled into bed. It was clear to you that he was trying to save face by not whining or wincing as he laid back. It was cute. You tucked him in, and he shivered. You sat next to him. He admired you and then nodded toward his side.

“You still confused?”

You turned your gaze and stiffened up. “We don’t need to talk about that right now. You need rest.”

“That’s a big ol’ yes.”

You couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m cold. Thought maybe you could keep me warm.” He batted his eyelashes at you again. “Kiss me and make me feel better?” He couldn’t keep a straight face while he said it.

“I’m leaving now, Lao.” You stood and he reached for your hand to stop you. It was wrapped in gauze.

“Y/N?” His playful tone had faded.

“What?”

“Stay until I’m asleep? No funny business, I promise.”

How could you say no to that? You’d melted. “Yeah, I can do that.” You sat on the floor next to his bed, resting your back against it. You sat quietly and he tucked his arm back beneath the blankets.

“…did you kiss Liu again?”

“You’re making it really hard for me to stay, Lao.”

He laughed. “So defensive. Okay.” He tilted his head toward you so you turned and leaned with your arms resting against his mattress. He’d done the same for you on more than one occasion. Your grandma wouldn’t let him in on days where you’d been particularly ill or had a bad visit to the doctor. So, he had instead climbed in through your bedroom window and sat next to your bed, arms folded just like yours were now. He’d made you laugh. Stayed with you while you’d slept. You’d forgotten about those tender moments. In your grief, you had forgotten many things about him. “Thanks for not bailing on me when I’m frustrating.”

“You should be grateful.” You teased but in truth you had no real desire to leave until after you were certain he was resting. It didn’t take long. Only moments after he’d allowed his body to rest, he’d fallen asleep. He had needed it. You waited some time afterward to make certain he was really sleeping and not just faking it. He couldn’t be trusted.

He was sweet when he slept.

You had to make your choice. There was no more putting it off.

You’d mull over it the remainder of the day while they rested and then you would decide. You weren’t sure how you were going to make that decision or how you would tell them about it but you would figure it out. You weren’t scared of it anymore.

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haikyuu-appreciation-club · 4 years

Note

(TW Abuse, TW Family problems, TW Mental abuse, TW Emotional abuse, TW physical abuse)

Could you do headcanons for Bokuto where he finds out his s/o was emotionally, mentally, and sometimes physically abused by her family in the past?❤ I was thinking they're aged up because for this request the reader isn't living with her family anymore and Bokuto didn't know the reader back then so that's why I said he finds out. I hope I explained that well😂

ty for the request love, i hope i did it justice <3 (it’s kinda long lol)

sorry it took me a bit to get to, i haven’t been in the best headspace lately and lost a little motivation to write but i’m getting back on it

alsooo I hope you don’t mind but I added Kuroo as well

TW (trigger warning)

•How Bokuto + Kuroo Would React to Past Abuse•

warnings: mentions of abuse (physical, mental, + emotional), mentions of family issues, mentions of argument, a few curse words

genre: comfort + a little angst

characters: Bokuto + Kuroo

•Bokuto•

you and bokuto had been dating for quite a while now

you got together your third year of highschool and were currently in your second year of college

you were over the moon when bokuto offered to get a shared apartment near the campus you two would be attending

not only would this be an opportunity to take a new step with your boyfriend but you would also finally be able to leave the abusive household you had been tethered to your whole life

you had never really opened up to bokuto about your home life or the situation you were in with your family before you moved in with him

he was busy with volleyball and school and you didn’t want to overwhelm him with your issues

honestly the main thing was you didn’t know how he would react and that scared you the most

bokuto didn’t really think anything serious was going on with you until you two had moved in with one another

during your high school days, you and bokuto didn’t spend as much time together as you do now and his brain was too fast pace to even take a second to really acknowledge your responses or expressions certain days

he wasn’t completely clueless back then though, he noticed certain things but you always seemed to have an excuse for them

he didn’t miss the way you constantly apologized or seemed to accept fault for situation after situation even if it wasn’t your doing you had told him it was something you had done out of politeness since you were younger

he had noticed some slight bruising or cuts from time to time you usually told him you fell down or bumped into a desk the day before

he definitely didn’t miss how you would occasionally flinch at his touch or if he raised his voice at you you told him he just startled you is all

you were able to worm your way out of opening up to him every time up until now that is

sitting on the couch in your shared apartment, you had gotten a text message about a last minute family reunion that weekend

this took you by surprise, honestly you never thought you’d get invited to another family event

you were quick to start typing a reply to let everyone know that you wouldn’t be coming

bokuto noticed your short deny to their offer and gently grabbed both or your wrists which stopped you before you hit send

“hey hey hey baby, why aren’t you going? we don’t have any plans this weekend and it would be a good opportunity for me to finally meet the rest of your family and get to know your parents better!”

bokuto was always so cheerful and optimistic well outside of his emo mode you didn’t know how to say no to that

but you had to say no, you were finally free of them and you couldn’t give them any opportunity to shove you back into your old headspace you tried so hard to crawl out of

“ko, we can’t go.”

bokuto was definitely confused by your response, I mean there wasn’t anything keeping you two from going

wait, did you not want your family to meet him or something?

his hair fell a bit as sadness clouded his heart

you already knew what he was thinking

“oh no ko, it’s nothing to do with you. I promise.”

his hair lifted slightly with those words

but if it wasn’t him then what was it?

“Is there something wrong Y/N?”

he seated himself down next to you

you sighed, realizing it was finally time to come clean

you explained your whole situation and what you had to go through to bokuto, staring at the floor the entire time

his heart had broke into a million pieces

how could anyone ever dream of doing something like this to someone like you

he couldn’t believe that his s/o had been this hurt

even more, he couldn’t believe he accepted those stupid excuses and left you to hurt on your own

immidiently you were engulfed in a warm hug

bokuto could not stop whispering loving words into your neck

he needed you to know how much he loved you, how he would never in a million years hurt you like you’d been hurt in the past

you were his everything, his world

and he would love you and protect you with everything he had

•Kuroo•

you and kuroo had started dating in college

you had been assigned to share a dorm room with him on campus and after getting to know each other, you both had ended up falling for one another.

now, after graduating, you two had gotten an apartment together and were leading happy lives for the most part

you had never mentioned anything about your past to kuroo

school and work had kept him stressed throughout the entirety of your relationship and you didn't feel like adding something else to the pile

besides, that was all in the past

you had met him after you had moved out and you no longer had to deal with your parent’s constant abuse

it seemed pointless to you to bring up something that had already occurred

however, you knew you couldn't avoid the subject forever

what you didn’t know was that you would have to spit it out so soon

you and kuroo had gotten into an argument

you and him bickered from time to time as all couples do but this time it was more intense then usual

he had wanted to meet your parents for quite a while now but every time he brought it up you would either come up with an excuse or completely shut him down

“I just don’t see what's the fucking problem, I'm starting to thing you’re ashamed of our relationship or something. Is this your way of telling me you're done or something?”

“No Tetsuro, that’s not it at all. You don’t understand.”

“Then please Y/N, help me understand because I really don’t get it.”

“It’s not you, it’s them. The last thing I want to do is see them again. Please Tetsuro, I need you to understand that. I’m so tired of fighting right now.”

kuroo froze

you were on the brink of tears when that last sentence left your mouth.

he wrapped you in a tight hug

“I’m sorry baby, I should have took the time to listen instead of automatically hopping on your ass. Can we sit down and talk about this?”

Agreeing, your took a seat on the bed with him and begun to explain your past situation and your reasoning

kuroo felt a mixture of guilt, anger, and sadness bubble up in him

how could he be so selfish and blind

even though he didn't know you when this was a frequent issue, you had given many signs that you had been through something traumatic

he never brought it up because he didn’t want to push you, thinking you would let him know when you were ready

but he now realized he could have saved you from carrying this burden on your own much sooner

hearing what you had been put through and how it affected you crushed him

you meant the world to him and to find out you had been treated in such an awful way hurt him more then anything had before

he apologized to you for his behavior and let you know that you never had to do anything that made you uncomfortable for his sake

he held you in his arms once more and mumbled words of comfort into your ears

he was your new home and he would make sure you were loved each and every day

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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leiasfanaccount648 · 4 years

Text

I’m So Sorry

Keigo Takami [Hawks] x Fem!Reader

Request from Anon: Hello i am new to your account, and i think it's great. Im a hawks simp so you might get more requests of him if thats okay lol. Uhm can my first request be a hawks x fem reader angst, if you write that and uh can it be an imagine where he gets mad at her and ends up hurting her, angst with happy ending? .i hope that is okay but its up to u. Thank youuu!!

A/N: Thank you again so much for your request! I hope you don’t mind, but I did change this up a little bit. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings/Contains: Angst, this takes place during/after the last two episodes of season 4 so slight manga spoilers? (I haven’t read much so this is mostly just hypothetical speculation from what I have read), cursing, argument, reader being shoved by Keigo.

Word Count: 2031

He knew it was risky, but then again, what else was he supposed to do? He had no other option. He had to be careful on how he went about this, as anyone could be watching or listening. Hell, for all he knew someone already knew of what he was planning to do or already done and was waiting for the perfect moment to chance to blackmail him.

However, he couldn’t think of that right now. He had to focus on what his plans were. If one thing went wrong or was out of place, it could sabotage everything.

“Keigo?”

The winged man flinched slightly as he heard his name being called out so suddenly. He had been so lost in thought that he had stopped eating the dinner that his girlfriend prepared for him. Keigo looked up at her, blinking to get rid of any possible look he had in his eyes that could worry her.

“Hm? What is it, baby?”

“Are you okay? You kinda spaced out there.”

(Y/N) let out a chuckle, finding it a little funny how her boyfriend would sometimes focus on the smallest things. She didn’t find it out of the ordinary, but she did find it odd that something other than herself managed to tear Keigo away from the precious chicken parmesan you made him. As he replied to her, part of her began to take notice how out of place he seemed to be every now and then over the last few weeks; this was just the first time she had taken the time to ask him about it.

“Oh,” Keigo laughed along with her, nodding his head. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just thinking about work is all.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” (Y/N) took a bite from the food on her plate, her tone being very easy going as it was obvious to her boyfriend that he didn’t have to tell her, but she was still there to listen if he needed her. At the same time, she wanted to know in case something was seriously wrong. He was a pro hero after all, and that job comes with many risks.

“No, it’s alright. A certain case has just been in my mind after hearing about it today.” Keigo took a bite of the chicken, humming in satisfaction at the taste. He swore he would never get tired of his girlfriend’s cooking. “Dinner’s great, by the way. Thank you for making it.” He smiled, knowing that he changed the subject smoothly enough to make both of them move on from the previous topic.

(Y/N) proceeded to thank him, going on to say that she had to run to the store at the last minute to get an ingredient that they didn’t have in the kitchen. Of course, Keigo’s thoughts remained elsewhere while his eyes were trained on the one he loved.

The next morning, Keigo had gotten up a little bit earlier than usual before leaving for work. Granted, he did have to make a stop first before the hero rankings happened later that day.

Keigo had arrived at the warehouse first, looking around the building to make sure no one could possibly see him before walking inside.

“About time you got here.”

Keigo had barely taken 3 steps inside before he heard the voice. Even if he had expected it, he still pulled out one of his longest and sharpest feathers and pointed it in the direction he heard it in. He kept the hard glare on his face as he stared at the man. “You should be more careful about keeping yourself out of sight, Dabi.”

The man chuckled, obviously sarcastic as he shrugged his shoulders while his hands rested in his pockets. “Please, if anyone else stumbled across this place I would have taken care of them without you even knowing.” He smirked slightly, almost making Keigo question whether or not Dabi really had done that before he arrived.

Either way, he rolled his eyes and lowered the feather in his hand. They had work to do soon that could not be treated nicely. “Let’s just finalize the details and get this over and done with, shall we?”

~ ~ ~

Keigo smiled to himself, proud of the fact that he managed to bring Endeavor to his hometown of Fukuoka just like he planned. Now, all that was left to do was seal the deal and wait for everything to go down the next day, or so he had thought.

He and Endeavor were eating lunch to discuss all that was going on when it happened, and part of Keigo was annoyed at himself for thinking that it would happen this way. Nevertheless, he and Endeavor fought the Nomu that Dabi and himself had planned for in hopes that everything would turn out like the plan originally intended to go.

It was a hard fight, one that even he didn’t expect to go the way it did. Of course, he couldn’t focus on that factor for long, as he still had a job to do. Sadly, it fell short as Endeavor had won the battle against the Nomu. Even though he was hoping for the end of Endeavor like Dabi was, he couldn’t help but admire the pro for always trying to get to the number one spot.

Endeavor always kept trying to get there unlike others who simply stood by thinking it was impossible. Keigo strived to be like that too, even if he claimed to want a lower hero ranking. He wanted to be able to create a laidback world so that heroes didn’t have to work so hard all the time, and he would do anything in order to do so. Including killing the man who had inspired him.

While he was upset about the plan not going the way he had hoped, and the fact that Dabi had acted without telling him, Keigo couldn’t help but feel stressed due to the fact that everything he had done in order to pull this off was now a waste. And he had no idea when he would be able to get another chance like this again.

He managed to reason with Dabi so that they could come up with another plan to end the current number one hero later in time, but for now, all he wanted to do was go home and relax in attempt to get rid of the pounding in his head and aches in his body from the fight he had.

The moment Keigo stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him, (Y/N) made her way to the door to greet him, walking faster than usual. She knew that he was okay, as he had called her shortly before meeting with Dabi to let her know, but worry was still written all over her face.

“Keigo,” (Y/N)’s hands raised to her mouth as she noticed that most of his wings were gone after the fight. Even if they would grow back over the course of a couple days, it was still an unusual sight to see from her boyfriend. “Your wings.” She stepped towards him again, reaching out to hold his cheek so he’d look her in the eye.

Instead, Keigo moved her hand away before she could touch him and took off his coat followed by his shoes. “I’m fine, (Y/N).”

The tone in his voice was one (Y/N) knew all too well: stress. “You’re not, and we both know it.”

Keigo didn’t say a word and simply walked past her to the kitchen. He reached into one cabinet and grabbed a glass, then into another to grab a bottle of gin and seltzer water. (Y/N) followed him, choosing her words carefully. “You don’t have to tell me what’s on your mind, whether you do or not. But please tell me how I can help you.”

“You can be quiet, that’s how you can help.”

(Y/N) eyed him, part of her hurt from his words and part of her annoyed. “Excuse me?” “You may say that you can help, but right now, all I need from you is silence and to leave me alone.” Kiego’s back faced her while he spoke, making the cocktail that he decided on. He turned around and took a big sip; he took in the expression she now wore herself.

“What on earth happened to make you start acting like this?” (Y/N) took a step forward, still hoping that she could figure out what was actually going on. There was definitely a reason as to why he acted so different compared to the way he did after a hard day at work, so what caused it?

“What do you want me to say when I come home from work, (Y/N)? That everything was all fine and dandy? No crime happened throughout the city? The district? The country?” He let out a short yet sarcastic laugh. “Well guess what sweetheart? That just isn’t the case, is it?” He took another swig of his drink before setting it down on the counter.

(Y/N) held back from sounding so harsh, becoming more and more ticked off as her boyfriend dodged question after question thrown at him. “Keigo, please,” she stepped forward, reaching out to him again. “Just answer my question so I can help you.”

Keigo eyed her as she got close, her words starting to get to him. He was a hero, so he should be helping other people, not the other way around. But, with his plans in flames from Dabi, the world he was hoping for was now even further out of his reach.

He stepped away to walk out of the kitchen, mumbling under his breath. “I’m going to get a shower.”

(Y/N) trailed after him, putting a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to stop him as Keigo began to step into the hallway. “No, you’re not.” It was then that Keigo would turn to regret everything.

“I told you to leave me alone!”

In less than a second, Keigo turned around to move (Y/N)’s hand off of him, but in the process of doing so, he accidentally put too much strength into his movements and slammed (Y/N) into the cabinets next to her with just his arm.

(Y/N) lost her breath as well as her footing from hitting the wood so hard and fell to the floor. She hesitantly looked up at her boyfriend, seeing as he was now glaring harsher at her with his teeth slightly bared. She could almost feel the anger now radiating off of him, and she was terrified.

The realization of what Keigo had just done sunk in mere seconds after it happened. He felt his heart drop at the sight of the one he loved on the ground from his actions, now scared of him and what he would possibly do to her next. “(Y/N),” was all he could get out.

“No, don’t.” (Y/N) moved back on the floor as best as she could in her scared state. She eventually stood up, backing up away from him while her arms wrapped around herself. “If you’re going to act like this, then I’m going to leave before you do anything worse.”

Keigo couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes, instead staring at the floor. He didn’t even move when (Y/N) walked past him with tears in her eyes. He could hear her grab her keys and put on her shoes before leaving, slamming the door for good measure.

Keigo didn’t try running after her, instead raising a hand to grip his hair tightly and leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. “Fuck.” This all happened because of him and his selfish actions, and there was no other way to look at the situation. “I’m sorry.”

He knew that one simple apology wasn’t going to solve anything, but then again he didn’t know what he could do to turn this around. He grit his teeth and his other hand hit the wall beside him. “I’m so sorry.”

#hawks x reader #hawks fanfiction #hawks imagine #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami fanfiction #keigo takami imagine #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #mha imagines #My writing #my work #my post

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love-fireflysong · 3 years

Text

Oh my god, I'm so sorry that this one took so long holy shit. I have no excuses, other than the fact that I'm a terrible person who can't be trusted with deadlines it seems. But it is done! Yay! So, as successfully chosen by Miss '@clumsybookworm18' Mel, here's my entry for hurt/comfort (finally). This is actually the beginning part of a sole survivor chris/ash au I've been imagining for over a year now, and will very likely be the only part of that au I will ever share. That au is for me. And me alone, sorry lol.

Can't Undo the Scars can be read over on AO3 of course (and I would recommend it if only for the snazzy looking texting lol) but it is also under the link as usual.

Can't Undo the Scars

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 9749 Rating: Teen (mentions of past trauma, unhealthy coping mechanisms, separation anxiety, nightmares that involve death) Author's Notes: Will I ever be happy with this fic? No but I'm as content with what I got as I ever will be. What Chris and Ash are doing to try and get back to 'normal' is so stupidly not healthy for either of them, but they are young kids that just want to try and move on with their lives. So be nice to them (and me obviously lol).

"I think we should take a break."

Sitting across from Ashley at the table in the quiet cafe where they had gotten coffee together, Chris fumbled with the sugar cube he had grabbed. It bounced off the small table and tumbled to the floor, not that he was paying any attention to it anymore. Not when it felt like all his blood had frozen in his veins. Still, hoping and praying that he was misunderstanding what Ashley was trying to get at, he let out a forced little laugh. "...like a KitKat? Oh man, when was the last time I had one of those? Must have been ages ago, you're totally right we should go and grab a bar or two after this. A little snack and treat we both totally deserve and I'll break us off a piece of that—"

Chris let everything else he was about to say trail off when Ashley pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and shook her head fiercely as she refused to look at him. The loose sleeves of the sweater she was wearing were pulled far down enough that only the tips of her fingers were poking out, and those tightened around the mug of coffee she was holding onto. "No, I-I mean, I think we need to take a break from each other. At least for a little bit."

Forget his blood freezing, Chris felt everything around him freeze. His breath froze in his lungs, his heart froze in his chest, and time seemed to freeze around him. "Ash, are-are you," Chris swallowed roughly as he tried to keep himself together, "are you breaking up with me?"

Immediately Ashley's eyes snapped up to meet his, and they were wide with the same fear that Chris was pretty sure had replaced all the blood in his body. "No! No, that's-that's not what I'm doing! That's not what I want at all!" Her hands left the mug she had been gripping on the table and reached out to take Chris's, but hesitated and pulled back at the last second. "Why? Do you want to...?"

Chris closed the distance between their hands and grabbed hers in his, but was careful not to touch her wrists. He was more relieved than he had imagined it was possible to feel (and he had felt some pretty intense feelings of relief in the last half a year) when she responded by immediately turning her hands over so she could curl her fingers into his. "I don't! I can't think of a single thing in the world I want to do less than that."

The jerky nod that Ashley gave in agreement should have left him feeling better, but it didn't. "Good. So we're not br— not gonna do that then."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Glad we're in agreement. But then, what did you mean by that, Ash? That we should..." Chris couldn't even bring himself to say the words, instead letting them die in his throat when Ashley slowly withdrew her hands from his and placed them back around her quickly cooling mug.

"It's just, this isn't healthy Chris. This can't be healthy for either of us."

"Healthy? What isn't healthy? This much coffee? The amount of sugar I put in my cup every morning? Is the amount of sugar I use turning you off Ash? Cause I don't think I can fix that sorry."

She didn't smile at that, not even a hint. No faint tugging at the corners of her mouth, no sigh of exasperation, nothing. And it was then that he knew that whatever this was all about, she was as serious as he'd ever seen her, and that terrified him.

"This, Chris. None of this. The fact that neither of us can sleep alone. That I'm terrified that the moment you leave my sight I'll never see you again. I hate that it feels like neither of us can go out in public unless we're both there."

"Oh. That. Yeah, I-I can see how that might be a problem. But Ash, it wasn't—it's not as if it's our fault. We're just trying to heal, I mean that's what all the doctors keep telling us at least. And if this is what it takes, then what's so wrong about that?"

Ashley looked up at him again, and while he wasn't shocked at the dark circles around her eyes (they were identical to the ones around his after all), the tears that had started to build up in the corners of them had him reaching over the table so he could take her face into his hands. Her hands cover his a second later, but not pull them away like he feared, instead she curls her fingers into the palms of his hands so she can hold him there. The two of them lean over the table to meet in the middle, likely looking like a romantic embrace shared by lovers in the corner to anyone looking on, but this is anything but. "But it's been months Chris," she starts and he wipes away the first tear that threatens to fall before it ever gets the chance to, "since, since..."

Since Blackwood, he finishes for her in his head, it's been months since Blackwood and it still feels like we're no better than when we first came down. And it has been, Blackwood had been nearly six months ago now and the two of them still jumped and grabbed for each other at what seemed like every little thing. A loud bang, even from something as small and normal as a car backfiring down the street, always sent Chris back into that room in the basement, watching as Mike aimed that gun at Emily. The sound of a glass cup shattering as it hit the floor would have Ashley locking up in fear, her grip on Chris's hand tightening to a point far beyond pain.

That first week of July had been terrible for them both. The smart thing to do would have been to get as far out of town as possible, but that would have left them basically stranded in the wilderness; surrounded by trees on all sides as they jumped at every little sound and animal call, wondering if it was yet another one of those creatures from the mountain trying to finish them off. Instead they had elected to stay home, cowering together in Chris's basement as the fireworks going off with loud pops and bangs from nearly every house in the area had managed to cut through their earplugs and send them both into a tailspin. Remembering every bullet that Chris had shot into the Wendigo that had chased him from the shed, none doing any damage at all except to push it back further and further from him. Remembering the sound as the lodge exploded into a ball of fire, leaving them to sit cold and alone in the snow as their ears continued to ring and ring. The coolness of the basement had done little against the summer heat either, reminding them too much of the heat from the burning lodge that had threatened to cook them both from the inside out.

July had almost been worse than February, and nothing would ever top those two days in February.

He's not worried about the scene the two of them are making in the cafe though. The table they had chosen—had been using since they discovered this beautifully quiet and peaceful cafe back when they had both finally worked up the nerve to leave their houses back in May—was in a secluded corner with no windows. It was a defensible position (or at least as defensible as a table in a public cafe could be) and as long as they stayed quiet then no one would pay any attention to them. Not when the other patrons were too busy chatting with their friends or typing away on a computer. And the employees? They had more to worry about then two nerdy regulars who for all appearances looked like they were having a romantic and private conversation.

"Can you at least just tell me why?" Chris whispers, his words choked as he continues to wipe away her tears. "Why now? What happened to make you think that we need a—" his m0uth moves but nothing comes out until he finally manages to force the word past the blockade in his throat "—a break."

Ashley leans into one of his palms and smiles at him sadly. "I know we both decided that we were gonna try and start school again in the winter semester, and that our admissions had already been accepted, so I was looking at dorm availabilities when you had fallen asleep last week. They only have a few single dorms and those are available only for married students. Which is fine, it's way too small to room two people at once for durations longer than a weekend. But it also turns out that there is no option for co-ed dorms, the school doesn't allow them. No exceptions."

"What? But, surely they must—"

She shakes her head. "No exceptions, they were very clear on that. I don't know how many times me or my mom or any of the doctors emailed them to try and explain the circumstances, but the response back was always the same. They 'feel sorry and understand how difficult this must be for us' but no exceptions means no exceptions. We either agree to separate dorms with roommates of the same gender or we have to find another set of lodgings."

"But that's...that's bullshit! So the thought of a boy and girl sharing a room apparently goes so far against their-their—what, good Christian values?—that giving our poor roommates nightmares while we scream ourselves to sleep is an acceptable alternative?!"

Ashley turns her head so she can leave a chaste kiss in the center of Chris's palm in an effort to calm him down, and decides to just stay and murmur her next words there. "I hate it too, but what other alternative is there? You know we can't get a place together, there's no possible way we could afford the rent for one."

"We can...we can..." Chris tries to find something, anything, he can say to make this not happen. "I can find a job, work and go to school or—"

"And we arrive back to the same problem, Chris. If we can't survive a separation at school, how are we supposed to do it when we're both out working as well, just so we can stay together. I don't want to do this anymore then you do Chris; I really really don't. You have no idea how much I don't want to do this, but we have to get used to not being able to see each other all the time. And I would rather do it on our terms then because the school or our roommates decided we can't."

Ashley's right, of course Ashley's right. It's Ashley Brown after all, she's always right, but he doesn't want her to be. Not about this. "Okay," he agrees instead, even as it feels like saying the word is stealing something away that he can't quite name. He hides this by lowering her head so he can place his lips on her forehead and say the words there instead. "Okay. Just-just tell me how long."

"A week." Chris feels something in his stomach turn into stone and sink to the bottom of his gut. He had been hoping for something like a day or two, not a full week. He isn't sure he can survive seven days without seeing her. "I-I thought long and hard about it, but a week. We're gonna have periods anyways where we won't be able to see each other because of exams or projects, so if we can manage a whole week then we can do those no problem."

"Are you sure that maybe we shouldn't, I don’t know, just build up to that? A day here, two days there, just so we can get used to it?"

Ashley shakes her head firmly enough that it jostles Chris's hands right off of her face, but keeps her hands in his anyways. "No. I want to get this over with. Prove to everyone, to ourselves, that we can do something as simple as this. I mean, we used to go periods all the time when we didn't see each other for ages, so what's so different about this?"

"Everything", Chris wants to say, "Everything's different now. It changed the moment we left that mountain behind." But he doesn't. He doesn't because he wants her to be right, that this is just a minor hiccup and if they can overcome this, then they can overcome anything. So with one last squeeze of her hands and a pained smile, he lets go and takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces at the taste. It's cold now, had probably gone cold a long time ago and he can tell from the shared frown on Ashley's face that hers has gone cold too.

With no reason for either of them to stay here now, they had only brought enough money for a single coffee each, it's pretty clear that their little coffee date is over. Neither of them say a word as they clean up their table and leave the cafe, their fingers intertwined as they usually are nowadays, but holding on tighter than usual. They separate only so they can get into Chris's truck, but the moment they settle into their seats, their hands find each other once again. And that's how Chris drives Ashley back to her mother's, hands gripping so tightly that they're fingers have turned white and not saying a single word the entire drive back. They never mentioned it, but neither of them have to. The moment they arrive at her place, then this is it. This will be the last time they're gonna see each other for an entire week, and the moment one of them speaks then any and all willpower they have to pull this off is going to be gone and they'll be back at where they started. They need to do this, even if neither of them want to.

It isn't until Chris pulls up in front and watches her let go of his hand to take off her seatbelt that it actually hits him. For the first time in six months, he's not going to be following her in. That he's going to continue the drive back to his own house alone. The realization shudders through him and he quickly finds himself fumbling at his own seatbelt clasp, and the moment he's free he's surging across the divide between them and taking Ashley's face in his hands as he kisses her like he's never going to be able to again. She doesn't hesitate to return the embrace either, throwing her arms around him and gripping onto him as though she never wants to let him go.

They spend what is probably far too long delaying the separation, but inevitably they do separate. And when they look at each other it's with tears in their eyes and their foreheads pressed so firmly together it's almost like they're trying to become one person.

"Just seven days, right? And that's it, we'll never have to do this again? You promise?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, she just nods and leans in for one last kiss, as though trying to memorize it and him for the coming week. And when she does pull away to leave, it's with her arms slowly untwining themselves from around Chris's neck, and then letting her fingers trail lightly over his shoulders, down his arms, and past his hands. Though she is stopped when Chris curls his fingers so that they catch on his, and doesn’t fight it as she watches wordlessly as he lifts them in front of his face and carefully lets the loose sleeves of her sweater drop so he can see the faint scars on her wrist that were left when the rope burns had healed. And as always, he makes no comment as softly places a kiss into the center of each wrist, followed by the palm, and then the tip of each finger, finally closing his eyes as he presses the back of her knuckles to his lips and holding her hands there. Just to remind himself that she was still here, that she hadn't died on Blackwood Mountain with all the rest.

He drops her hands when she pulls them back, but doesn't open his eyes when he feels her shaky fingers carefully remove his glasses and place them on the dashboard before returning her hands to his face in order to complete their little ritual. Gently, she traces the contours of his face with the pads of her thumbs, brushing them over his eyes, his nose, his lips, and following each with a soft kiss to the body part in question. Finishing as she always does by placing her lips in a closed mouth kiss to the area where his jaw and neck meet, and lingering just long enough so she can feel his pulse thrum beneath his skin. The minor burn from where he had once held the gun to his jaw had faded a long time ago, but he doesn't think that either will ever forget exactly where it used to be. And when she leans back, the usual expressions of relief and awe are hidden so far underneath the absolute heartbreak that they may as well not even exist. "I—" he starts, but stops just as quickly. It's far too overdue, but the timing isn't right. "I guess I'll see you next week then."

Ashley looks like she has something she wants to say, but instead reaches out to put Chris's glasses back on his face with shaking hands and as she opens the passenger door and gets out of the vehicle, she gives a weak smile. "Yeah, I...I'll see you then."

Chris just watches as she walks up to the building, gripping onto the steering wheel as hard as possible in an effort to hold himself back from trying to follow her into the building like every fibre of his being is screaming at him to do. And after sharing one last shaky and teary eyed smile from the top of the steps, Ashley unlocks the door and enters, leaving his sight for what feels like both the first time in forever, and the final time he'll ever get to see her.

He rushes the rest of the way home, and the moment he gets back he just about runs to his bedroom and hides under the covers of his bed, ignoring both the surprised greeting his mother sends his way and the inquiry about where Ashley is. He just wants to sleep.

The week will be over quicker that way.

***

By the end of the first day Ashley is ready to scream. Not because she misses Chris horribly (she does), or because waking up without Chris at her side had sent her into near hysterics (it did). She had expected these things after all, they were all things that she had to get used to again, he wasn't always going to be there with her after all. It still hurt—good god did it hurt—but all in all, it wasn't going terribly for the first day. She'd had no nightmares thankfully, and had spent most of the day reading, with some minor tidying up in her room and helping her mother around the house.

Oh no, the reason she was about to scream was her mother in question. Who after finding out why exactly Chris hadn't come home with her yesterday, and never made an appearance later on in the evening just before bed, had been frantic. Saundra wasn't angry, she didn't scream or yell or try to do anything that might set her daughter off, but she was being horribly insistent that maybe Ashely and Chris should have thought this through more. Asking why Ashley had never brought this up to her, and if she even mentioned that they were doing this to their doctors. She hadn't of course, because Ashley was fully aware that they would have done almost everything in their power to try and talk them out of it, telling them that the two of them weren't ready for separation of his magnitude yet. And of course neither of them were ready for this—they likely never would be—but it needed to be done if her and Chris had any hope of even trying to return to a normal lifestyle in time for them to return to college in January.

And, well, she was terrified about what would happen to them if they didn't. Sure it was deemed 'healthy' for now, as they tried and struggled to recover from what everyone around them said was a horribly traumatic series of events. But what about when it wasn't simply seen as healthy and therapeutic, but harmful and co-dependant? Ashley loved Chris, even if neither of them had said the words yet she felt it in her entire being everytime she looked at him, and the idea that one day they might grow to hate or resent each other for being unable to let go was too much. And so the completely necessary trial separation came into being. If they could prove that they could successfully be apart for something as short as a week, then this wasn't codependency in the making, it was healing pure and simple.

Now she just had to convince herself of that.

***

By early morning of the second day, Chris had finally admitted to himself what he had figured out a few short hours into his self-exiled bedrest: sleeping the week away when he had been finding it hard to sleep in general for months now was quite frankly going to be impossible. And so he had with great reluctance rolled himself out of his far too empty bed and into the shower, passing his own mother talking in hushed voices on the phone. Voices that quickly stopped the moment Lilith realized that her son was finally up and moving again, and then immediately confronting him afterwards and pleading that he tell her that nothing bad had happened between him and Ash. He weakly assures that everything's fine between them (it's not, everything is not fine, it won't be fine until she's by his side again), and that he'll talk to her after. The only thing he wants right now is a hot shower. Lilith lets him go reluctantly, but Chris is also very aware that the moment he steps foot into the bathroom, that she's going to be back on the phone with Saundra speaking in hushed and worried whispers.

The rest of the morning passes by in a haze of motherly questions—mixed with the occasional fatherly one every now and again just for spice—and a large breakfast that tastes and feels like ash in his mouth, and it bleeds into the afternoon, and then into the evening. Which finds Chris both bored out of his mind and desperate for a distraction as he digs through a pile of video games to try and find something to play. But everything he finds was either given to him by Ash, or ones the two of them had played together (if not both), so he abandons his search and instead finds himself out in the garage digging through dusty and broken down boxes until he finds the old playstation and games that his parents had gotten for him before he had ever met Ashley or...or...

Well, the point was he had a game now that carried no memories of anyone or anything except being six and terrible at video games. It does nothing to wipe away the loneliness and despair that covers him like a heavy blanket, but it's a start. An extremely stalled start to a race he wants nothing to do with, but a start nonetheless.

***

On day three, Ashley is starting to think that maybe her mom had been right and that this was such a stupid idea. Last night was especially bad. No matter how many blankets she had piled on her bed, no matter how many childhood stuffed animals she had shoved back on to fill up the empty space, none of it had helped. She had never felt so cold in her life and all the open space on the bed had made her feel like she was going to be swallowed up into the emptiness. In desperation she had started ripping the drawers from her dresser and throwing clothes from her closet, frantically holding back burning tears of frustration and the scream building up in her throat.

And then she found it. One of Chris's sweaters shoved half-hazardly away into a dark corner of her room under the bed, and had been forgotten about by the both of them until now. The immediacy with which she had fumbled to grab the thing and throw it on probably would have frightened her any other day, but with the tears finally flowing hot and heavy down her cheeks as she buried her face into the dark fibres, all she could feel was bone-crushing relief settling over her. Her room a mess she could deal with in the morning, Ashley had crawled into bed hugging herself and the sweater as close as she physically was able. She wasn't cold anymore, and the bed felt less empty too.

As long as she had a reminder that Chris was still alive, that she could still smell him even on this dusty and long-forgotten piece of clothing, then even if he wasn't physically here with her she could manage. And she would manage, she would. They were already halfway through the week after all, and she would prove to everyone—to herself—that they (she) could do this.

Ashley wears the sweater all the rest of the day once she wakes up.

***

In true Chris Hartley fashion, day four finds himself absolutely glued to the screen of his phone. Shortly after forcing down a small breakfast in an attempt to alleviate his worried parents' concern, he had spent what was probably a far too long amount of time in his text messages just staring at Ash's name. His thumbs hovering nervously over the keyboard as he fought with himself over and over again, debating if texting Ashley would be okay. Yes, the two of them had agreed that this 'break' (he hates the word, hates it hates it hates it with every fibre of his being) was needed if they wanted to try and get themselves ready for the separation that college life would inevitably bring, but that was to try and prepare themselves for not being able to see each other for long periods of time. They wouldn't be able to see each other during classes or during periods of intense studying and working on projects, but they would still be able to talk. Hell, his entire first year of college while she was still in high school had been just that. They hadn't been able to hang out in weeks, but they had still texted all the time.

So biting the bullet, Chris had gone ahead and texted Ash a quick and easy 'hey'. No 'miss you', no 'this was a terrible idea', no ' i wish you were here right now'. Just a simple 'hey' and then he stared at his phone, face pale and hands shaking as he waited to see what she would do. He didn't care if she would just send back a scathing reply about how he was breaking the rules by doing this, he just needed her to respond and reassure him that she was alright. That she was still alive and his insecurities were getting the best of him.

The phone rumbling softly in his hand was a godsend, and so too was the affirmative 'hi :)' that she had responded with. After that, it was as though the floodgates had opened. The two of them texted each other back and forth the entire rest of the day, her telling him about the books she had been reading as he told her about his adventures through late 90's and early 2000's gaming. They told each other what they had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They talked about everything and nothing and it was so blissfully normal that Chris wondered why on earth it had taken him this long to text her in the first place. He thinks that he was so used to just having her there with him all the time, that the idea that they could still text hadn't even crossed his mind.

There are things he doesn't tell her of course. That the idea of falling asleep without knowing she's next to him and safe is so ludicrous that he had stopped trying, only sleeping in small, unintended fits that leave him feeling even worse than before. That despite at least continuing to eat, the food tastes like nothing and he can only manage a few bites before excusing himself. And what little he does eat almost always manages to come back up during the night, though thankfully when his parents are both sleeping (he doesn't want them to worry more than they already are). Chris doesn't want to worry Ashley, not when it seems like she's managing this whole seven-day long affair better than he is so far. If she can do this, then so can he.

So no matter how many times his thumb hovers over the call icon in the corner, he does not press it. Texting will have to be enough, he knows that the moment he hears her voice then every single shred of resolution he has built up will crumble in seconds and he'll be driving as fast as he can so he can see her again. And they're already four days deep into their seven days, the last thing he wants is for Ashley to decide that they need to start all this over from the top again.

***

Ashley is comfortable in her bed, more comfortable than she's ever felt in her life honestly. Chris's arm is draped heavily over her waist, and his breath is warm on the back of her neck as he peacefully naps the afternoon away. His body is solid against her back and she feels so, so safe and so, so loved as she continues to read her book, a favourite of hers that she had read cover to cover a million times but always felt like coming home in its warm familiarity. Contentedly, she flips a page and snuggles back further into Chris's body and she feels something warm and wet drip onto her neck.

"Chriiiiiiis," she groans, but not without an edge of laughter, "wake up. You're drooling on me, you dip." He doesn't move, and Ashley repositions herself a little, made difficult by the weight of his arm over her, and jabs her elbow into his gut. "I'm serious you dork, wake up. I swear to god, you sleep like the de—" The words die in her throat in horror when she turns her head to face him.

His head isn't there. Nothing is there. Just dark blood pouring hot and heavy from the open space above his neck, staining the fur lining his coat and the once clean, white snow as the blizzard rages around her. Desperate to prove that this isn't real, that it can't be real, she fumbles for the hand that hangs limp at her waist and threads her fingers through his, but his fingers are cold to the touch and black with frostbite, and no matter how hard she squeezes he isn't squeezing back. She's fully aware that she's openly crying and sobbing as she repeats his name over and over, begging him to wake up and tell her that this isn't real. Her tears are freezing on her cheeks the moment they fall.

From deep within the treeline, a high-pitched shriek that rattles the teeth in her mouth echoes long and loud around the wide, open snow-covered space.

Cries and nausea alike stick in her throat as she tries frantically to wiggle out from Chris's body, but his arm is a dead weight that keeps her pinned in place against him. "C'mon, Chris. We need to go. We need to hide. Get up, please please please get up."

There's a soft thump of a large body landing in the snow far off to the right, unseen but not unheard, and she freezes in place. Hoping and praying that the thing won't see them as she huddles in closer to the protection that Chris's body is offering, her blood stained fingers tightening painfully on his limp hand and around the leather bound journal she is still holding in her other. In fear she buries her face into the snow beneath her, the cold biting at her skin and the metallic taste of Chris's spilt blood filling her mouth and nose. For a moment, there's nothing. No sound except for the wind whistling through the trees as the snow whips wildly around them.

And then Chris is gone. The comforting and yet horrifying weight he had been is just gone as he's suddenly flung through the air and colliding into a tree with a sickening crunch. Her hand had been gripping onto his so fiercely and so tightly that she had been pulled with him for just a second before his hand had been violently ripped out of her grasp. Leaving Ashley to stare wide-eyed and terrified into the face of the thing—its body too long and spindly with far too many sharp angles to be considered human—standing above her as she lays on her back. Milky-white eyes gaze back down unseeingly at her and Chris's blood is dripping from sharp, deadly claws that splatter onto her face. The thing opens its mouth to showcase row upon row of crooked and yellowed razor-sharp teeth and it screams at her, spittle flying into Ashley's face as her ears ring and ring and ring.

Too scared to cry, too scared to move, Ashley just wishes that Chris was still here with her and not lying broken and mangled and headless at the foot of a tree as he continues to slowly bleed out into the crisp white snow. A small little whimper, barely louder than the whisper of wind blowing through grass and certainly going unheard in this howling blizzard, escapes past her lips but it's enough. In a flash, the same deadly claws are raking towards her face to rip her head off in the same way it had to Chris.

And Ashley screams.

She screams and screams and screams, and screams only louder when a pair of hands cradle her face and a voice begs and pleads with her to wake up. Ashley tries to fight back against the hands and the voice, screaming for Chris to wake up and help her, but her own words keep getting caught on the blood that is bubbling out of her mouth. There's another scream, this one not her own, and then the hands have moved to try and open her mouth but she won't let them. She doesn't want her jaw ripped off like what had happened to poor Jess. Like what she had seen in the pictures that the rangers had shown her and Chris so they could identify the half naked body discovered in the mines. So she fights back even harder, trying to claw at the person or thing that killed Chris and Jess and everyone else. And then there's a cry of pain, and the hands on her face have vanished, appearing around her wrists so they could try and hold her panicked flailing back.

The moment the hands appear on her wrists, Ashley's eyes fly open and she can't breathe. She can't breathe because she's hanging in the shed, the wood cold against her back as saws whir menacingly both in front and above her as Josh hangs limpy next to her. The lower half of his body an impossible mess on the floor and the grey intestines that had managed to stay in his upper half hanging down towards it like grotesque party streamers. From behind the steel chain link fence that partitions the room, Chris stands looking straight at her as he holds a gun to his jaw, his face pale as he smiles shakily at her and pulls the trigger.

Somehow, the scream that finally manages to break through is louder than all the rest.

There's more begging and pleading that she can't make out against the loud mechanical whir of the saws. And then a phone chimes, only just managing to cut through all the screaming and whirring and echoes of gunshots. And then it chimes again, louder this time. And again. And again. And she realizes that she recognizes it, it's the ringtone that Chris had set on her phone for his contact ages and ages ago as a joke, and she had just kept forgetting to change it back until it just became his notification, joke or not.

Slowly, the shed fades away until all she's left seeing is her mother standing in her brightly lit bedroom, screaming at someone through her phone. But all Ashley is paying attention to is the repeated chimes going off constantly on her phone one after another, the screen never getting the chance to go dark before another text comes in, and Chris's name appearing for every single one.

Saundra seems to notice that her daughter has finally stopped screaming, and although she continues to plead with whoever it is on the phone with her, she reaches out a hesitant and unsure hand. Ashley notices none of this as blood continues to dribble slowly out of her mouth as she picks up and unlocks her phone.

***

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong and it isn't the fact that Chris is kneeling over the toilet as he retches into it for the second time tonight. Oh no, the something wrong is due to the fact that despite it being past midnight he can hear his mom trying frantically to calm someone down on the phone. It was the phone ringing that had woken him up in fact from where he had accidentally dozed off on the couch, waking up to find the old playstation controller hanging loose in his fingers and Crash idly spinning a piece of wumpa fruit on his finger in all his polygonal glory. Chris had dropped the controller the rest of the way to the floor in his rush to the bathroom though, startling poor Toby from where he had been snoozing the night away in his dog bed. He had only barely made it before he found himself throwing up what little food he had been able to eat during the day, and the coolness of the porcelain against is forehead was a balm of relief when compared to the burning in his throat and heat of his tears as they flowed slowly down his face.

He could tell the moment that Lilith had found him from the surprised cry of alarm behind him, quickly followed by a clatter as she dropped the phone to the linoleum floor in her shock as she reached out to take her son's face in her hands. Chris knew that he must have looked a dreadful sight, his face pale and drawn while his eyes looked at her with a glassy stare. The next second, she was yelling over her shoulder for his father to wake up now and turn on the car, but Chris wasn't paying any attention to that. Not when he was just starting to make out the sound of the voice through the phone, and more importantly, the screaming in the background of the call.

That was Ashley's scream. It was a sound he didn't think he would ever be allowed to forget and it hit him that she was screaming—screaming for him—and he wasn't there.

Clumsily, he ripped his face from his mother's hands and stumbled to the living room where he had left his phone on the couch. He had to help her. She needed him and he had to help her. The moment he finally had his phone in his hand he pulled up her contact name...and then he froze unsure of what to do. He couldn't call her, not because of this whole stupid break thing, but because the sound of her voice sobbing on the phone will cause him to break down with her and the last thing either of them need is to scream and cry while they're both so, so far away from each other. So he does the next best thing he can do:

He texts her.

C: what does a cloud wear under his raincoat? C: thunderwear C: why are teddy bears never hungry? C: cause they're always stuffed C: why do ducks have tail feathers? C: to cover up their buttquacks C: what kind of shoes do private investigators wear? C: sneak-ers C: why do i never tell jokes about pizza? C: they're too cheesey

And on and on and on. Even as his fingers shake he continues to text her stupid little jokes. The same ones he tells to her when he's there to hold her in his arms and remind her that he's still okay and that she’s safe. There's no describing the sob of relief he makes when she finally responds.

C: prime-mates C: what event do spiders love to attend? A: Cats C: webbings

There's a moment where he doesn't know what she means by that. How on earth could cats be the pun he was looking for in the joke? And then it hits him. She needs to know that it's really him telling these jokes and that she's not just making up everything she's seeing on her phone. Ashley is asking for the stupidest jokes about cats he knows so she can confirm that it's really him on the phone. Even tired as he is—and he is so so tired—they come naturally to him as only talking with Ashley and middle school dad jokes ever did.

C: what's a cat's favourite colour? C:purr-ple C: what do you call a cat that loves to bowl? C: an alley cat C: what's a cat's favourite tv show? C: claw and order C: what does the cat say after making a joke? C: just kitten

And so on and so forth. Ashley throws out a new topic for jokes and Chris replies with them as quickly as he can. He can hear his mom and dad talking in the next room, to each other and Saundra on the phone, but the only person he cares about is the one on the other side of his. He needs to call her. He knows what Ashley needs when she has a nightmare this bad, and the jokes are helping but she needs to hear his voice to be truly convinced that he's okay. But he can't hear hers without making things so much worse than they already are and he doesn't know what to say that would calm her down and—he stares at the last joke he had just typed out unconsciously it hits him.

C: what did the two volcanoes say to each other? C: i lava you C: i'm going to call your phone but whatever you do don't answer it C: just let it go to voicemail and please don't answer it C: please

Chris doesn't wait for her response as he shoves past his father to his bedroom, ignoring the startled shout as he slams the door behind him, and slumps against it to the floor. He doesn't want his parents to hear this. It's not anything that would worry them, but it's so so private and the only person he wants to hear this is Ash. He still doesn't look at her response as he frantically taps the call button and listens to the phone ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And then, finally, he hears her voice for the first time in nearly a week.

"Hi, this is Ashley. Sorry I can't come to the phone right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Promise!"

***

Please enter your password.

6279#

You have one new voice message. To play your messages, press one. To record—

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said it five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep and after waking up every day. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

To replay this message: press one. To go to—

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said something five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep every night and after waking up every morning. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me over that diner's table. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

"I love you. I'm—"

"I love you."

To replay this message: press one. To go to the previous message: press one one. To pause during message playback: press two. To fast forward a message during playing: press three. To hear this message, and the time it was delivered: press five. To copy this message to another person: press six. To erase this message and go to the next: press seven. To reply: press eight. To save this message and go to the next: press nine. To—

You have no new messages.

*beep*

A: I need you A: Please A: Please A: I need you A: I need you A: I need you

Please enter your password.

***

The car ride over was almost unbearable. Chris wasn't driving himself fortunately, with how tired and anxious he had been feeling for days now it would have been an absurdly stupid idea that likely would have ended in his death if he wasn't extremely lucky. As it was, he had been ready to go and beg a ride from his parents but had found Gabe already standing by the front door with the keys in hand. His almost pure white hair messy from being pulled from bed unexpectedly and leveling Chris with a glare that brooked no argument. It wasn't an argument that Chris intended to fight against as he hugged his father hard in thanks before climbing into the back of the vehicle.

But the drive had felt so much longer than it usually did, and Ashley having stopped responding to his texts certainly hadn't helped matters any. He still sent them anyways, more for his own reassurance than hers now. Lilith sat in the passenger seat next to her husband, still talking on the phone to Saundra to give progress reports and reassurances that yes the three of them were on their way now, even as she sent the occasional nervous glances at Chris in the backseat. Though worried for him or for the car upholstery in case the movement of the vehicle set off his gag reflex was anyone's guess.

The moment Chris felt the vehicle slow down his eyes jumped to the window and saw the familiar and welcoming shape of Ashley's building and he was already fumbling with seatbelt and opening the car door before they had even fully stopped. He hears his parent's cry out in shock as he dives out the still moving (even if very slowly) vehicle and he's stumbling towards the door. Chris realizes in horror that in his hurry to leave he had managed to completely forget his keys by the front door, and in the time it takes him to realize that the door has already opened. Saundra is standing in front of him dressed up for her overnight shift at the dispatch center that she is now extremely late for, and phone held up to her ear as she stares at him with wide eyes.

Chris doesn't even bother to say thanks or remark about the deep scratches on her cheek, the pair still bleeding just a little, before he's shoving his way past her and up the stairs to where Ashley's room is. He trips on the last step and falls forward, his phone skittering across the floor, but leaves it once he gets to his feet and just about barges into her room.

He takes barely a moment to stare at Ashley huddled up on her bed, looking so small in his dark sweater, and her eyes squeezed shut as her phone is pressed as close to her ear as possible as she rocks back and forth. There's a thin streak of dried blood from her mouth all the way down her chin and her eyes fly open in shock when he takes an unsteady step towards her. For a split second he's too scared to move, he doesn't want to frighten her anymore than she already is, but then the phone drops from her fingers and she whimpers out his name like she can’t believe he’s really here and he breaks.

He's already fully crying as he collides into her on the bed, but so is she so there's no need to feel embarrassed about that. He can hear his own voice as a tinny facsimile from the phone as the voicemail continues to play out before starting off into the electronic drone of the operator, but he ignores it for the feel of Ashley's arms wrapped firmly around him, her hands clawing into the back of his shirt to try and hold him closer as they both sob bitterly into each others shoulders. Chris is the first to pull back, though it's just so he can hold her face in his hands as he presses their foreheads together, thumbs wiping away tears that won't stop falling even as he continues to cry himself, just soaking in her presence in front of him. Ashley takes no time for her hands to start roaming all over his skin when they snake underneath his shirt, just feeling the unmarked bare skin as she searches for wounds and marks that no longer exist or have never even existed in the first place.

The two of them sit there like that for an unknown amount of time, just confirming that the other is truly alive and safe. Until Ashley slowly removes her hands from under his shirt so she can drag him down and forward into a deep kiss. A kiss that is by all accounts is downright awful considering that Chris never got the chance to rinse out his mouth and all he can taste is the blood in Ashley's from where she had bit her tongue during her nightmare at some point. Neither of them care. And he still doesn't care when Ashley starts to leave what may very well be slightly bloody kisses as she trails her lips from his mouth to the corner of his lips, across his cheek, and down his jaw until she finds the spot she's looking for and stops there so she can feel his frantic pulse thrumming beneath the skin. She holds her mouth there for what many would likely consider to be an uncomfortably long amount of time, but Chris says nothing. Not when he's now too busy picking up where Ashley had let off, letting his hands skate over the area of her stomach and waist beneath her shirt and his sweater.

The moment the two of them have calmed down enough that the sobs have lessened into quiet tears, Ashley finally removes her lips from his jaw and lowers one of her hands so she can place it flat on his chest and can feel his heart thumping steadily beneath her hand. Chris lets a hand cover hers to hold it there while he carefully places the other on the back of her neck, this thumb soothingly rubbing back and forth to comfort her. And gently, so gently, he brings their foreheads back together as they let the last of their adrenaline run out.

She's safe. He's safe. They're both safe and that is all that matters right now.

"I'm sorry," Ashley is the first to speak and words catch and almost shatter on the way out. "I'm so sorry. This was such a stupid idea and—"

He doesn't disagree with her. This had been a terrible idea from the start and while she's not wrong that they need to get used to not being around all the time, this was too much too soon. For both of them it seems. "I can't do that again Ash," he says instead. "We'll figure something out. Make agreements with our dorm roommates if we have to, force the college heads to accept our emails and the doctors advice, or rent the shittiest and cheapest apartment we can find. I don't care. We'll figure it out, but I can't do that again Ash. I love you but I can't."

Ashley nods weakly against his head in agreement. She can't do it again either. The two of them had barely lasted five days after all, and this whole failed endeavour had probably sent them back months. "I love you too. I love you so so much. You can't leave me, Chris, please. You can't. Not tonight."

He has no intention to, he doesn't know what his parents intended bringing him here, or if they thought he'd be going back home with them after this, but he's not going anywhere. They'll have to drag him kicking and screaming from the bed if they try, and now that the adrenaline has finally worn off, the lack of sleep he'd been having the last five days is hitting him and he is just so, so very tired. So tired, that all he gives in reply is just a reassuring forehead kiss in promise that he won't be going anywhere, not for a long time if he can help it, and then starts to bring Ashley down so she can lay on the bed with him. She follows without a fight.

It only takes them a moment to settle, Ashley laying so her front is flush to his back as is physically possible with her arm draped over his waist and fingers threaded tightly through his. Chris takes her other hand so he can softly kiss her inner wrist and then holds the knuckles lightly to his lips. The two of them slowly drifting off as Ashley continues to softly whisper declarations of love into the back of his neck.

Chris's eyes are closed, just enjoying her whispers that are meant just for him to hear, and even then he can tell that someone is standing in the door and watching them. But even if he opened his eyes to see who it was, with his glasses now resting in their spot on Ashley’s bedside table, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. And he’s just far too exhausted to even try right now. It’s only her mom anyway, or one of his parents—quite possibly all three of them—and he knows that come morning and after hours and hours of sleep, that there are going to be some conversations and intense worried scolding that need to be had. But with Ashley's fingers squeezing around his, and him squeezing back just as firmly, he doesn't care.

For the first time in a little over five days, the two of them fall asleep peacefully. Secure and content in the knowledge that they’re not gonna have to do this again, not for a very, very long time.

#my writing #pride month prompt challenge #until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #chrashley #is a sad heartbreaking story #lik dis if you cry #asdsakjdasd

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fanfic-me-up · 4 years

Text

okay so i kinda got carried away with this one??? i just really love this idea and how freaking fluffy it is! so thank you for submitting it @peachy-yabbay! 😊 also lowkey im sorta falling in love with kaminari?? like he’s so fun to write and i had a smile the entire time. anyway i rlly hope you enjoy!

Feel free to request more here. I write fics, drabbles, and headcanons 💖

Also, I have a yoga fic already posted with bakugou x fem!reader so if this doesn’t satisfy your need of bakugou being a flexible pretzel and failing you can read more here 😂

Bakugou Katsuki

THE STRUGGLE IS REAL

like Bakugou prides himself on going to the gym everyday, but he focuses on strength training and muscle building

the art of flexibility takes time, effort, and perseverance

he gets super frustrated when he can't get the splits in 2.5 seconds

“Careful or you might pull something.”

he ignores you ofc bc for some reason he thinks he’s gonna get the splits if he just - forces himself???

“seriously, Bakugou, don’t push so much-”

“Shut up I know what I’m - OW SHIT FUCKING HELL”

poor bby is on the ground cradling his thigh bc he pulled his hamstring

And lemme tell you THAT SHIT HURTS 😭

he’s literally screaming bloody murder

-like he’s faced a lot of pain from hero training but pulling your hamstring is just so. much. worse???

you grab an icyhot pack (aka you grab Todoroki lol) but Bakugou’s just like “hell no fuck off half n half”

“Must be bad. I heard you crying from downstairs-”

“I SAID FUCK OFF” Todoroki shrugs and leaves.

you roll your eyes at Bakugou’s stubbornness and grab some muscle balm instead

“Tch. I can do it myself” but you ignore him and rub the balm on his thigh, he doesn’t fight it

after that whole fiasco he finally listens to your warnings when you tell him that's enough

he’s in the splits in a little over a month!

“Oh my god, Bakugou, you’re doing it!”

“Tch. I know.”

you don’t miss the small smile on his face

he goes up to you later and shoves something in your hands

“Um. What’s this?”

“A movie ticket” you stare at it blankly, he rolls his eyes

“I’m taking you to the movies tonight, dumbass.”

“Like a date?” you stare up with hopeful eyes

“The fuck? No! As payment.”

you blink, clearly confused

“You know… for helping me with my stretches.”

Oh.

you blush in embarrassment at the misunderstanding

“I’ll meet you out front at 7. Don’t be late.” he walks off, but before he reaches the corner he stops-

“Ugh fine! It’s a date! Happy!?”

you erupt in the biggest smile

he wants to be the only one to make you smile like that from now on

Todoroki Shouto

Todoroki is impressed with how flexible you are, and you’re quite surprised when he asks you to help him

the most aloof - and handsome - guy in your class you’ve barely spoken TWO words to has come to you for help??? is this a dream? someone pinch you 👀

but there you are, the next day in his dorm, gently pushing his hips down

Todoroki’s working on his warrior/scorpion pose (ya’ll there's so many names for this pose jfc the one where you’re standing on one leg, back arched, and you’re holding the other leg above your head)

he’s sweating and breathing heavily, and when you go to steady him, you actually burn your hand on his bicep.

“Ouch!”

“Are you okay?”

he’s hovering over you the next second, you show him your hand, a blister already forming

“Damn it. I still have trouble controlling my left side,” he looks away from you, clenching his fists, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you blow cool air on the wound to stop the tingling, “all better,” you smile up at him

“Here, let me,” he pulls his shirt up to reveal his stomach and places your hand on the right side. You sigh in relief as your hand is instantly cooled.

Uh oh.

you realize where your hand is currently pressed against 😳

you’re so tempted to trace along the hard contours of his abs

“Y/N? You’re burning up.” he touches your cheek, your heart doing somersaults at the closeness

“Oh-kay, that’s enough for today!” you squeak, running away from a thoroughly confused Todoroki

Todoroki shows excellent progress in just a couple weeks. He says it’s because he has a great teacher, but you know it's his work ethic and how he listens to your advice and applies it flawlessly.

He’s even gotten better at controlling his left side since he’s constantly relaxing his muscles to get deeper in the stretch.

it happens during warm-ups before training

Class 1-A goes into some stretches when you see Todoroki go into a perfect scorpion. His back perfectly arched and his leg reaching above his head.

“Oh my god, Todoroki, you’re doing it!” you clap your hands in excitement

“Am I?”

...is this boy for real? lol

“YES” you laugh at his stoic expression

“I see.” He softly comments before going into another stretch.

your shoulders deflate, disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he cracks a small smile and your breath is taken away by the simple gesture. It’s rare to see him with such a soft expression, and the fact that you’re the reason for it sends your heart aflutter.

AND bc he’s totally oblivious to your current state, he goes up to you and whispers, “you’re an amazing teacher, Y/N”

“It was n-nothing re-really it was a-all you!” you laugh awkwardly, unable to meet his eyes.

“How can I thank you?”

“It-it’s really n-not necessary!”

“Hmm…” he walks away deep in thought and you’re just standing there like the stuttering mess you are bc how dare he walk away like nothing!?

Mina’s got your back tho bc frankly it's quite sad how awkward you are and how oblivious Todoroki is that she NEEDS to become the captain of this ship stat

She “casually” suggests to Todoroki that he should take you out to eat as a thank you for helping him.

and when he walks you to your door that night he says, “I hope you enjoyed our date”

“D-date?” cue the butterflies in your stomach

“Was it not a date?” You’re pinned by his intense gaze, but you manage to squeak out a “yes!” in your confused daze. He chuckles at your nervousness

“Have a good night, Y/N.” he kisses your cheek

and when you give Mina the details of your date there’s a bunch of squealing from her end and you’re just like 😳 the entire night

Kaminari Denki

“Woah, Y/N, you’re really flexible. Can you put your foot over your head?”

You show him and he’s totally amazed. “Cool! Can you teach me? I wanna put BOTH legs over my head!”

first day of stretching with Kaminari is… def a day you remember

“Ow ow! Y/N, don’t break me!”

“Denki, I’m not even touching you!”

He looks up where your hands are on your hips

“oh... heh” he gives you a sheepish smile

You roll your eyes. How you’re gonna get this boy flexible enough to put his foot over his head is beyond you, but you’re happy it’s going to take a while - it means more time spent with your crush

You spend an hour with Kaminari each day to perfect his stretching routine (It should only take about 20 minutes, but the boy’s got the attention span of a newborn puppy)

“Woah check out that cloud, Y/N.” Kaminari looks in awe at the sky. You sigh, not again

“Denki, we’re not done, get back in the stretch”

“Look Y/N,” he points, “doesn’t it look exactly like baby yoda?” He lies down on the grass to gaze at the clouds

“Oh my god, Denki, I’m gonna kill - oh wow…” you gaze up in awe at the cloud, “baby yoda…”

You and Kaminari spend the rest of the hour cloud gazing

After literal MONTHS of getting on Kaminari’s ass he can FINALLY put his legs over his head.

He calls out to you during a training exercise, “Y/N LOOK I DID IT!”

“NOT ONE BUT TWO!” he points at both of his legs with a huge smile

You feel a rush of happiness because even after how frustrated you were with him at times, you would do it a million times over if it meant getting to see such a pure smile.

“Congrats!” you say, “Now, stand up so I can give you a hug!”

“Um…” he sheepishly looks up at you, “I’m kinda... stuck?”

You roll your eyes affectionately, “the things I do for you.”

You’re about to help Kaminari when Bakugou shoves him backwards giving everyone in class a clear view of his ass in the air 😂

“Hah, dumbass.”

Kaminari waddles helplessly side to side

“Y/N?” he squeaks, “a little help here?”

Later that week he tells you he found a yoga class for both of you to take and you’re surprised. He still wants to spend time with you?

But then he says, “Are you crazy? Why wouldn’t I wanna spend time with the coolest person I know?”

You choke on your tea, in disbelief at his words - that was a huge compliment and you know Kaminari is a very open person so you just brush it off with an “Oh stop it…”

“No I’m serious, Y/N, you’re awesome. Like super awesome,” he gives an awkward laugh while rubbing the back of his neck

“I’ve been thinking… maybe after yoga, we can, i don't know... hit up the arcade or something? Or it doesn’t have to be the arcade, it could be anything really!”

You’ve never seen Kaminari this flustered before. He’s the type to brush off his mistakes with a laugh, always moving on to the next moment.

“No, the arcade sounds fun!”

You reassure him and the confident light in his eyes returns

“Oh and Denki?”

“Yeah?”

“Prepare to get rekt in mario kart”

This starts a whole ass play fight about who’s gonna get dunked on when racing down rainbow road

#bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #kaminari x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #kaminari denki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #bnha headcanon #katsuki bakugou x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #bnha fluff #fanfic-me-up #fanfic-me-up request

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set-phasers-to-whump · 3 years

Text

silence

prompt: hand gagging

whumpee: shawn spencer

fandom: psych

hi welcome to another psych fic! this is set before shawn takes a shot in the dark but like anytime before that. brief setup of the scene is shawn is exploring someplace (not important where) for a case, by himself. jules is out of town for something (which is only relevant for a sec but i wanna make sure it’s not confusing lol). anyway i hope you like this fic!

Shawn doesn’t stop running when the bullet hits him. In fact, he doesn’t even register the impact, too caught up in getting the hell away from this guy with the gun.

He skids around a corner, nearly losing his balance, then turns down a hallway. He risks a glance over his shoulder and sees his pursuer come around the same corner, then pause for a second and look both ways. Shawn ducks out of sight as the man’s eyes come his way, but he hears more gunshots and approaching footsteps and realizes he hadn’t gotten out of the field of view quickly enough.

He starts running again, and suddenly realizes that his left arm is wet. Which is weird. He spares a glance at it as his feet fly over the tile, and notices with alarm that it’s red. He thinks it has to be blood, but he doesn’t know from where. He reaches out a hand to touch it and -

Yeah. That had been a mistake. He barely stops himself from screaming as his hand makes contact with what he is rapidly realizing is a bullet wound in his upper arm.

He can’t deal with this right now - he’s running for his life and he’s been shot and he might get shot again and maybe even die, and he can’t die right now, but his arm really hurts and it’s making it kind of difficult to think about what he should do.

Shawn turns another corner and there! - ahead of him, on the right, is a door with a sign on it. He doesn’t pause to read it, just wrenches it open with his good arm and shuts the door behind him, just as he hears the footsteps of the gunman turn the corner after him.

Shawn stumbles around in the small, dark space, which he can infer is some kind of storage closet. He feels for a lock on the door handle and, disappointingly, finds none. He moves to feel for some kind of implement to defend himself with, instead - a broom, maybe - but his leg hits something on the floor and sends him stumbling forward and his left arm slams into something hard and metallic and he clamps his right hand firmly over his mouth to stop himself from screaming. His blood pounds in his ears from a combination of pain and fear that he’s about to be discovered, and his entire left arm from the elbow to the shoulder feels like it’s on fire or something. He breathes heavily and unevenly into his hand and forces himself to not make any other noise.

Above the pounding in his ears, Shawn listens. His pursuer’s footsteps approach the closet, and he clamps his hand still harder over his mouth, trying desperately not to breathe at all. The footsteps pass his hiding spot and he feels suddenly, horribly dizzy with a lack of air and he wants to breathe and he wants to scream or maybe cry and he wants out of here and he really wants to not die and to not have a bullet wound in him. God, it hurts.

The footsteps fade away. Shawn hears a door open and slam and then there’s a muffled curse, as of one who has lost their prey. He moves his hand away from his mouth at long last and breathes, ragged and pained and barely controlled. He’d scream, or maybe at least whimper, but he still can’t be completely sure that the guy is really, truly gone. Maybe he’s trying to trick Shawn, maybe he’s waiting for him to reveal his location and then he’s going to come back and shoot him in the head this time, and that’ll be it. So he can’t do anything more than breathe. He can’t leave this closet, not yet.

He just has to let someone else know what’s happened. Then they can make sure that the guy really is gone, and then Shawn will be okay. Yeah. That sounds like a good plan.

He texts Lassie with his usable hand. The head detective’s response is quick and quite possibly a little angry.

You got shot?

not on purpose

We’ll be there in ten minutes. Keep pressure on the wound. And don’t try anything stupid.

Oh. He hadn’t thought of putting pressure on his arm. His dad would be so disappointed...but there’s no time like the present, so Shawn sets down his phone and presses his right hand into his left arm.

And suddenly really wishes that he had another hand, to muffle the sounds of agony that are absolutely begging to come out of his mouth. Pressing into the wound hurts about a million times more than the wound itself, and he really wants to let go, but he knows he’s supposed to do this and it’s only for a few minutes, but it hurts. He can’t quite stop himself from whimpering in pain, but the door doesn’t come smashing open, so he figures he’s not being too loud. He feels a hot tear run down his cheek and hot blood seeping into his fingertips and he hopes Lassie really had meant ten minutes.

Almost exactly ten minutes later, Shawn becomes aware of voices in the hallway. He can’t quite place them, and for a second, he panics, and then he hears Lassie’s voice, shouting at someone to do something, and if Lassiter’s here then that means he’s safe.

“I’m in here!” he shouts, and lets go of his arm to grab at the door handle and let himself out. His bloody fingers refuse to get a grip on the metal, though, and they slide off, but it doesn’t matter - a second later, the door’s opening and he has to step out of the way and then he’s face to face with Lassie and if he didn’t know better he’d say he almost looks worried, and then he remembers his arm but finds he doesn’t really have the energy to scream like he’d wanted to do so badly before.

“It hurts,” he says, instead, and his voice is barely above a whisper. “Am I dying?” He doesn’t think so, but you can never be too sure.

“You’re fine,” Lassie is saying, but that’s easy for him to say, he’s not the one with a bullet in him. “Or, you’re not dying, anyway.”

That’s all I needed to hear, Shawn thinks, and then another wave of dizziness hits him and everything starts to spin, and then he’s falling and someone’s grabbing him and they hit his hurt arm and he does scream, now, finally, loud and raw and with the force of all the screams he’d forced down before behind it, and then everything fades into nothingness.

He wakes up slowly, uncomfortably, achingly. None of the good stuff, he thinks glumly. Thanks, Dad. He turns to look at his left arm, and is pleased to see that it’s no longer bloody. It’s wrapped in bandages and a sling and he wonders how long that’s going to be on, and how long until he can get out of here, because any amount of time spent in the hospital when he could be out there doing stuff is time wasted.

“You’re here for at least another day,” comes a voice from his right side, as though its owner has read his thoughts, and Shawn jolts in surprise, turning around.

“Lassie! You scared me.”

Lassiter shrugs. “Sorry,” he says, and there’s hardly any sarcasm at all behind the words.��

Shawn doesn’t know what to focus on first - the fact that he’s apparently stuck here for at least 24 more hours, the fact that Lassie has just spoken to him almost completely nicely, or the fact that Lassie’s even here at all.

He’s trying to decide what to say when Lassiter speaks again. “O’Hara’s on her way. She said there was some traffic, but that she should be here within the hour. I believe Guster said something about the cafeteria a few minutes ago, and Henry said he'd stop by after dinner. The Chief sends her regards and hopes you’ll be pleased to know that one of our officers apprehended your shooter.”

Now Shawn really doesn’t know what to say. What does Lassie have to go being all nice and…message-delivery-y for? He’s silent for a moment, trying to work out what exactly to say, but in the end figures simple is best.

“Thanks.”

Lassie doesn’t say anything, but there’s something that you might call the barest hint of a smile on his face, and it’s more than reply enough.

thanks for reading this! i’m still p new to writing psych and i’ve never written lassie before so i am very sorry if anything seems ooc. i will learn! anyway i hope you liked this :) love u all <3

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump14 #hand gagging #shot #psych #shawn spencer #my writing #i say things #tbh i was not entirely sure what 'hand gagging' meant so i went with my own personal interpretatino which was the hand over the mouth deal #anyway yes i know my title sucks ass i am sorry but i can't be bothered to think up anything clever tonight lmao

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fanfalc-616 · 3 years

Text

The Rights Of A Nindroid

Chapter Fifteen

(Prevoius Chapter Here)

(Discord Here)

Been a while since I’ve posted, sorry about that-

I’m supposed to be in school rn lol

When finally taken back to the lockers, after thirty exhausting hours, Cryptor feels as though he’s on the verge of a forced shutdown.

The damn brat had switched out with someone else, claiming something about an internship. And that had at least meant that the one hurting him no longer had a personal vendetta, but it was still painful.

Cryptor hates how close he had come to actually asking them to hurt Zane instead, but he didn’t. Though judging by the way the other looks when the two of them are put in the locker, they hurt him anyway.

DID THEY GIVE YOU A CHOICE TOO?

Zane doesn’t answer for a moment, likely out of surprise or maybe exhaustion.

I DIDNT GIVE IN

Cryptor snorts. Of course he didn’t. He’s a self-sacrificing dumbass, and it had been that knowledge that had allowed Cryptor to hang on himself.

HOW LONG A BREAK DO YOU THINK WELL GET?

It’s a morbid game, really, but the two of them had taken to guessing how long they would get before dragged out for testing or torture.

AT LEAST SIX HOURS WE WERE THERE FOR OVER A DAY

Mulls over the words, Cryptor considers the idea. Zane’s probably right, but he feels like arguing.

OR THEYLL WANT TO BEAT IT INTO US WITH A SHORTER ONE

There’s a pause, and Cryptor takes a moment to hate himself. Yes, start an argument with his one friend, that’s a wonderful idea.

IS SOMEONE HAVING A BAD DAY?

Cryptor snorts. Good, Zane can tell when he’s only pretending to argue. Probably picked that up from his teammates.

WHAT DO YOU THINK?

The friendly banter continues for a while, but Cryptor can eventually feel himself shutting down from exhaustion.

He taps out a goodbye and a quick explanation before falling asleep, hoping- but not expecting- that they’ll get today off.

{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }

Jay is starting to lose his grip.

Kai had gotten himself under house arrest by breaking into the government building- which he neglected to tell them the location of before doing so- and since they live on the Bounty, they’re stuck grounded so that the police can make sure that Kai’s not leaving.

Also he’s been sulking the whole time.

It’s already been almost two months, but he still has another four left, and everyone on the ship is going crazy from it.

“I am this close to renting a hotel until his house arrest is over.” Nya holds up her hand so that her pointer finger and thumb are almost touching.

Cole sighs, shaking his head. “I’d join you, but at this point I’m scared of leaving him unsupervised.”

Jay laughs a little. “Honestly, what could he do that’s worse than what he’s already done?”

The two immediately snap over to looking at him.

“Are you trying to jinx it?!” Cole groans. “You know full well how crazy he can get when it comes to protecting us.”

Wincing, Jay accepts the point. “That’s fair. But I doubt he would-“

Lloyd comes running into the room. “Kai left the ship. He tied his house arrest bracelet to the roomba so it would move, and I don’t know where he went.”

Jay blinks. “I stand corrected.”

Then they’re all scrambling to their feet, rushing off to try and find the dumbass hot head that is Kai.

Cole runs outside, probably off to go look at his usual hiding places- he’s run off before, but never under house arrest.

Nya goes to her computer, most likely going to try and track his phone- that’s her usual go-to for when one of them goes off to do something stupid.

He’s not entirely sure where Lloyd’s going, but he probably has some kind of plan.

But before Jay has the chance to come up with his own, his BorgPhone rings with a number that he doesn’t recognize.

A flash of fear takes over him. Oh, Kai better not have gotten captured. What happens if he has? They might hurt him, he might go to prison, he could get into all kinds of trouble!

With shaky hands, Jay hits accept and holds the phone up to his ear.

“Hey, this is Jay Walker. Who is this and how have I ruined your life?” Somehow, he manages to keep his voice from shaking.

“It’s more of your boyfriend who’s doing that.” Sentry grumbles. “I found Kai sneaking into Borg Tower- he was trying to find more hints of ways to rescue Zane. Please come and get him before he gets caught- I shoved him in a back room to keep people from finding him, but he’ll probably find a way out pretty soon.”

Jay curses softly. “Of course he did. Okay, I’m on my way.” He starts to head out even as he speaks, silently complaining about how reckless his boyfriend can be. He loves him, he really does, but sometimes- like now- he really wants to slap him.

It takes him around fifteen minutes to make it to Borg Tower, and when he steps inside, Sentry is standing right next to the door.

“He escapes from the room, so I put him in the timeout corner. He’s handcuffed to the wall, but I’m pretty sure that-“

Jay blinks a few times. “Wh- why do you have a timeout corner? And why does it have handcuffs?”

Sighing, Sentry shakes his head. “The white nindroids were created recently and are pretty immature,” he explains, “so a timeout is a pretty effective way to get them to behave. The handcuffs are for when they still don’t listen- now come on, we should hurry before he finds a way out.”

So Jay lets the nindroid lead him through the tower, trying to stop the way he’s nervously jittering. It- it’ll be fine, it’ll be totally and completely fi-

They come into a back room where Kai is in a chair and in handcuffs that are attached to the wall, forcing his hands above his head.

Jay glances over at Sentry. “Uh-“

“We have two timeout corners. This one is for the nindroids who cause trouble repeatedly. Or in this case, the ninja who does that.” He glares at Kai, but the red ninja looks utterly unapologetic.

“I need to rescue Zane. And you didn’t have to call someone to pick me up, I’m not some child in a school’s principal’s office.” Kai huffs, shifting in his bonds.

Jay starts to try and tell him that he’s totally acting like he’s just got his parents called in an office, but Sentry shakes his head, and speaks up.

“There’s a back door you can take him out so that he doesn’t get caught, but keep a better handle on him next time. We really don’t need him getting an actual prison sentence.”

Glancing at his boyfriend, Jay thinks for a moment, trying to figure out if he’d actually be able to get Kai out of here without being seen.

“I’m going to call Cole,” he decides, “he’ll be able to carry him out of here.”

“I can walk!” Kai protests, looking betrayed. “I don’t need to be carried-“

Sentry nods. “Probably a good idea. He might put up a fight on the way out.”

“I can hear you, you know! I’m right here.” Kai sounds annoyed and frustrated, and Jay sighs, feeling himself cave a little.

“It’s okay, Fire-Hazard. I’ll talk Nya out of murdering you, so long as you promise to actually stay on the ship this time.”

At his words, Kai pales a little. It’s clear he hadn’t thought about how his sister would react to him running off.

“I’ll behave.” He grumbles, clearly unhappy about it. “But I can’t just do nothing.”

With a start, Jay realizes that he’s right. The reason that he keeps doing stupid things is because he needs to be doing something to help- if he doesn’t, he’s going to feel like he’s failing Zane.

So they need to come up with something that he could work on, some way he could get them closer to freeing him.

Maybe if he was working on part of the plan…

Jay looks over at Sentry. “We’re looking for legal loopholes right now, right? Could he help you try and find some? From the computer on the ship, I mean.”

Kai perks up a little, and Sentry looks like he’s considering the idea.

“Will that keep him out of trouble?” He sounds hesitant, but Jay quickly nods.

“He just wants to help, give him a way to do that and he’ll be fine.”

The nindroid looks over at Kai. “Is he seriously going to be able to look through legal documents for longer than thirty seconds?” He sounds unamused, but he pauses again when he sees Kai’s determined expression.

“I looked through a ton of them to break in. I’ll do whatever it takes to get him out.”

After hesitating for only a moment longer, Sentry nods. “Alright,” he agrees, “I’ll send over some I haven’t gotten to yet.”

So Jay ends up only calling Cole so that he can let the others know that Jay found him, and Kai actually walks back without putting up a fuss.

It takes a bit of work to get him on the ship stealthily enough so that any potential cameras couldn’t see, but they manage it.

However, when they step onto the bridge, the three others look annoyed beyond belief.

After a pause, Kai chuckles nervously. “On a scale of one to ten, how much trouble am I in?”

“Eleven.” Nya’s smile expresses anything but happiness, and Cole and Lloyd look only slightly less upset.

Somehow, Jay manages to uphold his promise, talking Nya out of giving Kai some five hour lecture that would probably make him regret existing.

Lloyd grabs Stabby and re-attaches the house arrest bracelet, and it’s not long after that the red ninja is in front of the computer, having about seven files open that he’s comparing and researching.

Later, Cole comes up to him. “The research thing was good thinking; it’ll keep him distracted while still allowing him to help.”

Jay flashes him a smile. “What can I say? I actually have good ideas sometimes.”

Cole smirks. “That’s debatable.”

“You literally just told me that I had a good idea.” Jay reminds with his own grin.

With an overly thoughtful expression, Cole strokes his chin. “Did I? I don’t remember that.”

“Wow, and here I was with the idea that elephants never forget.” Jay snarks back, barely containing his snickers.

Mock gasping, Cole puts a hand over his chest. But as he starts to teasingly reply, his smile fades, and he looks down.

“... Zane loved mock arguments.” He murmurs softly, pain suddenly written on his face.

Jay feels his own cheerfulness drain a little. “It took a while to teach him how, but he got pretty good at them.” He quietly agrees as he remembers the difficulty Zane had used to have with humor.

“He got pretty good at them though.” Cole’s smile is more pained now, but it’s there.

With a soft chuckle, Jay nods. “Absolutely trashed us with them.”

But then the emotions are over taking him, and Jay feels himself shaking at the thought of his titanium boyfriend. Who knows what they’re doing to him, from Kai’s recount they’ve been outright torturing him, he-

Cole puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.” He speaks softly, and his voice is uncertain, as though he’s not really sure of himself, even though it sounds like he’s trying to keep it steady.

Jay nods weakly, feeling tears burn at the back of his eyes. “It’ll be okay.” He repeats softly, desperately trying to believe the words.

In the end, Cole has to coax both him and Kai into bed with gentle reassurances and promises that he sounds slightly unsure of, but at this point, Jay’s too desperate to think about how he might be wrong.

He just wants Zane back… is that really too much to ask for?

Apparently, because it doesn’t seem that they’ll be getting him back anytime soon.

That night, even when cuddled in the arms of his other boyfriends, he cries himself to sleep.

Zane will be okay. He has to be okay.

Jay won’t be able to take it if he’s not.

#the rights of a nindroid #ninjago zangst #zangst #ninjago fanfiction #psychological torture #torture #trauma

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