#(a bit long but still a drabble i think)

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Static

This is a drabble I have been planning for a while and I finally know how I want to write it :3

Are you ready?

First Drabble here (with original prompt by @spotaus ) Prev Drabble here Next Drabble here

You see.... there was still something that hadden been addressed :3 Something about how Dust was dealing with the pressure and looks and backstory he has to follow :3

No beta and no edit. (also it is a big boy woops)

Timeline is that Nightmare was deaged like 4 months ago. One month in farmtale

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Cross isn't sure how to deal with the tension in the air.

The bickering between Killer and Dust isn't making it any better.

Okay, Cross has got to be honest. It is much as much bickering as it is Killer being annoying and Dust trying to ignore him.

It had started this morning wiht Dust being more anti-social than usual. Easy to note by the fact that he had darkened the inside of his hoody.

Dust hadn't said a single word the whole day even as he went through the motions perfectly.

Cross is enver sure how to help in these moments. The moments which Horror once explained where most likely the times when the maybe ghost maybe hallucination of Dust's brother were extra loud.

Cross isn't even sure what that situation is. He asked everyone but Dust about it and no one really knows for sure if the Papyrus haunting Dust is actually a ghost. Or if it is a hallucination made of his own guilt. From what Cross heard from the others Dust isn't sure either.

The fact remains. They had tried to help in the ways they usually do. Cross tried to stay near in case he wanted something but mostly kept quiet. Cross tried to be a quiet reminder that Dust isn't alone and isn't whereever he was before.

Horror makes Dust's favourites and gently bullies him into eating and taking care of himself.

Killer tries to distract him.

Killer's tactis either goes very well or very wrong. At least Cross has been told that.

Cross has seen the two fight obviously but as soon as one manages to down the other the fight ends. The winner will be smug in their own way, Killer by loudly proclaiming victory while Dust will just have this smug little smile on his face.

The first time they just tackled one another to fight Cross had been worried. But after getting Horror and asking him what to do he had reassured Cross that this was just something the two did. For Dust it helps unload some of his large magic levels and overcharge and for Killer... welll Horror isn't sure about Killer, he assumes Killer just likes fighting or the attention with fighting.

Cross watches as Killer hangs all over Dust and yaps away about something. Cross can see that the fork Dust is holding is slowly but surely starting to curve under the pressure of Dust's phalanges.

Cross can see that Crop is a lot more nervous as he looks between the two worried before looking at Horror. Horror shrugs at the unspoken question.

Cross turns to check on Nightmare and sees him looking at the two with a frown. Cross grins and nudges him "No need to frown. Just them being silly again." he smiles.

Nightmare looks at him before looking back at the two. The frown not leaving "no... it isn't."

Cross is immediantly more worried, and he already was worried! He studies the two and notices that Dust is breathing very shallowly. Cross looks at Horror and signs it quickly to him.

Horror has a look of alarm on his face before slowly, and very carefully, inching closer "Come on Killer. That is enough. Not in the kitchen."

Killer grins cheerfully, completely unaware of the ticking timebomb he is hanging over "oooooh! here comes your knight in shining armour Dusty!"

Dust's fist twitches and Cross can see the fork fold over completely. Oh no.

Killer continues on as he leans on the other "Princess Dusty, getting saved and needing protection-"

And Killer flies over the table right into the stone wall, leaving large cracks on it. Dust follows two seconds after and punches him straight on the face.

Horror gets to Dust and tries to pull him off only to be turned blue and pushed away. Horror manages to fight the force but is still pushed away.

Cross doesn't think as he grabs Nightmare and backs up against the wall on the other side of the room. Even as Nightmare makes an unhappy noise and reaches for Dust. Nope! Not save right now!

Dust stands there panting heavily as mana and magic crack like electricity over him. Fuck. He is overcharged with magic. Fuck they are idiots to not realise that was going to happen soon. Fuck fuck fuck.

Horror somehow still looks calm even with the two different coloured eye lights staring straight at him from under the dark hood. "It is okay... we just ened to go out and-"

Dust huffs "Don't fucking bother." he sounds furious. He glances around the room and looks into Cross's direction for a moment. Dust looks away with a flinch and he is out of the room.

The front door slams shut.

Horror is by Killer as he helps him up. Killer groans as he rubs his skull "okay... maybe i was pushing it... again."

Horror gives him a 'no shit' look before checking his wounds.

Cross glances at Crop who had backed out of the kitchen and now inches back in "is everyone okay? what... waht was that?!" he waves at the front door.

Horror sighs as he rubs his skull "Overcharge... Dust has a lot of LV, EXP, magic and mana. Even with his buffed stats it gets a lot and he needs to release the steam or well... it goes off." he glances around "Sorry for your kitchen..."

Crop nods as he looks at the frontdoor "is it... safe for him?"

Horror nods as he looks into the same direction "It is... just dumb i forgot he would need to discharge...." he sighs.

Killer groans as he gets up "We all forgot. We have been busy and well... I think Dusty forgot as well."

A tug on his sleeve and Cross looks down at Nightmare. Nightmare just looks at him "Can I go to Dust?"

Cross feels panicked "no?! Just let him discharge Nightmare. You know he will be fine."

Nightmare shakes his skull as he looks at the frontdoor "It seemed different... I can't explain." a frown on his face of frustration.

Cross frowns as he looks at Horror and Killer. They share looks before moving towards the front door.

A loud boom of thunder and they open it to stare.

A large vortext of pure black clouds with purple lightning. SLowly but surely swirling to somewhere above the fields.

Crop whistles "Well then... I never saw that much magic before." he frowns and points "That normal?"

Cross follows the direction as he sees small zaps and static all in the air, all that same purple colour.

Killer shakes his skull "No that isn't normal... fuck I need to apologise..." he rubs his skull before quickly looking at Nightmare "don't repeat that." Nightmare shoots him an annoyed look.

Killer grins back before walking towards the stairs of the porch with purpose. only to get zapped as soon as he gets off the wood. Killer yelps and rushes back to stand behind Horror. glaring at the air "Rude! What the hell Dusty!"

horror frowns at him "hurt?"

Killer shakes his skull "More like a tiny zap when you are like static and stuff." he frowns and looks at the air "Though i don't know how that will be once that gets worse..."

Cross frowns as he follows Killer's sight. Cross can admit he is also worried. if this gets much worse it can spell very bad news.. not to forget that it has never been this bad before... Is this just what happened if they don't help him remember to discharge in time? Is Dust even okay with this much pressure and magic going on?

Cross frowns as he hands Nightmare to Horror "You guys stay here. Help Crop with the kitchen and keep Ngihtmare safe." just in case.

Ngihtmare glares as he is put down "I am safe!"

Cross nods and stares at Killer and Horror "I am going to go to help and try to get him to calm down and discharge safely." a spar usually works best.

Horror frowns as he shakes his skull "I will just come back if it goes wrong."

Cross shoots him a look "I got better stats and have the endurance to keep dodging to get through the worst. Killer has a straight up bullseye by his sternum and he annoyed Dust already. YOu may come back but do you really want to do that to Dust?" Horror frowns but nods his agreement. Cross nods himself "just keep an eye on Nightmare and-"

"See? Perfectly safe."

They all turn only to stare. Becuase Nightmare is just standing off of the porch. in the middle of the static. But nothing happens. the static follows along his body but never zaps him. Nightmare looks unamused "I will go to dusty and fix this."

Cross shakes his skull as he gets off the porch. Fuck the zapping is almost constant. He gets ot Nightmare and picking him up gives him a much much much larger and slightly painful zap. Cross breaths through it "No. You are going to stay here and wait. This is our mess so we will fix it ourselves." he nuzzles the small skull "We got this."

Nightmare looks unhappy to doesn't fight being handing back to Horror, Horror flinches at the zap but takes it in stride.

Cross nods to the others and goes into the direction of the large vortex of clouds.

The zapping is honestly just annoying. It helps that Cross can see none of his HP dropping even as he gets closer and closer.

He ends up finding Dust in the wheat field, well in a circle of completely vaporized wheat. the current and magic having turned the plants and part of the ground into ash. Dust just stands there. muttering as crackles of lighting go all along his body.

Cross gulps before stealing himself "Hey Dust!"

Dust freezes. Okay! Good news! Dust can still hear him! not too far gone!

Cross smiles and feels a bit braver "sorry we didn't realise... want to spar? Blow off a bit of steam?"

Dust tilts his skull but nothing. okay wait! Cross knows what this means!

Cross speaks louder "don't listen to whatever he says!" Dust doesn't react. Cross takes a step closer "please. whatever he says it isn't true or real oaky? Or at least not the full truth and-"

Dust chuckles and stares at him "What? Think i ened fucking protection from him?"

Cross blinks and opens and clsoes his mouth. Not sure what to say "I... euh... maybe?" is this a trick question?

Dust looks displeased by his answer. That is fair Cross couldn't commit to either answer. Dust huffs "Don't fucking bother. I am fine."

Cross frowns and feels braver again. No time for self doubt. Dust needs his help. Cross steps clsoer "You aren't fine."

Dust glares back at him "I am fine!" crackles and the ring of vaporized wheat grows bigger. Oh man Cross hopes Crop won't lose too much money thanks to that.

Cross gulps but keeps going closer "It is okay Dust... If it hurts i can heal you!" his healing is weak but he can still heal! "We just need to get you to use some magic and-"

Dust snaps "You want to see fucking magic!" and it crackles loudly as a snap of lightning crashed just by Dust's feet. Cross yelps and feels afraid it did damage but Dust seems fine even as the energy from the lightning travels through the ground. A loud whine of magic nad Cross sees an overgrown blaster right by Dust's shoulder.

Dust hisses "leave. me. alone."

The blaster blasts and Cross dodges. After the dodge Cross actually feels reassured.

You see?

If Dust wants to hit you. He will hit you. The fact he gave Cross enough time to get ready to dodge and didn't change the direction of the beam to still hit him gives Cross hope.

Cross glares back "I am not leaving." not again. He is not giving up on them again.

Dust glares as more blasters appear "You think I won't do it?! You think I am fucking weak?!"

...Weak?

Cross blinks "No? You are like one of the strongest mosnters I know..." Cross has seen Dust fight Ink 1v1 and win. Dust weak? Why would he ever think that? Who would ever think that?

Dust laughs and more crackles in the air as the static grows. Dust's face becomes visible and he smiles sharply at him "That is quite a different answer than you gave before!"

before? When?! Cross never said Dust was weak!

Cross doesn't really have a chance to dodge. Because even if Dust gives him time to see the attacks coming Cross sitll has to dodge them himself.

Dust growls as he charges more attacks "Helpless? Weak? Useless? come on! You can tell me! I already figured it out anyway! With the endless hovering and shadowing!" another blast.

It clicks.

They are fucking idiots!

Cross looks at him panicked "It is just an backstory!" Dust had said no. They still pushed and he had been unhappy wiht it.

They thought it was fine.

But then again. It isn't Cross who has to deal with it with every interaction he has...

Shit. They are assholes.

Cross barely dodges another blast and Dust frowns a tiny bit. He pulls his arm a bit back and a few blasters hold their fire "Well?! Still weak?! Still useless!?"

Cross needs to do something.

And well, the answer is obvious.

Cross gets ready for his sprint. He needs all the speed he can get. Dust sees him hold his own run and rolls his eye lights before shooting at him with a sneer on his face.

Cross runs straight at Dust, straight at the blast. Dust's sockets and eye lights widen and he has to pull hard at his own magic. the air crackles angerly as the blast changes directions just before it hits Cross.

Cross gets right up into Dust's personal space and locks his arms around the other.

Dust snarls and tries to free himself but Cross has more physical strenght than he has and Cross has a good hold on him with locking his arms to his side.

Dust screams and wiggles "Let me go!"

Cross shakes his skull and pushes close to the other "No. I am not letting go of you." not of you. not of nightmare. not of the others. No. He isn't letting go.

Struggling and more screaming. Blasters going off but without his arms he can't aim them right. Dust goes as far as trying to kick, scratch and even bite him but Cross just keeps holding on. Refusing to give up or give in.

The storm around them calms slowly and eventually Dust goes lax in his arms. still some uneasy crackles far above them but the vortex disappeared and the clouds turned more of a dark grey colour.

It starts to rain and this is when Cross thinks it would be safe to let him go. Not that he does. Cross keeps holding on.

Dust isjust lax in his hold. Not saying a word and Cross doens't even know how to say what he wants to say. That he is sorry for pushing. For not helping Dust think of a new plan. So being so okay with Dust having had to carry most of the burding concerning their back story. and later more responsiblity about money. and before that even with taking care of nightmare. All wihtout Cross even trying to help him.

Cross had just... liked the idea of the backstory. That Dust came to them for help, that Cross had a bit of the savior role in the story... Just like he had enjoyed the idea of some people thinking he and dust had a kid together. Just like he enjoys the idea that everyone knows the four of them are an unit and won't separate... Cross is a jerk.

He still isn't sure what to say "... We can probably change the backstory still..." Instead he just talks.

Dust just sounds tired "We can't..."

Cross shakes his skull and just tightens his hold "No we totally can!" think think think "We... we... we can just be that... that i was the one with the ex! But that i hadn't been sure about a kid... and so i just left but regretted it and found out about the bad stuff..." he is just rambling "So i went back and got you guys for help but nightmare had been so young so he didn't remember me and i was still weird about being a father but you were great at it so you and nightmare bonded and so we just kinda told him it was you and... and..." Cross doesn't know. he is stuck and can't think.

Dust snorts against his shoulder "People will hate that... they won't trust us in anyway if they 'found out' we lied..."

Cross gulps and knows he is right. still... "I am sorry... I should have told killer to stuff it when he oppered."

Dust shrugs "Could have done that myself..."

They continue to sit there in the rain. Cross trying to think of some way to fix this mess.

Dust sighs "It is fine... just... stupid... got the best of me... won't happen again."

Cross feels even worse "I am sorry..."

Dust tries to pull back, probably to shoot him a look of some kind but Cross just keeps holding him tighter. No. Not letting go.

Dust sighs and gives in rather easily "I know why... it is fine..."

Cross shakes his skull "you are overworked... and we were to dumb to see."

Dust lets out an annoyed sigh again "I don't need a babysitter. I should be able to take care of myself just fine cross."

Cross feels tears appear but pusehs them back "It isn't being a babysitter you moron! It is about being friends and looking out for one another and not being a dumb idiot to forget one of your friends also needs help!"

silence.

Cross just keeps going "We shouldn't have pushed the backstory. WHen you said no we should ahve just accepted that! You were uncomfortable wiht that plan. YOu are still uncomfortable wiht it. it isn't fair that we kept pushing and you had to brun for it."

Cross feels himself start to ramble and he doesn't bother to stop it "And then the tinkering! You like that and that is great but that doesn't mean it should be a must or have the pressure of being our solo income! You are overworked and tired and need rest and i don't want to hear any comment or self hating joke about you being lazy!"

Dust huffs and mutters "kill joy" but stays quiet otherwise.

Cross keeps going as if he didn't interrupt him "You are also the one who takes charge with Nightmare and that is fine as well as long as you don't have all the pressure! It is unfair of us to just assume you will decide or have the decision or even that you thought about it! Even if you do have the answers and you did think about it it isn't fair that we put that expectation and pressure on you! We are a team and we should share the burden of stuff!"

Cross pants as he just sits there. feeling partly mortified by what he just said and partly relieved he managed to get it all out.

Dust is quiet for a long time before answering "I don't mind it..." it is hardly more than a whisper.

Cross huffs and just keeps holding it "Even if you don't mind it now clearly it is too much or we wouldn't be sitting in a circle of vaporized plants."

Dust is silent but does give a small nod against his shoulder.

Cross nods himself "When you feel okayish. we will go back to the others. you are going to get cleaned up and sleep. actually sleep. and sleep in. No more trying to get up early wiht Nightmare."

Dust mutters "I sleep in..."

Cross huffs "Yeah. until like 8 or 9 compared to the 5 and 6 of Horror and me. But I mean you need to sleep sleep Dust. Sleep in untill at least 10. Don't even think I won't get Horror or Killer to tie you down to the bed!" Dust is almost always up until late at night. he needs rest clearly.

Dust snorts and mutters "Don't let Killer hear you say that. He will have many things to say about that implication about your preferences."

Oh god no brain don't think about that mental image when Dust is stuck in your arms. You don't want to have that type of conversation now when that image does things to you!

Cross feels himself blush as he stares striaght ahead "Very funny."

Dust snorts "I know."

Cross huffs before spekaing again "Well then! You are going to sleep in and get the rest you actually need. We are no longer going to allow you to plan your days full like you did before anymore."

Dust groans "Cross we still need money."

Cross nods "and so we will figure something out eventually! But you are no longer trying to earn enough for everyone. And please for the love of everything actually buy something nice for yourself for once!" so far he had only spend money on stuff for Nightmare. or clothes for any of them. Cross appreciates the clean clothes and things but please Dust just get stuff for yourself.

Dust mutters and mumbles some stuff but nothing that Cross can really make heads or tails from "Good! Now that we agreed to that... Ready to go back?"

Dust is quiet again but sighs "Yeah.... need to apologise to Killer for attacking him... and crop for probably breaking part of his house..."

Cross nods "Yeah... Good news though Killer didn't have actual HP damage so i think even when mad you were pretty controlled over what you actually wanted, which was just Killer to shut up I guess... as for Crop's house I only saw some cracks and Horror and I can do enough construction stuff to fix that." a moment of silence "Also Killer owns you an apology for annoying you the whole day."

Dust listens before sighing "Thanks..."

They sit a moment longer before they both get up. Cross can't help his curiosity as he sticks his phalanges into the lose sand.

Dust frowns at him "What are you doing?"

Cross looks away embarresed "Heard that... if lightning strikes sand like glass is made... I am curious..." he feels something but can't pull it out. Instead he pushes more sand and dirt aside and uncovers a giant glass electric strike in the ground. he can see how the electricity move and made the glass.

Dust frowns at it "Hopefully I didn't ruin his field... Will have to dig that out and any other stuff to make sure it doesn't damage his machinery when he does farming stuff." Dust already sounds tired as he looks around his large circle were Cross cna see multiple hits of lightning hit the ground.

Cross pats his back "It is fine. Horror and I got a lot of free time so we will get to that tomorrow."

Dust looks at him before sighing and nodding "fine."

Cross nods.

The two walk back as Cross looks at the sky "It is clearing... I didn't know you could do the whole sky thing..."

Dust shrugs "never did that before."

huh. Cross keeps looking up "Think it was because you have more charge or something?"

Dust shrugs "Could be..."

Cross nods as he taps his chin "We will need to make sure you don't overcharge faster than..."

Dust is quiet but Cross feels Dust nudge his shoulder. Cross beams at him and Dust shoots him a small smile back.

They near the house and find their other three boys waiting on the porch. Dust goes straight to nightmare nad hugs him before looking at Horror and Killer for just amoment before looking down "sorry... I.... sorry."

Horror smiles bakc and nods. Killer grins himself and shrugs "Euh. It is fine. Sorry to you for once again not picking up on your social clues." he rubs his cheek which has a large bruise "No hard feelings."

Dust nods and agrees easily enough.

After apologizing to Crop for the mess in both the kitchen and field and promising to fix it they get back to their attic. They take a moment to sit together and Cross explains what the deal had been about. Mostly because dust had retreated to hoody-city while hugging Nightmare and was refusing to admit himself what was wrong.

Killer and Horror both look deeply unhappy with this newly gotten information and looka t Dust. Dust manages to somehow look even further away as he mutters "Cross makes it sound worse than it is."

Cross glares. Rude! Because he actually thinks he is underselling the issue!

Killer must come to the same conclusion as he wiggles around until he is laying right up against Dust's side and looks at him begging "You know that I know you are like the strongest monster ever right? Like it is obvious. We all know that? You know that right?"

Dust shrugs and nods but Corss has his doubts. Seeing as he didn't seem to beleive so just moments ago. Killer pouts and has his scheming face on.

Cross sighs "Either way... we need to balance the work load better." he shoots Nightmare a look "You aren't allowed to share the load as you are a child and no child labor."

Ngihtmare huffs and crosses his arms "I can help"

Killer nods "You help by staying safe nad being a good babybones!" Nightamre grumbles even more and pushes closer to Dust.

Horror hums and nods "We will... need to calm down... Taking it easy with townvisits." he shoots Dust a look "Only when it is relaly necessary."

Dust huffs and mutters "Still need cash."

Horror nods "We will figure that out later. First taking things calmly. step by step."

Cross nods as he sees Dust relax a bit. Step by step. They can do this. They got each other and everything will be fine.

*---------------*

First Drabble here Prev Drabble here Next Drabble here

[starry-sophrosyne]

Just.

a WOTC spinoff au where Sophist doesn't get banished but Bertrand still joins the rebellion (as/becomes the leader now, maybe for a diff reason like he got suspected instead of sophist for killing his father or something idk-) and Brent is forced to marry Cherie anyways, while he can only watch/help him prepare for his wedding as his best man (around the same time as WOTC, maybe Brent delayed marrying anyone for a few years due to the unstability of the kingdom after Bertrand left and his dad died)

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i might write somewhat of a full version of this as a drabble but i would need to read up on versions of this writing prompt (i need ideas bc motivation for this drabble idea is lowkey low) but GOD the amount of things that would go UNSAID. In this universe, he gently pushes his friend towards the ballroom again, only without a lingering feeling on both of their lips. Because how could he? Right before he was about to get married, and unaware of his true feelings for him too? No, instead, without realizing it, he tears up:

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"Never thought you'd cry at my wedding." — Brent's eyes widened in shock, a look comprised of genuine surprise and concern on his face just as Sophist realized the tears trembling in his waterline. Trying to play it off, he hoped his dear friend would take it as a moment of emotional vulnerability in opposition of what he currently felt.

"Oh, shut up! Am I not allowed to care about you for once? God, you asshole, of course I do! Why wouldn't I? I'm just.. really glad to see you so happy." — He rambled, ripping his glasses off his face with more emotion than he would've liked. Swiping the glassiness of his eyes onto his cheeks, he tried to force a painful smile, but still. He stiffened as Brent gave him something of a somber smile, heart cracking with every second that ticked by. Reasoning and rationality threatened to be swallowed up by his turbulent emotions, even as he gripped his hands together so hard they shook, because why? Why were they put through this? Was it unlucky fate that disdained them, or maybe.. Maybe it was just him. If that was all, then how could he ever be mad or guilty? He didn't deserve this, but he didn't deserve him either, and if Brent truly didn't feel anything for him at all, then he could never ruin his happiest moment. But even still.

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Please, he thought, as he bit his lip so hard he thought it'd bleed, don't walk back to me. Don't give me a reason to make a bad decision.

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"Yeah.." — The room went silent, replaced with wavering smiles and palpable tension. What would he even say at this moment? This was his finality, his never-turning-back.

"Go get em buddy, knock her dead with your dressed up looks!."

"Oh shut up the fuck up." — He laughed once more, but even as he turned around and gripped the door knob, he wanted to stop. Ever fiber of him wanted to turn around, run towards him. Embrace him, kiss him, run away with him; but he couldn't. Not because he didn't want to, but because he simply, couldn't. Too much depended on this marriage. His mother was relying on him, his kingdom was relying on him, Cherie was relying on him. His mother had lost too much, his kingdom had too much to loose, and Cherie was a woman that could bring them the power to end it all; But even still.

Taking a deep breath, he grit and ground his teeth so hard he thought they'd crack. And then, he turned to look back at him once more. And oh, he looked wonderful. His purple brocade vest was embroidered with violet, donning a lacy ruffled cravat as were the cuffs of his sleeves. His pants slim fit and tailored, he looked just like a regular noble, except for his signature mask, which was similarly styled to match his clothing; though his traditional jacket and hat were absconded for the event. Even still, he was perfect, and he wasn't his.

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His eyes lingered just a bit too long, just enough for his hardened heart to crack as his eyes revealed everything he'd wished to hide, unsafe from his best friend's astute observations.

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He swore he saw Sophist's expression change, eyes breaking open into a pool of glassy sorrow, but instead, they closed as he offered Brent an encouraging smile. They squinted back open just slightly but teasingly; a playful gaze that taunted him: "Cold feet, gonna chicken out?" He could practically hear his irritating voice, nagging him in an oh so familiar and lovely way. It helped, as he chuckled and his heart settled just a bit, but even still, he takes a deep breath. He's walking away from what, no, who he loves, but.. as long as he can remain by his side..

It's just enough for him to take the leap forward, as he twists the door knob with a conviction; but even as the light shines on his face and the ballroom explodes with noise, his heart cant help but sink.

[good-beanswrites]

If you're still taking requests, could I ask for Futa finding our that Yuno was lying about getting beaten up in her first interrogation?

You sure can 👀👀👀👀 Omg, I'm a fake 02-03 fan, how have I never thought about that moment before? I assumed he'd know eventually, but for someone who's so honest (and likely already has issues with a disloyal friend group) an actual confession would be so painful... Thank you so much for the request, it reminded me how much I loved writing these two ;--;

“I can’t believe it!” Fuuta laid across Yuno’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I can’t fucking believe it!”

“Ooh~ is this about Shidou-san?” Yuno stepped out of a pair of shoes, grabbing another. She walked back and forth with accessories she’d requested or borrowed from the others. After scrutinizing them in the mirror, she’d try on something else. 

“Of course it is! Why aren’t you freaking out about this?”

It was a rhetorical question, she knew. This was one of those times Fuuta wasn’t really listening to anything except the rant in his own head. It could be annoying, but between him and Mahiru, Yuno actually enjoyed the chance to sit back and let someone else take over the conversation. 

“He comes out of his interrogation, casually laughing about the warden being young and kicking him, then expects us to be okay with it? That makes four out of five interrogations someone got hurt! It’s a good thing I showed them they can’t fuck with someone like me, eh? But a pushover like Shidou gets abused and laughs! Argh!” 

Fuuta sat up suddenly, trying to find somewhere to put his anger. He caught Yuno’s eye through the mirror. “There’s no way this is legal, locking us up with some violence-crazed warden! You know what I just keep thinking about, every day?”

Yuno gave a small “hm?” knowing he’d tell her anyway. She turned her eyes away, pretending to fix the ribbon in her hair. It was becoming less and less enjoyable to sit back and let him talk, this time. She was starting to see where this conversation would end. She knew what she needed to do.

“I just keep thinking, what are we going to do about Mahiru?”

“What do you mean?”

She was met with a dumbfounded look. 

“We can’t just let her go in there by herself! Haruka and Shidou have some size and strength on Es, so like a coward they only showed a bit of force. But they know you and Muu were much smaller and weaker, so they really took it out on you both. I mean, I could hear Muu crying during her interrogation, and she came out still sniffling. Whatever the hell happened, it can’t be good. Just think of what’ll happen to Mahiru if we leave her alone in there! I’ve started thinking about what we can do.”

She laughed, picking up a headband. “Fuuta, you can’t do anything. It’s not like you’d be able to break in during the interrogation. I’m sure Mahiru-san will be just fine.”

“You can’t be sure, in a place like this. I’ve been thinking about this! I was even talking to Kotoko, and we think it’s possible to sneak in beforehand.”

“And if you get caught? What if you get Mahiru-san in more trouble?”

It was all she could think to say. She knew the truth had to come out eventually, but if there was a chance she could calm Fuuta down and avoid a fight altogether, she’d take it. Yuno wasn’t afraid of him. However, just because he was all bark and no bite didn’t make his bite any easier to handle. If she was putting the pieces together correctly, it still did end up killing someone…

Instead of slowing down, his face lit up with even more intensity. He leapt to his feet, appearing behind Yuno in the mirror. “See, that’s where my backup plan comes in! We’ll get the others involved. An interrogation will be the perfect time to stage a riot because –”

“Oh, Fuuta.”

“– I mean it! How are they and that stupid rabbit going to stop all of us, huh? It’s high time we stood up to this injustice! Give that brat a taste of their own medicine –”

“Just, listen for a second.”

“– We won’t use any violence or anything! Unlike them, we’re above that. Just give them a good scare, and demand that they –”

“Fuuta.”

“What?” He sounded exasperated, but paused to let her speak. She hadn’t raised her voice; he was learning to tell when she was serious.

“There’s... something I need to tell you.” Her tone made it clear that this would be a pretty weighty confession. Annoyance flashed across his face, like is now really the time for this? 

Yuno turned to face him. She reached for his hands, knowing the wonders a bit of physical contact can do. Fuuta just rolled his eyes as he tore his hands away. She was constantly reminded that her usual tricks didn’t work on him. She also reminded herself, however, that it was a relief. She didn’t feel like holding hands now.

“I… I wasn’t honest about my interrogation. Es didn’t touch me. They were actually really calm, and we had a good conversation. They didn’t want the others to hear that and just walk all over them, so I promised to tell the story they came up with. I heard Muu talking, and she didn’t face any violence either. She was just scared.”

“You – she – what?” Fuuta sputtered on his words. His face turned a few shades redder than it already had been in his excitement.

“The lie wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, or drag out this long. Definitely not to the point of inspiring a prison riot, oh god. I felt bad that you even went after Es because of it–”

“Yeah!” His voice rose. “I stood up to them for you! I coulda gotten punished for that!”

“No, Es knew why you did it, so I’m sure they never would have –”

“You can’t be sure!” He turned to pace the cell, emotion leaking out in sudden pitches in his voice, or a hand jerking up in wild gestures. “So when were you planning on telling me? Or were you just going to lie to my face for another few months?”  She could see the gears turning in his head – all the arguments and comebacks and insults he was formulating. “And what else have you been lying to me about?” 

That’s when she noticed that the look in his eyes wasn’t one of rage. Nor was the blood in his cheeks. Though he was indeed angry, he was also dealing with the embarrassing truth of being lied to for months.

“I haven’t lied about anything else,” she assured him. She bowed her head. “And I won’t. I’m so sorry. It was supposed to be something quick that everyone forgot about. Once they had their interrogation and had their own impression of the warden, no one would think about it.”

“You expect me to believe a shitty excuse like that? Why would we all just forget?”

“Fuuta…” She smiled sadly. “Everyone did forget. You’re the only one who still talks about it. You’re the only one who’s done anything in response. I felt so guilty you’d put yourself out like that, for me, someone you barely met.” 

Yuno paused. She hadn’t meant to use any flattery to steer the conversation. She was supposed to just tell him the truth and leave it at that.

But this wasn’t flattery. She was still speaking the truth. “Everyone else did exactly what I expected, except you. You stood up for me. I don’t take that lightly, okay? I’m grateful.”

Fuuta’s eyes burned with more fury. He jabbed a pointing finger at her.

“You’re right!” 

“...eh?”

“Those bastards didn’t do a single thing! They heard a young girl got abused and they just let it happen? They tried laughing it off? How dare they!” He whirled around. “Oh, I’m gonna give them a –”

Yuno grabbed the back of his uniform “You aren’t going to do anything. If you get everyone riled up now, it’ll be for nothing, remember? But you can’t tell. I still promised Es I’d keep their secret through the first trial.”

“Tch, you don’t owe them shit.”

“If you tell, you’ll get me in trouble. Please.” She let go of him. “Can I trust you with this?”

He kept his back to her. “You didn’t before.”

“You’re right.” She wasn’t the type to waffle around with excuses.

She started putting away her things. It was almost mealtime, and she didn’t have the heart to continue, anyway. Through the mirror, she watched Fuuta hang around the doorway. His expression shifted through emotions that Yuno couldn’t quite put her finger on. All his fire was fizzling out.

“Just… you swear it won’t happen again?” 

“I swear.”

Fuuta nodded. Then, a grin. “And you swear I can tell them off after this trial ends?”

She returned the smirk. “One promise at a time, ’kay?”

[irondad-defensesquad]

“Hey, Mr. Stark.”

Tony has actually been waiting at the door this whole time. He smiles and approaches Peter.

… And Tony hugs him.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Not that it’s that much of a surprise, honestly. Tony has hugged Peter before, albeit quickly. It’s never taken more than ten seconds.

Peter sighs. “Please don’t tell me Happy told you about me bombing my quiz.”

Tony rubs his back in response instead.

Peter rejects it and releases himself from the hug. He throws his backpack to the floor and sits on the couch in defeat.

“I don’t even know how I bombed it,” the boy vents. “I actually studied hard and- and read the book, which wasn’t that hard to read, and somehow I got the worst grade in my class.”

“English quiz?”

“Yeah. I didn’t freeze at the time and my mind didn’t go blank. I didn’t think I’d ace it, but I thought I would go well. I have no idea how I screwed up this badly.”

“Did you talk to your teacher?”

“No, ‘cause he only handed our quizzes at the end of class. I also didn’t want anyone to find out about my grade. I know Flash would mock me in front of everyone.”

Tony frowns at the mention of the bully. He sits on the couch next to Peter.

“Try talking to your teacher in his next class,” the former suggests.

“I will, it’s just… I’m so mad. A-And I’m not even mad at him. Why else would I get such a bad grade?”

“Peter…”

The teen sniffs, hiding his teary eyes. “I don’t understand, I’m trying hard to manage my school time and Spider-Man, how did I mess up like this?”

Tony sighs, opening an arm. “Come here.”

Peter then lies against him and sobs, letting his mentor hug him.

“W-Why aren’t you… mad at me, too?” Peter wonders.

It hurts Tony to hear how much he expected him to be angry.

“Why would I be?” Tony questions.

“‘Cause you care about school?”

“I care about you more. Not your grades.”

Peter looks so surprised…

“I know how it’s like to try your hardest and then you get negative feedback,” Tony tells him. “You feel like a huge screw-up. You can’t understand why or how you failed. But that doesn’t mean you’re a failure.”

The boy gazes at him, as though he’s surprised to hear that Tony Stark must have felt like a failure. Or probably still feels that way. Even if Peter and Tony have gotten closer, and Peter knows a lot more about his hero, he definitely idolizes Tony and that knowledge might fly past his head sometimes.

“It definitely sucks, kid. You have the right to be sad about it. Just try not to beat yourself too much, okay?” Tony reminds him. “I know you’re doing great. That bad grade won’t erase your efforts.”

Peter, as if coming to understand it, snuggles against Tony. He still cries but he is breathing in and out slowly, calming down.

Tony just holds him for as long as he needs.

It sort of reminds the man of when his bad grades tormented him as a kid.

Howard never cared about his good grades. But when he had bad ones, it convinced Howard that Tony was a fraud.

Several times back then, Tony considered giving up entirely.

Jarvis, however, took all the crumbled pieces of paper and thrown away projects and encouraged Tony to keep trying.

Then Rhodey was his partner in MIT, also pushing Tony to keep working, because he’s the most determined person Rhodey has known.

Of course, Tony knows he’s not made of iron. Sometimes he’ll be defeated. Sometimes his best might not be enough. He takes some time to get back up.

So he respects his time until he strikes back again.

Peter just needs this.

Like Tony once needed and might still need.

When he sees how calm Peter is now, even if he must be feeling pain, Tony pulls away a little to smile at him.

“I’m proud of you, Peter.”

The teen doesn’t know how to react at first. Then he smiles back and looks away in nervousness.

“You want some ice cream?” Tony suggests. “Just bought more today.”

Peter smirks. “Okay.”

As he eats the ice cream, the sadness prevails in Peter’s eyes. He appreciates and enjoys the gesture, though.

In the lab, Peter is staring at a piece of paper.

He puts it back in his backpack and tries to do the other homework he needs to finish.

“Hey, if you need any help, just let me know,” Tony says.

“Okay.”

“Just do what you can right now, alright? If you can’t do all of it, that’s perfectly fine.”

“Oh, this is easy, actually. But thanks, Mr. Stark,” Peter grins at him and returns to his homework.

Tony watches him for a while, and his smile widens.

He really is proud of Peter. So proud.

[captainseamech]

             There was aggressive knocking at Mayor Luskey’s door, almost breaking it and seemingly impatient too. It was way past midnight, clocking around 4am even, of course the man would be upset to be awaken from his sleep. Grabbing the toupée and wearing only the top part of his suit over his pajamas, the man headed outside his home, prepared to scream at whoever dared to wake him up in such a trivial hour...

             Only to find that the perpetrator of such ‘crime’ was none other than High Tide himself, standing just outside in road with thick steam billowing from the corners of his mouth. Oh, he was not happy, and the mayor very quickly realized that with a yelp and shrinking his shoulders as the green light of the mech’s optics beamed over his round figure.

             “O-Oh! I-It’s you! Uh, High Tide, right?” The man trembled in fear and forced his body to approach the fence surrounding his house, giving a nervous wave with an equally nervous chuckle. “To what do I owe you the—”

             “Don’t try to be buddy buddy with me now, Luskey.” High Tide quickly interrupted with a snarl, holding back the urge to be aggressive as much as he could. “I try to do my best to stay out of yer business and always fetch ya yer precious little yachts every time ye sink one. And what do I get in return? Well, ye should guarantee that Heatwave and the rest o the team doesn’t get in serious danger.”

             “Now I object to that!” Luskey pointed a finger at the mech, immediately regretting his action when a growl was heard. “I-I mean, yes I am aware of our deal and I’m doing just what we have discussed prior! You make sure my yachts are always in perfect condition when you retrieve them and I protect the Burns family with the bots too. All is good according to those terms, right?”

             “WRONG!” The sea mech practically roared in response, the steam now escaping from his shoulder and face pipes while getting even thicker. “Not only ye failed to ‘protect’ Heatwave like ye just implied, but ye brought inexperienced people to yer stupid fireworks show, which led to utter disaster!” The cluelesness of the mayor made High Tide disapprovingly click his glossa behind his dentae. “Ye have no idea of what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, do ya? Well, how about ye pay more attention to that stupid reporter instead of sleepin’ and take a look at this?!”

             Opening a temporary screen with the glass of his chest plate, High Tide repeated the broadcast given by Huxley and even dared to show Heatwave’s condition from his point of view. The mayor seemed uninterested and slightly concerned at first — of course he would — until the screen changed for a second time to showcase High Tide’s view of the situation, which made him show relief. “Oh thank goodness the pyrotechnics crew are okay and mostly unharmed!”

             Wrong set of words, buddy. Even his wife, who was spying them both from the door in her robes, quietly facepalmed at her husband’s sentence.

             “Oh really? So what you are sayin’ is that you’re not a little bit concerned about Heatwave’s safety and wouldn’t mind if he died as long as your little precious crew was alive and well?!” The man gesticulated as in an attempt to rephrase himself better, but the mech quickly cut that short. “Nah ah ah! Don’t try and lie to me, yer first impression already said everything that I needed to hear.”

             “Now ye listen ‘ere, ye scummy scallywag.” High Tide towered over the mayor and pointed a digit at him, his shadow practically taking over the scenario. “Ye may care less about the bots, but they try their best to make sure yer citizens are all alive and well, especially Heatwave as he’s always in the front lines guidin’ the team. Now thanks to yer lack of care, he’s temporarily out of commission, which means I will be snoopin’ in yer business whether ye like it or not.”

             There was a pause as High Tide leaned in dangerously close to the mayor, green hues ominously washing over the human as he trembled in fear while hugging his toupee for dear life. “And since I’m currently in charge, here’s what I have to say: Stop hiring hatchlings to take over dangerous situations like this one. Stop callin’ people ye don’t know from Maine to delay our efficiency with rescues. Maybe if ye stop spendin’ yer money on a new yacht or useless project that will endanger the whole island, none of this would’ve happened since ye would use that money to hire capable professionals. Am I clear?”

             Mayor Luskey gulped. “W-Well I—”

             “Am I clear, M̸a̶y̶o̴r̷ ̴L̷u̶s̸k̷e̴y̷?” He interrupted with static in his voice and a threatening snarl, causing the man to shriek in fear and quickly nodding his head multiple times. “Good. I expect ye to send a proper apology letter to Heatwave after tonight’s absolute catastrophe.” Getting up to his pedes, High Tide turned and went his path back to the firehouse, heavy pede falls following him through.

             What a way to start the year.

[luvuomi]

goodness i have never felt so seen by a character .. i think im going to enjoy this show a lot ^w^

[raitrolling]

my brain is still percolating the forensic pathologist/cosplayer idea...

tho i had an idea for the way they look and i was like. hm what if they had a kinda messyish fringe with long strands on the sides and one of those tiny fluffy high ponytails. maybe they should wear a long white coat as well- goddammit fuck thats just glasya again. shit.

[jayparked]

no fake texts today 💛 my schedule at work changed so my posting schedule will change too! still figuring it out but i’ll post something tomorrow for sure 😼

[gravesung-moving]

It’s midnight, and Keon is still in the music room. He plinks away at the piano keys in a steady, mournful melody, but his thoughts are far away from the instrument. 

When a knock sounds at the door, he doesn’t stop playing. He pretends he doesn’t hear it. Everyone who lives here knows that when Keon is in the music room, he is not to be bothered, and if it were an emergency, he knows his housemates would simply barge in or call his name. They’ve all established their boundaries well enough by now, thank goodness, and he has no intention of conversing with anyone until the melancholy has left him. He is the patriarch of this found family — they cannot see him weak.

The knock comes again. It isn’t insistent; it isn’t loud. Keon’s hands lift from the keys, an irritated vein twitching in his temple, as someone walks in without any invitation at all. Even before he steps into the room, Keon knows who he is by the smell alone: brine, sea wind, gravedirt. 

Peter Lukas stands by the door and gives Keon a smile that holds very little depth. A customer service smile. A distant smile, like a lighthouse so far in the distance you can barely make it out through the mist. Keon avoids shooting back a glare. Lukas was one of the few members of the company board that stuck with him after his father died, rather than jumping ship in anticipation of stocks crashing. His assistance, unfortunately, has been invaluable, and he has never once been unpleasant, in all of Keon’s years working with his father and the company.

That being said, he never got a key to the house. Somehow, that doesn’t matter to Keon in the moment. 

“Mr. Lukas,” he says, standing from his seat. Lukas waves a dismissing hand, gives him a chuckle. 

“Peter, please, Keon. It’s been some time. How have you been? Bad, I assume.”

“Bad,” echoes Keon, dryly. “Well, somethings never change. You certainly know how to cut to the chase.”

“I think you know as well as I do that pleasantries are all well and good, until you don’t need them anymore.” His chipper London-accented voice does nothing to cut through the silence. Paradoxically, Lukas being in the room with him makes him feel more isolated than being alone. The voices from downstairs have completely vanished; a wisp of fog rolls under the music room door.

Perhaps everyone is out together. Keon looks down at his hands where they hover over the keys. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Mr. Lukas? Everything alright with the company?”

“Everything’s fine. Personal call, I’m afraid.”

“Really. What could possibly —“

“You know you’re hurting them?” No downturn in his upbeat, matter-of-fact tone, like he’s recommending a nice bar for after-work drinks. 

Keon starts. His eyes fly up to meet Lukas’s, then immediately turn away, because the man’s gaze is iceberg blue, and looking into them puts Keon in the open ocean with no land in sight. He tries to shake off the chill, but it clings to his arms, clings in gray wisps and misty tendrils. Fog around his feet, around the piano, pooling over the marble floor. 

The strangeness of the situation does not occur to him. What does, immediately, is the answer to the question. “Yes,” he murmurs. 

“I assume you plan on doing something about it. You’ve always been one to act, haven’t you, Keon?”

“I—“ His words catch. Keon lowers the piano lid. 

“Your family is gone. You’ve created quite the gaggle of a new one, though. And then, one by one, they started to get hurt. The common denominator really isn’t hard to figure out.”

Naya’s screams, echoing through the portal, finding him in his half-dreamstate as she writhed from a burn by his hand. Fahey’s screams, too, as a virus burned them from the inside out. Casimir, cowering and alone in the basement, because of his father, because of him. The ritual: every injury Naya and the others suffered, every mote of agony they’ve endured because of him, because of him. Because they cared. 

“Yes,” Peter says. “It’s rather too late to fix any of that, I’m afraid. But you can easily prevent any more of it.”

“They need me.“ He responds too fast. His voice is desperate, even to his own ears.

“Do they?”

“We’ve come so far —“

“To do what, Keon?” Peter’s voice remains calm, steady. Just friendly enough. “Now, I’m only viewing the facts of the situation and guiding you toward a rational judgement. I know you appreciate that. Here — a visual, if it helps.” 

There’s a hand on his shoulder, cold, firm. It isn’t the hand of another person. Keon closes his eyes and sees Baz and Naya sitting in the library, laughing over a book that amuses them. He sees Fahey lope in and drape their arms over the back of Naya’s chair, Brekker stretch out his bad knee by the fire. He sees Pashar, perusing the shelves, chatting idly with the others. He isn’t there, and it’s better. The scene dissolves. A yawning cavern in the catacombs builds itself around him, the faceless members of Vox Obscura surrounding Keon with knives and magic and guns. He stands alone, but he knows he can fight them — or, at least, he can give it a good try. The scene dissolves again. Keon is back in the music room now, and he hears faint voices echoing very, very far away, as if the house is three times as big and his friends are on the other end. “It’s easy,” Lukas says, removing his hand from Keon’s shoulder, “in a house this massive. Keeping them safe shouldn’t be much of an issue, now, should it? You did it for two years. All you need to do is remember yourself, pick up the slack. Follow the fog, if it helps. Should provide some assistance.”

Keon turns his head downwards, only slightly, so that the sliver of his cheekbone is visible to Lukas. “You… whatever you are, Lukas. Can you promise me it will help them?”

The old man shrugs. Muffled sunlight catches his stark-white beard. “Is a promise really going to change your mind one way or another? I can promise to make it a bit easier to keep it up, if they get a bit too inquisitive. If that’s any help.”

Keon says nothing, his eyes trailing to the corner that the Collector disrupted during their last visit: Kimber’s things, covered in dust, her crayons and her drawings. The remnants of a girl whose memory he can’t erase. “She’s gone, Keon,” the captain says. For the first time, there seems to be a facsimile of sympathy in his soft voice. It only makes him feel more hollow. “Her and your mother both. But you have their memory, no? You can’t exactly harm the dead by caring for them.” He’s right. Keon knows he’s right. “I … should have separated myself long ago,” he murmurs. 

“That’s the spirit.” 

“What should —“

“You know what to do.” Lukas taps his hat with a finger. “As I said. You did it for two years. And don’t worry. It won’t be nearly so difficult once you get used to being alone.”

He wants to ask more questions. He wants to, but he knows, deep down, that the only reason to do so would be to keep Lukas in the room, and. Well. That would be antithetical to what the man is proposing. “What if they need me?” he asks, but his voice is weak and small. 

“I think you know as well as I do the answer to that, Keon.” Calm, steady. Factual. They don’t. He looks up from the keys, but Lukas is gone. All that remains is the room, the crayons, the dust, the fog — and the hollow thing in his chest that aches and aches and aches.

[ninisdollie]

lazy morning sex with boyfriend ni-ki 𓈒ིུ ❤︎

⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❤︎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⊹　₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ͏͏✧ content: +18MDNI

fem! reader x ni-ki, established relationship, lazy morning sex, very cozy and kind of fluffy, unprotected sex, a bit of dirty talk, creampie, reader riding riki, short drabble i wrote this in like 10 minutes so it’s not perfect.

Your boyfriend Ni-ki is sooo lazy in the mornings.

The fan spinning in wide, slow arcs above the bed, doing little more than stirring the thick, humid air. The curtains shifting lazily with the breeze, thin sunlight leaking through in soft golden ribbons. The whole room hot, summer clinging to the sheets, to your skin, to every shallow breath.

You draped over him, straddling his hips, chest pressed to his, so close your heartbeat feels like it’s echoing into his skin. The backs of your thighs stuck to his, sweat beading along the curve of your spine. You still half-asleep, eyelids heavy, lips parted against the side of his throat where you rest, breath brushing warm over his flushed skin.

Ni-ki hasn’t really woken up. His arms are still folded behind his head, long body stretched out on the mattress, completely bare beneath you. His hair is a mess, black strands damp with sweat, stuck to his forehead. His jaw is slack, mouth a little open, and his chest is rising in slow, rhythmic waves like he’s still dreaming.

But he’s inside you. Thick and hot and pulsing with every slow, lazy grind of your hips.

He lets out a low sigh that flutters against your temple. “You’re such a tease in the mornings,” he murmurs, his voice rough and syrup-slow. “You don’t even wait for me to wake up properly.” You smile against the curve of his jaw, not bothering to open your eyes either. “You were already hard,” you murmur, hips tilting just enough to make him twitch inside you. “Didn’t think you’d mind.” “I don’t,” he breathes, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “You feel too good to complain.”

He still hasn’t moved, still has his arms folded behind his head like he’s just letting you use him, warm, heavy, thick inside you. The slow grind of your hips is barely enough to be called fucking, but it’s perfect. Just the weight of him, the lazy stretch, the slow press of his cock dragging through your soaked cunt, is more than enough.

Your bodies stick together everywhere, your thighs to his, your chest to his, your fingers brushing sweat off his ribs. Every movement makes that slick, messy sound where your bodies meet, where his come from last night still clings to your skin. And when you clench around him, just a little, he lets out a choked whimper.

“Mmph… feels so good,” he whispered, barely audible. “Don’t stop. Don’t even wanna move.”“You’re not even helping,” you breath, a soft laugh leaving your lips, sweat dripping down your back. “I am helping,” he mumbles, not even opening his eyes. “I’m being your personal toy.”

You roll your eyes, but your body trembles at the way he twitches inside you. You’re dripping around him, soaking him, your slick making every drag extra slow and messy. “Fuck,” he says, eyes fluttering open for just a second. “You’re gonna make me come just like this. Not even moving. Just melting around me.” “You love it,” you whisper against his neck, licking at the salt there. “You love being lazy and messy and letting me do everything.” His breath shakes when you sink down again, taking him all the way in. “I do,” he groans, voice wrecked and trembling. “You’re so wet… feels so fucking good.”

You press your forehead to his, breath mingling, hips grinding in slow, shallow circles. He’s so warm inside you, so deep, and every shift makes your walls flutter around him. The pressure is thick, building slowly, pleasure curling low in your stomach like smoke.

“Mhm…” he hums, letting his head fall back into the pillows, the veins of his neck popping “Just like that. Ride me, baby…. take your time” You leanforward, lips brushing his ear, slick bodies pressed together. Your pace is slow but steady, rocking your hips in a rhythm that had both of you floating. Sticky thighs, messy kisses, breath shared between mouths too tired to speak.

Ni-ki’s hands slip up your back, pulling you down until you are flush against him, your chest pressed to his. His cock twitches inside you when you moan again, the sound so soft, so breathy, it made him swear under his breath. “Please don’t stop,” he whispers, a hint of a whine in his voice now. “Just like that. Want you to ride me slow, ‘til I come. Wanna feel you squeeze me.”

You let out a shaky breath and keep going, hips stuttering every time he pulses inside you, every vein feeling like it was made for you. It’s all so much, his heat, his voice, the way your clit brushes against him every time you move. And then he’s gasping, the noise punched out of his throat like he can’t take it.

“Gonna come—fuck, I’m—baby, please—”

You kiss him just as he spills inside you, his cock twitching hard, his whole body jerking beneath you. He moans into your mouth, a soft, broken sound that makes your whole body clench in response. His release is hot and wet, dripping out around him, making the mess between you even worse. But you don’t stop. You keep moving, slow and steady, chasing your own high now, using him as he trembles, as his hands tighten around your waist like he’s holding on for dear life. “God—come for me, princess” he begs, breathless, voice cracking. “Want you to make a mess all over me.”

You do, with a soft, strangled cry, your body going tight, your walls pulsing around him as the heat finally crashes through you. You feel it everywhere, your chest, your thighs, your throat. It’s not loud or fast, it’s drawn out and slow and deep, like your whole body’s unraveling in waves.

And when it fades, you collapse onto his chest, still full of him, skin slick with sweat, his come leaking between your thighs.

His cock is still soft inside you, and you’re both so wet, the mess between your legs warm and sticky where your thighs meet his hips. The sheets are a wreck, kicked halfway off the bed, your skin sticking to his in places. Ni-ki’s still catching his breath, arms wrapped lazily around your back now, stroking a single hand up your spine. His voice is soft, syrupy when he finally speaks. “Such a menace,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “Jumping on me before I’m even fully awake.”

You smile against his skin, nuzzling into his chest.

“You looked too good. Couldn’t help myself.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he says, breath huffing out in a lazy, fond little laugh. “Didn’t even ask if I was ready. Just sat on my dick and started grinding like it was your personal seat.” You hum innocently. “You weren’t complaining.” “I’m still not complaining.” His palm slides down to rest on your ass, squeezing lazily. “Just saying. You’re lucky I like being used like a human vibrator.”

You lift your head just enough to meet his eyes, still heavy-lidded and warm, and give him a smug little smirk. “You love it.” He rolls his eyes playfully, tilting his head back on the pillow. “I do. And i love you.”

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAu Drabble - Day in Town

The poll has ended (and as always i sneaked to see the results early :3) and this one won out! @spotaus

You guys really just like the domestic fluff of these guys trying to parent. Don't you? It is okay. They are rather sweet :D

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Lets get to it! (and for those who forgot because i did because i only mentioned the name ONCE. Crop's brother is called Straw :D) Also I had to really consider who's POV I was going to use for this one as they all would have worked but I ended up going with Killer because he is silly and hasn't had a turn in a while. At least that is what it feels like :D

*----------------*

Killer taps the door as he stares out of the window of the truck. People would assume it is crowded but it honestly isn't that bad.

Mostly because Horror is sitting in the by rider seat with Nightmare in his lap, safely seated. Cross and Dust decided they prefered to drive in the actual cargo area of the truck. Which left only Killer and Crop in the backseat.

Killer honestly also thinks that Dust specifically prefered to sit in the back as he wouldn't have to see Straw. Dust still has the most issues with seeing any other universe's Papyrus. Killer would have gone to sit with him but Cross had been faster with offering it and there is no way in HELL that Killer was going to leave Horror and Ngihtmare without a set of extra sockets.

Doesnt make the drive any less tense.

tap. tap. tap. tap.

Crop sends him another nervous glance before clearing his throat "So.. you guys are finally going to see the town! excited?"

Killer huffs "Not really. But Dusty mentioned needed actual stuff for Nighty." which is why Killer leans closer to the seat before him holding Horror and Nightmare. He looks over the side and grins at Nightmare "sup tiny boss."

Nightmare looks over and sends him a tiny glare "You should have your seatbelt on."

Killer coos "Aw you do care~ such a sweet baby."

Nightmare blushes and mutters as he hides his face in Horror's sweater. Horror sends him an amused look "Killer. stop that."

Killer shrugs and leans back in his seat. feeling very accomplished.

Killer just needs to make sure that Nightmare doesn't fall into old patterns of trying to be the adult and leader. He doesn't need to do that and it isn't healthy for the babybones. so. Time to unlearn! At least those moments have been getting less and less frequent so there is progress!

Killer still doesn't appreciate the look send their way from both Crop and Straw, Yes he knows tiny boss is adorable but if they as much as try to get closer there is going to be spilled dust.

Straw stops the truck and announces their arrival.

Crop gets out quickly and they are on a parkinglot outside a shopping street. It isn't too large by the looks of it and just shops and a bar restaurant thing, probably this universes Grillby's.

Crop smiles at them "Okay! First day out!" Crop looks almost as nervous about this as Cross looks and Cross is actively looking around and has his hand ready to grab his knife.

Crop must see it too as he and straw share a look. Straw motions towards them and the town and Crop waves it off.

Crop turns back to them and Killer grins "SOmething the matter?"

Crop is quick to answer "What?! No! Of course not! It is just. a lot. This can be a lot and i just want to be sure everything is fine!"

Killer chuckles and sees Horror shoot him a disapproving glance. Still Horror goes over to Cross and hands Nightmare over to him. Cross is quick to hug him close and Nightmare has his grumpy face on again but still holds unto Cross. Clearly comfortable.

Horror joins his side "Killer. Stop." Killer sticks his tongue out at Horror and Horror's disapprovement makes way for amusement.

Hah! Still got it!

Horror looks at Crop "This isn't first time for us. We know how to behave."

Crop nods as he rubs his arm "I figured! It is just... If this works out you guys can stay longer and have something of a base to fall back on. I am just worried because some people can be..." he searches for the words.

Straw leans clsoer "Mean, harsh and rude."

Crop sends him a glare and Straw shrugs "It is true!"

Crop sighs "Anyway." he turns back to them "Ready to introduce yourselves?"

Killer grins "And spread rumours!" He can see Dust pull a pained face again. Dust is still not a fan of the backstory they settled on but they are already commited to it after the doctor's visit!

Crop chuckles and grins "I am still curious about what you guys settled on myself..."

Killer shakes his skull and shakes his finger "No no. No cheating. figure it out yourself" and he grins.

Cross huffs as he keeps Nightmare fully against him "Lets just get this over with..."

Adn they walk into town.

People are staring which they all had expected and should be used to at this point. But Killer doesn't like the fact how many people see Nightmare at the moment, and by the looks of it, neither do the others like this. Cross keeps trying to hold Nightmare as close as possible and almost hide by Horror. Dust has started to fully shadow the two as he barely looks around.

Crop and Straw obviously see the tension and seem to be sharing more uncertain looks.

Nightmare however doesn't seem to share their issues as he happily leans away from the hold to enable himself to look around. He studies buildings and vehicles. and even just stares back at people staring at him. Clearly more interested in learning about this new place than actual worry.

Or maybe he just feels safe with them and that does THINGS to Killer.

Crop stops them near the middle of the streat "okay! This is it!" he waves around himself "It isn't a lot now as people are still waiting for the produce to finish growing. But. Generally." he points to a shop "General store. they have most things needed." he points to the shop next to it "Bookstore. self explainatory." he points to the large bar "Grillby's is a bar and restaurant. people spend most of their free evenings there."

Hah! Called it!

Crop points out a few more buildings but most of those are for farming things and supplies.

Dust nods and looks over at them before looking back to the bookstore and general store "Going to get things. be back soon."

They watch him casually walk away on his own.

Yeah no absolutely not!

Killer is already half jogging after Dust as he waves at Cross, Horror and Nighmare "You guys stick together and get a feel for other people!" After which he sprints to catch up with Dust.

They enter the general store together.

Dust shoots him a look "don't need a babysitter."

Killer huffs and grins "Says you!" and he follows Dust as Dust looks at things. Killer just doens't like any of them being alone unless it is at a secured place. So Killer will jsut stalk Dusty for a bit! It is perfect!

Dusty looks at items and ends up getting two more notebooks and some pencils. he nods to himself and gets in line to pay for the items.

Killer checks the funds and frowns. They are running out and they will either have to go to another universe to steal more and risk drawing attention or actually think of a way to make money the legal way.

A groan from upfront and Killer looks up to see a teenager panicking over the cash register. the customers before them all look angry and annoyed.

The teenager presses buttons but nothing seems to help "I am sorry. I am sorry! It just... has issues once in a while. I can fix this!" the teenager does not look any clsoer to fixing it!

Dust huffs and turns to him "Hold." and Killer gets the few school supplies pushed into his arms. Dust afterwards walks over to the front. He grabs the basket of items and pushes it into the arms of the man in front "Hold." the man goes to say something but Dust just hops on top of the counter and sits next to the register. He turns it this and that way.

Dust hums as he pulls out his pocket knife and undoes some screws. the cap opens and he looks into the darkness, a shift in his socket and his eye light now lights up the inside of the register.

He looks at the teen "Got tape?"

The teenager blinks at him before nodding.

Dust nods "Get it." and turns back to the register as he removes some wires and starts making tiny cuts.

The teen grabs it from a drawer and hands it over "Euh... sir... I don't... i mean... i am not allowed... i don't know if you can..."

Dust hums and doesn't listen at all as he redoes some of the wires and removes some of them that looked burned through. He secures things with the tape and closes the back up again. he turns the register back in place and hits the side once.

The register lights up and asks for a log in.

Dust looks at the teen "Fixed." he hops down of the counter. Takes the basket the man in front is still holding dumbfounded. DUst places it back on the counter and walks back to Killers side where he takes his own stuff back.

Killer grins at him "Nicely done. I think that is a new record for you fixing soemthign."

Dust may appear calm but Killer know shim and can see the smaller skeleton looks smug "Easy fix. just a burned wire."

Killer nods "Still a new record! Sadly i didn't have the free hands to time it."

Dust shrugs and acts like he doesn't care but Killer knows better.

The line goes a lot quicker and once it is their turn they quickly pay for the items.

The leave the store and Killer points at the bookstore "Do we need anything from there?"

Dust thinks for a moment before shaking his skull.

Ah. seems like Dust doesn't plan on expanding the classes just yet. Likely wants to see if they actually stay for longer here first.

So they walk back to the group as Dust holds a tiny bag with the new things. they see them near another store and they seem to be talking to a bunny and a dog monster.

The bunny coos as they stare at Ngihtmare and Killer feels himself glae as he rushes to their side "Hey!! Whatsup!" and he nuzzles Nightmare in greeting.

Nightmare huffs and whines "Killer! Careful for my ice cream." Killer pulls back and sees now that Nightmare is also holding ice cream. woops. Killer looks down adn yeah that is ice cream on his shirt. Oh well. he shrugs.

Cross laughs as he smiles at Nightmare "Still good to eat?"

Nightmare studies his ice cream before nodding and going back to eating it with tiny tiny licks. dust joins them again and Nightmare immediantly looks at him. Killer can spot their tiny Nightlight starting to raise an arm towards Dust but he stops himself and pulls it back.

Luckily, or unluckily, Dust is very observant and saw it right away. He gives the bag to Killer and easily climbs the haystack Nightmare had been sitting on. Dust next pulls Nightmare into his lap without disturbing the ice crema eating process.

Nightmare hums happily and leans back into the hug as a tiny purr starts to leave him.

Killer grins as he leans against the hay stack and looks at the two other monsters, who are staring very intensly at Dust and Nightmare and Killer feels... something protective rise up. still he keeps asmile on his face as he speaks "who are the new fluffballs?"

The bunny smiles brightly "Hey! I am Ellie and this is Dani, we are fellow farmers like Crop. We own a tree farm and cherry farm."

the dog, Dani, nods "Yeah! Crop asked us if we had any spare clothes so we kinda knew some people moved in. it is nice to meet you five!" she smiles brightly.

Killer nods as he keeps his arms crossed and his grin sharp. stop looking at them. stop looking at them. stop looking at-

Horror nods "Nice to... meet friendly faces. We are still...settling..."

Cross helps quickly "As Horror said, we are still getting used to things around here. we are very lucky that Horror and Crop were friends and he was willing to let us stay."

Dani looks curious "I hope you don't mind me asking... why the name change from Sans to Crop?"

Killer freezes as he tries to think but Cross shrugs "Skeleton naming thing. Normally you are named after fonts that we speak in, yes we can see fonts and yes it gets weird and yes it takes magic. We just kinda know the vibe and with magic can see those. You can named after that. problem, we all speak in the same font type. Meaning we all kinda had the same name." he rubs his neck "Two people with the same name you can work around but six gets confusing. So nicknames."

Ellie smiles brightly "Dani and I are the same! We were both named Danielle and when we met we realised this would get annoying. especially when we.. euh... got together together." she giggles "so. we are now Dani and Ellie!"

Dani looks highly amused "Our house voicemail is still, the house of Danielle however. It was too good of a joke to pass up."

Ellie nods and smiles "If you guys need anything or help let us know. We have a lot of leftover stuff from our own moving and getting settled and saved everything we could." She looks at Nightmare and Dust again and smiles "And can I jsut say the tiny one is adorable." she looks curiously at them all "So... you guys got one?"

Killer feels that portective rage turn into protective and possessive smugness as Dust answers "he is mine. we all work together." and he shrugs at the questioning look.

Cross shakes his skull at the questioning look "That... is rather personal... they prefer not to talk about it."

Killer can see Ellie and Dani share a worried look before both smile reassuring "That is fine. Take it easy okay?" Dani smiles as Ellie nods along.

They continue the small talk for a moment longer before Ellie reminds DAni that they came to get fertilizer and they two walk off hand in hand.

Crop watches them go "That... went very well..."

Horror looks at him amused "Told you."

Crop laughs adn nods "Yeah you were right. You guys totally got this."

They remain there and meet a few more people from town as they wait for Straw to finish getting what Crop and him need for their actual farm.

Killer relaxes in the sun as the day slowly passes.

When they get back Cross will probably force him out of his now sticky shirt. Killer will tease him about wanting to undress him which will make Cross sputter and blush. Killer will end up wearing aclean shirt and probably watch as Dust teaches Nightmare more about math while Horror and Cross help Crop and Straw around on the farm.

Killer hadn't expected this all to go like this but it is nice. it is quiet. and most important, they are all safe.

*------------------*

All in all? Great success!

I still don't feel like i quite nailed Killer. Killer is a curious character to write as he is very silly but also wickedly smart. mmmmh. but then again this is a drabble. *shrug*

Realistically? If this was a full on chaptered fanfic this would probably be a chapter i had to rewrite a few times. Just to make sure I get Killer's character and behaviour right. But for now it is fine :)

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[starry-sophrosyne]

... @toadettely @sopping-wet-cat-wizard y'know, april fools is over, BUT...

"No, what am I saying- That's too mean, I can't do that-" "Fufufu~ But I can~"  (｀▽ ´) // "YOU-" (/｀ᗣ ´ )/

(also for reference bc GUESS WHO CAN PEN- XD /hj /lh /silly):

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(TW: blood/gore, death, car crash incident, graphic imagery)

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S&S: There is a world where Brent never meets Eevee. There is a world where he wakes up one morning, yawning as he rubs his eyes. He'd been somewhat exhausted by his gaming session with "Sofist" last night, not that it was unenjoyable. He gets ready for the day as per usual, nothing out of the ordinary. It's all regular, for now, that is. Walking out of his apartment, he raises an eyebrow at the suspicious amount of cars stuck on the local road. Oh well, a crash of some kind? He shrugs and continues walking down the road. Ducking under some construction, he carefully avoids all the prying eyes and workers, taking his shortcut to the cafe. What he sees when he turns the corner, however? Well..

It's graphical, distraught to say the least. He can see the limb of somebody, splayed across the road in a pool of blood. He winces. Damn? They'd been sloppy setting up the perimeter apparently, blocking it from normal eye-witness view, but not from here. Either way, he couldn't make out too much between the ambulance and the police cars stationed in the intersection.

As for the authorities, he can make out them questioning certain people and speaking into their walkie talkies. Their faces are far away but filled with concern as they discuss with each other. Meanwhile, the paramedics tending to the body on the ground, and.. For some reason, he pauses. It's not in any of his good interests to watch this, to get involved with some random traffic incident of an unfortunate civilian, and yet? Something tugs at him, opposing his normal desire to stay out of conflict and general indifference/apathy. He doesn't know why, why this moment specifically?, but it doesn't.. feel.. weird. It's weirdly urging, instead bringing him to stop in his tracks. As he choicely watches the paramedics ready the body bag, he catches a glimpse of the poor man who had faced the consequences.

His hair was curly, coifs of coffee brown tinged with blood. His facial hair was the same color, and his gaze relaxed. His eyes were partially closed in a stereotypical thought of sleeping, with a glint from the sun revealing his hazed over green eyes, devoid of any brightness. What catches Brent's eye immediately, however, is his bright purple coat. Most of it is soaked with crimson gore, now a dark maroon, but even still. It's such a stand out, he can't help but wonder how the man even got hit in the first place.

After a few more seconds, the guided feeling seems to go away, and he turns his head away from the scene. (Unbeknownst to him, he'd been watching for, comparatively, far longer than a few seconds.) Best to move on, for whatever reason he felt compelled to watch EMTs deal with the body, almost as if he was making sure they would properly take care of him. It was weird, but whatever. He didn't have enough time to stay around and see him get sent off, realizing he was late for his shift. Despite his sudden spike of empathy, it was just another day, just with an unfortunate incident. He prayed for the man though, as he finally set foot onto regular sidewalk. May his soul, and whoever he is, rest in peace, for meeting such an untimely end.

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Walking into the cafe, the door closed behind him with the bell's signature jingle. Vern's head shot up, his face twisted with a hint of concern as he rushed over to Brent, who'd barely placed his bag on the desk before Vern grabbed his shoulders, gripping them firmly and causing Brent to jolt a bit out of surprise.

"Brent! Oh my god, you scared me-" "?" "-I saw the crash nearby, and you- came in a few minutes later than you normally do, and- oh god I'd just thought the worst!" Vern could hardly control himself from his ramble, spilling out his emotions, but he paused when he noticed the rather amused look on Brent's face. Brent only chuckled at him, despite the severity of the situation/his anxiety. Vern gave him a dirty look, but let out a sigh of both relief and annoyance relief, glad to know his friend was okay.

As Vern let go of his shoulders, Brent starting unpacking stuff from his bag. Placing his log sheet and charger down in the little table within the break room, Vern asked:

"Why were you late anyways? You normally show up before I even get here. Did something.. actually happen while you were getting here?" He added tentatively.

"..." He paused, his hands tightening around his laptop, contemplating if it was worth it to tell Vern. About the man he'd seen, eyes hazed over in death, body dull and cold, hair stiff with dried blood. It was something in it of its own right, something that he wished he hadn't seen. But at the same time, the death of this random civilian weighed heavier than it should've in his heart. He didn't know why, but still, maybe it was the sight of his eyes; ones that pierced his soul, staring at him even after passing. They were so.. cold. Almost as if they were blaming, in hatred. His blood chilled, thinking about it all, and a heaviness set in the room. Oh. Man, he'd never felt this way before. He'd just witnessed death, hadn't he? How was he acting like this was all okay?

He held in a sigh, settling for a tight exhale as he shook his head, not looking up from his stuff. No, it was best not to trouble his more emotionally affected friend with his.. issues. Were he to tell Vern, he'd likely become more aggrieved than him. Even still, looking up and noticing Vern's still apprehensive gaze, he feigned a small smile; keeping it up even as he looked back down in the black expanses of his duffel bag, now empty. He couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes. "I'm serious dude, nothing happened. Don't worry about it."

"... Alright, if you say so." The air was thick with tension, the silence being left unbroken. Vern's footsteps were soft as they padded against the tiled floor, the door slowly creaking closed behind him. One last glance behind his shoulder, before he fully shut the door, putting on a smile to greet the guests that had entered the cafe. Meanwhile, the room had become dimmed sightly with the waning sunlight as the light from the cafe dissipated. Brent stared down once more, as if questioning the true morality behind what he'd seen. With a sigh, his shoulder slumped. Sitting down onto the rickety foldable chair, he put his head in his arms, on top of the table. He wasn't ready to go out. Not just yet. Not while the green eyes of someone haunted him. He couldn't just go and pretend everything was okay, even he had no damn idea why the death of some random stranger had messed him up so badly.

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Vern found him struggling to think of positive messages to write atop his orders for the rest of the afternoon. Brent did not come out of the break room for a long time, and even once he did, he was silent as he worked. Nick didn't come in for coffee that day.

[good-beanswrites]

And a sort of alternate version for the last Fuuta/cry prompt, from a normal au that lives in my brain -- some hurt/comfort with Mappi :')

Mahiru hummed as she stirred. The apartment was filled with the wonderful aroma of her cooking. A door around the corner clicked. Perfect timing, she thought with a smile.

She hadn’t been sure Fuuta would wake up in time for dinner. He’d been out cold ever since she picked him up from his dorm room. Well, he’d probably recount it as kidnapping, since he was in no state to actually agree to come along. But that was the very reason she’d dragged his weak form out of there – no one at the school had noticed that calls stopped going through to him, or that his social media pages all vanished overnight, or that he’d stopped attending classes. When Mahiru finally made her way to his dark, trash-piled room, she discovered him with a 39 degree fever and rambling frantically about death. She needed to take matters into her own hands.

And that’s exactly what she did. Fuuta could hardly keep food down, after his diet of instant meals, energy drinks, and painkillers (if the discarded containers around his room were any clue), so she replaced them with homemade soups and teas. She traded his rumpled bed for her own, which was sweet-scented and well-lit. Mikoto had even helped with a change of pajamas for him. 

Mahiru had taken the liberty of calling Fuuta’s sister to let her know the situation, though it was difficult to find her information without Fuuta’s phone. She couldn’t find it anywhere in his dorm. She’d also given Shidou a call, and he’d stopped by the first day to check in. He said Fuuta should be more coherent by day three, at least.

Mahiru could always count on him for reliable information. Sure enough, soft steps approached from behind. 

“Good to see you, sleepyhead~” She smiled over her shoulder. Though in a better state than when she found him, Fuuta was still a bit of a mess. He looked pale and thin in Mikoto’s clothes, which were already big on him. His eyes were bleary. Strands of bright hair stuck out at all angles. His expression was dull, taking in the cozy apartment. 

“Mahiru made your favorite for dinner! I bet you’re hungry.”

“I… don’t want it… ” His expression was uncharacteristically blank. 

Mahiru giggled; he must be really tired to be denying food. “Oh, of course you do!”

“No, you… you don’t understand…” 

“Come take a seat, it’s ready now.”

He took a step forward. “Mahiru…”

“You should be more careful, Fuuta-kun! Next time you come down with something, you should really let somebody know. It’s a miracle I came and found you in time, hm?”

She spun to set things on the table. The pride in her masterpiece faded away as his expression twisted up. His hands drifted up shakily to his face, and he started to sob. 

“Fuuta-kun!”

Mahiru hurried to him. His knees gave out as she wrapped her arms around him. He leaned down into her, his breath hitching and hiccupping as he tried to tell her something. “You shouldn’t… if you knew what I… I…” 

“Shhh, hey. Shhh...”

After a moment of broken phrases and body-wracking sobs, he regained his balance and pulled away from her. There was a look in his eyes Mahiru had seen in the last few days, when he was trying to talk through his delirium. She’d chalked it up to feverishness, but she now saw that this raw, revolted horror was something real. 

“I fucked up.”

The simple sentence sent him into a fresh wave of panic. He tried to step backwards and hide his face away, but she tugged his sleeve backward. Normally she wouldn’t be able to forcibly move him anywhere, but for the second time, he was too weak to stop her.

“Just breathe,” she said. “You can tell me.”

Mahiru had known Fuuta for long enough to hear the range of his voice – the excited chatter, the snarky muttering, the grating yelling. In all that time, she’d never once heard him sound like this. His words cracked and wobbled. Sometimes it was so hushed that Mahiru had to press her ear closer just to understand.

And by the time he finished, she understood why.

“I didn’t know,” he kept repeating. “I’d never h-have done it if… if…”

“It’s okay,” was all Mahiru could repeat in turn, through her own tears. It wasn’t quite the truth, but it wasn’t a lie, either. It was what Fuuta needed to hear, and that’s all that mattered.

“I just want to take it back… but there’s no way… What am I – what am I supposed to do?” 

“We’ll figure it out, alright? It’ll be okay.” She guided him around. “Let’s get you back to bed, okay? I’ll bring the food in to you.”

He paused. His teary eyes studied her in bewilderment. “W-why?”

“Eh? Well how else are you supposed to eat from there…?”

“No, I mean,” he swallowed hard. “Why would you do that? You… you don’t hate me…?” 

“Oh, Fuuta-kun.”

She wrapped her arms around him again. This time, he willingly returned the gesture. He grabbed onto her for dear life, and Mahiru was suddenly struck with just how much of a miracle it really had been, that she’d found him in the state he was. 

She held him close, one palm spread on his back, the other twisted through his hair. 

“Not at all. Now, let me feed you something, okay?”

“... Okay.”

[fushitoru]

finish her! a toji fushiguro oneshot

pairing ⸺ wrestler!toji x reader

summary ⸺ you will have to face one of the most formidable wrestlers in history in your next match: toji fushiguro. but don't be confused, this isn't normal wrestling⸺no, it's nude wrestling. and winner gets the spoils of the other's body! (extended ver of my toji drabble here) creds to @/reynisxxsimart on twitter for art!

warnings ⸺ nasty, NASTY smut, VERY public sex, WWE but pornhub edition, you’re a wrestler fighting toji, so some violence but nothing graphic, fem!reader, HUMILIATION, degradation, you're literally fucked in an arena of people, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spanking, oral sex (f! recieving), boobplay, very inaccurate depiction of wrestling/WWE, not edited we die like toji

a/n im going to sit in the corner and think about what i just wrote

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

the muffled sounds of the crowd’s deafening roar seem to swirl in the space around you, each cheer vibrating through your chest like distant thunder. you take a long, cool sip of water, a welcome contrast to the warm air backstage. lounging back, you let the chair support your weight, your muscles still humming with the residual tension of anticipation. utahime’s fingers work into your shoulders, and her voice filters through the buzzing atmosphere, calm and steady as she gives you a rundown of the night ahead, though her words seem to blur slightly at the edges—just background noise to the constant hum of adrenaline.

“in front of a crowd—do you understand? and the rules are no fucking, unless all clothes are off first.”

“right,” you affirm, albeit hesitantly. you’re feeling a bit jitterish in anticipation of what’s to happen, despite having trained months to hone your ability as a wrestler. look, wwe itself can get really suggestive at times, with people giving wedgies, removing certain articles of clothing, or even letting the crowd cop a feel of the defeated to serve as humiliation. not only does it improve publicity, but it also increases viewership of all the horny bastards on the internet to circle the televised clip around in their subreddits or discord servers.

but what you were going to do today—that was a bit…extreme. it was like bridging the gap between soft core and hard core, with the humiliation turned up to a hundred. because today, you were going to wrestle the man that all female–and male–wrestlers could even dream of having their hands on, even if for a slight moment.

toji fushiguro.

a man of impressive build—entering a ring with him only meant defeat. he’s had numerous career wins, far exceeding any other. hell, you shouldn’t even be matched to wrestle with him today; he outweighs and outranks you by far. the only thing you really have running for you is the sheer amount of fans you have, ready to tune in to your fights and edit your moves and time spent in the fighting ring to songs like “chun li” and “maneater.” so, sure, you don’t exactly anticipate a win today in that stadium that’s waiting for you, but you’re no less of a wrestler in your own right. you won’t go down without a fight.

however, today was no normal fight. the wwe had suddenly decided that their viewership was too low, that extreme measures needed to be taken to boost. so, ironically enough they had decided to change the rules just before your momentous match:

all wrestlers must consent to having all and any articles of clothing removed from their person, particularly for sexual intercourse as a reward for the winner.

so, WWE (Pornhub’s Version) (In The Vault). 

and your luck dictated that this paradigm shift for the organization occur just before your most anticipated match with toji. again, you knew that no amount of training could prevent you from getting utterly humiliated, but it was almost like the gods were laughing down on you, eager to rub in your impending defeat once more. because you were going to get your shit fucked up—-literally.

“it’s going to be fine,” utahime assures you, and you snap back to the present from your thoughts at the sound of her voice. “just think about the publicity this’ll get you! not that you don’t have any fans of yourself, but there are going to be a lot of people tuned in because of fushiguro.”

you take an inhale in and nod. “yea, that’s true. i just want to get it over with.”

as if answering your prayers, gojo satoru, the mc, burst into your dressing room. “it’s your time to shine, buttercup!” he grins, ushering you out the door. albeit a bit nervously, you stand up and make your way into the hallway that leads directly into the middle of the arena. “you’re going to do great!”

as soon as you walk closer and closer to the arena, the screams get louder and louder, the music booming and causing the floor under you to vibrate. the sounds of people surround all your senses, wrapping you up and causing your heartbeat to go faster and faster. 

reaching the end of the hallway, the arena is filled with light, and you have to blink to get a hold of your sight. surrounding the center boxing ring are stands upon stands of people, hustling and bustling. at the sight of you, cameramen stationed around in various spots through the arena furiously angle their cameras towards you. not only are journalists and the media snapping pictures, blinding you with the flash, but you see yourself displayed on the big screens visible to everyone in the arena. you smile and wave, causing your fans to scream as they register that you have walked in. 

then, a realization washes over you. these are the same screens that are going to be projected whatever's going to happen during the fight and when you lose.

oh god.

you walk forward, trying to keep up your smile and wave to all of your fans that outstretched their hands, trying to cop a feel and/or get a high five. most of your fans are male (to no one's surprise), and you can feel their eyes roving over you appreciatively, taking in your outfit. it was simple and tight; shorts that just barely covered your ass and was snug around your hips, and a low cut top that couldn't even be called a top. your cleavage was on full display, and the top stopped just below your waist. typically, this is your wrestling attire you wear to a normal match, but you couldn't help but wryly notice that today, your neckline was cut lower than usual. the wwe was really trying to milk this, huh?

you stood just below the boxing ring, eyes anxiously scanning the arena, unconsciously searching for the man you were set to fight. but no matter how hard you looked, you couldn't spot his tall, muscular figure either in the ring or in the seat he was supposed to occupy with his manager.

a light tap on your shoulder startled you, and you turned to find utahime behind you, a concerned look on her face. "everything alright?"

"yeah," you said, waving her off with a forced smile. "but where is he?"

utahime pointed toward the boxing ring, and then you saw it—a glimpse of black hair.

"alright," you said, swallowing nervously. "i'm heading into the ring. wish me luck."

"wait!" utahime called out, but you were already too far to hear her. gripping the ropes at the edge of the ring, you hauled yourself up and strode toward the center, determined to get a better view. and there, just on the far side of the ring, hidden from your previous angle, was toji fushiguro.

he was lounging back, relaxed, his posture almost lazy as he faced his manager, shiu kong. you couldn’t see toji's face from this angle, but his body language indicated that he was the epitome of ease. shiu was saying something to him, and from your best attempt at lip reading, you could just make out the words, "don't break the rules today."

toji, on the other hand, didn't seem to be looking at him (giving 0 fucks, something so classically toji), focusing now towards the big screens everyone else saw in the arena. you turned your gaze towards them as well, only to be taken aback when it was you, a compilation of your best moments in the ring, narrated by gojo.

“and today, fellas, we’re going to see the bombshell y/n—the maneater, as coined by her fans—-competing! while her opponent is fushiguro, don’t be fooled—she can pack a mean punch. look at this fight with mei mei; she sweeped the floor with her face!” 

satisfied, you looked around, the arena bustling with people getting drinks, being enraptured with your fight on the screen, or pointing at you or toji. toji, on the other hand, was chuckling and shaking his head at your fight, observing as you gave the bitch mei mei a wedgie. which kind of made you flustered, because you had developed a crush on the guy observing him from afar or in passing, so you just focused on shaking out your legs and arms in nervousness.

gojo similarly announced toji’s fights and compilation, gassing him up for the crowd and it was then that toji finally turned around, uninterested in whatever was going on, and caught your eye. you stared back, breath held involuntarily. 

his eyes had a predatory glint to them, and he smiled, charmingly in a way that showed off his scar, and they scanned up and down your figure, taking in what you were wearing—or rather, letting his imagination run. nervously, your heart sped up as you clenched your thighs up in anticipation or anxiety, you couldn’t choose which, as your mind began running at the speed of light thinking about what was going to happen today.

today, you weren’t only going to wrestle toji fushiguro. you were going to fuck him.

but you’re jolted out of your thoughts as gojo’s obnoxious voice blares through the speakers. “give it up for thee wwe goat, toji fushiguro!”

screams reach an all time high as his smirk is broadcasted to the audience, biceps bulging and flexing as he heaves his way up on the ring, joining you. he waves lazily, roars at an all time high as he stalks his way to you, and you squeeze your nails into your palm out of nervousness.

when gojo announces your name, the male screams rise up in volume, causing you to giggle and fushiguro to roll his eyes from what you can see in the corner of your eye. you give a dainty wave, choosing to wink and blow a kiss to the camera in front of you, causing your fans to scream even louder.

“you sure got a lotta fanboys, darling.” you jump as toji has now bent down to whisper in your ear, literally sending shivers down your spine.

you force out a laugh. “and you're at no shortage of fangirls yourself, fushiguro.”

he gives you a nonchalant hum, assuming his original position. as gojo continued to yap about the stakes of the round today, the recent rule change, a referee walked over to you both, coming in closer so that you would be able to hear him over the chaos of the arena.

“so, you’re both aware of the rules, right?” he both looked at you, to which you nodded and toji’s smirk widens. “you gotta get the other’s clothes completely off, and the first one to do that wins.”

you gulp, eyeing what toji was wearing today. it was his signature garb, the one he wore to almost every match without fail: grey pants with various sponsorships sewed on, and a black compression shirt. it was definitely very minimal compared to what a lot of the other wrestlers wore, but it was iconic, giving him a lazy, laid back aura that no other wrestler could truly emanate.

it wasn’t anything hard to take off in particular.

both of you affirmed your consent to the referee, who then took a step back after wishing you both good luck.  you turned, facing toji face on, who had his hand on his hip. “try to last long, okay?” he smirks, patting your shoulder with his other hand. “i’ll try to drag this out as much as i can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”

you glare, but there isn’t much intensity to it because you know he’s much stronger than you. there isn’t much to get angry about. “yea, yea,” you huff. “for all i know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”

he barks out a laugh and looks at the referee, who has one hand raised, the other one poised on his whistle, ready to blow and start the round. it’s starting soon. then, he looks back to you and smiles. “let the games begin.”

the referee blows the whistle.

at once, you launch yourself towards toji, trying to jump on him to get him off his feet with your weight. instead, he dodges easily and leaves you hurtling towards the floor, making you poise yourself on your hands and feet upon impact. you roll over just as toji tries to tackle you and pin you against your original position on the floor and quickly get up.

however, as you’re steadying yourself on your feet, toji grabs your ankle, causing you to lose your balance and giving him the advantage to pin himself on top of you, his mouth breathing heavily next to your ear, whispering so it was just the two of you that could hear his words. “what do you think i should take off first?” he laughs deeply, the vibration causing you to shiver and try to squirm to get out of his hold, to no avail. “should it be these?” he snakes his hands down to grope your tits, giving them a firm squeeze, much to the arena’s pleasure. “or should i take these off of you?” he slaps your ass, making you blush furiously.

“fuck you,” you hiss as his hands catch on the edge of your shorts.

he gives you a sweet, small kiss on your temple. “don’t worry, baby,” he smiles. “you’ll be doing that anyways.” and with that, he pulls at your shorts until the waistband’s elastic rips, leaving your shorts in tatters until he throws the remains of it away, baring your panty-covered ass to the crowd, which immediately grows wild.

you crane your neck to look at the screen, which is currently focused on toji’s hands feeling up your ass, dipping inside your underwear to knead the flesh. your heart is pounding, the thought i need to get the upper hand flashing continuously across your mind. it’s almost as if you’re drowning, the noises of the crowd blurring together until it was only you and toji’s weight on you. you barely heard the announcer exclaim, “toji is currently in the lead!” as you focused on calculating your next move.

it was time to pull out all the stops. 

turning your head until you were making eye contact with him, you bit your lip, momentarily distracted him with the 180 turn of your actions, now nonchalant rather than the flailing you were doing earlier. then, you raised your hips, meeting your backside with his crotch in an effort to catch him off guard and to make him lose balance. then, you maneuvered yourself so your thighs surround toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. this momentarily distracted and weakened toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. you quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. the whole stadium, in fact, can see his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.

smirking while peering down at him, you slowly grind your hips as if you were riding a mechanical bull, making a show of spinning around his shirt with your hand to mock him. toji’s eyes darken, but a mirthless smile flashes across his face anyways. “damn, take me out to dinner first.”

you flash him one of your own humorless smirks, happy that you got at least one thing against him. “i don’t fuck anyone before the first day, honey. this is just another cheap fuck.” with that, you yank his head back with his hair roughly, making a show of motorboating his pecs, as if to mock him.

instead of getting angry, he chuckles darkly. “you’re going to regret that. i was going to drag this out, princess, but i gotta fuck the brat out of you.” with that, he spins you around just as quickly—if not quicker—pinning you against the ground with your hands held above your head in one hand in a vice grip, the other groping its way down your body. he buries his face in your neck, salaciously licking the length of it. with his free hand—now stationed around your tits—he grabs at the hem of your top, pulling it up so everyone could see your lace bra. mockingly, he plants his face in the middle of your tits, moving his head side by side to motorboat you just as you had done to him, the soft plush of your tits encompassing his face.

the crowd cheers, even more so than they had when you had ripped his shirt off, as toji completely rips the top off as you squirm, making the removal even easier for him. you can feel all eyes on you as toji reaches for the clip of your bra, unhooking it and making your tits pop out. helplessly, you look at the screen, your writhing making them move in a jiggling motion, sweat shining and giving you the “oiled-up” look. he takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “what a sensitive girl,” he coos. “too bad she was too weak. now she’s going to have to take my cock.”

with that, he teasingly closes the distance between the waistband of your panties and his teeth, mouth snagging on the elastic. slowly, he drags them down, unveiling your glistening pussy for all eyes to see, and the crowd goes wild, chanting random requests at toji to do the most heinous things to you. as soon as you’re completely naked, he grabs you by the waist, propping you up against one of the corner posts. you’re now standing up, tearfully facing the arena as the wrestler kneels behind you, burying his face and nosing his way until your pussy, lapping up your wetness.

at the unexpected feeling of his tongue, you yelp, and toji slaps your ass. “stay still.” acquiescing, he licks up long stripes and shakes his head to grind his nose into your cunt, pleasuring you while humiliating you in front of everyone, forcing you to succumb to the pleasure he’s making you feel. while licking you, he groans. “fuck, this pussy is so sweet. i’ve run out of patience, fuck the performance part.”

with that, toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees on the floor and pulls down his pants. you don’t even look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs. 

he drags his cock teasingly through your folds, and then brings it out to slap it against your ass, humming appreciatively at the recoil. then, as if he’s lost patience, he’s slowly entering you, pushing against your pussy’s resistance as he penetrates you in front of the whole arena. “fuck!” he groans, getting a better grip on you as he pushes your head down on the mat and fully goes to pound town.  

the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “the fuck this pussy’s so tight for? thought you were a slut?”

you’re tearing up, the feeling of his dick hitting your g-spot straight on making you clench hard, overwhelmed by the feeling of him pummeling you and his hands on your body, feeling you up. clearly, he knew how to pleasure a woman, and it made you all the more annoyed. you were fucked out, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “you’re not turning me on, small dick.”

he did not like that very much.

toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? why is she dripping, you whore?” as if to demonstrate his point, he brings his fingers to rub at your clit furiously, collecting the wetness that had dripped down from your hole then shoving his fingers into your mouth. “suck.” when you did just that, suckling at his fingers while hollowing your hot, wet heat around the appendages. 

at that, he groaned. “what a little cockwhore. shoulda made you suck my dick instead.”

in retaliation, you bite his fingers, hard, and then spit them out. “i would’ve bit your micro off.”

toji hisses, grabbing the hair at your scalp and pulling on it until your face was up, his mouth at your ear. “just for that, i’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.” he speeds up, moving his hips faster and fast. the hand that wasn’t at your hair is now sneaking his way down your back, until you gasp.

because he’s inserted his thumb inside your ass.

“oh, ho ho,” he laughs mockingly. “you liked that, didn’t you?” you offer him no response, choosing instead to focus on the feeling of the sheer amount of pressure you were feeling down there, being doubly stuffed. by now, your orgasm has been steadily building because of the sheer power of toji’s stroke game, but as soon as he hits your spot one last time, your eyes roll back, causing you to arch your back and writhe due to the intensity of your orgasm.

you’re breathing heavily, toji fucking you roughly through it. once you’ve gotten a hold of your sense, you come back to reality as you realize that the crowd has adopted a rhythm to their chants, your fans and his screaming the same thing.

cum! cum! cum!

and toji only chortles as he continues your thirst, looking at you once again, and you can tell that he’s staving his orgasm back just after experiencing your clenches with the way he’s biting his lips, sweat running down from his temple to his abs. “what do you say, baby? wanna give the crowd what they’re asking for?” 

all it takes is a whimpered please, and toji just does what the crowd asks of him. ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear toji declared as winner. 

as you exhaustedly lift your head up, you see that cameras are out all around you, focused on the screen. you’re flustered when you realize the billboard is displaying toji’s cum seeping out of you.

A hand on your shoulder. “you good?” toji’s looking at you, eyes twinkling.

you let out a breath. “yea,” you laugh, out of breath. “good round.”

and he’s huffing, giving you a hand to get on your back. you can only lie on the ground as he barks for clothes to be put on you and for some water. then he turns to look at you once more, eyes twinkling. “wanna go for more in my hotel?”

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n i was going to have him carry u up near to the stands where your fans could grab at ur titties but this is alr depraved as it is. now im going to take a breather from tumblr for the rest of this week becasue WHEW ch5 gojo yesterday and finished this today i am ON A ROLL. see you guys for next week's kinktober fic (comment if you want to be tagged)! much love<3

reblog and comments are much appreciated!!!!!

taglist:

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk

[foxmonkey]

There's someone on AO3 with two pseuds. They've written 922 works (nine hundred and twenty-two!!!) under one, and 198 (one hundred and ninety-eight!!!) under the other.

1,050 works in all. One thousand, fifty. My mind is boggling.

[ceramini]

Could you do hot!sunghoonxhot!loser!reader or Jake, kinda like switching the roles btw I loved ur last drabble:3

⁺𝅄 𓊆 ❀ 𓊇 im not going to lie to you, this might be a bit more cringer than I wanted it to be (like cringe but not to much to the point it’s unreadable), but I hope you and whoever else is reading like it!! and tysm for liking the other ones ur so cute!! mwah <333

LET ME LOVE YOU ⋆˚࿔ YOU’RE NOT A FREAK

pair hot!sunghoon x nerd/loser!reader ͡ ͘◡ ꫶᳝᳜᳝᳜᳝᳜৯ tags praise kink, overstim, established relationship ✿ scene you say weird stuff when you’re nervous. and unfortunately, you’re always nervous during sex. sunghoon’s used to it by now, he’s had two years to adjust, but that doesn’t mean he’s immune to the wild shit that comes out of your mouth. ────── library ⊹ ࣪

like + reblog appreciated <3 click to join taglist

You’re already on your back when you realize it’s happening again. Your brain is short-circuiting and overcompensating with words, bad words, strange ones, the kind you’d never say if you had even an ounce of normal filter.

Sunghoon is kissing down your chest and you’re fully spiraling.

“I know this isn’t a good time,” you gasp, “but this is sort of giving, like, spiritual transcendence? Like religious ecstasy? Like Renaissance awe?”

He pauses.

Lifts his head.

And blinks up at you.

Your face is on fire.

“I didn’t mean that like a kink thing,” you say quickly. “Not like a nun thing. I just meant you’re really good at foreplay.”

He huffs out a laugh.

You throw your hands over your eyes. “I should be studied.”

Sunghoon’s smile tugs wide, amused in that quiet, understated way he always is. “You say that every time we fuck.”

“Because every time I get weirder!”

“You’re consistent. I like that about you.”

You peek between your fingers, pout forming. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m really not.”

And then he’s shifting down again, nosing along your inner thigh, his breath soft and warm where your underwear is already soaked through.

“You always talk like that when you’re nervous,” he says gently. “Like you can’t stop your brain from making everything into a weird metaphor.”

“I’m not even hot,” you mumble.

He blinks. “That’s not true.”

You shake your head. “It is.”

Sunghoon leans in and kisses the inside of your knee. “You’re not hot the way other people are. You’re hot the way you are. And I like that better.”

You melt. Completely.

“I’m—im kind of puffy too,” you say, voice shaking. “I think that’s why I always feel like I don’t know what to do. I’m not, like, porn-looking.”

Sunghoon hums. “You’re cute.”

“I’m not fine or sexy or anything—”

“I don’t want sexy.” His hands tug your panties off. “I want you.”

Your breath catches.

He kisses the top of your thigh again. “And yeah. You’re puffy. Soft. Warm. So sensitive I can barely touch her without you twitching.”

You go utterly still.

Then: “It’s honestly not fair how sweet you are to me.”

“You make it easy.”

You’re about to say something else, something dumb, probably, like “that’s a crit hit to my heart stat,” but then his tongue touches you and your whole body jerks.

“Sorry,” you whisper immediately. “Sorry, I just—nobody’s ever done it like that before—”

“Good.” He kisses you. “I want you to remember it’s me. Always me.”

You nod, breathless. “You should get an award or something. Like a Nobel Peace Prize but for making girls cry in a good way.”

He groans softly. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“You adore me.”

“I do.” His voice is almost reverent. “And this cute, shy little cunt? She loves me too.”

You squeal. “Don’t say that!”

“Why not?”

“It’s— it’s embarrassing!”

Sunghoon’s laugh is muffled as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

Your fingers curl in the sheets, your thighs tremble, and your brain refuses to stop trying to narrate the experience like it’s a podcast.

“I feel like I’m being emotionally unraveled,” you whimper. “Like a poorly woven scarf—”

Sunghoon pauses. Just long enough to lift his head and look at you.

“…A scarf?”

“A loose one!”

“You’re incredible.”

He says it with a look like he’s watching the sunrise. Like every unfiltered, loser-coded, clunky thing you say is the most endearing miracle on earth.

You cover your face again.

And he goes right back to it, tongue slow and thorough, fingers steady, kissing and sucking and working you open with such frustratingly gentle affection that by the time you’re shaking and moaning and gasping out a high, warbly, “Sunghoon, I think I see God—” you really mean it.

He lets you come once, then twice.

And when he finally pushes inside, you’re already trying not to cry.

“You okay?” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

You nod furiously. “I’m—I’m just not used to being wanted like this. I’m not used to being seen.”

Sunghoon stills for a moment.

Then he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight.

“You’re not invisible,” he murmurs. “Not with me. Never with me.”

You sob. He rocks into you gently, slow and warm and steady, like he’s trying to make a home out of the feeling.

And even when you say stuff like “You’re fucking my soul out through a celestial portal,” he just keeps kissing your temple, smiling against your skin, and whispering:

“Good. Let it all out.”

🪷 ─── @gyarumindd (join the taglist guys..)