#(first time using that tag but starting to feel like i shoulda had it for two years now)

[chevvy-yates]

WIP Wednesday

Got tagged by noone and making a new one!

But I tag: @dreamskug and @astarionhistears, @gloryride, @nervouswizardcycle, @streetkid-named-desire, @koda-shoulda-woulda-but-didnt, @robininthewoods90, @ouroboros-hideout, @wraithsoutlaws, @dustymagpie, @therealnightcity, @elvenbeard, @heywoodvirgin, @86maylin and @itzsassha – also everyone who likes to do it as always and no pressure!

Today I'm gonna talk about Thyjs on my wip as these unfinished thoughts have been sitting in my drafts for quite a while, so expect only a long text post — my mind still circles a lot about him how to portrait Thyjs the best way — mostly in writing but also in pics.

I know he looks all sweet and cute when he's together with Ryder, and I imagine he can be funny as well especially with his cute Dutch accent, but I think he definitely needs to have some negative trait too, since he's definitely 'the most sane' when it comes to uh … 'problems as a Night City citizen'? – as he's not from NC – and Europe being different than NUSA.

Since he's a soldier I think he should definitely have some form of ptsd. There is no way he doesn't have that.

The sudden loss of almost all of his squad definitely was the most traumatic event that happened to him, but also eventually led to him accepting he has to talk about that and accept and allow his emotions to come through, too.

I'm no expert (more likely a noob) when it comes to ptsd but I think losing his father two years prior made him more 'unemotional' than before as he was also drilled by Militech to be a war machine — to be strong, have less emotions to the point to shut them down. Maybe also combat stims provided to bring emotions into the background? (have to look it up).

He didn't see it happen how his father died, but he found footage later after he began to try finding out why and what really happened (Cynosure) that eventually leads to the traumatic end of his squad the more he found out. He always thought his father was indestructible. He looked up to him.

His tie with his father and mother was good, so no trauma through his childhood except when he got mobbed by other young teenage trainees for his albinism at first <- turned him into the direction: "show them you can do it nonetheless, that you can beat them in training", which led to Thyjs being one of the best soldiers in the end -> brought him to KCT and into the international spec ops team after many deployments worldwide.

So I think along his way to become a soldier and various events more or less traumatic (as he's seen a lot of death, destruction and had to kill on command, without mercy and even torture captives for information, was struck by lightning and the loss of his left forearm) he started developing some emotional numbness or psychical numbing. His affectivity went into the background (as he is not interested to form special bonds or a love relationship) and he's more distant towards the normal life as he doesn't have one (e.g. may not have spent his free time with typical army spare time activities like his other mates did. Instead he used it to train/educate himself even more). He cannot enjoy simple daily life and has to learn how to integrate again after the accident as his soldier career has ended. The loss of his future expectation lets him have no perspective at first and he feels empty inside and utterly betrayed by Militech. The army was his life.

Thanks to Ryder he is able to join the merc team and finds a new purpose (help and mostly protection of the team). Through Ryder and the others he learns to integrate himself into 'the normal' life (as I don't see merc life on the same level as soldier life). Night City is at first ofc too much for him so he often goes back out into the badlands to find some 'peace', away from the noise, time to think and breathe, process it all, grapple with all the new impressions and emotions that hail down on him. He needs some time-out once in a while to process the 'daily life' he consumes now every day as well. That may explain why he’s still a bit more distant towards Ryder/the team for a certain while as he has to learn how to get around with each of them and especially the impulsive character Ryder has until he knows him better, as he got offered to live in Ry’s flat. 

Then he discovers he slowly develops feelings for Ryder he never had felt before ever. They are subtle at first but get stronger and he accepts them eventually and starts to allow himself to show them to him. He rediscovers what feelings truly are, what joy is and how you laugh with a bright earnest smile on your lips and what it is to be in love with someone.

Last time he may have felt real and pure joy was when he was a child. As a small boy, before Militech school started, he was always obsessed over flowers and loved to draw. Now that he's a merc with having more spare time he begins to pick this up again and that's why he goes (and even asks Ryder to come with him) to art galleries and starts thinking about making art as well or just buys a bouquet of flowers he looks at for hours. Goes back to listening to classical music too. I think this is sort of his 'own' therapy choice to get back into normal life. He definitely sees a MedTech for treatment as well who may have suggested to him to just do that once they found out what Thyjs 'does enjoy'.

This will probably be super hard to write and I'll never reach that goal in perfection either but I try at least to steer it this way, be it only details or Thyjs talking about it.

Thyjs also opens fully up only to Ryder. He may be friendly to everyone (as he's learned to keep a fake 'joy' smile) and also likes everyone in the team but he only talks about his true insecurities in every detail with Ry. The rest of the team only gets a superficial version of it. That is my plan.

I always picture him more like a peripheral figure when the team enjoys e.g. a billiard play in The Afterlife. He's the one who just sits in the corner and watches rather than plays billiards. He's trained to watch the area and surroundings nonstop, so it's hard for him to let go of that fully — at least for a while.

Idk if Ry and Thy will ever argue about something. It's likely to happen but I can't think of any situation yet. I really do see them as one heart and soul and that they complete each other. Thyjs, being totally reserved, learns Ryder to be calmer while Ryder, being totally impulsive and full with all of kinds of emotions, helps Thyjs to rediscover and let out his emotions as well on top shows him how to live more normal (as merc life also is not that normal).

In fact I think everyone of my boys (except Jay maybe - maybe not, maybe he's got it too) had their own ptsd moments they have to fight with more or less each day. I don't want to analyze it entirely but thinking about it is just very interesting. But as said I'm no expert in that but I doubt there will be someone pointing their finger at me telling me "this is false what you wrote" in the end, so I spent my time with thinking about it and write down and share some bits and pieces.

Kudos if you read all this <3

—

*I've watched a video about a German former KSK (Kommando Spezialkräfte) soldier not long ago who has ptsd that came along with psychic numbing and he told a bit about what he did and still does to integrate himself into normal daily living, surround himself with people, regain his emotions (like to laugh) and for him it is working with animals as he has now four dogs. Hard to explain. But I got inspired by that and now I'm trying to figure something out for Thyjs what might be good for him to get back into a 'normal' life as he's no soldier anymore.

[the-bar-sinister]

Bound but at a Distance (1454 words) by thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 1/1 Additional Tags: Family Feels, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Post-Canon, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

The secret comes out.

-

September 29, 2028– 1:30 pm

It would have been a typical lazy Saturday at the Wright Anything Agency, except that everyone was getting ready for a wedding tomorrow that Trucy, sadly, didn't have an invitation to. Athena was out with Maya and Ema shopping for dresses, and Trucy had the run of the office with her daddy.

“I can’t believe I wasn’t invited to that wedding, daddy.” Trucy was complaining for the fourth time that morning as she flipped through the office mail. She’d pouted when she slumped in for breakfast. She’d sniffled when Maya, Athena and Ema headed out. She’d stomped through her practice routine.

She was understandably, in her own opinion, pretty upset that she was the only one getting left out of the stupid Sprocket Airship Wedding part three.

"Sorry, kiddo," Phoenix murmured as he looked over he shoulder at the letters in the inbox. "I tried, but all I got was the invite and the plus one. It's gonna be a boring party anyway– they're on the third one after all."

“But this is the first one where they don’t got an evil butler stinking the whole thing up!” Trucy flopped onto her back with a whine. “It’s got an airship, daddy! An Airship! They coulda had me an’ the bunnies do a show a mile in the air or something!”

"I already gave them your card, Trucy," he chuckled, patting her on the shoulder. "Who knows, maybe they'll call you for wedding number four. Hey– any mail from Apollo, today?"

“How many weddings can she possibly have? Save some for the rest of us, jeeze.” Trucy grumbled. She flipped through the last of the mail hopefully, and she bit her lip. “I dunno…nothin’ yet…“he’s been sending less and less lately.” 

Phoenix sighed. "He sure has, huh? Starting to feel like he's on the moon…"

Trucy’s sour feelings about not being invited to the wedding were small in comparison to the turmoil that roiled inside her when Apollo Justice was brought up. It’d been months now that he’d been gone, had promised to write, and that he’d still be a part of their lives even if he was staying in the mountains far away.

It’d been several weeks since she’d even gotten a letter. It was like he was vanishing before her eyes, and eventually it’d be months or even years, or long enough that she couldn’t remember his face. Just like with her original daddy, or her mother.

“...he might as well be,” she muttered as her shoulders started to shake. 

Phoenix put his arms around her daughter's shaking shoulders. "Hey… hey, Trucy, it's alright. He's not going to be gone forever."

Trucy sniffed, and wiped at her eyes, surprised to find that she’d already started to cry. “He’s gonna forget about us, daddy.” 

"No way, Trucy," Phoenix shook his head. "There's no way he could, you know?"

His hand searched for the tissue box on the desk, and pulled a few out, offering them to her.

Trucy snatched the tissues and pressed the whole bundle to her face. 

“He super could, daddy! I mean…I mean…he’s got a whole new life there with family an’ everything.” She sniffed. “Why’d he wanna think about us? We messed up his law career…made him clean toilets…I shoulda been nicer and not dragged into my sh-shows!” 

He stood there with his hand on her back for a long moment, and took a deep breath. "It's not like that, Trucy. Apollo… has family here too."

“N-nuh uh, daddy!” Trucy wiped her eyes with a loud sniffle. “we woulda known if he did!” 

He passed her another tissue and hesitated. "Trucy, there's something I need to tell you. I've wanted to tell you for a while, but I didn't have permission."

Trucy took the tissue with a puzzled frown as she tried to wipe her eyes and nose. 

“W…what kinda thing, Daddy?” She tilted her head to the side , and her eyes focused instinctively. Whatever this was…she didn’t want to have to catch her adopted father in a lie. 

"When I say Apollo has family here…" He began slowly. She could see how tense he'd become. "I mean you, Trucy."

Her eyes traced over him…she didn’t see any nervous twitch or tell aside from the tension, and she felt her own body tense in surprise as she took a sharp intake of breath.

“W-w-w…what?”  He had to have still been joking, even if she didn’t register a single lie. Sure, there’d been clues…they’d always been so much alike, after all. They even had the same funny little cowlicks…but, lots of people did.

It was common. 

Her daddy held her shoulder gently, but firmly, and took a breath. "He's your brother, Trucy. Your half brother."

“......” Trucy’s brow furrowed, before she felt tears burning at the back of her eyes again. “he’s…he’s…he’s my half brother? W-whatta you mean? Daddy didn’t have any other kids!” 

"Your mother did."

“....” Trucy’s world was spinning around her as her tears brimmed in the corner of her eyes. “Mommy had another kid…and it was frickin’ APOLLO JUSTICE, Daddy??? And you KNEW?” 

HIs hands flew up in defense. "Hey, hey, hey! I was sworn to secrecy, kiddo!"

“By WHO!!! Mommy’s DEAD and it’s not like Uncle Valant would care!” She pressed her hands to her face. “was it daddy? Before he got killed? Was it Apollo? Did Apollo know?? “

"Apollo doesn't know," Phoenix said. He rubbed his hands together anxiously for a moment, and then he slowly put his hands on her shoulders. "And it was your mother, Trucy. She isn't dead."

Trucy’s entire world was shaking around her. The fundamental truths of her life surrounding the many secrets and magic tricks that made up her past. ’Your mother was killed in a magic accident’ and ‘your father left you because he had to vanish after the trauma of her death and Magnifi’s grand inheritance scheme’ and ‘you have no family left except the family you made’...

They were all pulled away in one of the weirdest magic acts of her life.

“.....momma isn’t…dead…?” 

"She's not dead," he repeated. "You've met her. She swore me to secrecy."

Trucy sniffed again. 

“You’re kidding me…it…it…” she rubbed at her eyes. “It’s someone I know??”

"Kind of," Phoenix murmured. He squeezed her shoulders again, holding her close. "It's Lamiroir, Trucy. She's your and Apollo's mother. It's.. a long story."

“....Lamiroir” Trucy repeated dully. “Famous songstress Lamiroir…who sent me flowers for my big show. And she swore you to secrecy because Justitia forbid me and Apollo know we’re brother and sister.” 

She fell against her father with a squeaky, tear-muffled wail.

"Oh, kiddo…" Phoenix held her tightly, scooping her hat off her head, and leaning his cheek against her hair. "I wanted her to tell you both right away."

Trucy tried to respond, but she hiccuped and choked on her tears and held him tighter.

“B-but…but if I’d known I…he…we..” she stammered out with a wail. “I joked about marrying him to Mr. Dhurke! We PROBABLY shoulda known before that, huh?? And n-now my only brother in the world is gonna forget about me in the m-mountains, thinking I’m just an an-an…annoying co-worker!!!” 

Phoenix squeezed her. "Truce– honey, I don't think Apollo thinks of you as just an annoying coworker. Not at all. I would have told him before he left, but I only just got permission to say anything. We'll write him a letter, okay?"

“A letter??” Trucy thumped her fists against his shoulder, “daddy a letter’s not gonna cut it!!” 

He winced, and ran his fingers through her hair. "A phone call, then. Okay? Next time we can get ahold of him."

Trucy sobbed into his shoulder. “...Geeze…my brother. My-...my big brother Apollo…and momma too? I…I think I’m gonna pass out.” 

"Try to stay conscious, okay, bug?" He held her tightly. "I know it's a big shock. I'll get ahold of your mom soon and you two can have a long talk. She owes you, big time."

“Y-you can say that again!!!” Trucy sniffled. “every family I’ve ever had has vanished on me, daddy! And …and Momma owes me BIG TIME for this.”

"She sure does," he nodded. "But hey– you know I'm not going to vanish on you, right, Trucy? Not ever."

Trucy sobbed into his shoulder. 

“Y-you better not, daddy.” Her heart sank just thinking about it, and she couldn’t stop the tears anymore. “Please don’t, ever. No matter what.” 

Phoenix pulled her tight and held her while she cried. "I promise, kiddo. I promise."

[mlobsters]

supernatural s1e15 the benders (w. john shiban)

(this is a rewatch so spoilers abound)

starting off with the xf vibe in the teaser music, which this whole episode is very xfiles home (s4e2).... homage. beginning is surprisingly memorable just because it's not what i expected, i'm always stressed when a kid shows up but not this time!

also didn't realize hibbing minnesota was so far north, past duluth! i lived in the twin cities for 8 years or so. i guess donna was from hibbing, but no one lived there. but there was an episode title with hibbing in it (10x08) hence some of my confusion. anyway. to the bad humans!

(padalecki still with the crispy R on crazy. now i'm wondering if he always uses it and i just stopped noticing at some point)

so priest and state trooper, side swept bangs 📝

EVAN Godzilla Vs. Mothra. DEAN That’s my favorite Godzilla movie. It’s so much better than the original, huh? EVAN Totally. DEAN Yeah. (He nods towards SAM.) He likes the remake. EVAN Yuck!

very cute

i used this bar scene in my fanvid to texas hold 'em and that neon sign in my tennessee whiskey painting lol (though i ended up putting them mostly in front of it but you can see a lil bit)

SAM Well, there are all kinds. You know, Spring Heeled Jacks, phantom gassers. They take people anywhere, anytime.

shoulda had more monstery-monster of the week eps

SAM Right. I saw a motel about five miles back. DEAN Whoa, whoa, easy. Let’s have another round. SAM We should get an early start.

DEAN Yeah, you really know how to have fun, don’t you, Grandma? (SAM smiles.) Alright, I’ll meet you outside, I gotta take a leak.

it was cute, sam basically gave him a very nice smile to the grandma comment and dean caved. might make gifs if i remember to - i made the gifs to avoid picking this back up. also shows just rarely talk about using the bathroom, course this was a plot-related bathroom visit to get them separated, so. not sure it really falls into the masculinity tag i got going but anytime we go with a woman instead of man, gonna tag it

this music is so cliche tension danger sounding but also like, not at all matching the vibe of the show? too loud, and like a parody. ugh. i will give you one guess who it is... (gruska, of course)

DEAN Sam? Two beers and he’s doin’ karaoke. No, he wasn’t drunk. He was taken. KATHLEEN Alright. What’s his name? DEAN Winchester. Sam Winchester. KATHLEEN Like the rifle? DEAN Like the rifle.

insert something insightful about the hunters having an extremely on the nose last name :p also don't know if we ever really know what sam's tolerance is like

i 100% took screenshots of the computer screen first watch because they just copied sam's height into dean's entry :p

DEAN Officer, look, uh, he’s family. I kind of—I kind of look out for the kid. You gotta let me go with you. KATHLEEN I’m sorry, I can’t do that. DEAN Well, tell me something. Your county has its fair share of missing persons. Any of ‘em come back? Sam’s my responsibility. And he’s comin’ back. I’m bringin’ him back.

eat that right up, you know it. this episode is chock full of protective dean goodness, after sam got to do it for him in 1x12.

s1e11 / s1e15

well i'll be! same thing sammy said to meg in the bus station that got me feeling extra mushy. that also had teleplay by john shiban. thank you, sir 🫡 did a little gif comparable thing too

~1 month later~ was gonna pull up an episode of evil, which has been my go-to evening show during my spn sabbatical and i just got the itchy feeling to want to blather at length while watching something. am i ready to watch spn again?? we will see.

JENKINS Why don’t you give it up, Sammy, there’s no way out. SAM Don’t….call me….Sammy!

damn right

my vacation away and literally the first scene with music back and i'm like godDAMNIT this music is obnoxious. in case i was worried i just had a stick up my ass about it, no it really is just my immediate gut reaction

anyway, bro's off getting the most dangerous game'd to bad music. shoulda listened to sam

DEAN Hey, Officer? Look, I don’t mean to press my luck. KATHLEEN Your luck is so pressed. DEAN Right. I was wondering—why are you helping me out, anyway? Why don’t you just lock me up? KATHLEEN My brother, Riley, disappeared three years ago. A lot like Sam. We searched for him, but—nothing. I know what it’s like to feel responsible for someone, and for them—Come on. Let’s keep at it.

had this storyline happened later, could see her slotting into the jody/donna type role

the most striking eyes

DEAN I gotta start carrying paper clips.

i mean, seems like he'd have something on his person. what with their vocation needing a variety of tools for less than legal shenanigans

ok what, did dean have this headshot of sam lying around?? lol. not one in my fairly comprehensive winchester family photos post

very necessary to have him stretched out over this sheriff wagon

DEAN Sam? Are you hurt? SAM No. DEAN Damn, it’s good to see you.

<3

DEAN Have you seen ‘em? SAM Yeah. Dude, they’re just people. DEAN And they jumped you? Must be gettin’ a little rusty there, kiddo.

it's just so sweet. i am a sucker

my hot take is that jensen loves slapstick humor and puts it in at any opportunity. we're dealing with like, people-hunting-cannibals, his brother and a sheriff are locked in cages that he needs to find a key for and yet! jensen is gonna have dean turn the flashlight on in his face and have a goofy reaction. TIME AND PLACE, BROTHER

anyway. there's been a lot of the xfiles noises this episode. very on brand

i think one of the most disturbing things about this episode are the pictures with the benders are posing with the people like a big game photo. enough that i don't even wanna include a screenshot of it

i wonder how the set design of this compares to the house at the end of s1 true detective. and obviously the set for xf home. maybe i'll pull up some comparisons and see if it's worth doing A Post

i think why the game polaroids are so impactful vs this is like. this is very campy over the top. old timey music playing on the phonograph, traps and saw blades hanging from the ceiling, man making these wildly exaggerated swings with the cleaver and saw

i will admit that i saw something at a formative age that had an incredibly upsetting situation with a hot poker and so this scene also is distressing. at least it's not threatening sexual violence this time. but objectively, that's a gorgeous shot

DEAN You hurt my brother, I’ll kill you, I swear. I’ll kill you all. I will kill you all!

you know i can't resist that, eat it right up

so rare they're in short sleeves, has to be an even smaller number of times they fight someone in them

so beautiful. she was really good in this part

DEAN Never do that again. SAM Do what? DEAN Go missin’ like that. (SAM laughs.) SAM You were worried about me. DEAN All I’m sayin’ is, you vanish like that again, I’m not lookin’ for ya. SAM Sure, you won’t. DEAN I’m not. (SAM chuckles.) SAM So, you got sidelined by a thirteen-year-old girl, huh? DEAN Oh, shut up. SAM Just sayin’, gettin’ rusty there, kiddo. DEAN (chuckling) Shut up. (SAM laughs.)

i didn't remember that last little bit, that was extra cute. i will be making more gifs 😩

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

~ Five minutes later~

... Gordon sees Henry for the first time

[tobiokuns]

— surprise pregnancy with haikyuu boys

summary: you hadn’t planned for this to happen. neither of you had. but it had, and now you had to tell him.

characters: kageyama tobio, miya atsumu, akaashi keiji

tags: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, some humor, brief mention of abortion, implied body image insecurities, happy ending

— kageyama tobio

you wring your hands as you lean against the doorjamb, anxiously waiting for kageyama to come home. he’d had a long week, you know, but your first appointment with your doctor is on monday, and you think he’d like to be there if possible. at least, you’d put it off long enough.

the click of the lock unlatching and the familiar turn of the knob raises your attention. you feel like you’re going to choke under the pressure, and even seeing his face doesn’t calm you down.

if anything, you’re even more nervous, seeing the sweat on his brow.

“tobio—” you call over to him when he walks through the door, before you lose your nerve, “i’m pregnant.”

there’s a terse silence, even though kageyama just looks confused. your boyfriend blinks once, twice, and scrunches his eyebrows like he always does when he’s thinking hard, and just stares. your heart pounds in your chest.

“...but i just signed onto a new team,” he says, finally.

you make a sound of affirmation. “yeah, i know,” you sigh, smiling tightly, “but we can make it work, right?”

he kinda looks like he does when he’s setting, in deep concentration, kind of unhappy. you wait for him to say something, anything, but the silence stretches on, for so long that you think you’ll have a heart attack.

“my first doctor’s appointment is on monday,” you tell him, trying to nudge him into saying something, “do you want to come with me?”

“i can’t, i have practice,” he blurts out almost automatically, and you nod. of course he does. it’s silent for a while, and then he’s speaking again. “can’t you...” he swallows, looking away, “...not have the baby?”

don’t lose your shit, you tell yourself, don’t lose your shit. you tamp down the growing anger and nod again, making another vague humming noise.

“yeah, i could,” you agree, voice eerily quiet, “but i want the baby, tobio.”

“okay,” he nods, “...do what you want, then.” 

your heart drops. you can’t see his face, not with his bangs covering his eyes, but you stare at him for a while anyway, your own eyes stinging. you silently shuffle back into the house, leaving him standing in the doorway.

it’s awkward when he slips into bed that night. you keep your back to him, but you can almost feel his gaze on the ceiling. you don’t know when he sleeps, or if he ever does. by the time you wake up, he’s wrapped around you, leg thrown over yours, his big hand rubbing over your still flat stomach under your shirt.

he jolts awake as soon as you stir, dropping his lips against your neck and nuzzling you.

“i’m sorry about last night,” he murmurs immediately, and you’re sure he’s pouting. “y-you caught me off guard. i want it. the... the baby. with you.”

you sigh, staring at the wall opposite from you. you think of having to move again, back to japan this time. you thought that would be good for you and kageyama, but his reaction last night...

“are you sure?” you ask, covering his hand with yours, missing some of the bravado you had, “we can...”

“no,” he sounds almost childish, and you smile, wondering how he’ll be as a father, “no, i’m—i’m sure.”

his arms tighten around you. it’s not often that you get to cuddle in the morning with kageyama, not when he’s always going for jogs and volleyball practice. so you lean back, telling yourself that everything will be just fine.

— miya atsumu

“y’know, y/n...” your boyfriend says to you one day, “yer gettin’ kinda... like, fat...”

you whip your head around to stare at him, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. he cowers instinctively, waiting for you to hit him like you usually do, but your arm stops midair before you let it drop. 

you wanted to hide this a little longer, because to be honest, you were scared. scared of his reaction, scared he wouldn’t want you, scared you’d be left alone. but you sigh, knowing you couldn’t anymore, and slump against the couch.

“atsumu...” you lower your voice, and instantly he cowers more.

“i‘m sorry! i didn’t mean it like that!” he yells, hands covering his face, “don’t hit me, i’m beggin—”

“no, atsumu,” you sigh, taking his hands into yours, “listen to me.”

he sees how serious your expression is and quiets down, bowing his head and leaning closer to you. the idiot still probably thinks you’re mad because he called you fat, you think. you would’ve laughed if you didn’t feel like puking at this moment.

“i’m pregnant,” you say, taking a deep breath, “we’re gonna have a baby.”

“hah?” he retorts quickly, “we’re what? no, we’re not.”

you watch as his face changes, and then he’s off again. “no, y/n, ya can’t be pregnant. i can’t be a dad. have ya met me? samu doesn’t even have a kid yet, ‘nd that’s like, the one thing i don’t wanna beat him at and— goddammit, i shoulda used condoms—”

 “atsumu,” you almost scream, the panic bubbling up in your chest, “do you not want to do this with me?”

“but, weren’t ya on the pill or somethin’? how could this happen?” he acts as if he hadn’t heard your question,” y/n, are ya sure it’s min—”

you can’t take it anymore and burst out crying. you don’t even pay attention to the fact that he just accused you of cheating. the stress from the weeks of keeping this to yourself explodes and you sob loudly, louder than atsumu’s panicked rambling.

“shit—” he curses, seeing your tears, and quickly taking your hands into his, “y/n, ’m sorry, i—it’s just—i’m gonna be a horrible dad, ya know? i don’t know if i can do this, it’s like... i’m not very reliable ‘nd ma always said—”

“but,” you sniffle through your tears, “aren’t we doing this together?”

he nods slowly, and then moves to rest his head on your chest. he tentatively puts a hand on your stomach, rubbing his index finger over it as if it were foreign to him.

“yeah,” he agrees quietly, “we’re doing this together.”

— akaashi keiji

you knew akaashi hadn’t wanted a child, not yet at least. you knew that, and yet when he said okay the night you told him you were pregnant, you were naive enough to think that it was actually okay.

he works, all the time, very hard. it only made sense, he had told you he needed to, in order to get to where he wanted to be. but it left you many nights, belly and feet swollen, joints aching, alone on the couch, wondering what you were doing.

did you eat your vitamins? he asks softly every morning without fail. but that was it.

you went to doctor’s appointments alone, you shopped for baby clothes alone, and you stared at the empty four walls of the baby’s room alone. you were too afraid to buy furniture for it: it seemed too permanent, especially when being pregnant seemed like a repressed dream every day.

"keiji, ” you call out to him early one morning, before he can leave for work again, “...let’s not have the baby.”

he doesn’t respond and for a moment you can’t even tell if he heard you. but then he’s whipping his head around, as if he had just realized what you said, and scrambles to kneel at your side.

“what’s wrong?” he places a hand on your belly, right beside yours, like he never had, “are you feeling—”

“you’re never here!” you cry, wincing at your own screech, “i don’t want to do this alone, keiji. i can’t do this alone. the baby started kicking yesterday, you know? and you weren’t there. i didn’t even know what to do. i’m not gonna know what to do. god, we need a crib and a c-changing table, and—”

you stop when he lays his head down on your lap. 

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles faintly, his hot breath seeping through your shirt. the kitchen is silent with your sniffles. you’re so tired, from the pregnancy or everything else, but you tangle your fingers in akaashi’s hair, and it brings you just an ounce of comfort. it’s soft as always, just like it was when you had started dating.

“i’m sorry,” he says again, turning his head to the side to face you, letting your fingers drift over his cheek, “i was taking on more work, to save money for... for the baby. i hadn’t— ...i didn’t realize i was neglecting you, y/n.” 

 you look down, “y-you were what?” 

 “i took on a new author,” he tells you, “and i asked around for some freelance work. i think we’re okay financially, but you never know, so i thought it’d be good to have extra—”

“keiji,” you interrupt, voice scratchy, “were you nervous?” 

“well, yes,” he admits, leaning into your palm, “but that’s no excuse for leaving you all alone. i can drop the freelance, maybe move most of my work back home—” 

you smile, the familiar sound of akaashi overthinking things a buzz in your ears. you brush your thumb over the wrinkles between his eyebrows, tracing the lines on his face, recognizing the way his eyes tighten when he’s serious. he looks up at you. 

“do you want to come to the doctor’s with me on thursday?” you sniffle softly, smiling at him. 

“...yes,” he nods, almost like a reflex, but you can see him thinking again, his stare blanking. you reach down to intertwine your fingers with his, placing them over your belly. the focus returns to his eyes and he looks reassured, finally smiling back at you. 

“yes,” he repeats, “i’ll come with you.”

[meltwonu]

54. “We have to be quiet.”

59. “Wow, i didn’t realize you were that…flexible.”

notes; fratboy!scoups, fratboy!seokmin, threesome, drunk fucking, dirty talk, cum eating, fingering, sloppy seconds 🤠 ayeehaw!! Also I rly hope you meant like both of them and not pick one of them bc I wasn’t sure so I just did both??? Lmao 😭 dfkjhdkjh I don't think anyone will complain about THAT but yknow how it is ☠️ also this made me just think of GoSe the tag eps when cheol was like, sacrificing himself for seokmin 😩💕 Except not scary LOL Anyway, as always thank you for requesting! Enjoy! 💕

“We have to be quiet.”

Seungcheol grins at Seokmin who’s already clearly past his drinking limit, a slight scoff under his breath at the younger male’s slurred words. “Quiet? I don’t think anyone is going to care about what’s going on up here with that loud of a party downstairs.”

“But hyuuuuung, the walls are thin ‘n I’m shy...”

“Okay, now I know you’re drunk ‘cause now you’re just lying.” 

You giggle in agreement, tugging on both of their arms towards the bed. “God, will you both shut up and fuck me already? I’m so fucking wet, I can’t stand it.” There’s a whine at the end of your words and the slight movement of you rubbing your thighs doesn’t go unnoticed by Seungcheol’s sharp eyes.

“So fuckin’ impatient. I bet you would’ve fucked Seokmin in the kitchen, had I not stepped in.” You flop onto your back onto Seungcheol’s large bed; legs spread and soaked panties on full display when your skirt bunches up.

“That’s the thing, I would’ve. I was so close to getting what I wanted. Seokmin’s fingers were fucking me sooo good, I was so close to cumming ‘til you walked in.”

Seokmin stares at you through bleary eyes, joining you on the cold bed sheets. “But now you have us both, princess. Now you’ll really be satisfied, huh? Taking both of our cocks tonight.” His eyes are unfocused as he starts to strip and Seungcheol is quick to rest against the headboard of his bed as he watches you and Seokmin for the time being.

“Give me a show and then I’ll fuck your pretty ‘lil cunt too. I know how long Seokmin’s been waiting so he can fuck you first.”

Nodding, you start to strip yourself of your clothes; tossing them into a pile on the floor with Seokmin’s own discarded garments. “Mmh, I could feel how hard Seokmin’s cock was getting when he was rubbing against me in the kitchen. And his fingers were spreading me open so fuckin’ good, I felt so full.” You moan, laying on your back and spreading your legs again for Seokmin who immediately situates himself in between.

“Shoulda just slid your panties to the side and fucked you right there.” He wraps a hand around his cock, moaning and spreading the precum down his shaft.

“Hmm, but now you get to fuck her like this, Seokmin. Naked, with her pretty legs spread just for you.”

A dreamy smile eases its way onto Seokmin’s lips when he looks down at you; watching as you run your fingers through your soaked folds. “Think I still need to prep you, princess?”

“No, I need you to fuck me now!” You hold yourself open for Seokmin, letting him see just how ready and wet you were for him. He licks his lips, unwrapping the hard around his cock as he grips your thighs and maneuvers you into a mating press instead.

The air is knocked out of you as soon as you’re bent over and Seokmin shoots you an inebriated grin when he sees the lust pooling in your eyes. The only thing you can hear is how loud your heart is beating and Seungcheol’s low whistle in the background.

“Wow, I didn’t realize you were that… flexible. Remind me to get you into some different positions next time we’re together, huh?”

You open your mouth to comment but instead, only a moan falls from your lips when Seokmin starts to slowly sink his cock into you. And in this position, Seokmin has all the control when he starts a quick pace.

His thrusts are erratic from the get-go, but at the angle he fucks you in, the head of his cock slams into your g-spot with each snap of his hips.

“O-oh, fuck, Seokmin! Fucking me, ah, so--so good and d-deep!”

Seungcheol watches in a haze as Seokmin fucks you into his bed sheets; a hard wrapped around his leaking cock as he jerks himself off. “You look so pretty taking his cock like that, sweetheart.” A guttural moan falls from his lips at the thought of fucking you after Seokmin, knowing you’d be full of cum. “Fuck, your pretty cunt is gonna be so fuckin’ filled with cum. I’m gonna fuck it deep inside you, get you nice ‘n messy once he’s done.”

You can’t help but clamp down hard onto Seokmin’s cock and he whines in return; hips stuttering at how good you feel around him. “S-shit… I’m not gonna last long, princess. You feel too fuckin’ good.”

“T-that’s okay… We have all, mmh, night, r-right?”

“That’s right, sweetheart. We’re gonna fuck you as many times as you want ‘til you’re satisfied.”

Seokmin’s head is already fuzzy from all the alcohol and he feels himself already too close to cumming to even slow himself down. “God, yes, fuck! Gonna cum inside of your pussy as many times as you fuckin’ want ‘n ‘m gonna fuck you in every position you want too.”

The mental images he conjures up is too much for Seokmin as he cums without warning; hips stuttering and thrusts becoming even more erratic as he unloads all of his cum inside of you.

The warmth that floods your body from him cumming and the feeling of his cock throbbing inside of you is enough to make you whine and crave more as you squirm underneath him. “F-fuck, Seokmin, you’re c-cumming so m-much…”

Seokmin’s eyes flutter shut as he throws his head back; letting the pleasure wash over his body until his movements come to a complete halt.

His entire body is buzzing with the post-orgasmic bliss and even when he starts to let you down from your folded position, he can still feel the remnants of his orgasm working through his body.

“Shit, Seungcheol-hyung, she’s so fucking warm and wet around my cock…” It takes a moment before Seokmin slides his cock from inside you; moaning at the feeling. “Think we can both fit inside her pussy?” A shiver rolls down your spine at the thought of them filling you at the same time and you find yourself clenching around emptiness as your body craves what rolls off of Seokmin’s tongue.

Seungcheol smirks as he slowly makes his way over to you and Seokmin, “Hmm, judging by the look on her face, she wants that too. But we have all night, don’t we? We’ll fuck her pretty ‘lil hole and get her nice ‘n ready to take both of our cocks at the same time.”

“Fuh--fuck, please…” Whining, you squirm and shake your hips as Seokmin moves from between your legs and Seungcheol replaces him. Cum drips from your entrance and Seungcheol is quick to position the head of his cock at your entrance to prevent any more from spilling out.

He slowly eases his cock in, meeting no resistance with Seokmin’s warm cum still inside of you. “God, you feel so fuckin’ good with Seokmin’s cum inside your pussy. So fuckin’ wet. Bet he’d like to fuck you again after I’ve cum inside you too, sweetheart~” 

With each sharp snap of his hips, more of Seokmin’s cum is pushed out of you and Seungcheol has his hazy eyes focused on his cock that’s covered with a mixture of your wetness and Seokmin’s cum when he pulls out. 

“Se--Seungcheol, please… wanna c-cum too…” 

You definitely weren’t as drunk as Seokmin, but admittedly, the alcohol in your system combined with the earlier foreplay in the kitchen already had your body extremely sensitive. “Please, please, please…!”

Seokmin leans over your side, fingertips ghosting down your body as Seungcheol starts a moderately quick pace himself. “So greedy to cum right now but we have alllll night, princess~” You let out a sharp whine when the pads of Seokmin’s fingers are on your clit rubbing and pinching the sensitive nub.

“O-oh god, oh fuck, Seungcheol, pl--please, ngh, cum inside of m-me! H-hurry, I want i-it!” Your eyes flutter shut as you focus on the feeling of Seungcheol’s cock slamming into your g-spot and it isn’t long before his thrusts become erratic as well.

You feel Seokmin’s fingers leave your clit only to move downward until they’re pressed right up against the side of Seungcheol’s cock.

“How about we give you a taste, hmm, princess?”

The older male slows his movements down to a full stop as he watches Seokmin ease a finger into your pussy; watching as your lips part in a silent moan. Your back bows off of the bed as you get used to the even fuller feeling and it only takes you a few choked breaths before you’re begging Seokmin to add in another finger next to Seungcheol’s cock.

Seokmin licks his lips as he keeps his middle and index fingers snug against Seungcheol’s cock, nodding to the older male to resume fucking you.

“Oh, fuck, she feels even tighter with your fingers inside of her now too.” Seungcheol throws his head back as he starts fucking you slowly this time; letting you get used to the combination of his cock and Seokmin’s fingers inside of your tight cunt.

“‘M gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum, I--I c-can’t--fuck, ‘m gonna c-cum!”

All you can manage is a choked sob as you cum around Seungcheol’s cock and Seokmin’s fingers; already feeling too good and too full to stop yourself. Your walls flutter around them both as you cry out their names and Seungcheol finds himself following suit as he cums inside of you.

“Fuck, I can feel her clamping down on my fingers and I can feel hyung’s cock throbbing too…” Seokmin wiggles his fingers as you whine and try to fuck yourself onto them.

“God, it feels---feels so good, ‘m suh--so full…”

The three of you fall into a comfortable silence; only the sounds of muffled music from downstairs filling in the otherwise quiet bedroom.

It takes a while for you and Seungcheol to come down from your highs and it’s Seokmin who slowly starts to pull his fingers out of you first. His digits are covered in a mixture of his and Seungcheol’s cum, sticky and wet when he brings the soaked fingers to your lips.

You welcome them into your mouth as you lick the cum off; moaning and clenching around Seungcheol’s sensitive cock as he grimaces at the slight overstimulation when you repeat the action. He slowly starts to ease his cock out of you, globs of cum spilling out almost immediately.

“God, look at you. Already so full, how are you gonna take any more, huh, sweetheart?”

Seokmin reaches a hand down, scooping more of their combined cum and bringing it to his own lips as he licks off the salty substance. He holds it in his mouth, leaning over you and kissing you square on the lips before his tongue is pushing the cum from his mouth to yours.

When he pulls away, a thread of cum and spit connect your lips to his as you drunkenly grin up at Seokmin before responding to Seungcheol.

“Guess you’ll both just have to keep fucking me to find out, huh?”

[circular-time]

#so she might at least have tried to moderate that and answer questions about her past while hiding her present

i hadnt put it together like this but yeah oh thats exactly what shes doing! trying to offer yaz some insight in past concerns while still hiding new concerns (not like shes been doing such a great job talking about past concerns but the intention was there :P) which is obviously not what yaz wants like, yeah she wants to know about what was up but she also just wants the doctor to trust her with all things i think

and your tags about men writing relationships between women are on point too but im also like. why would they be good at that you know? like i think it's fine if men cant write relationships between women super well, just let women write! asdhkfjh just get a woman to write! (im still of the opinion that not having a female showrunner for the first female doctor was a big missed opportunity. like im very happy with what chibnall has done but that choice just doesnt make sense to me at all)

On the one hand YES YES YES RACHEL TALALAY SHOULDA BEEN SHOWRUNNER ARGH or at least more female writers to write/edit this.

But on the other hand I don't wanna let Chibs off the hook for using Jack and Dan (and even Ryan) to tell Thirteen and Yaz how they feel and act as catalysts for their relationship arc.

I started writing this about 6am and it somehow turned into one of my LONG POST IS LONG essays with lots of thinky thoughts, so... SPOILERS to Eve of the Daleks, and...

See, female writers write male characters broships and relationships all the time, and we don't think twice about it. Aside from fanfic, if you look at any genre, from mystery to SF, there's some pretty notable guy-guy friendships and teams written by female authors from Bunter and Peter Wimsey in Dorothy Sayers to Kirk, Spock and McCoy in ten jillion official Star Trek novels including (especially!) those penned by @dduane .

It's like how little girls grow up learning to identify with and empathize with male protagonists from Christopher Robin and Frodo to Luke Skywalker and Captain America, but there's still a lot of people — even folks we like such as Peter Davison — who don't realize the limitation they place on boys or the ramifications it has for society down the road by saying they need male role models because (obviously) they can't identify with a female protagonist such as the Thirteenth Doctor.

I dunno. I didn't watch the Marvel movies (gasp), but was there a female character stepping in all the time to moderate the relationship and facilitate communications between Steve and Bucky? Seems like that wouldn't be necessary to play out that kind of drama.

I'm happy that Yaz's crush on the Doctor isn't subtext and is being written as Just A Thing That Happens, never mind they're both women, she's had a crush for a long time, obviously, and the Doctor's very fond of her but It's Complicated (tm), and that's good drama. I really did cry when Yaz cried and said "what am I gonna do, Dan?" because bloody hell, we've been there, and okay it's even more of a mess because the Doctor is an alien who is hiding even her NAME, but that particular cry of distress parallels the experience of a queer person (a) realizing they're queer and (b) not wanting to destroy a great friendship when you don't know whether your friend would be freaked out by finding out their same-sex BFF has a crush on them. Because there's no going back when you say it, and that is always a danger.

THAT is real, and I commend Chibs for writing that bit of gay angst 500% spot on.

And I love the character of Dan. I can see why everyone was excited about John Bishop. I wish it had been a different season he came aboard, not during the only season we'll probably EVER get that had the the opportunity to explore a friendship/BFFship/somethingship between two women (why is that so, so, SO RARE in media, rarer than a transit of Venus in SF?) but given that Chibs is a limited writer who wants to be more inclusive but seems most comfortable writing female protagonists who are as repressed and uncommunicative and antisocial as a lot of male nerds 😉 Dan may have been the best way to get over the writer's block he seemed to be having in getting Yaz and the Doc to (gasp) actually COMMUNICATE. Except they still haven't. But there's at least some overtures on the Doctor's part, so maybe she'll say a few things five seconds before regenerating.

I'm okay with an f/f ship in canon that's doomed and doesn't play out. That happens with the m/f ships with the Doctor as well: it's a side effect of the Doctor hanging out with a species with such a short lifespan and different life experiences who can only see a few facets of them. As long as it plays out in a way that's true to character, and so far, it has. I hope the Doctor and Yaz will finally, FINALLY talk. And I hope Chibs can find a way to let Yaz get out of this ALIVE having become the person she wants to be, instead of having her whole life ruined by or changed in tragic ways by the Doctor, which seems to be the default companion exit of new who. That's one thing I liked about classic Who, that companions found themselves by traveling with the Doctor and made a better life with what they'd learned through their adventures, rather than becoming sucked into the Doctor's orbit like a planet getting too close to its star and getting burned/damaged/torn apart/violently flung away. Chibs gave Ryan and Graham a classic Who ending, and signs point to him intending to do the same for Yaz, so I have hope.

Which just leaves us with a big juicy question mark of bittersweet angst over how much more Thasmin we'll get before the end of all this. Because it's not the ONLY thing we want out of Jodie's last two eps, despite the fact we've been waiting for it so long. We want Thirteen (and Yaz!) to be heroic and wonderful characters and have a few more good times and great adventures before the end. This is just an added layer that's gonna make Jodie's departure hit us even harder than it would've already, despite her Doctor really being A Bit of an Asshole sometimes behind all the fun and and curiosity and mad delight and courage and feral daft Doctor-ishness.

... All of which is just my own biased opinion, obviously.

[zirkkun]

❤️ULR Speed Date Event Results - Part 5/5!💙

And, very unsurprisingly, Ace is in first place for the amount of submissions he received, that being 82! Due to the fact that there was so many submissions, he has a lot more I debated between (and even though one of these was a joke response... it was still pretty story worthy):

❤️ Ary 💙 dragon anon ❤️ din 💙 Vee ❤️ Yours~ 💙 ya know, nyah :3c ❤️ Chaomingo 💙 Lilianna ❤️ Orly

And last but not least is the winner of Ace’s date will be revealed. You can read the date either under read more or on AO3!

🖤--✨--❤️

Undertale (c) Toby Fox Underlust by @/nsfwshamecave Underlust Reimagine by myself

Thank you for your support, but do remember to support and read Underlust (18+) if you can!

ulr masterpost || ulr main tag || ulr ask box || ulr comic beginning || kofi?

... the anon who submitted under the name Lilianna!

❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙

Sans still didn't want to be a part of this. He didn't want to be doing this at all. But, unfortunately, his brother wouldn't take "hell no" for an answer. So now he was stuck on a date. With a human, no less. Oh joy. Despite the fact that living on the Surface was so saught after, he really wasn't finding it to be appealing.

At least, for the start of this, he was by himself. Maybe a long time ago, he would have been bothered by someone being late to an event like this, but for now, he was indulging in the silence.

She, Sans's date, decided that she wanted to meet at this park outside of the city, late at night, for a chance to watch the stars. Frankly, he didn't really care one way or another. But, he did eventually find himself standing at the ledge of a bridge, watching the stars twinkling in their reflection on a river. That and the dead silence, only bug noises chirping here and there; was shockingly more relaxing than Sans had anticipated it would be.

"There you are! Sorry I'm late!!"

And the relaxation was cut short. Oh well. Not that he didn't expect that.

Sans turned his attention towards the direction of the voice, spotting the human running up to him as fast as she could. Panting as she caught up to him on the bridge, she exclaimed, "I'm so, so sorry, things were backed up getting out of the city and --"

"i don't really care," Sans cut in. He turned his attention back to the river.

The human, a little taken aback, tried to brush over the harsh comment. She took a step towards the edge of bridge, holding on to the railing with a tight grip. The silence echoed in the park once more, but for the human, this was more awkward than anything else. She didn't really know what to say... is there a topic she knew offhand he'd be willing to discuss? Um... no, not really. 

"hey."

Oh! He said something first! "Yeah?" the human responded.

"do you think a fall from this height into the river would kill me?"

A brief moment of silence. It held both shock and interest from each halves of the conversation.

"What -- I don't know?! I don't really want to know!! That sounds painful regardless and I really don't want to find out!!"

But Sans just laughed at her sudden panic. "relax. i was joking."

"Th... that's a bit of a dark joke, don't you think?"

He shrugged. "It happens." He didn't elaborate, leaving the silence to once again consume the conversation into nothing. The human shifted uncomfortably where she stood.

She debated back and forth on another topic to talk about. Anything to ease the tension -- especially since it got worse with his topic of choice.

"Um... so, on that form thing, you asked me about stuff I like to do... but what about stuff you like to do?" she prompted, hoping it wouldn't be another dark joke response.

"hm." Sans pondered the question for a while, not really knowing what to say. When's the last time he did something he liked doing? Probably when he was working with the other Royal Scientists. Which was over ten years ago. "i dunno," he answered instead. "haven't done anything just 'cause in a long time."

"Oh." The human frowned. "Well, maybe we could do something together sometime then, and you can find a new hobby? Only if you'd like, of course."

Sans raised a brow as he flicked his gaze to her. "like what?"

"Oh, um... well, I like to bake, draw, and read... but those are all pretty boring so maybe not those..." she responded sheepishly.

Sans didn't react negatively, but he wasn't exactly enthusiastic either. He's practically read every book from the Underground cover-to-cover with how much time he's had on his hands, and his drawing skills were... not to be admired. And Papyrus has always been on his case to eat more. So... "i dunno, baking?" he blurted.

The human blinked. "As in, you'd want to do some baking together?"

"yeah, sure, whatever."

"You really don't sound all that interested."

"i'm not interested in most things, what's your point?"

The human shuffled back into silence for a brief while as she herself started to stare at the river, her eyes trailing down the reflection until they met the sky, full of crystal-clear stars. "You don't have to if you don't want to," she added. "I know you're already... not super excited about this current date, so please don't feel like you have to force yourself further."

Ah. There it was. The same kind of consideration that made him pick this person over everyone else in the first place. Some people had acknowledged him not wanting to deal with this, but their responses were things like, "Then why be here?" which only irked him enough to toss them aside. Some disacknowledged it, which he prefered, but something about when she said... "You seem like you don't want to do this anyways, which is all good," really hit him in a way he didn't expect.

Sans, however, did not even consider responding out loud, and instead just pulled his scarf up tighter on his face. Sans? Being honest and clear with his emotions? Haha. How funny. Easier to just push them aside. A void of feeling is much easier to deal with.

Well, he did give a sort of grunt of acknowledgment to her comment. But... it was really far after she'd said anything. So she thought he was prompting something new.

"What's that?" she asked.

"nothing."

"Then...?" But the human just shook her head. Maybe talk about something else. "You know..." She'd started a sentence, but didn't actually have anything to say. In a frantic moment to try and finish what she'd started, she said, "Time is a precious thing, isn't it?"

There was a pause.

"what'd'ya mean?" Sans asked.

"We only get so much of it. It's so limited and can be taken from us in a second."

"... yeah, and?"

"I just... I like spending time with people," she finalized. "There's only so much time I have available, and I want to be able to spend as much of it as I can with people I care about and doing things I've wanted to do. Thinking about it all is a bit scary sometimes..."

Sans debated the crass comment of "so what you're saying is i should leave and do something i'd rather be doing," but he figured now was not the time for something like that. He waited a moment to see if the human had more to say about the topic, but when she didn't, he decided to jump in with his own response. "worrying about what you might lose out on is kinda pointless," he said bluntly. "sometimes shit ain't gonna work out, and you'll miss out on something you'd have rather wanted. sometimes people are taken away from you when you least expect it and you're left wondering if you did enough for them or with them. but it's not the end of the world. you've gotta just work with what you're dealt with."

The human didn't expect such a long, nor deep, reply from him, and was a little taken aback by it. While these may have been things said before, or maybe she'd even considered them, it was different to hear them coming from someone who two seconds ago wanted to jump off the bridge. Frankly... does that mean she should take his words with a grain of salt, or...?

"sorry," Sans blurted. "said more than i shoulda."

"Wh -- n-no, don't worry about that!! I just... didn't expect you to have a lot to say on the topic. Or, I guess, to really reply lengthy at all. But it's okay! I'm glad you let me hear your thoughts."

He pulled his scarf tighter as he grunted a response, staring still at the reflection in the river.

[harryhandstan]

This is my contribution to @meetmeinfleetwood​‘s “to lovers” fic challenge! I chose the trope roommates to lovers and the prompt “I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.” This was fun to write thank you for allowing me to participate!

Thank you to my beta readers @tbslenthusiast​, @witch-harry​, and @sunflowers-styles​! Y’all are the best!!

no warnings that I can think of other than alcohol tw // bc of the wine they share!

word count: 2.3k

writing tag | masterlist

It’s 5:45 p.m. when you finally leave work for the day. You should’ve just said to hell with it and went home at 5:30 like you were supposed to, but you were nice enough not to. Too nice you’d been told in the past, but it’s a flaw you’re willing to accept if it gets you a promotion to the position you ultimately dreamed of working when you started there 3 years ago.

After a quick stop to grab a bottle of wine (or two), your car can’t get you home fast enough. It’s Friday and you’re looking forward to spending time doing absolutely nothing for the next two days but curling up in a blanket and watching Christmas movies in the apartment you will essentially be alone in. Your roommate Harry shared the space with you, but kept to himself for the most part. Aside from dinners and movie nights on rare occasions when your schedule lined up, allowing you to spend the evening together.

As if your thoughts summoned him, your phone dinged, indicating a new message. Your eyes dart down to where it sits in the passenger seat, careful to keep your eyes on the car in front of you, waiting patiently for the light to turn red so you can grab your phone to respond.

It’s one simple word, “Home?” so you know he’s either still working or on his own drive home. 

Your reply is just as direct, “Not yet. On my way! Movie night?” 

The light’s green again so you tuck your phone back into your purse, ignoring the next ding until you arrive home. You’re through the door of your apartment and down the hall before you read his message, “Sure. Chinese or pizza?” 

“Chinese! I’ll pick the movie and you pay for dinner?”

“That doesn’t sound fair :(”

“Alright fine, you get home before I’m out of the shower and in my pajamas you can pick the movie..deal?”

“Deal!”

The race is on then, both of you competitive and determined to win. You have a movie in mind that you’ve been dying to watch all day and you don’t want to have to rock-paper-scissors to break the tie like you usually do when the two of you don’t agree on who wins  these little games. 

You’d already shed most of your layers of clothing easily as you moved through the apartment; your boots kicked off by the door, jacket gone and thrown over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, cardigan pulled from your body and tossed on the bed by the time you made it to your bedroom. It doesn’t take long to strip the rest away and to gather a set of pajamas from your well organized drawer before darting across the hall to the shared bathroom.

You know you have at minimum 45 minutes to be done, an hour if he goes to the better Chinese place a little further across town, which he most likely would. You’d been dreaming of ending your week with a bubble bath, but you don’t take the chance now, just hop under the hot spray of the shower, hoping it will have the same relaxing effect. Your eyes are closed as you tilt your head back to wet your hair while one hand fumbles over the bottles to find your shampoo. 

Eyes still closed, you tip the bottle to add a bit to your hand, but you freeze when you open your eyes temporarily to close the bottle and put it back on the shelf. It’s Harry’s shampoo you’ve grabbed instead and for a moment you don’t know what to do. You don’t know how many times you’ve teased him about how expensive his products are. But he would never let you hear the end of it if he came home and you smelled like him. Ultimately you would’ve felt too guilty to waste it, so you work it through and hope he never finds out. Pray that the act washes away just like the suds do when you rinse them from your hair. 

By your hopeful calculations, you still have about 10 minutes left before he arrives by the time you're done in the shower. You decide to give him a fair advantage, venturing into the kitchen to decide which bottle of wine would pair best with dinner. When you make your selection, you pour yourself a glass, settling into a comfy spot on the couch. The black remote taunts you from the small wooden coffee, and you grab it. No harm in getting the movie ready while you wait, right?

You’re 2 glasses deep and 20 minutes into the movie when he arrives, a smirk on his face at the sight of you. Your eyes go wide when you see him. You’re not sure why, there had been many nights he’d found you in the same position, but tonight feels different. You gulp down the sip of wine, too tipsy and unaware that you’re staring. Had his dimples always been that prominent when he smiled? Even without your glasses you could spot that grin that stretched a mile wide across his face.

“Haroldddd..you’re home!”

He hated that nickname, had always despised when other people called him that, but falling from your lips it sounds like a prayer and he would gladly change his name to that if he thought it would make you the least bit happy.

“S’pose I lost, huh? Got the food pretty quickly but stopped to get this,” He holds up a bottle of wine, ironically the very same kind that you’re drinking now, “Shoulda known y’would already have some!”

“Oh good, you got some for yourself..this one’s almost empty..”

“M’not that late, am I?” He chuckles as he makes his way to the counter, looking between you and the bottle.

“Hey..it’s a small bottle! This is only my third glass and I’ve barely even touched it.”

“Rough day?” He’s pulling plates down now and retrieving a glass for himself from the cabinet.

“Rough week. Rough few weeks, really.” You take a few more sips as you watch him prepare a plate of food. You figure he’s just making his own, and you wait patiently for him to finish so you won’t be in the way. But when he makes his way around the counter, he’s holding two plates in his hand and wow you want to jump from your spot and kiss him. You restrain yourself, as hard as it may be, and try to focus on the question he’s asking you.

He holds the plates towards the table and then towards where you sit on the couch, silently wanting to know where you’d prefer to enjoy your meal. You pat the spot next to you, inviting him to move closer, knowing how much effort it would take to lift yourself from your warm, comfy spot to go eat at the table.

“Emily still on vacation?” 

“Yes! And she expects us to do double the work while she’s gone! It’s her 3rd vacation this year. I know she’s the boss but..”

“Doesn’t mean she has to be a bitch to you.” He finishes your sentence for you, brow furrowed, upset at even the idea of someone mistreating you in the slightest. 

“Right! Thank you!” 

You hold your hand out to accept the plate he’s made for you, “Got our usual, hope that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I was just joking earlier about you paying for all of it. I’ll pay you back for my half.”

He’s already shaking his head no, stuffing a bite of food in his mouth, “It was my turn anyway, r‘member? You paid for those tacos we had last week.”

“Right, I did. Forgot about that.”

You watch him devour a few more bites, your eyes darting from your plate to his, “Yours looks better.”

“Huh?”

Maybe it’s the wine making you more bold, you’d normally never complain, “Your plate it just..looks better than mine. Switch with me.”

“It’s literally the same thing..and I’ve already eaten half the noodles off mine.” He looks mildly annoyed at even the suggestion.

“Don’t care..it looks better. Switch.” You realized just how bratty you sound, so you add a quick, “Please?”

He huffs dramatically, switching the plates and giving you a sarcastic smile, “Happy?”

You return his smile, blissfully unaware of his annoyance in your tipsy state, “Very, thank you.”

You both turn your attention to the tv you realize now you had forgotten to pause, so the movie had progressed further, about 30 minutes in now.

His irritation has already faded when he asks, “What are y’making me watch?”

You start to explain the plot but stop mid-bite of your food, “Wait..have you never seen this movie?”

He shrugs, “Doesn’t look familiar.”

“Oh we’re definitely starting it over then!” 

“No, ya don’t hafta..”

It’s too late, you’ve already discarded your now mostly empty plate of food, nearly knocking your glass of wine over in your excitement of making him watch one of your favorite movies.

Almost an hour in, you don’t notice that Harry’s eyes have drifted to you. In fact, they’d mostly stayed on you since you’d restarted the movie. Your facial expressions were better to him than any movie; the way your eyes softened at the more heartwarming parts, or when your mouth formed a soft ‘o’ and gasped at parts he was certain you had probably seen at least a dozen times before.

You clasp your hand over your heart dramatically and he doesn’t even flinch, just listens intently when you say, “I love this part..this is the moment.”

His eyes temporarily flash back to the tv then, “The moment?”

“Yeah, you know, the moment. Where the guy looks at the girl and realizes he’s in love.” You sigh deeply, “I always wanted someone to look at me like that.”

Oh, you mean like what’s happening now between us? God he hopes for just a glance from you, a chance to show you that you’re living your own moment now if you’d just look at him. 

It’s tumbling out of his mouth quicker than he can stop it, his mouth working faster than his brain, but it’s a low enough whisper he thinks maybe you won’t hear.

“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.”

You do hear him, though you don’t believe it at first. Your hand is still resting over your heart, searching his face for any sign of teasing or dishonesty.

“H..did you just..?”

He’s looking down at his hands, fingers fiddling with one of the rings adorning his fingers, nodding before replying, “I did.” 

“How long?”

“Um..since the first week we’ve lived together? That first night we made dinner together and it was a disaster. Thought you were gonna catch the place on fire.” A giggle escapes him at the memory of you, rushing around the kitchen that night, face flushed red and hair a mess.

“That’s my moment? Almost burning our apartment down?”

“That and now, yeah. Just been strugglin’ with the best way to tell you. S’pose the wine’s making me a lil’ more fearless,'' He takes a deep breath, still not able to look at you in case he finds even a hint of rejection on your face, “But I understand if you don’t feel the same..”

“I do.”

His head snaps to look at you then, eyes widening for a second before he composes himself, “Really?”

You can’t stop the smile that blooms across your face at the sight of the thrill in his eyes. There’s a new buzz of elation in the air, but neither of you make a move at first. A pleasant tension fills the space between the two of you.

You break the silence, “So..what do we do now?”

“S’all up to you how fast and how far we take this. M’all in though, ready when you are, love. A cuddle might be nice while we finish the movie, if you’re up f’that.”

“I think I could handle that. I want something else first though.”

He’s trying to read your mind, thinks he knows exactly what it is, but he wants to hear you say it. Wants to hear the words he’s been waiting to hear for what feels like a lifetime now.

“Kiss me, Harry.”

You’ve already turned your body towards him; the movie, the food and the wine all long forgotten. He clears the space between the two of you easily, a hand on the side of your neck to add just enough pressure to pull you towards him.

Your lips crash against his, noses bumping at first but it doesn’t stop you, it only makes you crave him deeper and closer. You press your knees into his thighs, pushing yourself up so that you hover over him, your hair falling around his face. It’s still slightly damp from the shower, and his hand comes to rest on the back of your head now. 

There’s a smug look on his face when he pulls away, a hand still placed on your hip to hold you steady. He’s still breathless when he asks, “Did you use my shampoo?”

When you wake up in his bed the next morning, you question if last night was a mistake. You don’t regret it, not for a second, just wonder if maybe things will be different in the morning light. 

So when you barely touch the plate of eggs and toast he’s made for you for breakfast, he worries you’re having second thoughts about him, that he’s ruined any friendship you’ve already built by rushing into a relationship. 

So when you say, “Did you really mean what you said last night..about loving me?” He visibly relaxes, dropping his shoulders and beaming at you from across his own breakfast plate.

“Oh, darlin’,” He plucks a piece of uneaten toast from your plate, winking at you as he does, “You don’t know the half of it.” 

[triplexdoublex]

That’s My Baby

Pairings: Mod Sun x Reader

Warnings/tags: Pegging, use of a strap-on

A/N: This takes place in the same universe as my other Mod fics but it can still be read as a stand alone.

“Hey, you’re home!” You greeted Mod at the door. “I was starting to get worried, you usually text if you're gonna be home late from the studio.” 

“Sorry, I got a little distracted,” he motioned to the pink store bag in his hand.

“Oooh is that for me!?” You questioned excitedly, retrieving the bag from his grasp.

“Uhhh… yeah, I mean technically —“ he winced as you opened it, uncertain of how you would react. “I know we had talked about spicing things up and I-I just happen to pass that new sex shop they just opened on the way home, so I stopped in , and - and umm, yeah I thought I might be into trying... that” he spoke quickly, with both hands shoved into the pocket of his jeans, awaiting your response.

“Oh..” you gasped in shock as you pulled the apparatus from the bag. “A strap-on? Y-you want me to —“

“Sorry—” he began, with his head hung low. “I-if you’re not into it we can just—“

“Hey, hey, look at me,” you placed it back in the bag and stepped closer raising his chin with your fingertips. “You just caught me off guard that’s all. I’d be honored.” You smiled.

“Yeah?” His face lit up. 

“Yeah,” you pulled him in for a kiss. “C’mon,” you took his hand in yours, the bag in the other and walked him towards the bedroom. 

“Now?” He questioned, in surprise.

“Mmm, hmm” you hummed in confirmation , tugging him through the bedroom door.

“Damn, you spoil me.”

“You know it, baby.” You smirked before pushing him down on the bed, with a hand to his chest. You placed the bag at the foot of the bed for the time being as Mod rid himself of his shirt. You crawled over his sprawled out body on the bed and began kissing his neck. 

“God, I fucking love you!” He spoke with a hint of soft laugher to his voice. “I shoulda known you’d be cool with this.”

“Of course, anything for you, baby,” you began kissing him lower, and lower, trailing your lips and tongue over the permanent artistry that adorned his flesh until they disappeared below the denim horizon of his jeans. He lifted his hips as you unbuttoned his pants, aiding in their swift removal; his boxers stripped away with them. You took him in your hand and slowly pumped him while you lowered your mouth to the tip with a teasing, single swipe of your tongue. 

“Always such a tease!” He remarked with an impatient whine looking down at you.

“Can’t help myself, love watching you get all flustered and needy,” you continued to taunt him, holding him motionless in your palm as you licked around the base and mouthed his balls. His eyes were locked onto yours, watching you work. His hands were gripping at the sheets with eager frustration, his cheeks rosy and flushed.

“Please!” He begged as he lifted his hips from the bed with desperate need, trying to fuck into your fist. Eventually after teasing him a little bit longer you obliged and took him fully into your mouth; a satisfied hum falling from his lips. “Finally!!” he cried out gently threading his fingers into your hair, his hand bobbing along for the ride as you worked your mouth up and down his length, taking him in as deep as you possibly could and pumping what you couldn’t. You kept at until you felt his hand pushing at your shoulder; a breathy “stop, stop” bringing you to a halt. “Didn’t wanna cum yet,” he huffed “Wanna wait until —“ his eyes finished his sentence, drifting to the pink bag at the end of the bed. You got up off the bed and quickly retrieved the bag, as to not keep him waiting. 

“Oh good, you bought lube too” you noticed when taking out the strap-on. “Here,” you tossed it to him.

“I’ll be right back,” you excused yourself to the bathroom to put on the device, saving you both the awkward embarrassment of trying to figure out how to put it on.

Inside the bathroom you stripped off your clothes and struggled to find the right orientation of the contraption, turning it around as you tried to pinpoint which of the multiple adjustable loops were meant to wrap around your thighs and which were meant  to encompass your hips. Once you got it figured out you stepped into it, and pulled it up, adjusting the straps to fit you snuggly.

“Sorry that took so long,” you said as you stepped back into the bedroom. “I swear you need a degree in engineering to put this thing on,” you laughed. “Ohh— getting started without me I see,” you took notice of Mod prepping himself on the bed; two lubed slicked fingers working him open. “Ready for me yet?” You asked crawling onto the bed and settling between his thighs.

“I-I think so” he slid his fingers out.

“How do you wanna do this?” You questioned. 

“Just like this,” he answered. “Wanna face you.”

 You cracked open the bottle of lube and drizzled it over the pink, phallic shaped, object strapped to your pelvis and used your hand to make sure it was fully coated before bringing the tip to the slicked pucker between his cheeks.

 You were met with resistance at first, barely able to inch your way inside “Try not to tense up or it’s gonna hurt more. Just relax,” you coached him, rubbing soft circles with the thumb of your free hand on his hip. It took a few moments but eventually Mod relaxed enough and the head of the toy popped in, being swallowed by the tight ring of muscle. 

“Mmm, fuck!” Mod groaned, squeezing his eyes tight.

“That’s the worst part I promise,” You stayed as still as you possibly could. “I’m gonna give you some time to adjust, let me know when you’re ready.”

“You’re right it’s not so bad now, think I’m good,” he said after a few minutes. “You seem to know what you’re doing, have you done this before?” He questioned as you began slowly rolling your hips.

“No, but do think I’ve never been on the receiving end of anal before? Did you forget I used to date Colson?” You laughed.

“Ah, Touché” he laughed as well. “Speaking of Colson, please don’t tell him or the guys about this.”

“If that’s what you want baby, I can respect that, but I want you to know that this doesn’t make you any less of a man or whatever it is you're worried about?” You reassured him, gripping his waist with both hands as you gently thrusted.

“Mmhhmm uh, I-I know that, but I’m not sure the boys would agree,” he answered through strained moans.

“Pleasure is pleasure, if whoever the hell made humans didn’t want men to get fucked up the ass then perhaps they shouldn’t have put the male G-spot there,” you said in all seriousness.

“That’s a good point,” he laughed looking up at you with his crystal blue-green eyes. “This is why I love you,” he cupped your face, with a smile on his, and connected your lips.  You swallowed down his moans one after the other as you slowly increased your sped and depth. “Mmmmm mhhmmmmmn,” he broke the kiss with a long and throaty moan when you brushed against his prostate. “Aw yeah, do that- do that again!” He exclaimed breathily, gripping your backside, pulling you in deeper.

“Yeah, that’s my baby, that’s my baby. Let me hear you,” you praised and encouraged him. Typically Mod wasn’t one to be openly vocal, you knew he had the potential but he usually chose to hold back for whatever reason, but there was no stopping him now. 

“Uhhh , baby, fuck! This feel so ah- amazinggg!” He whined, covering his face with his hand.

“No, lemme see you,” you pushed his hand away and cradled his face. “Look at me. You close?” You questioned. Mod nodded. “Wanna watch you cum for me.” You reached your hand down between your two bodies and began stroking him to assist with his release. He tried his best to keep eye contact; his eyes fluttering closed in sync with the ebb and flow of your thrusts. Suddenly, you felt him twitch in your hand. “You gonna—“

“Yes,yes —- oh fuck! UhhMmmm,” His eyes rolled back and his shaft pulsed as he came, emptying on his stomach. You gave him a few minutes to come down from his high.

“Might sting a little” you warned, before you slowly pulled out, producing a brief whimper from Mod. “Stay right there,” you said. “I’ll be back with something to clean you up,” You once again excused yourself to the bathroom where you rid yourself of the contraption and wet a face cloth with warm water before returning to the bedroom. “You did so good,” you praised him as you wiped the cum and lube from his body.

“ I seriously can’t thank you enough, that was absolutely incredible,” he smiled at you fondly as you finished cleaning him up.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” you smiled back. “You might want to take it easily for the rest of the weekend, you’re probably gonna be a little sore.”

“Oooooh yeah, good idea,” he groaned as he sat up. Just then his phone went off. It was a text:

Colson: 11am tomorrow don’t forget!

“Oh fuck! I forgot I promised Colson I would help him move his shit into Megan’s place tomorrow.” 

“Can you cancel?” 

“No, I already smoked all the free weed that he gave me in advance in exchange for helping him.” He laughed 

“Yup sounds like something you would do!” You giggled “I’ll go with you tomorrow to help.”

***************

“Aye, perfect timing!” Colson shouted as you and Mod pulled into the driveway. “Just about ready to move my dresser out into the truck. Mind giving me a hand, while the boys take a break? Rook, Slim and Baze have  been helping since eight am but I know that’s early as fuck for you and you need your beauty sleep or whatever.” He laughed “let’s go.” 

Inside both boys lifted one end of Colson’s dresser and removed it from his room, and headed down the stairs with it. Mod was moving slower than usual, feeling a little sore as to be expected. 

“Aye, Mod you think you can walk a little faster here, my fuckin’ arms are getting tired.” 

“I’m walkin’ as fast as I can, Kells. You want help or not?”

“Walkin’ like you got a dick up your ass is more like it,” Colson taunted in friendly banter. “I’m the one walking backwards down a staircase here bro.”

“Kells, just shut the fuck up.” Mod laughed as they continued down the stairs.  He could feel himself beginning to blush and hoped he could just play off his pink hued cheeks as exertion, before Colson started asking more questions.

“Yo, Y/N!” Colson yelled over to you as you were loading some of the smaller boxes. “What the hell did you do to my boy last night? He joked. “Man can hardly walk. Did you finally break him out of his little Vanilla shell and give his thighs a workout making him fuck you good and hard last night or some shit?” Colson truly had no filter at times.

You looked at Mod with a smirk before answering. “Yeah, something like that.”

[mummybear]

Forbidden Fantasy Part 1 Of 2

Part Two 

Words: 3835

Warnings: Sister!cest, Flashback, Smut, Swearing, Choking, Rough Sex, Incest, Dirty Talk, Finger Fucking. Biting. Think That’s it.

Characters: Dean Winchester Y/N Winchester, Sam Winchester And Bobby Singer

Pairing: Dean x Sister!Reader

Summary: You are Sam and Dean Winchester’s half sister, after spending some time with your brother’s on a wendigo hunt seeing Dean in his element leaves you with some complicated feelings.

A/N: So, this is my first ever sister!cest fic! I really hope you guys like this, there will be a part two if you are interested in being tagged let me know :)! I really loved writing it, it’s completely filthy as like most of the stuff I write ;) A massive thank you as always to my beta Bee @negans-lucille-tblr for all of her help and support and for convincing me to post this :P Please let me know what you think!

Ko-fi - If you wish to support me, please consider doing so at my ko-fi Page :)

You try to pull your sleeping bag up higher around your shoulders, but you can still feel the cold seeping through the gaping hole in the side. You still had no idea how it had happened. It had been completely fine when you’d checked your supplies earlier and yet, even with Sam and Dean either side of you all you can feel is the cold. Dean shifts closer and you lean back into him, feeling his warm breath against your ear which sends a shiver up your spine. You hear the tell tale signs of a zipper being undone, and you swallow hard when you feel a strong arm wrap around your stomach, strong fingers pushing just under your t-shirt. His fingers are so warm against your cold skin that you can’t help but sigh happily at the feeling.

You know it’s wrong, but it feels so good. You’d been trying to ignore the way you’d started to feel about him for the last few months. All of the secretive looks in Dean’s direction which you hoped had gone unnoticed, you’d tried to pretend you hadn’t seen every time he’d caught you. But there was no ignoring the way that he would smirk at you, he always made sure that he chose times that Sam wasn’t around to make you squirm, every rude or suggestive remark, or suggestive joke. He damn well knew what he was doing and just how to do it. 

Today it had only gotten so much worse after seeing him kill that wendigo with the look in his eyes; the pure anger and hatred as the blood splattered all over his face and body. You hated to admit just how sexy and strong he looked, you couldn’t help wondering what was wrong with you. All you could think about was his hands all over you, leaving his fingerprints on your skin. 

“You’re freezin’ sweetheart,” he tuts, unzipping his own sleeping bag. “Got a bit of a rip there, you wanna share tonight? Doubt it’s gettin’ any warmer.” 

His voice is like liquid fire that burns across your skin, like everything you know you shouldn’t want but he’s everything you need.

 “O-Okay,” you mutter quietly, feeling your nerves getting the better of you. You shift out of your sleeping bag a little awkwardly, careful not to wake Sam as you climb in alongside Dean.

“Mmm, much better.” Dean purrs against your skin as he does up the zip on his sleeping bag once more. You stiffen against Dean when Sam moves in his sleep, rolling over so he’s facing the two of you. You’re practically crushed against the older Winchester’s chest when his fingers dance along the waistband of your loose fitting sleep shorts.

“I could see you watching me today sweetheart, you looked even more worked up than the other times that i’ve caught you.” He smirks against your thin t-shirt just above your shoulder blade.

You stiffen in his grip as his fingers push just inside your shorts and panties, his words catching you off guard, clearly you hadn’t been as careful as you’d thought.

“Dean what’re you doing?” You ask quietly, voice shaking slightly as you force down the moan that was trying to slip past your lips.

“You only gotta say if you want it to stop. But I don’t think you do want it to stop, do you sweetheart?” Dean chuckles quietly, you bite down on your bottom lip feeling two of his thick fingers move through your slick. 

“What about Sam?” You ask just as quietly, gasping a little when he slowly eases those two thick digits inside you. “What if he wakes up and sees us? He’s gonna kill us for this,” you breathe out, voice shaking with the effort of holding back yet another desperate moan. 

“Guess you better shut that pretty little mouth then sweetheart. Unless you want Sammy to know just how much this little pussy is dripping for me,” Dean growls behind you, his free hand pushing up inside your t-shirt as he roughly cups your bare breast, and you can feel his hardened length pressing into your ass.

-

A Week Earlier

That night you had stormed out of your house, after yet another argument with your mother. You wanted to know about your dad, about the other half of your family. Once again she had point blank refused to tell you anything. So you’d left, in search of the only other person you knew of, who knew your father, the man that you had called your uncle for years. 

You walked through the salvage yard, which was full of fond memories. You had helped Bobby on a few cars while your mom had worked late back in the day. You knocked on the door, your palms sweating, in hopes that your mother hadn’t realised you’d left yet and warned Bobby that you might be coming. You were a little distracted until you heard his voice. 

“Kid what’re you doin’ here?” Bobby questioned with a frown. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder and shrugged.

“What? I can’t just come and see my favourite uncle now?” You asked with a wide grin when he stepped out onto the steps. 

He chuckled and pulled you into a hug, “does your mom know you’re here?”  

You sighed deeply and shook your head, “I just needed a break from her and thought I’d stop by.” You smiled as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you inside with him.

“Make yourself at home, I just need to work on a car out back. Wanna come give me a hand when you're settled?” 

“Yeah sure, that sounds great,” you grinned and headed into the living room, while Bobby had left you alone. You already knew that he wouldn’t tell you about your father, where he was or what he did for a living, not even his name, you’d overheard Bobby promising your mother years ago that he wouldn’t talk. Luckily you already knew your father’s name, from your years of spying. You waited until you heard the back door close and you’d quickly headed over to his desk. 

You felt bad for lying to him, but at the same time you needed this information, you’d waited your entire life for it and you were done waiting. You knew where Bobby kept his address book and luckily the old man was a creature of habit because you found it and located the name you’d been searching for. You pulled out your phone and quickly typed in your father's number and saved it, making sure you put the book back where you had found it.

You felt your adrenaline rushing in your system and you knew you needed to excuse yourself without making him suspicious.

“How’re you getting on out here?” you asked as you leaned against the car beside the one that he’d been working on.

“Not sure you wanna know, this hunk of junk is only fit for scrap,” he grumbled, as he tossed away a part from the car. You couldn’t help but laugh fondly at his reaction. 

You paused, what you had been about to say had been stuck on your tongue as a sleek black car rolled to a stop in front of you and Bobby. You didn’t miss the look of worry that had crossed the older man’s face, but you were more confused when two tall, handsome guys stepped out of the car and made their way over to the two of you. You couldn’t help but eye them appreciatively, both were incredibly handsome in their own ways. You shifted awkwardly under their gazes, even more so when the shorter one threw you a panty dropping wink. 

“Sam, Dean. What do you boys need now?” Bobby sighed, as he walked over to them and nodded towards his house. You were even more confused when Bobby didn’t introduce you, but you followed along behind them regardless. 

You leaned against the kitchen side once you were all in the house and watched with rapt attention as nobody said a word.

“Who are you two?” You asked confused, realising that you’d never seen them before. 

The shorter one stuck out his hand and you gently shook it. 

“Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam-” He nodded toward the taller guy who was sitting at the table with Bobby and you froze where you stood, with your small hand grasped in the warmth of his. You had noticed the way that Bobby stiffend where he sat when he saw the way you looked between the two guys.

“W-Winchester?” You asked around the lump which had formed in your throat, just barely managing to get your words out.

“Um yeah, why?” Dean asked, he wore a similar expression to everyone else in the room.

“Who’s your dad?” You just about managed to spit out.

“John Winchester. Why?” Sam questioned, both brothers seemed immediately on high alert looking like they were about to run.

You had looked between the two and felt your heart as it hammered in your chest before you looked back at Bobby.

“Are they...?” You couldn’t seem to say the words out loud, but Bobby seemed to catch on.

“Yeah kid, they are. I’m sorry, I shoulda told you sooner.” There was a pause; you felt like your heart was about to explode in your chest and Bobby sighed, seeing the look on the boy's faces. 

“Sam and Dean. Meet Y/N. She’s your sister.” 

-

Present Day

You whimper pathetically, doing your best to keep your voice down when Dean starts to slowly thrust his fingers inside you and just as slowly he pulls them out, causing your breath to catch in your throat. He chuckles deep in his chest and it vibrates against your back when you lean back into him further, you start to roll your hips down into his fingers. His rock hard length presses into your ass harder with every subtle roll of your hips, until he pulls his hand free from your t-shirt and roughly grips your hip, stopping your movements.

A shiver rolls through your body when his plump lips press against your ear, and his warm breath ghosts over your cheek. He nips at your ear lobe, and all you can do is let out a tiny moan of his name. 

“Look at you, so fuckin’ desperate to come all over your big brother’s fingers. I bet you’d let me fuck your tight little pussy while Sam watched, wouldn’t you?” He practically growls, finally allowing his fingers to speed up. You can hear how wet you are every time his fingers roughly move back inside you.

“Fuck Dean, please. We shouldn’t be doing this, it’s so fucked up. We’re family.” You manage to whine out, slapping a hand over your mouth when Sam shifts in his sleep. You don’t want to admit that Dean’s words are affecting you but every dirty word only brings you closer to the edge.

“You want me to stop then, sis?” Dean asks doubtfully and you can hear the slight laughter in his voice. The way he says that has your pussy fluttering, it’s so fucking wrong, but God does it feel good. He curls his fingers inside you, stroking back forth over the spot inside you that makes you see stars. You gasp, clinging to his wrist, feeling the way the muscles tense and relax quickly the faster his fingers move.

“No, don’t stop.” You whimper, feeling the shame heating your cheeks as you blush hard, but your orgasm is right in sight and you need it so bad, and he feels so good. 

“No, of course you don’t.” He chuckles as his thumb starts to move over your clit. Your walls clench around him, you can’t help but moan behind your hand. “I bet you want it bad don’t you? Bet you’ve been thinking about your big brother fucking you nice and hard with my big cock, while you fuck yourself with your fingers, wishing it was me.” His voice and his words are hitting nerve after nerve. He’s right, you’d come on your fingers and your toys so many times screaming out for your eldest brother.

“Gonna stretch this tight little pussy out baby, you won’t want anyone except your big brother. Ain’t nobody good enough for you anyway, you’re mine.”

You throw your head back on his shoulder as another wave of pleasure surges through your body, dropping your hand from your mouth, you turn your head when his lips press against your cheek. You finally lock eyes with him, the green of them just barely visible, almost swallowed by the pupils. The tip of his nose brushes over yours and you can feel his breath against your lips.

“I’m so close Dean, please,” you beg desperately, feeling his hips beginning to rut against your ass.

Dean’s lips crush against yours, and he swallows the needy moan of his name when his fingers apply more pressure to your throbbing clit. Before you know what’s happening your orgasm slams into you like a freight train. Dean keeps you held close, helping you to ride out your pleasure until your body is practically vibrating in his arms from it. 

Your lungs are burning by the time he pulls back from your lips. Dean gently pulls his fingers out and you whimper at the loss, your pussy still throbbing from your orgasm.

“So pretty when you come for me, little sister,” Dean groans, slipping his fingers between his lips and moaning louder than he should’ve. You snap your head around and watch as Sam turns again, grumbling something under his breath.

“Dean, please you gotta keep quiet, Sam’s gonna hear us.” 

There’s a pop as Dean pulls his fingers from his lips, and he chuckles, his fingers tugging at your shorts. “Take these off, sweetheart. I’ll be as loud as I want, we both know you’d love it if Sammy woke up. How about I let him watch while I ruin our little sister? You’d like that, huh?” Dean practically growls against your neck.

You wiggle out of your clothes the best you can, your heart thudding in your chest as the reality starts to set in. Are you really about to fuck your biggest brother? He’s so fucking sexy, full of power and you’re so far past caring, you just want him to own you. He’s getting off on how wrong this is just as much as you are and as fucked up as it is, you don’t care if Sam wakes up and sees Dean fucking you. You feel Dean shift behind you as he pulls down his boxers.

“I fucking love your voice,” you whimper as he hooks the back of your knee into the crook of his elbow, spreading your legs open a little wider, it’s a bit of a stretch with the sleeping bag, but it works. He’s teasing you, with every roll of his hips and roughened grip of his hands, but you get an idea of how you can hopefully get your own way.

“I wanted you to fuck me that first day Dean, even after I found out who you were. I didn’t care.” 

The head of Deans cock nudges at your entrance and you clamp a hand over your mouth, stopping the noise that’s about to slip past your lips. 

“Of course you didn’t, sweetheart,” Dean groans, finally starting to enter you slowly, the burning stretch of your pussy around his thickness makes your eyes roll back, “you just wanted to be my dirty little cock slut, didn’t you? So tight and fuckin’ wet.” Dean growls against the back of your neck when he finally bottoms out.

Dean unzips the sleeping bag, pulling your leg up just a little higher on his elbow and you can feel your pussy clamping around his cock all over again. Gasping you nod, feeling his fingers tight around your thigh.

“Yeah I did, just for you, Dean.” You whine when he pulls his hips back almost all of the way, there’s a pause and you can feel the tip of his cock pulse inside you. 

He roughly snaps his hips forward, causing your hand to tighten over your mouth, only just managing to muffle your scream enough. His deep chuckle vibrates against your shoulder where his throat is pressed, his lips press against your ear and you wait on baited breath for him to speak. Your hand falls away from your mouth when his free hand wraps around your throat and you grip his wrist when he starts to thrust into you, deep and slow. 

“See that sweetheart, fuckin’ made for me. You’re gonna be walking around tomorrow full of your big brother’s come.” Just the idea of it, paired with his deep voice sends a shiver up your spine.

“Fuck Dean, please I need more. Faster please,” you practically croak when his fingers tighten around your throat.

“Look at you begging for your brother’s cock. Fuck sweetheart, you really are a desperate little whore ain’t you?”

His voice is so deep and rough, you allow yourself to get lost in it, every degrading word only sends more arousal flooding between your legs.

“I love being a whore for my big brother’s cock.” You whine rolling your hips down onto him harder. Dean growls behind you, teeth sinking into your shoulder, hand squeezing around your throat tighter as his hips start to snap against your ass, “God, f-fuck. Dean, gonna come,” you croak out the best you can under his grip. He’s fucking into your dripping hole with such force and speed you feel like every thrust punches the air from your lungs.

“There it is,” Dean chuckles hotly against your ear, releasing your throat from his grip, you suck in a breath of air when he starts roughly rubbing your clit in fast circles. His voice is much quieter this time when he speaks.

“Good girl, you gonna come all over my cock? You know Sammy is awake right? He can hear you moaning like a bitch in heat for me.” 

That’s all it takes for your entire body to cease up, as Dean forces a second orgasm from you. Every pulse of your orgasm sends shivers throughout your entire body, but he barely gives you time to recover before he rolls you onto your back. Dean roughly pushes the sleeping bag down your bodies and you look up at him, flushed freckled cheeks and dark eyes and plump pink lips from where he had been biting at them.

You’re so far past caring who hears you or sees you and Dean’s words about Sam watching still echo around your mind. Surely you would know though, right?

You aren’t given much time to think about it, because before you know it, Dean’s pressing your legs back against your chest, the rough grip of his fingers digging into your thighs as he spreads them a little wider.

“Fuck, your tight cunt was made for my cock, little sister,” Dean growls as his cock effortlessly slides back inside you.

“So fucking deep,” you gasp, locking eyes with Dean as he smirks down at you. His thrusts are slow and deep and your pussy clamps down around his cock with every thrust. You wrap your arms around Dean’s neck, dragging your nails over his back as soon as he lowers over you enough, his forehead rests against yours, breath hot against your lips. “I-I can’t Dean,” you gasp trying to squirm away from him, the sensitivity becoming a little too much and you swear your entire body is on fire.

Dean crushes his lips against yours, changing the angle of his hips and you try to arch your back beneath him, no doubt leaving red marks all over his back from the way you’re clinging to him. Your lungs are burning when he finally releases your lips, your head rolls to the side as Dean buries his face in your neck, sucking purple marks into your skin. 

You can feel yet another orgasm approaching and squeeze your eyes shut with the intensity of it, your entire body feels like it’s on fire. Dean’s lips move back to your ear, breathing hot and ragged, “fuck i’m close baby girl, I know you’ve got one more for me.” 

Your eyes snap open when you hear a second groan and you lock eyes with Sam, his eyes are darker than usual, teeth digging into his bottom lip. You glance down, clearly seeing his hand moving beneath the sleeping bag. Your muscles clamp down harder around Dean’s cock and you all but scream his name as your release hits you.

“Nice of you to join us, little brother,” Dean groans as the pulses of your orgasm make your pussy repeatedly flutter around his cock. He turns his attention to you as your eyes just barely flutter open, and your legs shake against him. You turn your head back to fully focus on your oldest brother.

“You want it sweetheart? Want your big brother’s come inside your tight little cunt?” Dean growls down at you, sweat coating both of your bodies now.

“Yes, please Dean,” you moan out, fluttering your eye lashes up at him as innocently as you can manage while your brother is fucking you.

Just another three powerful thrusts of Dean’s hips has him coming hard, groaning your name against your neck. There’s a moment of silence in the tent, only the sounds of all of you breathing heavily. Dean pushes up on his arms and you whimper as he gently eases his cock free and rolls onto his back. 

“Fuck that was hot,” Sam chuckles from nowhere and you turn to look at him as Dean’s arm wraps around your stomach, fingers gently tracing against your skin.

“Such a fucking perv, Sammy. Take it you enjoyed the show?” Dean laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“Well I guess my invite got lost, huh baby sister?” Sam asks, locking eyes with you once more.

You know you’re blushing hard, you can feel the heat in your cheeks but the way he’s looking at you is so similar to the way Dean had been watching you the last few days.

“It wasn’t really planned.” You try and defend the situation, not really sure why.

“Guess you need to make it up to him really soon, sweetheart. Would you like that? You wanna fuck Sammy too?” Dean asks huskily, lips pressed against your ear. You swallow hard, your throat really dry when you realise you really do want that. “Of course you do baby, such a little whore for your big brothers’ cocks.” 

You clamp your thighs together hearing Dean’s words, watching the smirk pulling at Sam’s lips when you lick your own. You feel a surge of confidence rush through you. “I guess it’s only fair.” 

Tags: @chewie-redbird @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @stiles-o-dylan24 @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @dylanholyhellobrien @desireepow-1986 @emichelle @lilulo-12 @ne-gans​ @22sarah08 @deanwanddamons @simsadventures  @charmed-asylum @nicole-lynne @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @emoryhemsworth @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @sunshineandwings86 @akshi8278 @peaches009​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @hobby27​ @akshi8278​ @littlelonewolfgirl @ladywinchester1967​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @maddiepants​ @spnfanfic-reblogs​ @holylulusworld​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @sonofabringmesomepie​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @hhiggs​ @pisces-cutie​ @trina44sb @heartsaved​ @matsumama​ @adoptdontshoppets​

[grumpy-zane]

    A little sus - Reccordshipping crack one shot (Lou x Dareth)

    Cole had a sneaking suspicion after Kai mentioned that his and Dareth’s plans for coat thrifting were cancelled. He called his dad earlier that day and he seemed pressed for time. It was only ever so often he would keep conversation short whether it was because he wanted to catch the next transport to a different town for preforming or had an important meeting to attend to, but he would at least mention it before hanging up. Today he was without his confident, prideful edge.

     “What’s wrong Cole?” Zane asked from across the table. He had been watching Cole draw with hopes of learning, but so far he only managed to make a dozen perfect circles. 

     He blinked, slowly looking up before looking back at his drawing, “Zane, I think my dad is seeing someone.”

    Zane smiled, “That’s a good thing, correct?” though on second though, maybe Cole didn’t want a new mom in the picture.     “I mean sure, but,” He set the pencil down and let it roll, “I think Dareth might be setting him up, and I dunno how I feel about that.”     “What do you mean?”     Cole folded his arms, “Well to start, it’s Dareth, and I’m sorry Zane, but he can be a bit much. Kind of overbearing and pushy. When I was talking to dad over the phone, he didn’t carry himself the same way he normally does. Like, not confident, not commanding. What if Dareth pressured him into finding someone new?”

   His eyebrows rose as he thought about it, “That certainly seems like a possibility, but why would Dareth want to do that?”    “I don’t know, why does he do anything? What I do know is that I don’t like how this looks, and I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Are you with me?” Cole offered a hand.     Not that he had any plans for the evening, Pixal was busy beating people up in the city. “Of course!”

--

    Tapping into surveillance sped the process up tenfold, first with tracking the house cameras and then checking around for the location of a car license plate. They wound up outside of an old concert all lit up orange from the ground flood lights, a tall building designed to carry the acoustics on the inside.

    Zane began walking towards the doors but Cole pulled him back by the arm, “I don’t want my dad to know we’re here, I just want to check up on him.”     “But what if he need a quick escape from a situation?”     “Please, my dad isn’t afraid to push back when someone is stepping on his toes. Besides, if it’s something really bad, we can do that after we scope it out.” Cole nodded before looking at the trimmings. What better way to enter in stealth than through the upstairs window?

    While the exterior was without much change over the years, the interior had a multitude of renovations done over to modernize the look. Chairs filled the entirety of the stage seating both on the floor and in the balcony. The blue chairs near the stage were newer than the ones hard-bolted down to the frame near the ninjas’ sides. the building was vacant with only a few lights on around the stage where the two men were dancing.

    “It appears to be some sort of lesson.” Zane mused.

    Cole, however, felt suspicious once more. “That’s not just any dance Zane, that’s a very specific dance that my dad would do in the living room with my mom. It’s romantic, not used casually.” “Perhaps Dareth wanted to impress someone, and enlisted Lou’s help?”

    An echoed thud followed by a yelp halted their conversation. “let go let go-” Dareth winced, which Lou obliged.     “Are you okay?”     “Hah, I told you Lou I have tight ankles,” He sucked and let out, “I knew I should have done some stretches.” Lou sighed, “No no, this night isn’t going how I wanted it to at all.”     “huh?” He seemed to drop the pain act immediately- was he trying to get out of it? His shakiness getting up argued agaisnt it.     “The park, the dinner, this, none of it went how I wanted it. It was just supposed to be me and you but then there was the pigeon strike, the domino effect of broken dishes, and the sound systems are all locked out! Ugh, it’s terrible!” Lou threw an arm into the air.     Dareth frowned, “Aw come on, it’s not that bad. I thought it was funny, even though that poor waitress fell, that was bad.”     “You don’t understand. I just wanted to spend time with you again without strings, without condition.” He paced, “Like how it used to be. Time marches forward but, history is still important!”

    “Lou, back then it was conditional. I was working for you to make sure everything went according to plan for the team. I wasn’t tagging along because I wanted to- well I did but then.. You know, we grew apart, had different dreams. you got married and I.. well lets not talk about that.” He chuckled nervously and scratched his elbow. “Maybe if you wanted this to turn out well you shoulda asked me to set it up....”

    He stopped and turned to face him, “You really left because you were chasing a dream?”

    Dareth rubbed his neck, “I.. left because you didn’t want me anymore- by that I mean you had Lily and you had lost touch with me and.. you know, we weren’t friends anymore we were just.. there, working, y’know?” This wasn’t something he had thought about in awhile, one of those topics that he would shove down before it interrupted his sleep, “I know I blew up and I apologized for that, and you apologized to me but.. it hurt. It hurt a lot.”

    Maybe it was silly, they had only met because he was desperate to be in the spotlight anyway, then he became a temporary manager for a few years. it wasn’t supposed to be anything more than that, was it? He considered Lou a friend, but really he shouldn’t have gotten that far. It was behind them both, so why did it haunt him?

    He felt a hand on his arm and finally stopped squeezing his neck, looking up at Lou who was staring intensely. “Did you consider me more than a friend?”

    His face felt a brief flash of heat. Dareth shrugged, “What can I say? you had your looks.”

    “Do you?”

    “Do I what?”

    “Consider me more than a friend now?”

    Dareth erupted in laughter, thinking it a joke, “Well if you’re in the market to buy,” He slapped Lou on the shoulder and squeezed it, but stopped immediately seeing the look he was giving back. “You’re serious?”

    Lou gave a nod.

    “Wait, was this uh, supposed to be a primer for a date?”

    “Well more like the date itself..”

    Dareth stared, “Lou Brookstone. Rule number one, if it’s a date, you ask ‘hey do you want to go on a date?’ first. Rule number two, if you want to be in a relationship with me, you let me plan out the dates. And rule number three,” He shoved his finger in Lou’s shoulder, “would you like to go on one next week Wednesday also how do you think Cole will feel about this?”

    Zane looked at Cole who looked ready to scream.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Pity in Short Supply (baon)

Summary:    In the aftermath of the kidnapping, Red has a few thoughts. There's a reason he's always called 'em liabilities.

Tags:  Kustard, Domestic, Established Relationship, Sans/Underfell Sans, Aftermath of a kidnapping, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Underfell Papyrus/Underswap Papyrus, Background Spicyhoney, A Touch of Lemon Goodness

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

By the time the sun was thinking about hopping over the horizon and getting started on its daily workout, the warehouse parking lot was starting to clear out. All the ambulances were long since gone, the only one of ‘em with a person in the back was the guy who was still stuck in that weird foam shit.

Red didn’t believe in karma; he’d spent much too long eating shit himself for that, but if there was any lingering threads of justice still clinging stubbornly in the air, it’d take a long, painful time to get that fucker loose.

Most of the Embassy Security teams were heading back with all the evidence stacked in their backseats and Red was standing in a shadowed corner away from the streetlights watching them pack it in. Some of ‘em would start working on interviewing the kidnappers who didn’t need a few hours to cut them loose from a little chemical warfare, along with the agents the FBI shipped their way. Some were gonna work on getting shit together for the inevitable interviews with the kidnappees sometime this afternoon. Red had some pull and plenty of strings to yank, but even he wasn’t gonna be able to hold back the tide of questions much longer than that.

There was probably gonna be a fit pitched somewhere along the line that he’d sent his trouble twins home to sleep before getting much info, but Red would have to hula that hoop when it rolled in. Wasn’t only about Stretch, it was about his bro; there was only so much the boss could take before he slammed face-first into his breaking point and he’d been skating a little too fucking close tonight for Red’s taste. Better to let him take his pretty little liability home, clean him up, spend a li’l time rubbing his scent all over him again like a dog in heat and wasn’t it a damn good thing none of ‘em could piss.

The last thing any of ‘em needed was his bro snapping and hauling his honey away like a shorter, skinnier, bald version fucking King Kong.

(and was the memory of his brother's bleak face as he sat there waiting for answers while Red lied out promises about getting his liability back in one piece gonna haunt his nightmares, fuck yes, 'course it was, gotta balance those books somehow, there was always a price, he'd learned that lesson fast while he was still carrying his baby bro on the streets. always a price, fucking always)

Red wasn’t too worried about losing any info, anyway. Wasn’t much chance of Stretch forgetting much, not with that eidetic memory of his. Not being able to forget was half of his fucking problems to begin with.

Out in the mostly deserted parking lot, the last couple agents were finished packing up their car, not even seeming to give him a second glance as they climbed in. ‘Seeming’ was the real shit there, to anyone who wasn’t used to watching. The driver, a deceptively slender deer Monster, their antlers cut stylishly down, paused just long enough for their eyes to flick his way. The subtlest of looks, but that was it. They didn’t make a show of asking if Red wanted a ride, didn’t play any ego trips over spotting him, just hopped into the car and sped off.

Good instincts. Red made a mental note to keep an eye on that one. Good, not great, ‘cause they didn’t notice the one standing further back behind him, the guy who took up the best shadows before Red even showed up.

He stepped up now, hands stuffed into his pockets as he shuffled his way to stand next to Red, untied shoelaces dragging on the damp asphalt. They stood there together while the first unbearable rim of sunlight crested and took the shadows with it, bathing them in painful, golden light.

Red pulled out a cigar and bit off the end, spitting it to the ground. He lit a match with a flick of his thumb and held the tip in the wavering flame. When the end was smoldering, he flicked the match into the puddle, the faint hiss of it extinguishing unheard as he asked in a cloud of exhaled smoke, “how’s it going, sansy?”

Red was looking at the empty parking lot, the puddles dotting it like a scattering of miniature lakes across a land of broken asphalt, so he didn’t see Sans shrug, but he could feel it, a ripple in the still air around them. “went like clockwork. we planned for this sort of shit, you know, planned it out for years. worked out possible sceneries with fuzzybuns, toriel, all the diplomats.” Sans’s ever-present smile widened humorousness, “even had a few for edge and stretch, guess we shoulda brainstormed on those ones a little more. don’t know if we coulda come up with that one, though. drugging him was always a contingency, but no one guessed they’d strip his ass down and lose every damn tracker on him.” Another tight shrug, one quick. cramped motion, “we’ll know better next time.”

The plume of smoke rising from Red’s cigar curled in the air, drifting like a mist in the dawn light. Red watched it and nothing else, letting his sockets fall half-closed as he followed the wispy path with his eye lights. “ain’t asking about the fucking ops. how’s it going, sansy.”

There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the rough scrape of gravel shifting under Sans’s feet as he rocked on his heels. “you know, i took up with the security department for paps,” Sans said conversationally. “wanted to keep a close eye on him when he went traipsing around the big bad world to spread the good word. back underground, that whole sentry schtick was an excuse for a paycheck, i wasn’t guarding anything but my own g and a nap.”

“yeah?” Red stuck his cigar between his teeth and bit down, tasting the scatter of soggy, bitter tobacco on his tongue as the jagged tips tore through the fragile wrapper. “that so, sweetheart?”

“yeah, that’s so, dollface,” Sans chuckled mirthlessly. “little ironic, ain’t it, that it turns out i’m good at this shit. who would’ve thought.”

“yeah, never woulda guessed a judge might not be bad at the whole diggin’ up covert info,” Red shook his head sadly, “a shock, really, that ya could put that empty skull of yers to some good use.”

“sweet talker. gonna end up sleeping downstairs with the cat you keep that shit up.”

“fuck, don’t do that,” Red shuddered. “already worried if i don’t get up fast enough to feed that bitch, she’d gnaw off my pinky toe before i wake up.”

“that picky little shit wouldn’t eat you if you rolled yourself up like sushi and slathered on caviar.” Sans hesitated, then asked, softer, “how’s stretch doing?”

“like shit.” Red didn’t bother to cushion it; his pity came sparingly and Sans could take it. “he’s got his judge all cranked up to eleven. caught a helluva glimpse of me when i got here, thought he was gonna puke on my shoes.”

Sans let out a long, ragged exhale. “that’s my fault,” he said bleakly, “i got him to hit his on switch to look for that lost kid, should’ve known he’d have a hard time shutting it down again.”

“maybe.” Red wasn’t too concerned about it. If Stretch wanted to retire and shove all that down into the dark, wasn’t any dust off his ass, but the only way he’d lose it entirely would be if someone ripped it out of him by way of a dustpan. “if those fuckers hadn’t tried to pull a limburger baby on the kid, then it woulda died back down on its own.”

This time Sans chuckle was more real, a little honest humor creeping in. “don’t let stretch hear you call him kid, he’s already got his panties twisted halfway up his spine.”

Red scoffed, tapping away the ash gathering at the tip of his cigar. “honey bun might be the same age as us, but he ain’t as old as we are. don’t matter how the universe tried to age him up.”

The sound Sans made might’ve been a hum of agreement or the juicy, hawking prelude to spitting. The sun hadn’t had a chance to chase away the evening chill and Sans’s jacket was zipped up against it. Over the tab of his zipper, nearly concealed by neckline of his hood, Red could see the glossy rim of well-oiled dark leather, the slightest glint of metal. He let himself look at it for a long moment, take a sip of dark satisfaction at seeing his collar right where it was supposed to be. Then he looked away, back across the empty, crumbling parking lot.

Sans didn’t try to touch him, only shifted his stance until their fingers brushed in a way that could pretend to be accidental, bone lightly scraping bone.

“we should get going,” Red said. The sun was climbing higher, the stars giving way to gauzy, useless clouds. At least stars were interesting, a reminder there was another Aboveground than this one, another path upward that might someday be reached. “we got a lot of shit to do downtown.”

“we do,” Sans agreed. He tipped his head in Red’s direction, slanting him a glance out of the corner of his socket. His eye lights were tinted golden by the sunrise, sly and knowing in a way that had nothing to do with magic. “want me to blow you in the stairwell before we take off?”

Red didn’t wait for him to finish, tossing his half-burned cigar into a puddle, dousing it and sending a splash of ripples through the still water. “fuck, yes.”

He followed Sans into the warehouse and in moments he was braced against the rusty handrail with his shorts around his ankles in the dust, shuddering at the feel of that hot, wet mouth around him, worshiping his cock with lovingly sinful familiarity. Every inch of his focus was taken up by that and there wasn’t room to think about a single other thing. Not even the phantom sensation of metaphorically getting flayed alive by a wild orange gaze, the unexpected, needle-sharp feel of every one of his sins digging in their spidery claws as they crawled up his spine.

He didn’t think about it at all.

-fin

[prolestariwrites]

The Wish [8]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC Rating: General Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

Now Posted: Chapter 8, in which Dante has to face the most intimidating creature of all... his wife.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Chapter 8: Dante Sparda, Legendary Demon Hunter

Dante pulls up outside of Vergil’s house and turns off the car. They sit in silence for a long moment before he says, “Thanks again for what you did back there.”

“You’re welcome.”

His brother’s voice shakes a bit, but it seems like he’s holding onto control, even if it’s barely. Which is something at least. “It’s funny,” Dante jokes, “you’ve used Summoned Swords on me half a dozen times at least, and this might be the first time you used it to save me.”

“Summoned Swords,” Vergil murmurs. “Is that what that’s called?”

“It’s what you called it in my world. Although it’s a bit different there.”

Vergil nods, and silence settles again. Dante scratches his chin as he searches for what to say. “You know, Nero can do it too. Surprised the hell out of me the first time I saw it.”

“Nero.” Vergil turns his face to the window. “I should get inside.”

“Yeah. But, Verge…” Dante sighs as Vergil looks back at him. It is obvious his brother needs him now: he needs comfort, reassurance, something to help him process everything and come to terms with the truth. He needs wisdom. He needs tact and compassion.

Damn it all. “I’ll pick you up in the morning,” Dante says. “Then we’ll look for dad.”

“Yeah.”

Vergil reaches for the car door and Dante blurts out, “Don’t worry about anything. We’ll find him. And if any demons show up, you can use Yamato. You’re a better fighter than I am, so you’ll be fine.”

“I’m not a swordsman, Dante,” he grumbles. “I haven’t fought with anyone since we were children.”

“But you can. And Mary can too. She’s a way more successful demon hunter than I am.” Vergil frowns at him, but Dante continues, encouraged, “She kicked both our asses. She’s always got some demon on the run, knows how to use dozens of weapons and make her own even. And Nero? He’s got all kinds of crazy power. He was demon hunting before he even knew how.”

“Nero’s just a child.”

“Yeah, here he is, but in my time, he’s older, and I’ve seen him in action. Took down a whole evil god robot once.” Vergil huffs and shakes his head as Dante leans his elbow on the steering wheel. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to worry. You didn’t think you could fight but then you skewered that guy. So trust that they can handle themselves. And your V, Vitale? He’s not… I don’t know him, he’s not from where I’m from, but if he’s anything like you, then he’s got this too.”

Vergil glances at him briefly before nodding. Then he opens the car door and climbs out, and Dante watches as he hurries up the driveway to his front door, still clutching the sword.

Dante heaves a long sigh before starting the car again. On the drive to home, he wonders what he’s going to do about Lir. He’s still not entirely sure she’s not a demon too, so if he comes clean with her, there’s no telling she won’t attack him just like the bar waitress.

His questions are answered when he walks in the front door. “Dante? Dante!” Lir practically runs to greet him from the kitchen. “There you are! What happened? Are you okay?”

Before he can answer she pulls him into a hug, forcing him to bend over so she can press her cheek to his. “Dante,” she murmurs, and he feels a pang of guilt as he returns the hug. “I was so worried.”

“I’m okay.” He eases up and pushes her hair back from her face. “Why were you worried?”

“Your mom called all frantic. She said your father ran off and broke a window and in his study… there was…” Lir’s voice trails away as she examines his front, and Dante glances down. There are splatters of blood on his jacket and shirt, and he steps back as she gapes. “She said there was blood on the floor. What happened?”

Her eyes are wide with alarm as they rise to meet his. “Let me get cleaned up and I’ll explain.”

Dante eases past her and heads to the kitchen. Lir follows, hanging back in the doorway as he moves to the sink. He uses the minute to think as he runs his hands under the hot water, taking a few pumps of dish soap to clean the blood away. He shuts off the faucet and grabs a dish towel, drying them as he turns to face her.

He leans against the kitchen counter and swallows thickly. “Mom was upset, huh?”

“Very.” Lir takes a step closer before hesitating. “What happened?”

“We… fought. It’s fine,” he says hurriedly, holding up a palm as she opens her mouth. “My dad’s been keeping secrets and I confronted him. It didn’t go well.”

“Secrets?” she asks. “What kind of secrets?”

Dante folds his arms with a sigh. “He’s not who he says he is. He’s… something else.”

“Something else? What does that mean?”

“It means he’s not human.”

He waits for a long moment to let the news absorb. Lir stares at him with wide eyes, and he notices how her fingers tremble as she reaches out to brace against one of the chairs at the little breakfast table. “He’s not human,” she murmurs.

Dante nods and she tilts her head towards him. “And the blood?”

He glances down at his soiled shirt. “That was my mistake. Dad was lying and I wanted him to tell Vergil the truth. So I stabbed him with a sword.”

“You stabbed him?”

“Yeah. He was fine though. Got right up.” Dante chuckles. “Shoulda seen the look on his face. Serves the old man right. He kept refusing to come clean, and I—”

“Dante.” His mouth snaps shut as she sinks into the chair, looking pale. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“If it makes you feel any better, this isn’t all his blood.” Lir looks up sharply as he spreads his arms. “Vergil and I got a drink afterwards and got attacked by a couple of demons in the bar. Had to kill a waitress and all I had was a chair leg, if you can believe it. Luckily Vergil came through. Wasn’t that bad, he killed the bartender.”

“You killed a waitress?”

Dante winces. “Okay, it sounds really bad when you say it like that. But they were demons, I swear.” He starts to walk towards her, and Lir scrambles up, pressing back against the wall. The fear on her face makes him freeze, and he watches as her eyes start to tear up. “Hey, relax. Really. It’s gonna be fine.”

He takes another step and Lir launches herself across the kitchen, diving for the knife block. She pulls a long bread knife from its slot and spins, holding it out like a magic wand as if to ward him off. “Don’t come any closer!” she shrieks.

“Okay. Obviously I’m telling this story wrong.” Dante holds up his palms. “I’m not gonna hurt you. See?”

“You’re crazy!” she cries. “Demons? Killing?” He rolls his eyes and she shakes her head furiously. “Stay away from me!”

She steps to the side, keeping pressed against the counter, as she fishes her cell phone from her pocket. Dante frowns as she swipes it on. “What are you doing?”

“I’m calling the police.”

Her voice has an edge now, and Dante can see she’s a dangerous mixture of frightened and furious. “I’ll just go,” he suggests.

Lir shoots him a look to kill as she raises the phone to her ear. “Hello? Yes? Yes, I need the police, my husband—”

As she speaks, something catches Dante’s attention, like a pinprick on his neck. His head turns just as the ceiling explodes in a shower of drywall, the window shattering as something breaks through. Lir screams and he sees her drop the phone in the corner of his eye, and Dante steps between her and the two demons that now stand towering in their kitchen.

He looks up at the hole in the ceiling and grits his teeth when he sees the sky. “We have a fucking door you know,” he growls.

“Dante!”

Lir’s voice is wild with panic, and he holds out a hand. He curses silently, knowing her being here is going to just make this harder. It’s bad enough to fight a demon when a human is around, but now his instinct to protect her is screaming loud enough in his head to drown out any reason. He’s got to get her safe, and then he can deal with them.

“Lir, I want you to run.”

“What?”

“Get to the front door and run. Now!”

He doesn’t know if she obeys because at that moment they advance. Once again he tries to summon Rebellion, and again he realizes he’s left it in the damn car. Two sets of teeth and four sets of claws come for him with a screech, and then Dante is dodging, throwing one punch after another as he tries to make a plan. One of the demons picks up the toaster and throws it at him, making him duck. It sails over his head and implants into the wall behind him. “What the hell!”

One of the demons grabs his leg, pulling him to the ground. Dante lurches to the counter as he falls and grabs a drawer, yanking it free with one pull. He prays it has something he can use, but inside are dish towels. “Damn it,” he mutters, but he swings the drawer, which breaks with a spray of splinters as it hits one demon full on the face. It falls back and lets his leg go, and Dante scrambles to his feet, pulling open another cabinet.

This one has plates at least, so he grabs the stack and throws them one by one at the other demon. They explode in its face, the porcelain shattering loudly as it falls in pieces to the floor, but they disorient it enough that Dante can deliver a kick that sends it sailing across the kitchen. Before the two demons can recover, he lunges at the knife block, and with a steak knife in each hand, he quickly dispatches them both, slitting their heads open, both collapsing in a pool of dark blood.

Dante catches his breath and drops the two knives in the sink. When he turns, he finds Lir on the ground, her knees drawn up as she gapes at him.

“Lir…” he murmurs with a wince. They stare at each other for a long moment, and he takes in the pieces of drywall stuck in her hair, the way her shoulders shake, the bright flush on her face. But she’s alive, that’s all that matters. The rest of this shit he can explain, and fix, and make up to her.

Just then, there is the sound of someone talking, and they both look down at the phone on the ground. It looks like it takes a half minute for her to remember what it is, but then she jerks it up to her ear. “Hello? Hello, yes I’m here. No, no, everything’s fine.” Her eyes are wide as they take in the mess now that it’s settled, but her voice is steady. “I thought my husband was hurt, but he’s fine. A cabinet fell over in the kitchen, that was all the commotion. I’m so sorry.” She listens for a moment and then says, “Really, it’s not necessary. We’re fine.”

Dante takes a deep breath as she finishes the call, looking out the hole in the wall where the window used to be. He scans the darkness for any more demons, but his senses don’t pick anything else up. Lir says goodbye, and he glances over as she presses a finger to the screen before slowly setting the phone on the ground.

Their gazes connect, and he feels a twist in his chest as he sees tears swimming in her eyes. But then Lir scrambles towards him, and he catches her in a tight hug, her face pressed to his neck. Dante gives a small smile as he holds her closely, rubbing a soothing hand on her back as her breath shakes against his skin.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“So that’s everything.” Dante looks over at the passenger side, where Lir stares straight ahead. “Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

Her eyes fall to where her hands sit in her lap. “So you’re not Dante? My husband?”

“I guess not,” he replies. “I mean, I’m Dante, but I don’t know if I’m him or if he’s me or if…” He rubs his face and glances at the clock on the dashboard which shows it’s nearly midnight. The gas station they had pulled into is deserted, and the light from the shelters over the pumps gives enough light that he can see the pained expression on her face. “Sorry. I keep saying the wrong thing. And uh, I guess I should apologize… for the other night—”

“No, it’s…” She glances over, almost shyly, and Dante’s heart skips a beat. “You’re still him, just not him him. I think.”

“Right.” He chuckles humorlessly with a half smile. “You hungry?”

Lir shakes her head. “Not really. I’m exhausted.”

“Let’s get some rest then.” He starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot, heading down the nearly empty street. After a few turns he finds a little motel, and Lir luckily doesn’t argue when he parks. She stops to grab the bag she had packed in haste before they fled the house as he heads into the office, emerging a minute later with a room key. “Funny, the guy didn’t blink twice even though I’m a mess,” he jokes.

Dante grabs Rebellion from the trunk, remembering this time, before he leads her to room six.  But he hesitates when he slides the key into the lock. “I guess I should have gotten two rooms?” he murmurs.

“No. I don’t want to be alone.” She presses her hand on his back lightly. “It’s fine.”

He nods as they enter, flicking on the lights as Lir follows inside. There is a Queen-sized bed in the middle, a television, a chair and table, and Lir shrugs off her jacket before opening the bag. She pulls out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, holding them out to him. “Do you want to get cleaned up?”

“Yeah.” Lir doesn’t look up at him as he takes the clothes, and not knowing what else to say, he heads into the bathroom.

His reflection is a mess, his hair sticky strands covered in blood and dirt. His face and neck aren’t much better, and as he strips off his clothes, he thinks about what he must have looked like arriving home like that. “This is why I never got married,” he mutters to himself as he turns on the faucet. “Too much trouble.”

His dialogue continues as he starts the shower and unwraps the little bar of free soap, listing the reasons why a relationship and marriage don’t mix with demon hunting: too much blood. Too much laundry. Too many questions. Weapons. Blood. Death.

He leans his forearm on the tile, watching as red swirls around the drain until the water goes clear. Stupid fucking wish, he thinks. This life he had always wanted? It’s not possible, and he needs to accept that and move on. He had no idea what he was asking for, Dante realizes.

It makes sense, really, he tells himself as he towels off. After all, Lady didn’t have anybody. Neither did Trish. Whoever Nero’s mother was, it couldn’t have lasted long before Vergil was gone, if his brother even knew he had a kid in the first place. Too much liability when you have someone in your life. He remembers Lir’s scream as the demons crashed into their home, the way the fear hit in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. But Nero has managed it, hasn’t he? He has Kyrie, and goes home to her every night, blood and guts and all. Dante frowns, wondering if it’s not meant to last. It would kill the kid to lose her.

Sparda, Vergil, him, now Nero… their whole family, one after another, losing someone close before disappearing too. Like some big cosmic joke.

Lir is curled up on the pillows, the lights off and the television on. She pulls back the covers when he climbs up to join her, and Dante smiles a bit when she repositions herself with her head on his chest and her arms tightly wrapped around him. “This okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

Dante snorts. “Nah. It’s a crazy story, I know.”

“I pulled a knife on you.”

“Not the first time someone’s done that.”

Lir stiffens a bit before lifting her head. She looks at him sadly, but he grins. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You didn’t tell me who I am,” she says.

Dante glances away with a shrug. “I don’t know you in my time. We never met.”

“Oh.” She lays her head back down against his shoulder, and Dante settles his hand on her hip. “I’m glad we got to meet here.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Dante listens as Lir’s breathing goes steady, her body sinking against him as she falls asleep. He stays awake, watching the light behind the curtain grow darker before slowly turning gray. By the time the sun comes up, his decision is made.

[plaidbooks]

I’m Okay

A/N: This was a concept I’ve had in my head for a little. I just...I really wanted a fluffy Carisi piece. Though, this is definitely more angst with a happy ending. I don’t know what it is about Carisi, but I always seem to write him into angsty things (though, I also just seem to write mostly angst with happy endings idk man).

Tags: domestic violence mention, rape mention, car crashes, blood mention

Words: 2k

You stood next to Carisi and Olivia as you all listened in on the interview Rollins and Fin were conducting on the latest scumbag you and Carisi had dragged in, Trevor Oaks. His wife—who you were hoping would be his soon ex—came in earlier in the day, crying, hand on her quickly blackening eye. Her husband had a temper, one that came out soon after the wedding. But now, he had crossed the line, taking his aggression out on her instead of just the wall or a vase. Though, it wasn’t until Amy Oaks had sat down with Lieutenant Benson that she realized with horror that this wasn’t the first time; that when he would get angry and force her to the bedroom, that even if she was his wife, that it was still rape.

You scrunched your nose up in disgust as Fin and Rollins grilled Trevor, trying to bring out that violent side of him that you all knew existed. But the man simply smirked, asking for his lawyer. Obviously frustrated, the detectives got up and left the interview room.

“He’ll make bail in no time,” Olivia muttered to the glass, glaring at the bastard. It was true; he was a trust-fund baby, riding on the millions made by his father.

“Want us to sit on Amy at the hotel?” Carisi asked. You and your partner were already charged with moving her from the precinct, where she was hidden in Liv’s office, to the hotel, well away from her husband until his trial. You really didn’t mind Carisi volunteering you both to watch her, either; in the months you’ve been working together, you had developed a crush on him. Spending more time stuck in a small, confined car, telling stories about your families, past cases from past departments, and embarrassing snippets of your childhoods was one of your favorite things to do. Something about the way Carisi’s bright blue eyes crinkled when he laughed at something you said warmed your whole being.

“Just for tonight; unis can take over in the morning,” Olivia replied, giving a small smile of thanks before dissolving back into the tired, professional demeanor she always carried at work.

You nodded and headed to your desk, grabbing your coat and things, Carisi right behind you.

“Hey, sorry for volunteering ya for this,” he said, but the smirk he had showed that he wasn’t really sorry. He knew you didn’t mind, not really—the job, the victims always came first. It’s one of the reasons you two worked so well together.

“Yeah, yeah. You can make it up to me by buying the first round of coffee,” you joked, grinning right back at him. He grabbed his jacket and keys, then followed you to Liv’s office. Making sure the coast was clear, you and Carisi were on either side of Amy Oaks as you led her from Liv’s office to Carisi’s squad car, tucking her behind the driver’s seat. You climbed in the front seat, and Carisi took the wheel. The sun was already setting in the city, casting the sky into beautiful pinks and oranges.

The hotel that Amy was assigned to was across the city, and the rush hour traffic from the end of the workday meant that the sky was dark before you made it halfway to the hotel.

“So, Trevor won’t be able to find me tonight?” Amy asked in a small voice, a sob threatening to break from her throat.

You turned in your seat to give her a reassuring smile. “He’s in jail for the night; the bail office is closed. Besides, Detective Carisi and I will be stationed right outside your room, just in case. You’re in good hands.”

She nodded slowly, relaxing her shoulders slightly. You turned back around, eyes catching Carisi’s as he chanced a glance over at you, a smile tugging the corner of his lips. Then his eyes were back on the road, and he readjusted his grip on the steering wheel.

“Ya know, [Y/N], there’s somethin’ I wanted to talk to ya about…” he started, trailing off. His voice sounded a little nervous, and you cocked your head, brow furrowed.

“What’s on your mind, Carisi—” you were cut off by an impact slamming into the side of the car, the loud, grinding sound of metal on metal filling the space around you. You felt the seatbelt tighten painfully against your chest, your head whipping to the side before everything went dark.

 ******************************

Carisi felt the impact on the passenger side, felt himself lose control of his car. It skidded down the street before it finally came to a stop, the horrible sound of metal scraping still fresh in his ears. He had his eyes squeezed shut, his hands death-gripping the wheel as instincts took over and he just held on. It took him a few moments to realize that the car had stopped. Suddenly fearing another impact, Carisi ripped his eyes open, trying to take in the scene in front of him, gauging what the hell was happening. The windshield was gone, in fragments on the hood and in his lap. Slowly, he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door, staggering out of the seat. He looked to the SUV that had hit him, but the driver was long gone; the driver’s door was wide open. In the distance, he could hear sirens already.

Remembering his job, Carisi stumbled to the door behind his own, throwing it open. Amy was dazed, blood leaking from her temple and a split lip, but she was very much alive.

“What—what happened?” she mumbled, not quite lucid. She probably had a concussion, Carisi thought grimly, frowning. He pulled the pocket square from his jacket and put it in her hand. He then took her hand and guided it to where the blood was leaking from her head. Carisi vaguely noticed that the side of his own face felt sticky, but he could deal with that later.

“Hey, [Y/N], you okay?” he asked, looking at your still-seated form in the front seat. You didn’t respond and his stomach dropped. “[Y/N]?” He leaned over Amy’s body, careful not to touch her in case she was more injured than she seemed and rested a hand on your shoulder. He shook you gently, but still there was no response, your head lolling to the side. Carisi could feel his hands starting to shake as he pulled back out of the car, hurrying around to your side of the car on wobbly legs. But the SUV had made contact directly with your door, denting the metal inward. He knew it was futile but that didn’t stop him from gripping the twisted handle and pulling on it with all his might. Panic gripped him, making bile rise in his throat as he flung himself on the hood of the car, avoiding the sharp points of metal as best he could. He reached through the missing windshield, checking to see if you had a pulse, unable to even consider the fact that you may not. He let out a strangled sob as he found a faint heartbeat there, your breathing coming in rasps.

It took everything in him to not pull you out of the wreckage, to wait for the ambulance to get there. But he waited on the hood of the car until the paramedics dragged him away, sitting him on the back of an ambulance, checking the cut on his temple, the smaller cuts on his face from the glass. He had a mild concussion but was wholly unharmed. Amy was much the same; minor cuts and bruises, a concussion, and a transportation to the hospital to make sure there was nothing internally damaged. Rollins had been the first officer on the scene, but Carisi asked her to ride with Amy—he may have failed to protect her, but that didn’t mean SVU couldn’t pick up his slack.

So, he sat in silence as he watched the paramedics attempted to dislodge you from the driver’s side of the car. But the metal had pinned your legs, making it impossible to pull you from the wreckage. That’s when the jaws of life made an appearance, and they began cutting their way through the door. Carisi felt the hot trails his tears made down his cheeks as they left his eyes, but he couldn’t stop them, didn’t even try. He just clutched the shock blanket that the paramedics draped over him tighter. This was all his fault, anyways; he should’ve seen the SUV coming, should’ve been paying more attention. Guilt ripped through him as he watched with morbid fascination as the paramedics slowly made their way to you. It seemed like they were going so slow; he was starting to think that there was a chance you might not make it, that you may bleed out, that you may—

“Carisi, what happened?” Olivia’s voice cut through his thoughts. He jumped, not noticing his Lieutenant’s presence.

“I-I’m sorry, Lieu. I didn’t…the SUV came outta nowhere…I shoulda—”

“It’s not your fault, Carisi.” She took a deep breath, surveying the scene. Her eyes froze on the paramedics cutting through the door, but from this angle, she couldn’t make out who was in the front seat. “Where’s Amy Oaks? And [Y/L/N]?”

Carisi let out a shuddering breath. “Amy’s in the hospital—Rollins is with her. She’s shaken up but fine. [Y/N] is—is…” he trailed off, looking back at the wreckage. Olivia gave him one last look, patted his arm, then rushed over to the car. The paramedics had finally made it through the door and cut the seatbelt away from your limp body. Fresh tears spilled over Carisi’s face as he watched them gently, carefully, lift your lifeless body out of the passenger’s seat and onto a gurney, before loading you into an ambulance and driving away.

Olivia talked with some of the remaining paramedics before she rushed back over to Carisi. “Lieu, is she—is she…?”

“She’s alive Carisi; let’s go,” Liv ordered. He didn’t need to be told twice; he was up and following Olivia on weak legs to her car. She flipped on her lights and sped after the ambulance.

 *********************************

Carisi felt like a spirit walking the halls of the hospital. At first, he was in the waiting room lobby; you were in surgery when you had first arrived. You got a punctured lung from the car accident, not to mention all the various cuts and bruises. You were actually very lucky that that was all you walked away with. But still, Carisi didn’t think of it was lucky. You would’ve been luckier if he didn’t open his stupid mouth, if he didn’t offer to watch Amy Oaks that night—he ignored the fact that you both would’ve still given her a ride to the hotel.

After sitting idly for about 30 minutes, his Catholic guilt was eating him alive. So, instead of spending another moment alone with his thoughts, he went in search of a cathedral in the hospital, if they had one in this specific hospital. Turned out that they did have one; ground floor and tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the doctors, nurses, orderlies, patients, and families that roamed the halls.

Carisi had found the cathedral quickly enough and spent an hour in there, reciting every prayer he could remember to help you through this, to keep you alive. And to assuage at least some of his guilt. But it did little to help there. Instead, it was more of a private place to let some more tears shed, tears that he didn’t want to explain to his Lieutenant. He was pretty sure that she had written it off as simple guilt, and she was partly right. But only partly. The truth was that Carisi didn’t want to lose you; from the moment you had walked into the squad room, he had been 100% completely smitten by you. And now, he had put you in the hospital.

He made his way back to the waiting room lobby and plopped down next to Olivia, who have his knee a reassuring squeeze. “She’s going to be fine, Carisi,” she muttered. He simply nodded, willing himself to not start sobbing again.

He lost track of time before the doctor came out and announced that you would be fine, that you would make a full recovery. Carisi released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

 ******************************

Your eyes fluttered as you slowly opened them. You noticed instantly that you were in a hospital room; the white walls and sheets catching your eyes, the soft lighting showing that it was late in the evening, the soft hum of machinery filling the silence of the room. But there was another noise, too. Looking around you found the source quickly. Next to your bed was a visitor’s chair, Detective Carisi sitting in it, his top half bent over your bed. His head was nestled by your knees, one arm under his cheek, his other hand laying next to yours, his fingers barely brushing your skin. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly ajar with a thin line of drool in the corner of his mouth. The sound you had heard was his soft snores. Your heart melted at the sight, even if your stomach clenched at the numerous cuts on his face and arms, and the redness around his eyes. As much as you wanted to let him sleep, you knew that his back must be killing him from this position, and he was probably worried half to death.

“Sonny,” you called softly, lightly touching his hand with yours. His eyes flew open and he groaned as he sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Are you okay, Sonny?” you asked, smiling at his half-asleep look, his eyes still bleary. You noticed the bandage on his temple, but it was white, so the bleeding was stopped.

He blinked a couple times. “Me? Of course, I’m okay. Are you okay?” He rubbed at his eyes, trying to see straight.

You took mental stock of your body; you had a dull pain in your chest and a small headache, but mostly you just felt the drowsiness of the medication you were surely on. You thought back to what happened; the car ride to the hotel, making sure Amy Oaks was alright, the car crash— “Yeah…I’m fine. Amy?”

“She’s fine; Rollins and Fin are watching her,” he paused, brow furrowed, unable to meet your eyes. “[Y/N], I am so, so sorry about this. I shoulda—”

“Carisi,” you cut him off, raising your hand to stop him. “Unless you’re about to tell me that you intentionally got hit by that other car, then I don’t want to hear it.”

“But—”

“No buts,” your eyes softened as he finally looked at you. He looked so…sad, defeated. “Sonny, it’s not your fault. It’s called a car accident for a reason.”

He nodded. “I know, it’s just…I almost—” his voice started to break, tears in his eyes, making them brighter blue, “I almost lost you.”

Tears were now forming in your eyes, and you reached for his hand. He took yours, laying them on the bed, fingers interlacing. “I’m right here, Sonny. I’m okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I—I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you today. [Y/N], I love you—I love you so much, and seeing the paramedics taking you out of the car—” his voice hitched and the tears really started to fall now.

Your heart fluttered in your chest. “I—I love you, too, Sonny. Come here.” You scooted over on the bed, as much as you could. He furrowed his brow and cocked his head. “Come here,” you said again, pulling the hand you were still holding.

He smiled softly before he carefully climbed into the bed next to you. You curled up next to him, burying your face in his chest and breathing in his familiar scent. Carisi wrapped his arms gently around you, pulling you protectively against him, placing soft kisses on the top of your head. He whispered how much he loved you until you fell asleep in his embrace.

[shark-myths]

Fic Writer Review

thanks for the tag, @setting-in-a-honeymoon !

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

60! which is a lot, and also doesn’t include the fics i orphaned from an old fandom (a controversial decision to me, by me)

2. What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

867,941

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

so many throughout history, and some i’m sure i’ve forgotten. and yes, i’ve been writing RPF since age 13 and am developmentally stunted as a result. smallville, x-men, lotr, afi, fall out boy, battlestar galactica, mcu, iron man, marina del rey, mcr, star trek, supernatural, p!atd, and now the latest blessed sinkhole, cobra kai.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Stranger Danger

From Russia With Love

The Difference Between Real Love and the Love On TV

Boys Next Door/Assholes

Jet Black Crow

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

oh, I really mean to, i swear. but I have 340 in my inbox that I haven’t responded to. I appreciate my kind and supportive reviewers so much! I just don’t have a lot of time or energy, and I usually choose reading or writing with my time instead of responding to messages. your comments are a gift and I love receiving them so much!!!

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

lol in the olden days, I once ended a fic with a surprise suicide, because i was a cruel and mercurial child. all my fob fics have happy endings though! the fic I have online right now that gets the most ‘wtf is this ending’ feedback is the unreliable narrator ghost story, the ending of which is either happy or REAL SAD, depending on how you interpret is, is Baby You’re A Haunted House

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

i don’t write crossovers per se but I love a good universe smash. the wildest one I’ve done is my beauty and the beast/coyote ugly peterick remix.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

god yes, i started writing fic in 2003 and i cannot stress enough how different fandom was back then

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

absolutely I do, lots of emotional intensity but also good old fashioned fucking

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

a million years ago on deviantart

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! it is the biggest compliment ever, you guys are too good to me

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

hahahahaha @carbonbased000

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

hard question! rpf is my favorite thing to write because I love making transformations within set biographical constraints, it is by far my favorite way to be creative, but there are so many ships with interesting dynamics. i’m true blue for peterick but i also love fic with older characters who are all gritty and wounded navigating overt and internalized homophobia, and girl ships are the stuff of life. some of my favorite ships I never write for (for example, kirk/spock or various lotr pairings) because like. I have absolutely nothing to add, it’s already perfect. lawrusso is my favorite of the moment because cobra kai is an absolutely WILD show, it’s a blast

14. What’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

UGH my ageswap peterick about Patrick letting everyone down again and again and again. literally I’ve been working on this fic for 5 years and only have like one scene left to write but it’s become a goddamn albatross around my neck

15. What are your writing strengths?

I’m funny and I use pretty words, and the fact that I want good things for all my characters shines through

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

will you laugh if I say plot? I am terrible at plots. almost all of my fics are just situations and how people react to them emotionally. the other thing is spatial descriptions, I can’t picture things in my head so i am wildly inconsistent and often just forget to add these in. oh, and I also get so lost in the dreamy emotional bits of people’s inner experiences that I lose my own narrative thread over and over and over again.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I love it if you’re a student of the language, bilingual, or get someone who is fluent to beta that shit for you. if you don’t have the skillset or resources to do it right, there’s a real risk of cultural appropriation and fetishizing someone’s foreignness, so I’d steer clear. there’s the question of what it adds to the experience of the fic, as a reader or a writer, that has to be considered

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

afi rpf, and I dead-ass thought I’d invented it. you shoulda seen my brain explode when i discovered an entire archive just for that.

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I’ve reached a level of pride in my skill that I love most of the fics I finish—if I don’t, I tend not to finish or post! so I’m usually enamored with my most recent stories and have a deep appreciation for most of my gallery. but I do literally have a girl out boy tattoo and that universe (and how my amazing readers participated in building it with me) will always be the most personally important to me, regardless of whether its technical merit is outstripped by newer works

i tag--who wants to do this tag? @leyley09 @sir-transcelot @alienfuckeronmain @carbonbased000 @allkindsofplatinumandpercocet @rhea-imagined @all my other lovelies who feel like doing writing reflection as a means of procrastinating actual writing