#I dunno it's hitting earlier and harder this time

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

being depressed emotionally but not mentally is. weird

my thoughts aren't dark, life doesn't feel hopeless, I know the mood will pass, I'm calm and at ease with that

but I still feel flat, tired, unenthusiastic about anything, I don't want to eat, I'm not drinking enough water, I didn't leave bed today until 6pm

but when I did I stood outside, I planted my bare feet in the wet grass, and for a moment I didn't feel so numb, for a moment it was nice. I enjoyed that. I was capable of enjoying that, even if briefly

it's like I'm stuck halfway, I feel like thunder without rain

just kinda weird

[mintsbubbletea]

𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐨 - 𝐄𝐮𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

Word Count: 2,500

Contains: She/her pronouns, digesting weed, sex, fingering, cursing, crying, p-in-v, unprotected sex, dunno if I miss anything

Proof read and Edited

A/N: also these are some of the experience I have when I was high so please enjoy lmao

Denki glanced at you with a curious expression as you both stood at the entrance of his dorm. "Y/n, are you really sure about giving this a shot?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips. Your nervousness was evident as you anxiously bit your lip. "I've never seen you do something like this before, so I just want to make sure," he teased with a smirk

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt and replied softly, "Yes, I'm sure." The uncertainty in your voice was palpable.

"Alright then," Denki said, using his head to gesture towards the inside of his dorm. He closed the door behind you as you stepped in. You found yourself sitting on his bed while he rummaged through his drawer. He turned back to face you and said, "Instead of smoking, I'll give you edibles. Since you've never tried it before, I don't want you to cough or anything. Also if we smoke Mr. Aizawa will find out cause of the smell” He chuckled and pulled out a pink candy bag.

You eyed the bag with curiosity and asked, "Are edibles better than smoking?" Denki made his way towards you and replied, "It really depends on the person. Sero prefers smoking, but I enjoy both methods.”

You nodded, attentively listening to Denki's explanation. He took out a gummy and handed it to you, saying, "Try this one. It's the mildest I have, only 10mg." The gummy was pink and shaped like a peach. You held it in your hand, examining it closely. Denki sat down next to you and popped one in his mouth.

After a moment of hesitation, you followed suit and put the gummy in your mouth. You chewed it and swallowed, cringing slightly at the aftertaste. "Yeah, the weed flavor kind of overpowers everything, sorry about that," Denki chuckled.

Curiosity got the better of Denki as he asked, "Does Sero know that you came to me?" You hesitated for a moment before replying, "Yeah, he does." It was a lie, though. Sero had promised to try it with you, but he always seemed to brush off the idea whenever you brought it up. You just wanted to give it a try, so you turned to Denki instead.

You and Denki were chatting in his room for an hour before Mina and Eijiro unexpectedly walked in to find you both laughing. "What's so funny?" Mina inquired, closing the door and removing her shoes. "Y/n wanted to try weed," Denki shared, stifling his laughter.

"Is this her first time?" Eijiro questioned, settling on the floor in front of you. Denki confirmed, and you blushed slightly from the earlier laughter. "I don't feel anything," you shrugged. Denki chuckled, shaking his head. "No, it's already hitting her. I'm not feeling it yet," he remarked as you gazed at the floor. Mina couldn't help but giggle at how you transitioned from talking to staring off. "Oh, I can see that."

"We brought snacks, perfect timing, right?" Eijiro mentioned, taking out some chips from his bag and tossing them around. You turned to Denki, who had white cheddar popcorn. "I want some," you reached out. He grinned, opening the bag and offering you some popcorn. "Do you want some?" he asked, and you nodded. He chuckled, handing you the bag, and you started munching, giggling softly.

One moment you were laughing and giggling, and the next, you were in tears. "Why would you say that?" you questioned Denki, while Mina hugged you as you cried. "I didn't say anything wrong," Denki defended himself, unsure of why you were crying. "I just mentioned that Gojo isn't that hot," he explained, causing you to cry even harder into Mina's embrace. Mina scolded Denki to be quiet before comforting you. "Don't cry, Y/n, Gojo is very attractive," she reassured, trying to cheer you up.

You lifted your head and glanced at Mina. "Right?" you sniffled, wiping away your tears with your hoodie sleeve. "Just look at him," you said, pulling out your phone and showing everyone your Gojo wallpaper. "But don't tell Sero he's my lockscreen," you added, putting a finger to your lips. "I change it when I'm with him." You let out a soft giggle. "Oh, don't worry, babes. He won't find out."

"Ugh, Mina, you're the best. I don't deserve you as a friend," you said, grabbing her face and giving her a gentle peck on the lips, causing her to blush. "Thank you?" she replied nervously.

"Oh, Sero's on his way with Bakubro," Eijiro announced as his phone beeped. You snapped your head towards him and shook it. "No, Sero can't find out I'm high," you said. "Huh? But you said he knew you came to me," Denki chimed in. You shook your head. "I'm terrible! I lied," you pouted. "He kept dismissing me whenever I mentioned it. He said I couldn't handle it, and I wanted to prove him wrong," you explained.

"He's going to kill us, Y/n! Mostly me," Denki groaned softly as you teared up, the effects of the weed making you even more emotional. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," you sniffled as tears streamed down your face. "No, no, don't cry, Y/n. He's almost here," Denki tried to comfort you, attempting to wipe away your tears, but they kept flowing as you cried harder. "Damn it."

"You're only making it worse, Denki," Eijiro scolded as he watched Denki's futile attempts to stop your tears. But everything fell silent when the door opened and Sero and Bakugo walked in. You turned your head away, making sure Sero couldn't see your face. "Why the hell is everyone so quiet?" Bakugo demanded as he took a seat nearby. Sero looked around, noticing your turned-away face and the nervous expression on Denki's face.

You let out a soft sniffle, and immediately Sero rushed over to you. "Hey, what's wrong, mi cielo?" he asked gently, cupping your face and noticing your puffy eyes. You tried to stay quiet, trembling lips and all. He looked into your eyes and saw how red they were, not just from crying. "Is she fucking high?" he asked, his jaw clenching. Everyone fell silent.

Bakugo scoffed. "Probably Denki gave her something. Mostly you and him smoke out of all of us," he said with a smirk, clearly hoping to provoke Sero into yelling at Denki. "Shut up, man!" Denki snapped at Bakugo, before feeling someone's intense gaze on him. "Denki," Sero warned. Denki was about to speak, but you cut him off. "I asked him to. I wanted to try it out," you sniffled again, and Sero sighed as he looked at you. "I'm sorry, Hanta," you said softly. "Don't apologize, Y/n," he reassured you, releasing your face.

"Let's just go, okay?" Sero gently took your hand and helped you up, leading you towards the door. "It's not her fault, man," Denki spoke up. "We'll talk tomorrow," Sero said, guiding you out. "Bye bye," you pouted, waving to your friends.

Sero led you to his room and closed the door behind you. You looked at him, wondering if he was mad. "Are you mad?" you asked hesitantly. He shook his head and looked at you. "No, mi cielo, I'm not," he said softly, taking off his shoes and lying down on his bed. "Come here," he patted the space next to him. Rubbing your eyes, you climbed onto the bed and snuggled up to his side. "Are you sure? You're acting different," you sniffled, resting your head on his chest while he ran his fingers through your hair. "I'm just upset in general, not at you, okay?" he reassured you, but his voice hinted at something more than just general upset.

You glanced up at him, questioning, "Was it because I went to Denki and not you?" observing his reaction. "Yeah," he murmured, causing your flushed face to pale. "Hanta-" Sitting up, tears welling in your eyes, you found yourself overwhelmed with emotion once more. "I'm so sorry," you apologized, tears streaming down your face. Sero couldn't help but chuckle at your tears. "Oh Y/n, please don't cry," he comforted, drawing you close and planting gentle kisses on your tear-stained face. "The only reason I brushed off your high talk was because I knew you'd react like this. You're such a lightweight, mi cielo. Just like the last time you got drunk, two cups and you were tipsy," he chuckled, as you listened, wiping your tears.

"Just come to me next time, and definitely don't go to Denki, okay?" he chuckled. "Okay," you sniffled, tears dampening his shirt. "I'm sorry," you mumbled once more. "Ya no mas," he said, cupping your face and silencing you with a kiss. After a few more minutes of cuddling, you found yourself pressing soft kisses to his neck, moving up for better access. Sero let out a soft hum, closing his eyes as his hand trailed down to the small of your back.

Feeling you slowly climb on top of him, your hips straddling his, your lips still on his neck, he placed his hands on your hips before asking, "What are you up to?"

"Making it up to you," you murmured, tracing your lips along his jaw. "Plus, I'm kinda horny," you giggled, barely touching his lips with a playful peck.

He looked up at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Really, huh?"he asked, a playful smirk curling his lips. "I can help with that," he chuckled, capturing your lips in a kiss. His hand reached up, gently cupping your face, pulling you closer, if that was even possible.

He flipped you over with ease, your body landing softly on his bed. He settled between your legs, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling gently as his free hand effortlessly slid your shorts down, leaving your lower half exposed. His hand found its way to your aching pussy his fingers pressing softly against your clit before pulling away from the kiss.

"We barely started, and you're soaking wet," he chuckled, his fingers circling your clit, earning a soft whine from you. "I'm telling you, its the weed," you giggled, your legs opening wider, craving to be filled. "Guess we should take some more often, huh?" he smiled down at you, reconnecting his lips with yours.

He continued to lavish attention on your aching pussy, his fingers deftly exploring your pleasure points with expertise, sliding two of his long fingers into your soaking cunt. He began to pump them in and out at a steady rhythm, creating lewd sounds of wetness that filled the room. In response, you gripped his forearm tightly, your back arching off the bed as you moaned and cursed, trying to reach for his lips even as your overwhelmed senses forced you to break the kiss. Your head fell into the pillow beneath you, and seeing this as a sign of your impending climax, he curled his fingers upwards, easily finding and stimulating the spot that could swiftly bring you to ecstasy. "Hanta" You squeaked out softly from the new sensation, a low chuckle left his lips feeling your reaction.

"That's a new sound, mi cielo",he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your jawline and sprinkling soft kisses along your ear. The rhythm of his fingers continues, finding your sweet spot over and over, causing you to moan once again as your hips rock, seeking more with each passing moment. You are so close to reaching your climax with his fingers.

"Do you want more?" he asks, already familiar with the intricacies of your body and your needs.

He withdraws from your ear and gazes down at you. You eagerly. "Yes" Your brows are furrowed, your lips slightly parted, allowing soft whimpers to escape. His eyes take in the sight, and he swears that your expression only amplifies his affection for you. He is the one who reduces you to a moaning, whimpering mess, and he is the one who brings tears to your eyes from the sheer pleasure. He smiles before pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

"Okay,"he replies, his voice husky with desire.

He withdraws his fingers from your cunt, and they glisten with your juices. A small whine escapes your lips at the loss of contact. He undoes his pants, pulling them down enough for his hardened cock to spring free. With a firm grip on his shaft, he positions himself and pushes inside your wet pussy, feeling the tip slide in through the slickness before pressing deeper and deeper. You tighten around him, eliciting a soft grunt from him as he fully seats himself inside you.

The intimacy of the moment was palpable, a quiet gasp escaping your lips as you felt him enter you. A wave of warmth flooded your body, a sensation that was both exhilarating and comforting. You reached up, pulling him closer for another kiss, your lips meeting in a passionate embrace. " love you," you whispered against his lips, your voice a soft murmur against his skin. He responded with an equally tender kiss, deepening the connection between you. 

His movements were slow and deliberate at first, savoring the shared pleasure. His hand rested gently on your waist, his elbow propped against the headboard, creating a barrier of intimacy around you. "I love you most," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. 

As his movements quickened, your breathing grew ragged, your body responding to his rhythm. A deep, primal moan escaped your lips, echoing the passion that filled the room. You dug your fingers into his hair, the intensity of the moment pushing you towards a peak. 

The air grew thick with anticipation, the sound of skin meeting skin creating a symphony of pleasure. His hand moved to your leg, gently opening it, allowing him deeper access. His rhythm intensified a primal rhythm that echoed through your core, leaving both of you breathless. 

"Hanta" you moaned out, Your body arching off the bed, muscles clenching as you reached your climax. The feeling was overwhelming, a wave of pleasure that washed over you, leaving you trembling in his arms. You moaned into his mouth, the sound raspy and desperate, mirroring the intensity of your emotions. 

Sero, mirroring your intensity, reached his peak moments later, a guttural moan leaving his lips. "Fuck, Y/n," he cried out, pulling out as he released his cum on your stomach.

The room fell silent, the air filled with the lingering scent of sex. Both of you were spent, panting softly, your foreheads pressed together as you caught your breath. He stole a kiss, a tender gesture that conveyed the depth of his affection. 

Reaching over to his nightstand, he grabbed a tissue, gently wiping the cum from your stomach. "You doing okay, mi cielo?" he asked, his voice soft and concerned. 

You snuggled closer, resting your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "More than okay," you whispered.

tags: @slayfics Lmk if you wanna be added 🐸

[fridurwrites]

@eldest-of-katts Yo! Happy truce! I tried pushing two of your prompts together into one, I hope I did them justice. AO3 Link here!

Pride, Anxiety, and Awkward Teenage Confessions

“Er. Mr. Lancer?”

William Lancer looks up from the final he’s putting together. It’s early morning, June first. The sun is barely starting to come up, the dew still fresh on the plants outside.

In theory, he came in to finish working on the draft of his English 2 final in peace. So what in the City of Night is the chronically late freshman Danny Fenton doing here already, peeking around the corner of his office door?

Actually, hold onto that thought. Danny’s still got eye bags the size of the old purse in Will’s closet and he looks rough, like he’s been in a fight of some kind. There was a ghost fight earlier in the morning, but Danny shouldn’t look like he’d taken part. Will carefully slides the unfinished test draft into his desk drawer before gesturing to the other chair in the room. He wants to tread carefully here. Danny isn’t in the habit of coming to him with problems, but it’s no secret that the kid has plenty to spare. “Is something the matter, Danny?”

Danny hesitates, then slips inside. “I dunno. What’s with the tie and flag and all that?”

“What do you mean? I know you’re familiar with pride flags.” Will says, eyebrows knitting. He really hopes he’s not wrong about that, or- worse- that he isn’t about to hear something wildly out of character for the boy.

“I- er-” Danny fumbles for a moment. “I mean, of course I am, I just wasn’t- why are you wearing, uh?”

Ah. Well, that’s not unheard of. Students always seem to think their teachers’ lives begin and end with the ringing of the school bell. Will quirks an eyebrow, giving Danny a smirk. “I would think that’s rather obvious?”

Danny’s face goes through a few stages of bafflement before finally landing in the realm of realization. It’s hilarious. Will has to carefully school his face not to give away just how amusing it is, actually. It’s not like Danny has any reason to have thought about this, but watching him rationalize the idea that his teacher is more than just the bald man that knows way too much about old books and plays is really entertaining. 

Finally, the kid settles on a breathless “Oh.” before sinking his head into his hands.

Will is probably not supposed to hear the way he mumbles something about getting his head hit harder than he thought. He blanches for a moment, makes a herculean effort to recover, then clears his throat. “Are you all right, Danny?”

“Mhuh?” Danny lifts his head, frowning, then nods slowly. “Yeah, sorry.”

That’s unsurprisingly hard to believe. Will returns his frown, leaning back in his chair. How best to approach this?

“Why are you here, anyway? School doesn’t begin for another two hours.” 

“Oh, uh. Just. Had to take care of some things early.” Danny’s eyes fall to his hands. “Didn’t feel like going home, so here I am.”

Will frowns. He could ask. He should, probably. But he’s had enough experience asking Danny questions when the kid feels evasive that he knows it’ll be a losing battle, and both kids have vehemently denied any concerns that their parents are responsible for the various injuries Danny occasionally sports.

He’s still thinking about how he might find out why Danny didn’t want to go home at six in the morning on a Monday when the kid’s intense stare snaps back up to him. “Can I ask you a weird question, Mr. Lancer?”

“Of course.” Will says, automatically. The mystery gets pushed aside in favor of helping in the immediate.

“So, um- you’re gay, right?”

“I identify as bisexual.” Danny makes an odd face, then shrugs. “Close enough. How did you know that you like guys?”

Ah. So the morning takes another twist and turn. Still, Lancer’s had this conversation with questioning students before. “If you’re looking for a dramatic story, I’m afraid it’s not quite that interesting. I had just started college and I realized my feelings for my best friend at the time were a lot more involved than just enjoying his company when I went out on a date with a woman and kept picturing him in her place.”

Danny’s face goes a bit pink. “What’d he say about it?”

Will smiles, watching his student closely. Now that’s interesting. “Ah, you know, it took me weeks to finally tell him how I felt. Things weren’t as simple back then, so I had to work up the courage. It turned out he was straight, but I don’t regret it. We still talk, and through him I met my actual first boyfriend.”

“He wasn’t mad?”

“Stone Butch Blues, no! He was flattered!” Will laughs. “Flattered, and glad that I’d trusted him enough to tell him.”

“Huh.” Danny tilts his head. It reminds Will of a curious puppy, not that he’d ever tell the boy that. “How’d you tell him?”

“Well, I had come up with this elaborate speech, studied all the best poetry I could find, but when I went to try to tell him about it not a single line stayed in my head. I wound up just outright asking him out to dinner.” Will shakes his head. “Not my finest moment, but he seemed to think it was a lot better when he did eventually read what I’d been planning on saying.”

Danny snorts, then stiffens, but Will smiles with as much acceptance and kindness as he can. “We still bring it up, sometimes. It’s good for a laugh, especially now that I teach English.”

“I- huh.” Danny fidgets again. “Um. Well. Thanks, Mr. Lancer, I, uh. Sorry I interrupted whatever you were doing.”

Will waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Are you heading home now?”

“Ah, eh.” Danny shrugs. “I kinda thought I’d just find somewhere to take a nap or something? Is that allowed?”

Will tries very hard not to scowl the way he finds himself wanting to. Sure, there’s not that much time before classes begin, but he thought he’d take a nap somewhere on campus? “Where were you thinking you’d do that, exactly?”

Danny rubs the back of his neck, frowning, like he’s just realizing maybe he said something he shouldn’t have. “Uh.”

The boy’s eyes go wide when Will gets up, and he starts to stand as well, only to pause when Will walks over to the corner of his office and grabs a box of textbooks off of the covered recliner there. It takes a few moments to clear the chair off enough to pull the sheet off of it, but when he does, Danny’s eyes go wide. 

“I had a period where I was getting migraines in the middle of the day.’” Will explains, balling the sheet up and tossing it into the adjacent corner. He can deal with it later. “Amy was vice principal then, and she helped me sneak this in to rest on during lunches.”

“Amy?” Danny asks, squinting.

“Ah. Principal Ishiyama, sorry.” Will shrugs. “Anyway, I’m just going to be doing some work. If you want to use it, you’re welcome to. I’d rather you be somewhere secure than in an empty classroom or in one of the halls.”

Danny’s still squinting at him, like he can’t quite determine if Will’s genuine or not. Will doesn’t say anything. He’s starting to think he should treat Danny almost more like a cat, and so he sits back down at his desk, pulls out the exam he was working on before, and gets back to it without another glance at the kid.

It takes a whole five more minutes before Danny’s curled up in the chair, quickly falling asleep. Will sighs quietly, makes a note to call Jasmine- not the Doctors, he’s learned that lesson after one too many times having to clean up a classroom after the tornado named Jack Fenton tore through it- and lets himself focus on his work again. 

It probably says something unkind about his home life that when Danny woke up from his nap in Lancer’s office, he felt more rested than he had in months. He decided not to think about it, thanked Lancer for the chair, and went to get his books from his locker and his backpack from the wall he’d phased it into earlier.

He had other things to worry about, anyway.

He still does, halfway into fourth period. 

It’s just that Tucker is right there, okay? And at some point today, emboldened by Lancer’s words (which, wow, not something he imagined he’d ever be thinking) he really, really wants to tell him that. Well. Okay, they’re fourteen, and it’s probably nothing, and Tucker’s so loud about the girls he wants to date, and.

Whatever. Point is, Danny wants to tell him about the way his stomach gets all weird when he’s carrying Tucker somewhere as Phantom. He wants to say that he keeps stopping himself from grabbing Tucker’s hand when they’re walking together. He wants to let him know that he’s listened to him ramble about tech or code or games or whatever he wants to talk about since they were old enough to have interests like that and he still doesn’t think he’ll get sick of it. 

He thinks he’d rather fight Pariah again without the ecto-suit than have to figure out a way to actually voice those things, and yet. Lancer said his friend had been flattered. Lancer said they still talked. 

He’s lost in his head when the bell rings, and startles bad when Tucker nudges his shoulder. “Bwhuh?”

“You good? Class ended like two minutes ago and you just sat there staring.”

Danny stares at his crush friend for a long moment, then nods, getting up and grabbing his bag. Lunchtime means a chance to make this happen before his nerve disappears entirely. “Yeah. Um. You think we could, maybe, talk?”

Tucker gives him an odd look. “Sure?”

He- he really hopes he hasn’t already sabotaged this. He might still before he even gets to the really scary part. “Without Sam?”

That makes Tucker frown, and for a moment Danny’s heart rate reaches something akin to a healthy resting level for a normal person again. “Uh. I guess, but she’s gonna be waiting for us already at the cafeteria? It’s Monday, so, you know.”

Danny does know. One of the lingering vestiges of Sam’s somewhat insufferable past moralizing about her veganism is Monday, the dreaded veggies and rice day. They’ve all grown up a lot in the months since then, he’d like to think, but she still seems to find a vindictive kind of pleasure in watching Tucker choke the vegetables down. 

Even if he’s sympathetic, even if this is his crush, he’s secretly at least glad that Tucker has one meal away from home that’s not greasy and protein-laden. He’d like both his closest friends to last longer than he did as something that can be called alive, thank you. He sighs anyway, puts on a grimace that he thinks Lancer’s drama elective would probably give him a good grade for, and wraps an arm around Tucker’s shoulders as they walk.

He’s going for comforting, in theory, but he doesn’t let go even when the pair find Sam waiting for them next to the cafeteria door as usual. Tucker’s warm. He always has been, and humans are all warm compared to Danny now, but something about Tucker’s warmth makes him want to hold it close. 

Or maybe he’s just gayer than he’s ready to admit. ‘Liking boys’ and ‘crushing on Tucker’ is already a lot to accept about himself, he feels, so he pushes that thought aside and flashes a nervous grin at Sam. “Heeeey.”

She stares at him for a long moment, then rolls her eyes. “What is it this time?” “Nothing bad! I just need to talk to Tuck. Alone. We didn’t wanna no-show you though.”

Their friend narrows her eyes in just the right predator-glare way that Danny wonders if Dora’s amulet didn’t have some kind of lasting effect. He shrinks a bit under her gaze, and Tucker snorts. 

“I dunno what’s up with him, but I think this time it’s not actually anything huge. Probably just the reason he was spaced out all last period.” 

Sam blinks at that, and the pressure Danny swears he feels from her attention fades. She glances between the pair, then- to his abject horror- a smirk slowly pulls at her lips. “Oh, really?”

Danny manages a reedy noise before clearing his throat and nodding. She’s been onto him for a while, he realized that a week ago, but in a rare show of restraint she hasn’t actually said anything. He almost wishes she would’ve, because maybe then he would’ve started thinking about it sooner, but a Sam that doesn’t make your business her business is a precious thing and he’s not about to complain too much.

“Well.” Sam says, and fuck, he’s blushing, isn’t he? His blood might be thick and cool compared to a normal human’s, but he can still feel the way it rushes to his face so hard it colors the tips of his ears. “I’m going to eat my delicious lunch by myself, and if you two need me to, I’ll cover for you with Falluca.” Tucker huffs. “You’re just in a good mood because it’s Monday.”

“Sure.” Sam’s smirk is sharp and unrelenting. “Have fun with whatever you’re off to do, but I want details later.”

“Yeah.” Danny squeaks, his voice cracking, and if he weren’t in such a public space he’d just vanish into invisibility and try this again tomorrow after something like that. “Cool. Later, Sam.”

She shoots him a completely conspicuous wink before she marches off into the throngs of students behind the cafeteria door, leaving the boys alone in the hallway.

Great. 

Before Tucker can say anything, Danny’s pulling him toward the nearest empty room. If he waits, if something interrupts them, he’ll lose the momentum that’s gotten him this far. He can’t afford that. Can’t allow it. If even Mr. Lancer could do this, surely he can too. 

Once the door is shut firmly behind them, he releases his hold on Tucker and takes a deep breath. “So, uh.”

His friend raises an eyebrow, and Danny stutters over nonsense syllables for a moment before settling on “I need to tell you something really important?”

“More important than lunch?” 

“More important than anything.” Danny says, hands twisting around each other nervously. 

Tucker blinks, then reaches out and puts his hand on Danny’s shoulder. Danny tries not to lean into his touch like some kind of touch-starved cat. “You mean that, huh? This is serious-serious.”

Danny nods once. 

“Okay.” Tucker frowns. “You’re not like, dying the rest of the way, right?”

“What? No! Besides, I’d tell both of you if it was something like that!” Danny squawks. 

“Hey, it’s not like you haven’t been weird about ghost stuff before!” 

“I promised to keep you both in the loop after the whole ‘ghost cold’ thing!”

Tucker rolls his eyes. “Well if it’s not something like that, then what else is so important, huh?”

Danny’s mouth feels like someone glued his tongue down, suddenly. He swallows to try and clear the feeling away. “It’s, uh. About. Um, crud, I mean- I think I, uh, maybe- do you like guys?”

Tucker looks at him like he’s struggling to parse the words Danny stuttered out. When his brain catches up, his eyes widen, and Danny’s sure this is the moment of rejection at best. Tucker’s been his friend since they were in diapers, why did he think this was something worth risking that over, Lancer said he was in college when he asked and Sam was probably just teasing him, and-

“I,” Tucker manages, before he pauses again and makes his ‘thinking’ face. Danny’s seen it countless times when Tucker’s elbow-deep in a problem and dialed in on solving it. It’s rare for it to come out in a conversation like this, but, well.

Danny’s used to feeling like a problem to be solved. He’s just not used to feeling that way around the people he’s closest to. It kinda sucks, but it’s not that much worse than the building heartache, so, you know. 

“I don’t know? I guess, uh, hm.” Tucker says, and Danny’s brain feels like it’s lagging out. Huh. “I guess I never really thought too hard about it before? But I mean, Too Fine Foley should be for everyone, maybe?” He makes a weak attempt at a grin. Danny stares at him in disbelief, and Tucker plows on through the awkwardness. “Why do you wanna know?”

“Er.” Danny thinks- well, he thinks he needs someone to smack him like a cartoon record player. Tucker’s not saying any variation of no, though. He honestly didn’t think he’d get this far. “I. I think I do. Like guys. Well, a guy. Maybe?”

Tucker’s face does something complicated. There’s the tickle of nerves and hope mingling in Danny’s sinuses, as much as he’s trying not to cheat with his weird empath bullshit. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The pair stare at each other for what feels like an eternity.

“It’s, um. It’s you. I mean. The guy I, y’know, like.” Danny says, because the silence feels like it’s clawing at the inside of his skin. 

Tucker exhales an “Ohthankgod”, then reaches forward and pulls Danny into one of the tightest hugs either of them has ever experienced. Danny’s instantly glad he doesn’t actually need to breathe, wrapping Tucker up in a hug of his own. It’s more restrained- a confession like this would be ruined by accidental use of ghostly strength- but he thinks he’s got it just right to feel no less secure.

Then, maybe because they’re both a little overwhelmed and Danny’s basking in the open love and relief that pour off Tucker to the point it maybe has him a bit giddy, he plants his hands on Tucker’s cheeks and pushes the most awkward, genuine, meaningful kiss a fourteen year old has ever managed onto his friend-crush-boyfriend-whatever’s lips. 

It’s not a good kiss, really, and Danny will probably remember that much. Their noses are uncomfortable scrunched against each other, he’s off-center, he’s pushing Tucker’s glasses up with his face. It doesn’t matter, because it’s him kissing the boy he spent the last year realizing he kinda maybe loves in ways that don’t make sense if he just wants to stay simply best friends. 

It’s not until Tucker pushes at his shoulders that he realizes that the other boy needs to breathe still, and he pulls back, both of them gasping and grinning and so red in the face they’ll both be sent to the nurse if they get caught right now.

“Holy shit.” Tucker says. Then he grins again. “You are ass at kissing, dude. I gotta work on that with you.” Danny gawps at him. “Hey, I think that was pretty good for a dead dude’s first try! Not all of us practiced in a mirror like you did!” They stare at each other. Tucker starts giggling, and Danny follows suit, and they end up falling over each other in a mutual laughing fit.

When they finally emerge from the classroom several minutes later, it’s with Tucker refusing to let go of Danny’s hand. And when Lancer passes them in the hall, eyes landing on their locked fingers, all he does is smile and nod, a quiet and knowing sort of congratulations.

Sam’s first words in the cafeteria that day are “Finally! Took you long enough.”

Danny can’t help but agree. 

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader

during - part seven

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

tommy takes care of joel as best he can, and you try and make a break for it.

a/n: y’all I am having way too much fun writing this story. part 7 earlier than planned, and tbh I’ll probably post part 8 tomorrow if I can. the inspo is REAL and thank you all for the comments and reblogs and messages and general love and support - you have no idea how happy it makes me!! 🤍

word count: 4.6k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, canon-typical violence and injuries, death, blood, near-death experiences, questionable decisions on the military’s part

✨follow @friskito-library for updates on new works/chapters!✨

Tommy watches his brother fall apart.

It’s one thing after another, and he can’t blame Joel. The world’s ending; everything else is falling apart, it only makes sense that he would too. But still, it hurts. Watching his big brother — the only constant in his life for as long as he can remember — break down, it makes Tommy hurt in a way he can’t fully comprehend. It’s not fair.

He thinks about the soldier, in the days that follow. He’d come up the ridge just as the gunfire sounded, already looking for his brother and niece, never expecting to find them the way that he did. Joel was pleading, already hurt, his hands in the air, as good a white flag as any, and the soldier just didn’t care. It went against everything in Tommy, but when the soldier lifted the gun again, Tommy fired first.

But then…Sarah.

There was so much blood. He should be used to it, being who he is, seeing what he’s seen. But it’s different, it feels different, it sits in the back of his mind and haunts his every step. She was so young. So bright, so good. And then just, gone.

“Tommy, help me!”

He’d never heard Joel like that, so desperate, so lost. The only moment that rivalled it was when they’d been in the truck, Tommy driving, Joel with his cell phone pressed to his ear. Talking to you, asking where you were, if you were safe.

“It’s everywhere,” Joel had said, and Tommy had felt a distinct feeling of helplessness wash through him. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t just in Austin. He focused on the road, tried not to look too closely at the chaos in the distance. Shit was hitting the fan, in every sense.

He tightened his grip on the wheel as Joel continued talking to you. You were hurt, Joel telling you to patch yourself up. “I’m not hanging up until you do.”

Tommy could hear the ache in his brother’s voice. Joel had never let you go, not completely, and Tommy knew it. He didn’t blame Joel for it; having you around was the happiest he’d seen his brother in a long time. He liked you, too, liked your laugh and your sense of humour, the way you looked at Joel like you were seeing him for the first time, every time.

He had to swerve the truck as another car barrelled down the road in the opposite direction. Joel grabbed for the dashboard, phone still glued to his ear. “I’m gonna find you, you hear me? Just get out of Boston and I swear to you, I’m gonna find you!” A pause, and Joel stared at the phone. Tommy could see his brother’s hands shaking. “It’s dead.”

A moment later, the radio — which had been spewing news reports since Joel had picked Tommy up — went silent. Joel tossed his phone onto the truck floor, slammed his fist into the dash a moment later.

“Fuck!”

“She okay?” Tommy asked, and Joel scrubbed a hand over his face. “Joel?”

“Boyfriend attacked her,” Joel grumbled, rubbing his forehead again. “Tried to fuckin’ bite her. She said he’s dead.”

Tommy had balked. “She did that?”

“Dunno,” Joel had replied, and huffed a humourless laugh, the noise almost flat. “Is it fucked up if I say I hope she did?”

Tommy had pressed the gas a little harder, the truck speeding down the road. “Everything’s fucked up, seems like.” Silence hung over them only for a moment, punctuated a moment later by the loud whoosh of flames as a car down the road collided with a telephone pole. Joel cursed under his breath, Tommy kept on driving. “What are we gonna do, Joel?”

“We get Sarah, and we go,” his brother replied, and despite the waver in his voice, he sounded sure. Surer than Tommy felt. “East.”

East, Tommy thought. Boston. You. Like he’d expected anything different. “You really think you can find her?”

“I can sure as hell try.”

The conversation feels like a year ago, instead of the handful of days it has been. Maybe a week; he’s starting to lose track, already. They’ve been holed up for a few hours now, tucked in the garage of an abandoned house. They crossed the state line a few hours back, and so far, Arkansas looks the same as Texas: fucking ravaged. Joel sits on the floor, knees up to his chest, face buried in his arms. Tommy feels antsy.

“I’m gonna go look inside, see if there’s anything worth taking. You good?”

“Yeah.”

Seems like every neighbourhood they come across has been evacuated, the houses all empty. They have guns; he already had his own, and he’d swiped the rifle from the soldier that had attacked Joel and Sarah. Though he was quick to give Joel his, take the soldier’s for himself. Something about Joel touching the weapon that had killed Sarah made Tommy’s gut twist. He didn’t like it either, but it was out of necessity.

The house has obviously been picked through, toppled furniture and broken glass as far as he can tell, but they get lucky: a first aid kit, a mostly full bottle of whiskey, and some cans of beans. Tommy grabs it all, heads up the stairs. Clearly an older couple, but there’s a few men’s jackets in one of the closets, a pair of work boots, plain t-shirts. He takes the lot, offering the boots to Joel when he gets back to the garage. “These your size?”

His brother takes the boots with a flat expression, pulling the laces to peer at the sole. “About there, yeah. Don’t need ‘em though.”

“Take ‘em with us, for when you do,” Tommy counters, offering Joel one of the t-shirts next. “You should change.”

“M’fine.”

Tommy hooks the gun over his head, setting it on the ground beside him as he crouches in front of Joel. “You’re covered in blood,” he says, and his brother snatches the t-shirt. “Need to change your bandage, too.”

“And what exactly do you want me to—” Joel starts, but shuts up when Tommy tosses the first aid kit to him.

“Need help?” he asks as Joel gets to his feet, pulls his stained t-shirt off, tosses it aside. They’d found a half empty kit in a cafe back in Austin, dressed Joel’s wound before they took off completely. Joel was lucky, just a graze, but Tommy knows it must hurt like hell, and it’ll leave a scar, a reminder of that night, of what was lost.

Joel winces as he pulls of the old bandage, tossing it in the same direction as the t-shirt. “Don’t suppose you found any water in there?” He digs through the first aid kit. “No antiseptic.”

“No water,” Tommy confirms, but holds up the bottle of whiskey. “Just this.”

It’s not ideal, using the alcohol to clean the graze — and Joel nearly puts his fist through the wall despite the healthy sip he takes before Tommy wipes a piece of gauze damp with the whiskey over the wound — but it’ll work. They have to make do.

Joel sinks back onto the concrete floor once the wound is redressed, the new t-shirt pulled over his head. He takes the whiskey with him, and Tommy sits beside his brother, both of them with rifles in their laps. They sip the bottle in turn, and Tommy savours the burn as it slides down his throat, warmth spreading through his chest. It loosens his tongue, makes him regret the question the second it’s out of his mouth.

“You think she made it?” He knows he doesn’t have to call you by name. Not now.

“I have to,” is his brother’s only response.

+

They stop you at the gate.

You don’t know what you’re thinking, but after staking out the giant metal fence for a few hours, you at least know that trying to sneak over is only going to result in a bullet finding a home somewhere it shouldn’t. The soldiers were firing at anything that made a break for the gate, and running full-force didn’t make you brave, it made you stupid. It made you look like one of them. Infected. Mindless. Blood-thirsty. A few have come sprinting up to the post you’ve been watching, and the soldiers have put them down without batting an eye.

As you’ve watched, a few groups of people have approached the post. All the same, their hands in the air, desperation in their voices, carried to you on the smoke-tinged breeze. Please help us. You’ve watched them get directed away from the post, towards a still-standing building a few yards from the gate, where a military-issue tent is set up. Some of them walk back out, are directed towards an armoured truck parked along the gate, and then the truck disappears, only for a new one to reappear in its stead a few minutes later. It’s like clockwork, but only some end up in the trucks.

Others are carried out the back of the tent, bodies dumped into one of the pits left by the bombing. It makes your skin crawl.

It takes a while, lacking the confidence to put yourself in the line of fire when you could just keep hiding in the city. The soldiers might find you eventually — if the Infected didn’t find you first — but if you could just keep going, maybe there was a break in the fence somewhere, a way out besides what lies ahead of you. But finally, after a few hours of squatting in the rubble, your limbs aching from staying pressed against brick, you step out of the alley, and put your hands in the air. You’ve pulled down the sleeves of the hoodie you’re wearing, letting it cover the bandage around your arm, and you grip the cuffs with your fingers as you raise your arms.

“I’m not infected!”

A flash of movement, and the barrels of at least ten rifles are pointed directly at you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, bile rising in the back of your throat. A suitable reaction, you think, and you swallow back the fear that makes you want to run. It’ll only get you killed that much faster.

“Name!” one of the soldier’s shouts. You can’t tell who; they’re all wearing helmets, visors covering their faces, turning it into a sea of darkness staring back at you. Your fingers flex, and you call you name back.

“I need to leave.”

One of them starts laughing. Another two look at each other, sharing a look you can’t suss out. A few lower their guns, and the prickle along your spine fizzles slightly. A visor lifts, revealing a soot-streaked face, a grim expression. “Why on earth would you wanna do that?”

“My family is in Texas,” you say, your voice surprisingly strong, if not a little thready from the smoke. “I have to go find them.”

“You’re gonna walk halfway across the country,” a faceless voice asks, “with a baseball bat? Girl, you don’t have a hope in hell.”

“Beats sitting around here, waiting to die,” you throw back, and the soldier that had lifted his visor lifts his brow. “Let me pass.”

“Can’t do that,” he replies, and steps up in front of you. He’s got a strange face, eyes a little too dark, hair hidden by the helmet, a scar on his mouth. Something about him reminds you of Dean, but a much harder version, his face more angular, the voice slightly deeper. “No one gets out of the city, we have orders.”

“You can’t hold me hostage here,” you start, stepping towards him. Your hands are still in the air. “My family is out there, I need to—”

“No one gets out,” another soldier interrupts. “FEDRA’s orders.”

Your brow creases. “FEDRA?”

“Federal Disaster Response Agency,” the strange-faced soldier answers.

“So the military is taking over?”

“I never said that.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Just let me go, please? I can’t stay here, my family—”

“Is in Texas,” the soldier replies, nodding along. He hefts his gun slightly, adjusting his grip, and you don’t miss the meaning, the silent threat behind it. “And you’re here, in Boston. Now you don’t have a car, or any real weapons, and we have orders. You’re not going anywhere.”

You bite back the protest that crawls up your throat. If you’re getting out, it’s not through here. “Then where am I supposed to go?”

“There’s a shelter,” he tells you, “in the mall. There’s food, water, beds. It’s temporary, but it’s safe.”

“Temporary, like the gate?”

He gives you a long look, then gestures towards the tent you’ve been watching them shuffle people through. “Let’s get you checked out, and then we’ll get you there.”

You match his stare, setting your jaw, digging your heels in slightly. The muzzle of his rifle dips just slightly, and his eyes pinch, narrowing at you.

“I’ll only ask nicely once.”

Heart in your throat, you drop your hands, and when he gestures towards the tent again, you go. Every single part of you is shaking as you head for the canvas structure, and once you’re inside, it’s no different. It’s shockingly clean, a metal table in the middle, a smaller one to the side. “Put your bag there,” the soldier orders, that familiar stern military tone, pointing to the bigger table. “The bat, too.”

You do as you’re told, seeing from the corner of your eye that he’s still got both hands on his gun. “I’m keeping the bat,” you say over your shoulder, pulling it out from where you’d slid it between the straps of the bag, resting against your lower back. The metal rings when you set it on the table. “For the record.”

“Never said you couldn’t keep it, did I?”

“You want me to go to that shelter in the mall,” you say, sliding the bag off your shoulders, placing it next to the bat, and then turning back to the soldier, “with every other terrified person in this city, and you expect me to believe you’re gonna let me walk in with a weapon?”

The soldier’s jaw goes tight, eyes even tighter. “Strip.”

“Excuse me?”

“Take your clothes off,” he says, clearly getting exasperated. “I might let you keep the bat, but there’s no way I’m letting you into the mall shelter knowing you’ve been bitten. Strip.”

“Bitten?” you repeat, your mind sparking at the new information. “Is that how this is spreading?” To appease him, hoping he’ll give you a bit more information, you pull the hoodie off, disentangling your arms slowly. “That’s what’s turning people into those—”

The hoodie comes off, revealing your bandaged shoulder and forearm, and the gun is pointed back in your face again, a soft click reaching your ears. “You’re injured.”

“Y’know, I usually like to at least know a guy’s name before he sees me half-naked.”

He ignores you. “You’re injured.”

You heave a breath, tucking the edge of the gauze around your arm back into place. “You dropped bombs on this city. I dare you to find someone out there who isn’t injured.”

The soldier just stares at you. You just stare back.

“Take the bandages off,” he orders, and your hands curl into fists. “I need to see.”

“Tell me your name first,” you counter, still holding his gaze.

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“I’m aware; you’re the one holding the gun. But I also know you’ve been taking bodies out of this tent more than you’ve been sending people to the shelter. So, again, tell me your name.”

He leans back slightly, takes a deep breath, eyes darting to the side before meeting yours again. “Corporal Nicholas Cowan, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” you repeat, almost laughing. “That’s a bit much, but—”

“The bandages.”

“Okay, okay.”

Carefully, you peel back the gauze on your shoulder. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches or anything, and you’d slathered it with some kind of ointment in the first aid kit. It still looks pretty awful, and the tape along the edge of the bandage has left little indents in your skin, but it’s definitely healing. Your arm is next, that wound fresher, and it starts to bleed as soon as you pull the gauze away. Cowan gives you a new piece of gauze a moment later, tossing it onto the table between you rather than handing it right to you. “What happened?”

“I was in the bookstore, down on South Street, when you all decided to start dropping bombs. Fucking lucky a bookshelf didn’t fall on my head.”

He still has the gun pointed at you, though the grip is slightly more relaxed, and he circles you slowly, eyes glued to your shoulder. “Those look like claw marks.”

“That’s because they are.”

“So that happened before the bombs.”

“It did.”

“I’m supposed to shoot, the moment I see anything like that. I have orders.”

“It’s not a bite.”

“I know that.” He swallows so hard you can see his throat bob. “They haven’t figured it all out. The bite seems to make it happen faster, but I don’t know if—”

“I’ll tell you what, Corporal,” you interrupt, reaching for your bag, pulling the first aid kit out and fishing out new bandages, “I start to turn into one of those things, and I give you my full permission to blow my fucking brains out.” Cowan balks, his eyes widening for a moment as he stares back at you. “But for the record, it’s been seven days, and I’m still here, faculties intact. So, politely, go fuck yourself, and just let me through the gate.”

+

He doesn’t.

Cowan lets you redress, once your bandages have been hastily rewrapped; you’d protested and he told you they’d give you proper treatment at the shelter. Once that was done, you grabbed your pack — and the bat, which Cowan barely seemed to notice — and he grabbed you roughly by the arm, dragging you out of the tent and steering you towards one of the armoured trucks parked at the fence.

You’re all but stuffed inside, and Cowan gets into the passenger’s seat, a masked soldier behind the wheel. “The mall,” he says simply, and the soldier just nods, and the engine rumbles to life, pulling away from the chain link and heading back into the city.

You keep the bat in your lap as they drive, your eyes glued to the window, to the mess that now only partially resembles Boston. You’d seen enough of the destruction running through the streets, but the truck takes a few pathways you hadn’t. Some roads aren’t as destroyed, obviously not targeted by the bombs, and the asphalt is even, still intact. There’s no getting past the bodies, however, and that pulls your eyes away, staring down at your bruised and dirty hands, wrapped around the bat.

When the truck stops outside the mall, the driver doesn’t get out. You lift your head then, taking in the space around you. It’s more of the same, but the mall looks mostly undisturbed, except for the broken windows, the burned displays. Cowan slides out of the passenger’s side, pulls open your door a moment later. “Let’s go.”

There are three more soldiers standing at the entrance, and as Cowan starts to lead you through, one of them stops you, lifting a hand. “You can’t take that in there,” the soldier says, pointing to the bat. “Give it here.”

“No.”

Cowan sighs, turning back to you, waving off the soldier. “C’mon, just—”

“No,” you say again, your voice harder. “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m walking around this city without it.”

“You’re safe in the mall,” Cowan says, nearly rolling his eyes at you, but you just lift a brow. “It’s a shelter, and we’re patrolling from the outside.” He points over his shoulder, and sure enough, you see a few more armoured trucks rolling across the street, armed soldiers trailing behind it. Like it makes a difference.

You almost laugh. “Nowhere is safe anymore.” You tighten your grip on the bat. “You really think your chain link fence is gonna save us from those things?”

He gives you another one of those hard stares, but relents, waving off the other soldiers and grabbing the handle on your bag, all but dragging you through the entrance. “If she attacks someone, it’s on you, Cowan!” one of the soldier’s shouts, and he just grumbles under his breath.

“Do me a favour,” he says to you as he releases you, making you stumble a step before he falls into step beside you, “don’t be more trouble than you’re worth.”

“And what am I worth, Corporal?”

“You’re alive, and you’re not one of them,” he says, and you don’t miss the thread of…is that hope, in his voice? “So that makes you worth something.”

He’s quiet, the rest of the way. There’s no electricity, the overhead fluorescents dark, and Cowan clicks on a flashlight, lighting your path deeper into the mall. There’s the whir of generators, as you get closer, big lights that looks like they were taken from construction sites. You see the food court has been turned into a makeshift hospital, and Cowan tells you the big department store on the main level is where you’ll sleep, for the time being.

There aren’t that many people, which makes your throat go a little thick. How many people have died, how many have turned, how many made it out of Boston before they put up the fence?

Cowan takes your arm again as you walk towards the food court, calling for someone as you get closer. “Deanna! I got one for you.”

An older lady, maybe late fifties, pokes her head out from behind one of the triage curtains. Her face is both kind and harsh at the same time, bright green eyes, grey-streaked hair pulled into a long ponytail, blood-stained scrubs and a tool belt around her waist that’s filled with medical instruments instead of actual tools. It almost makes you laugh.

“Must be special,” she says, her voice a little gravelly as she approaches you, wiping her hands on her pants. “You don’t usually escort them all the way down here, Nicky.” Her eyes drop to the bat in your hands and her brows raise. “Or let them come in armed.”

Once she’s close enough, Cowan releases you and takes Deanna by the arm, steering her off to the side. You stand there awkwardly, the bat banging against your leg. Your forearm is a little sore, and you’re half-sure it’s soaked through the bandages you’d haphazardly retied after Cowan’s inspection. You glance over at the pair a few times, seeing them both shooting you looks before turning back to each other. Deanna looks confused, then upset, then almost forgiving. You can’t quite figure out Cowan’s expression.

After a few minutes, she just nods, and Cowan turns on his heel, heading back in the direction you came, leaving you alone. Deanna gives you a once-over as she walks towards you again, putting a warm hand on your back and starting to steer you towards one of the curtains. “Let’s get you cleaned up, honey.”

She leads you behind one of the curtains, then another, and once you’re in the little makeshift room, she pulls another curtain into place. “Nicky said we need to be quick about this,” she says, leaning up on her toes to peer over the curtains, assumedly to see if anyone is coming. “And quiet.”

“Okay.”

You let her take your bag, set it on the chair that’s set to the side. You’re reluctant to let go of the bat, but when you finally let her take it, she puts it beside you on the cot. “You’ve been out there this whole time?” she asks, her voice just above a whisper. You nod. “Even the bombs?” Another nod. “Show me where you’re hurt.”

You hold your breath as you peel off the hoodie. You were right, your arm has bled through the bandage, and your shoulder aches with the movement. Deanna doesn’t say a word at first, her brow furrowed as she looks you over.

She tends to your arm first, wiping the blood from your skin, using some sort of glue to close the wound before she wraps it in fresh gauze. She circles you slowly, just like Cowan had, and you hear her sharp inhale when she sees your shoulder. “What have we here?” She wipes at more of the blood, and the sting makes you tense, your hand twitching towards the bat at your side. “What did that?”

“…boyfriend.”

You look over your shoulder to see her staring at you, a look that toes the line between sympathy and fear on her face. “Was he…”

You give a slight nod. “He was.”

“And is he…?”

“Not anymore.”

Her brows raise. “You did that?”

Another nod. “I did that.”

She blows out a breath, shaking her head side to side. “Damn, girl. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

It’s the first time you’ve actually laughed since your birthday.

They give you some clothes, stuff that actually fits, pilfered from one of the stores. Toiletries even, and you spend far too much time brushing your teeth. No showers, unfortunately, but the pack of baby wipes you’re offered instead makes up for it. It nearly makes you cry to see your skin clean of the dust and ash and blood.

They give you food, too. A grocery bag filled with non-perishables, more granola bars and cans of soup and whatnot. You try not to chug an entire bottle of water when they give you a second bag filled with drinks; not just water, but sports drinks, random cans of pop, clearly raided from the mall vending machines. And a hot meal, courtesy of one of the food court hot plates. It’s some kind of stew, noodles and meat and veggies, and for a moment, all you can think about is the Thai food that was waiting on your kitchen counter.

Feels like a lifetime ago.

Deanna walks you to the department store, gives your name to one of the soldier’s standing guard. He points you in the right direction, and she goes with you, a steady hand on your back, until you find the cot you’ve been assigned, tucked in the corner of the section where all the towels would have been, the displays still up on the walls. “We took them all already,” she tells you, giving you a half-grin as she picks up the blanket on your cot, unfolding the fabric. “Those extra-plush suckers make great bandages.”

You’re quiet, tucking your bag and your food and clothing under the cot. They’d refilled your first aid kit, too. Your knees are almost shaking as you lower yourself onto the edge of the bed, and the relief that washes over you is almost overwhelming. Tears spring in your eyes, but you don’t have the energy to wipe them away.

“Get some sleep, honey,” she tells you, and puts a soft hand on your shoulder as you slip sideways, collapsing onto the pillow. “You’ll be safe. Sleep as much as you need.”

She pulls the blankets over you, and it’s silly, but you clutch the bat to your chest. You’d wiped it down, too, cleaned the blood and dirt from the metal. Sleep takes hold as soon as you let your eyes close, and you pray no nightmares follow.

PREV | NEXT

[storiesofsvu]

A Dangerous Game Ch 5

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, smut, oh so much smut. minor brief talk of CM type cases.

The irony was not lost on you nor Emily when the next case took the team to Vegas.

*

“We… can’t keep doing this.” You panted between breathless kisses, whimpers and quiet moans swallowed up by Emily’s lips as she pinned you to the wall, her cock dragging across your sensitive walls, both of your naked bodies coated in a glistening layer of sweat.

“Dunno..” she panted back, wrapping one of your legs tighter around her waist and you gasped at the change in angle, “you seemed pretty enthusiastic about it earlier.”

“Fuck…” your head dropped onto her shoulder, “oh god… you’re right. Please don’t stop…”

“Yeah?” She murmured, a wicked grin on her lips, “you like that?” She swiveled her hips again and you groaned, biting down on her shoulder.

“So good.” You moaned back, your head dropping to the wall behind you, “oh fuck! Harder! Please daddy!” Emily’s free hand whipped up, clamping over your mouth, a dangerous glare in her eyes,

“Quiet princess.” She practically growled, “we can’t risk anyone hearing you. Those pretty little noises are just for daddy, understand?”

“Mmmhmm.” You nodded, your eyes begging for her to not stop and she grinned.

“That’s my good girl.” She continued thrusting into you, letting your whimpers and whines vibrate against her hand until she was sure you were going to do as told. Then it sunk south between your bodies, easily finding your clit and she started to rub it in time with the thrusts of her hips, her nose nudged at your chin, tilting your head up and she kissed down your neck until she found your pulse point, making a home there.

“Fuck…” you whispered, your pussy fluttering around the toy, your hands clawing at her skin, trying to get her even closer to you than she was already. You bit your lip as pleasure coursed through you, a stifled moan breaking into the room as you shuddered in her arms and she finally let up on your clit, kissing back up the column of your neck.

“That’s it angel… so good for daddy.” She purred, her hips slowing until she sunk deep into you one last time, her hips meeting yours and you were finally able to open your eyes again.

“Christ…” you muttered with a small laugh, your leg dropping from her waist and she chuckled, a sturdy arm wrapping around you as her cock slipped from you and she guided you to the bed.

Emily took a minute to take the strap off, washing and drying it before tucking it back into her bag. She grabbed two bottles of water from the mini bar, swiping a couple mini cups of ice cream from the freezer along with spoons and crossed back to the bed. She noticed you’d flicked the tv on, finding a mindless channel to not fully pay attention to, passing you a bottle and the snack.

“Thanks.” You murmured, cracking the bottle and taking a few sips as she slipped under the sheets with you.

“You watch this crap when you’re at home?” She asked and you laughed.

“At home I have access to every streaming service known to man, hotel tv hits different. Late night choices are pretty limited between cartoons made for adults, fox news, or police procedurals and like I need more of that after what we do for a living.”

“Oh and they’re so inaccurate.” She groaned and you hmphed over a sip of water.

“Don’t even get me started. I dated a lawyer who for some reason actually liked a couple of them and yet she’d spend the entire fucking time calling out every single reason why the case would get thrown out. It was exhausting and pointless, felt like she was trying to tell me how to do my job through episode analysis.” You pulled the lid off the ice cream, digging in with the spoon for a mouthful.

“That why you break up?” Emily asked, a hint of a tease in her voice.

“No.” You huffed a laugh as you turned to her, “big surprise… she was controlling and thought I should give up my job and move with her to California, where she would be accepting a big promotion and I was expected to take a demotion down to LAPD computer crimes unit because according to her, I suck at my job.”

You turned your attention to the ice cream in front of you, digging into it with the spoon and Emily frowned, wondering how much of this ex’s opinion still haunted you to this day, hoping that wasn’t why you had the habit of overworking yourself. She raised her hand, brushing back a piece of your mussed up hair, smoothing it behind your ear and you glanced up at her, a curious expression written across your face.

“You know that’s not true, right?” Her voice was soft, her fingers lingering on your skin and you felt your cheeks flush, “I mean, not everyone’s cut out for the FBI, much less the BAU and you’ve held your own for years, and you’re the perfect fit for this team.”

“You’re just saying that cause you watched me kick in a door earlier today and practically came on the spot.” You replied with a wicked grin and she let out an offended scoff followed by a bark of laughter.

“Oh, okay. While you may be correct…. you’re deflecting!”

“I know I am good at my job.” You chuckled, letting in to the impulse to lean in and steal a quick kiss, “which is exactly why I broke up with her. Besides, she committed a brady violation and lost her licence, so… karma…”

You let out a soft sigh, glancing down to the ice cream when you realized it was finished,  dropping it to the bedside table and your eyes glazed over the clock, noticing how late it was. You slipped from underneath the sheets, moving through the room to clip your bra back on, pulling your panties up your legs.

“Where exactly do you think you’re going?” Emily asked with a chuckle and you huffed, tugging your pants on, doing a little hop to get them all the way up.

“Back to my room.” You searched around for a moment before scooping up your shirt, pulling it over your head. “Everyone’s got their own this trip, can’t risk Rossi doing an extra early wake up call to find me naked in your bed.”

“Well that’s a shame.” She smirked, “was kinda hoping for some morning sex.”

“Well…” you tugged your extra key card out of your pocket, tossing it down onto her bed, “if you’re up early enough you know where my room is.”

Emily picked up the card, flipping it through her fingers before glancing up at you, “such a wonderful place, Vegas….”

**

A week and a half later and the team found itself in Great Falls Montana.

There were plenty of reasons to look forward to hearing the phrase ‘wheels up’, to everyone on the team. It meant that you had a case that only the BAU could solve, that your specialty would be what closed it, that there was a reason you did what you chose to do. It meant that for the meantime, paperwork wasn’t the biggest priority of your work day. But every time Emily’s eyes would flick over to you lightning fast, watching the way your lips would curve up into a grin before vanishing and slipping back into work mode.

Because Vegas no longer had to be a physical place for the two of you, it was an unspoken way of mind.

If you were out of the DMV area, it meant you weren’t at home, you didn’t have to follow the rules. Sure, it didn’t make total sense, but it worked and neither of you were going to bring it up either way.

Great Falls meant sharing rooms in a smaller hotel and it just so happened that Emily landed with you as her bunk buddy again this trip. Obviously there was no need for the second bed, it was just for appearances at this point, Emily’s cock gliding into you from behind with ease as you did your best not to moan loudly, your fingers clutching at the bed spread.

“That’s my good girl…” She cooed, hands pulling your hips sharper to hers with each thrust until you were begging for more, wanting nothing but to see stars until the sun rose in the horizon.

**

The next case brought you to Maddock, North Dakota.

It wasn’t ideal, winter was in full force, every crime scene and investigation was outdoors, moving through streets and snowbanks as you attempted to discover who the unsub was. Everyone was huddled down in thick winter coats, hats and gloves, hating the fact that they could see their breath in the air with every word they spoke.

At the very least, you each had individual hotel rooms this time, meaning it was easier for you and Emily to sneak around, you’d already become masters of stealth in slipping the other your hotel room key card. So she wasn’t surprised when there was a tiny knock on her door followed by a beep and you slipped into her room, letting out a little shiver. She glanced up at you from the bed, a brow raised in your direction,

“Vegas?”

“Well..” you huffed, kicking off your shoes, “yes but also no. It’s fucking freezing in my room. I was kinda hoping yours would be better.” She frowned at the way you winced when you moved through the room, your hand shooting to your side.

“Ribs?” She asked softly, remembering the conversation you’d had back in Atlanta.

“Yeah.” You nodded, “couldn’t sleep last night cause I kept curling up to stay warm and that made it worse.”

“Well, c’mere.” She flipped open the duvet and you were quick to slip under it as she reached out to the toiletry bag on the bedside table, “extra strength?” She held the bottle out to you and you let out a happy sigh.

“You’re a godsend.” You downed a couple of pills, sipping at the water glass she’d given you before you nestled into her side.

“And your feet are fucking frozen!” She practically shrieked, attempting to shove you away from her.

“I told you it was cold!”

“Good thing I know a very good way to warm you up.” She murmured and the next thing you knew her lips were catching yours in a kiss and she was pinning you to the bed.

True to her word, the temperature was skyrocketing in her hotel room within minutes and she managed to make you come as many times as possible without getting you naked, working around your clothing, or only pulling off what was needed. When she was finally satisfied she wrapped herself around you, kicking up an extra blanket and letting you settle into the warmth of the shared body heat.

**

Glendale, Arizona.

There were just enough rooms that Emily was able to get her own private one this time. She was thankful, not only for whatever might happen, but that she would finally get a little bit of a break. The last couple of weeks she felt like she’d been constantly berated by questions from either the team or upper management. This way she could finish her expected work and retreat to being on her own.

Though that did not mean she was upset when she heard the beep of her hotel room lock, her eyes glancing toward it with a smirk and you basically toppled into her room, tearing off your shirt as the door fell shut behind you.

“Someone’s eager…” She teased.

“JJ’s facetiming Will, told her I was going for a run, I’ve got forty minutes max.”

You were naked by the time you’d reached her bed, your fingers tugging at her clothing until she was bare against you. There wasn’t even time for Emily to dig into her bag for the strap, hands and mouths were plenty tonight. You moved with expertise against each other, fingers sinking into warmth, curling and pumping with ease while mouths left sticky trails of kisses on the other’s skin. Moans and whimpers were the only sound in the room as you brought each other to their peak.

As much as you wanted to stay, wanted to go another infinite number of rounds, wanted to sleep curled in her embrace you knew you couldn’t. So you slipped from the covers, pulling on your clothes as you wished her goodnight and slipped from the room, hurrying back to your own, hoping you’d covered all your bases.

**

Miami.

Why did it have to be Florida?

Emily found herself groaning just from seeing the city’s name on the case file, but the moment the jet touched down she realized there definitely were some benefits to being in the sunshine state. Your usual business casual had been swapped out for more of a casual look, instantly pulling you hair up, keeping it off your neck and all she could focus on was wanting to trail her lips across that exposed skin. Instead of button ups you’d packed tank tops, a few with necklines daring to cross the line into inappropriate. She was on her way back from picking up dinner with JJ in time to catch you and Morgan returning from a run and just about had a conniption at the sight of you in just spandex shorts and a sports bra. You were somehow barely out of breath, your skin coated in a glimmer of sweat, the swell of your chest swaying as you laughed at something Derek said.  You could feel her eyes on you, knowing that you were driving her wild and went the extra mile to stretch out a couple of muscles while the four of your chatted outside the hotel.

You’d been back in your room long enough to cool down and take a luxurious shower, throwing on a pair of loose shorts and a satin tank to sleep in and all you could think about was Emily. You knew everyone had their own rooms this trip but this case seemed to be eating at everyone a little heavier than normal and you figured that might cut into your playtime. Instead it was twenty minutes later that you heard the lock beep in the door and Emily slipped into your room.

“Vegas?” You asked cautiously and she nodded.

“After that fucking show you put on, what do you think?”

“I was thinking I was gonna have to start sending you naughty photos to get in the mood.” You teased with a laugh and Emily froze in her tracks.

“Maybe I should go back to my room.” She smirked.

“I don’t think so.” You grabbed at her hand, pulling her to you and your lips met, a sigh of relief coming from both of you as hands began to roam.

She broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head right as your fingers snuck under the hem of her shirt, tickling up her sides until you’d pulled it off, tossing it to the floor. Her mouth immediately latched onto your chest, sucking and nipping at the tender skin, tongue flicking across your nipple and you gasped, one hand tangling into her hair while the other fumbled with her belt. When your hand managed to get into her pants you moaned at the feel of her already strapped up, fingers slipping under it to toy with her pussy. Her mouth popped off your chest and her hand closed around your wrist as she raised a brow in your direction.

“Ya know I almost feel like I should be punishing you tonight…”

“It’s not my fault the weather’s torturously hot here.”

“Kinda sounds like back talk princess.” She chuckled darkly and your eyes widened, your pussy fluttering around nothing, “are you giving me attitude?”

“No daddy.” You murmured back.

“Good.” Her fingers pinched gently at your chin, “now lie back so I can taste that pretty pussy of yours.”

You weren’t going to waste anymore time, collapsing back onto the bed while Emily tugged off your shorts, burying herself between your legs. Her mouth made home on your pussy, licking and sucking for as long as she could, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you until you were absolutely trembling, cunt seizing around her fingers, juices drenching your thighs and the bedspread. Finally she slipped her cock into you, deeply and slowly beginning to fuck you as your hands scrambled on her skin, aching to feel her against you, needing to feel her lips on yours while her cock pounded into you. She made you come another three times around her cock before she finally pulled out, tossing the toy to the side and cuddling around you under the sheets.

*

The team ended up in Miami for another week and a half and Emily swore she only saw the inside of her own hotel room when she had to change clothes. She was starting to wonder if there was even a point in booking her own anymore considering the two of you spent any spare personal moment tangled in each other’s limbs.

You’d done everything you could to identify the unsub, worked through past clues, delivered the profile, even gone as far as finding an actual name, a work and home address. You’d exhausted everything, everywhere you looked for this guy he was constantly a step ahead of you, but still contained in the state. Eventually, Emily got a call from the Section Chief saying they were pulling the team out, they were wasting their budget right now when there were more important cases elsewhere, the local pd would just have to keep tracking the guy until they could finally pinpoint a secure location and you could be in touch.

So you packed up your things and headed to the jet to take you back home. You had originally sat down with Spencer to keep going over things, the two of you had been deepest into the case and weren’t quite ready to give it up yet. It was only at take off when Rossi insisted the two of you put a rest to it that you finally agreed, the humming of the plane lulling you into a near dreamlike state and you realized just how exhausted you were. The work days had been very late nights and very early mornings, and the time in between was spent with Emily, you didn’t exactly get a lot of sleep while in Miami. You shivered, reaching up to turn off the air jet above you and Derek tossed you his hoodie, wrapped in that warmth, you were out like a light seconds later.

From the back of the jet Emily could practically see the bags under your eyes and felt a twinge of guilt over keeping you up even later than needed the past few days. Though it felt like that was the general consensus through the entire team, everyone was exhausted and left feeling a little defeated over not actually being able to solve the case, getting pulled out didn’t happen often.

JJ placed a cup of coffee down in front of Emily, taking the seat beside her.

“Thanks.” Emily cast her a warm smile, taking a sip and letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Figured you could use it.”

“Think everyone could.” She replied quietly, most of the rest of the team was already asleep or at least trying.

“You think Wilson took this one a little too hard?” JJ asked softly, looking in your direction and Emily glanced up, looking over at you, curled up around yourself in the seat, resting against the wall of the plane.

“She’s still new, it’s her first time getting pulled out, you remember how that feels.” She raised a brow and JJ nodded with a small laugh, “think she overworks a bit to make sure we know she’s good at her job, that she’s committed and won’t give up easily.”

“She is really good at her job; you know that right?”

“Of course!” Emily protested with another laugh, “she was the best fit for the position both on paper and in the field, miles above anyone else who applied.”

“Does she know you think that? Because I think deep down she really just needs your approval.”

“What’d’ you mean?” She raised an eyebrow in the direction of the blonde who let out a soft sigh.

“Not to overshare, but she’s an only child, dad really wanted a boy, they never really got along because of it, fought a lot until he booted her out on her own right as she graduated. He’s a sheriff down in Clearwater and wanted the typical manly man to follow in his footsteps. So she decided to go big and work her way up to the FBI, either show him up or attempt to make him proud.”

“I didn’t realize…” She glanced back up at you again.

“It’s not exactly like it’s a fun topic to bring up at parties.” JJ laughed, “and you guys have this like, weird complete opposite of teacher’s pet thing going on. You basically avoid each other completely in the office despite working flawlessly and wordlessly together in the field. It’s not like you have to be her best friend, or even like her, just give her a ‘good work’, buy her a coffee once in a while and she’ll be fine.”

“I—” Emily began to protest, scrambling to find the right words, “was just letting her get her feet under her, it’s a big transfer to the BAU.”

“And we’re supposed to give them a warm welcome.” JJ chuckled, squeezing at Emily’s knee, “don’t cold shoulder her out within her first year.”

“Even if I wanted to, she’s tougher than that.” She did her best not to stare, though you were asleep, and it made sense to be looking your way while talking about you. “besides, she’s getting along perfectly with the team, I can just be her boss for a little while longer until she’s fully settled in.”

“Hmm.” JJ replied over the rim of her coffee as she took a sip, glancing between the other members of the team. She knew you were fitting in, she just also knew Emily could definitely be a bit intimidating to people that either didn’t know her or were new, especially as a superior, even if she was the softest underneath all that. A few minutes of silence passed before Emily spoke again, her voice quiet under the noise of the jet.

“Her dad really kick her out?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You know why?”

“Nope.” JJ replied with a sigh, “she didn’t mention anything past that. Considering Clearwater I’m guessing teen pregnancy or a coming out gone wrong.”

“She doesn’t have any kids…”

“She is great with them though.” She replied, clapping the other woman on the arm, “thank you for hiring the best babysitter I’ve ever had.” JJ chuckled, standing from her seat, gesturing to Emily’s coffee cup, “you want a refill?” Em glanced at her watch,

“Yeah, may as well, it’s a short flight, not much time left to try and sleep.”

As the blonde disappeared Emily’s mind got to wandering, she hadn’t realized your game of keep away had worked a little too well. And it wasn’t like you weren’t allowed to be friends, you didn’t have to shy away from those kind of situations at work. JJ was right, you were still both relatively casual with each other when you weren’t in the DC area, but you’d put this boundary in that things couldn’t happen at home. It appeared neither of you had realized that it had extended outside your bedroom shenanigans.

So as JJ took her seat beside her and the plane started its decent, she made a mental note to be more open and friendly going forward, if you kept going with this whole hot and cold thing someone would likely pick up on things sooner rather than later and you both wanted to avoid that. She also made the mental note to make sure you weren’t taking any case files from Miami home with you, to remind you this was in local pd’s hands now, they’d call when they needed the assist. You already did splendid work, and more than enough of it, she’d make sure that you knew how appreciative and satisfied she was with the way you were doing your job.

In a completely and totally professional way of course.

Until another Vegas opportunity presented itself. Then all amounts of professionalism were off the table.

_____________

@ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @softgamerking @httpjupiterbby @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry  @mysticfalls01 @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @alcabots @7thavenger @ladysc @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @disneyfan624 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @gamma-ray-bursts @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx  @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess  @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @bluetodie @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar

[siriuslysatorusimping]

*old draft* I Want Forever (Another Level extra)

I'm angry. And I'm just gonna fucking post this as a reminder for myself.

-

This is an extra for Another Level, which can be found on AO3.

NSFW below the cut.

“Get your ass back here.”

Rinko crossed her arms petulantly at his tone, sticking her tongue out as she glared at him.

He didn’t get to order her around like that.

“No.”

Gojo raised his eyebrows at her as she clenched her jaw.

“Baby-”

“Fuck you.”

He was exasperated now, a small smile on his face as she continued to glare at him.

“Rinko.” His voice held a warning now, and she scowled. “Come here.”

“Make me.”

She’d said it unintentionally, her irritation making her speak before she could think that she was serious about wanting to do something other than have sex the entire time they were there.

His growl was low as he pounced, yanking her back towards the bed and pinning her beneath him.

“Wait!” she snapped, fighting as he held her hands beside her head, raising his eyebrows. “I’m serious, I want to see something other than the fucking ceiling of this damn room-”

“We can move to the other room if you’d like,” he teased, pressing his lips to her neck. At her quiet whimper, he ground his hips down into hers. “Or you could be on top, you know I like it when you-”

“We’ve been here three days, and I haven’t even gotten to see-”

“Didn’t hear you complaining earlier,” he said smugly, already sliding back inside her. “So good, you’re so fucking perfect. And you’re mine.”

She rolled her eyes, unable to fight the amusement at how wrecked he looked as he intertwined their fingers, feeling the ring on his own hand.

“How are you still this horny?” she asked, her back arching when he scraped her gspot. “Shit, fuck-”

Her eyes rolled back when he rolled his hips harder to hit the spot insistently.

“Can’t help it, baby,” he said, moaning as he watched her face. “You look so perfect like this. Can’t get enough.”

“You’ve had plenty,” she insisted, whimpering again when he started moving. “And I don’t know how much more I can take.”

“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?” he teased, grinning when she shook her head. “Sounds like one.”

“Gojo-”

“Satoru,” he said, watching her roll her eyes. “Don’t forget baby, I know it’s new and all, but you’re a Gojo now, too.”

His movement faltered a bit when she clenched around him, and he laughed.

“Like that?” he asked, pressing his lips to hers as he sped up. “Gojo Rinko? I’ll admit it doesn’t flow quite as well as Kurisaki, but goddamn baby, does it sound really fucking good.”

She couldn’t say anything in response, her throat closing around a loud cry as she came, clenching down and drawing a long groan from his throat.

“Fuckin-” Gojo moaned, her tremors triggering his own release and he stilled, his body shuddering. “Fuck, I wanna spend forever like this.”

“Why did we even bother traveling if this is all-?”

“If you have enough energy to this bratty after an orgasm I’m fuckin doing my job wrong,” he muttered, shifting his hips slightly.

“I did say it’s always the cocky ones who can’t-”

His hands moved to her sides, fingers digging into her ribs as he trapped her beneath him, tickling her relentlessly.

“Wait!” she squealed, giggling against him as he pressed his lips to hers. “Wait-!”

He rolled his hips, his cock already hard again and she moaned against him, her giggles mixing with it and he groaned again.

“Fucking-” he moaned against her. “The fucking sounds you make baby. Dunno how you expect me not to keep you here like this forever. Fucking addicted to you, baby.”

“You’re such a greedy piece of shit,” she said, snorting as she laughed. “Really, what else could you possibly want?”

“Forever,” he stated simply, meeting her eyes with a grin. “I want forever with you.”

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Common Grounds / Chapter 8

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!Reader

Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: PIV sex, morning sex (kinda), food mention, soft!Marcus, and... What's this? A sprinkling of PLOT?

Summary: The morning after.

A/N: If you saw this go up earlier, NO YOU DIDN'T. My brain is mush and it was half-finished with an entire scene missing in the middle. Please read THIS VERSION if you managed to catch the earlier posting.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

When you wake up, you don’t understand why your neck aches so much. It takes you a few moments to realize that you feel asleep at such an awkward angle because your head is squished into Marcus’s shoulder, rather than resting on your own pillow.

Marcus.

You suck in a breath as awareness rushes back to you. Marcus Pike is in your bed.

The man in question stirs when he feels you move, a soft, low noise in his throat as he shifts onto his side and gently pulls you close. His lips brush your forehead, and you let out a content sigh.

“What time is it?” Marcus murmurs.

“Dunno,” you mumble. “Still dark.”

You shift against him, and you feel his cock, already hard, against your body.

“Sorry,” Marcus rumbles with a smile in his voice. “Hazard of waking up.”

“Mmmm,” you hum and shift again, more purposefully this time. “I like it.”

Marcus chuckles deep in his throat, and guides you to turn onto your other side so that he’s spooning you. He kisses your neck as he pulls you flush against him, one of his large hands splaying against your rib cage just underneath your breasts. 

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes?” Marcus repeats.

“Yes–again,” you entreat. “Please.”

“Good,” Marcus chuckles, “I was hoping for an opportunity to be less rough.”

He spits on his hand and gently runs his fingers up and down your folds, making you inhale shakily.

“I liked it,” you whisper.

“I did too,” Marcus says lowly. “But as it turns out–” he breaks off with a little exhale as he notches himself at your entrance, “–there are a thousand ways I want to give you this cock, and I’m not gonna be satisfied until I’ve done them all.”  

He pushes in slowly, letting you feel every inch of him sliding against your walls. 

“F-Feel free to elaborate,” you quip, unable to keep the waver out of your voice as Marcus seats himself deeply, so deeply within you. 

Marcus chuckles again, rocking his hips, moving in sync with you, a slow and sensual dance that has you panting immediately. 

“So many ways,” Marcus repeats, his voice low and dark. “Wanna give it to you hard and fast until you can't speak, and I want to go so slow that you beg me for more,” he whispers in your ear, causing sparks to shoot up and down your spine. “I want to put you on your knees and watch your ass bounce as you take me, wanna fuck you against the wall in the shower…"

"Marcus," you whimper.

"Shhh, I'm not done," he teases. "I want you to straddle me on the couch, watch your perfect tits bounce in my face as you ride me. Wanna–fuck," he gasps as your pussy clenches involuntarily around him. "Wanna hold you in my lap while you keep my cock warm, and I want to fill you up and watch it drip out–"

"I want that too," you gasp. "All of it, but–ah!–I want you to come in me," you tell him. "I'm on birth control, I–I want to feel you."

"Oh yeah," Marcus groans. "I will, but you first, okay honey? You gotta come for me first."

“I–more, I-I need–” you babble, and with a little growl that goes straight to your pussy, Marcus shifts his weight, pressing you down, down, down, until you’re lying on your stomach with Marcus on top. 

You keen into the pillow at the change in angles. Marcus is pushing down, hitting something that immediately makes everything tighten around his cock. He works his hand underneath you and presses his fingers against your clit.

“You need it harder?” he rasps in your ear.

“Yeah,” you manage to gasp out. “H-Hard–”

Marcus’s other hand grips underneath your shoulder for leverage as he gives you exactly what you asked for. You sob and hang on, your fingers digging into his forearm as you clamp down around him over and over. 

“Never gonna get tired of that,” Marcus laughs breathlessly while you twitch with aftershocks. “You feel so good around me.”

“Then show me,” you tease him. “Fill me up.”

“Fuck,” Marcus groans loudly. “Shit, that will end it fast.”

“Fuck me full,” you simper with a devious smile. “Deep. Make me yours.”

Marcus makes a strangled, garbled noise–it isn’t really a word, nor is it a moan–and shoves himself flush against you, as deep as he can get as he finishes. 

“Shit–naughty, perfect girl,” Marcus is chuckling as he peppers kisses across your shoulder blade. “You did that on purpose.”

You laugh joyfully, loving Marcus’s playfulness in the bedroom. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

He nips the skin at the nape of your neck in retribution. “I hadn’t intended it to be over so soon.”

He pulls out and rolls back onto his side, not allowing you to slip from his arms, and settles back on the bed with a sigh.

“I thought you said you were going to be less rough,” you tease, your eyes already beginning to slip closed again.

“Wasn’t I?” Marcus pouts playfully. “At least until the end, there.”

“Mmhmm,” you agree tiredly. Caged in his arms, you fall asleep quickly.

When you wake up again to the sun streaming into your bedroom window, Marcus is gone.

—------------------------------------------

In the millisecond that it takes you to begin to panic, you hear the soft clatter of a pan in your kitchen. Slowly, you let out a breath. Looking around the room, you realize his pants are still on the floor, anyway. 

You shake your head, laughing at yourself and dispelling the split-second of terror.

Silly. Marcus wouldn’t leave.

Getting up, you throw on a shirt and pad softly into the kitchen, not knowing what to expect when you get there. 

Whatever you had expected, the sight of Marcus at your stove in just his boxers and a plain white t-shirt that stretches deliciously over his shoulders exceeds your wildest dreams. Jack Johnson is playing softly over the speaker on his phone, and…

“Are you cooking?” you ask in disbelief.

Startled, Marcus whirls around, a brilliant smile spreading across his face when he sees you standing, confused, behind him. 

“Good morning,” he says brightly.

“Good… morning,” you answer. “What–what are you–”

“I hope you like pancakes,” he says, a little bashfulness creeping into his expression.

Your brow furrows. “I do, but I didn’t think I had any pancake mix.”

Marcus shrugs. “Just need flour, sugar, baking powder, milk, butter, and eggs. All of which you had.” Suddenly, he seems hesitant and unsure. “I hope you… don’t mind.”

“Mind?” you parrot dumbly. “Marcus, you’re making me pancakes.”

“I usually put vanilla in them too, but I didn’t want to, uh, presume too much,” he says with a little half-smile, “and use up any expensive ingredients.”

“Marcus,” you say again, starting to laugh at the whole situation. “You’re making me breakfast. From scratch.”

“Well, yeah,” he says, sounding slightly affronted. “I mean–why wouldn’t I?”

“I can’t believe you’re a real person,” you joke. 

Marcus’s smile starts to fade, replaced with trepidation. “Is it too much? Honestly. You can… you can tell me if it’s too much.”

You immediately shake your head, walking up to him until the two of you are touching and you’re looking up into his soulful brown eyes. “No,” you assure him softly. “No, it’s not too much. I’ve just never–no one’s ever done this, and–”

Your eyes flutter closed as Marcus cups your cheek with his warm palm. “The way I see it, you take care of me every morning–and everyone else, for that matter–and it’s high time I return the favor.” His lips gently brush your forehead, and an embarrassing whimper escapes your lips at the tenderness. 

“Coffee?” he asks softly, his lips still brushing your skin.

“Yeah,” you agree breathlessly. “Coffee sounds perfect.”

Accepting the steaming cup gratefully, you smile as the song switches over to ‘Better Together.’

“Jack Johnson, huh?”

“I get that ‘Banana Pancakes’ song in my head whenever I make them,” Marcus admits with a laugh. 

“I don’t have any bananas.”

“I know, I checked,” he says with a grin. “Next time, maybe.”

Next time. 

While you’re still processing the idea that Marcus wants to do this again, the man in question turns back to the stove and flips the pancake over in the pan before transferring it onto a plate and handing it to you.

“Wow,” you intone softly. “This is–thanks.” 

“It’s not a problem,” Marcus says with a soft chuckle, grabbing his own plate and cup of coffee and sitting down at your little kitchen island. 

You moan exaggeratedly at the first bite of pancake. “Marcus, holy shit. I don’t think I can ever buy boxed mix again.”

“Next time I’ll wake you up and we can make some together,” he says with a smile. “I can’t believe I get to teach you a recipe.”

“I’d like that,” you tell him quietly?”

“Yeah? We could do it next week, or uh… tomorrow, or–” Marcus trails off, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Whenever,” you murmur, smiling so wide it hurts. “Open invitation.”

“Good to know.” “I mean, you are my boyfriend, after all.”

“That’s true,” Marcus says with mock-seriousness. “I think we should celebrate by spending the day together.”

“Is that right?” you tease.

“Oh, absolutely,” Marcus answers with a glint in his eye. “But first–I have to admit, I’ve been staring at your little studio all morning.”

“My… my studio? Marcus, that’s a pile of paintings in the corner. It can hardly be classified as a studio.”

“I’ve been so tempted to look, but wanted to have your permission first. May I?”

Stunned into silence, you shrug, shake your head, and gesture weakly toward the “studio”–a paint-stained easel in the corner, surrounded by canvases.

“Yessss.” With a goofy pump of his fist, Marcus jumps up immediately and rushes over to it as if he’s a giddy art student.

You can’t help but laugh at his excitement, and the slight discomfort of having someone else in your space, scrutinizing your hobbies, your work, your life, melts away. It’s Marcus. It surprises you how comfortable you feel being vulnerable around him.

“Jesus, that’s a lot of art,” he remarks.

“Yeah, well, painting is my stress relief, so I paint more than I could ever sell.” 

Nodding, Marcus starts thumbing through the canvases, smiling at each new painting he uncovers.

Self-conscious of the haphazard piles of art, paint, and brushes, you grimace. “Sorry about the mess.”

Marcus shrugs. “Don’t be. I love to see the process.”

“My process is chaos.”

“A sign of genius.”

“Hardly,” you scoff. 

Marcus cocks his head to the side, a little crease on the bridge of his nose as he continues to look at your workspace, and doesn’t reply.

“...What?” 

Marcus blinks rapidly. “N-Nothing. I just, uh, thought of something. A–A work thing.”

“A work thing,” you repeat skeptically.

“A solution to a problem I’ve been having,” turning to look at you, he asks, “Have you ever done any exhibitions?”

“N-No, why–” 

“Would you like to?”

[jaybleu25]

Take Me Home (Part 2) - "Have Hope"

Part 1: Here

Finally decided to make the end of this story! I felt it deserved a proper ending after being left on a cliffhanger for so long. So, here it is!

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

Time: HS Years; Bros are in 10th grade, Bowser's in 11th.

Setting: Peach's Castle.

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

...

Arriving back at the castle, Luigi still hadn't let go of Mario's hand. Usually in situations like these, after Bowser does something like this, Luigi has a hard time being on his own. Thankfully, Mario was there the whole time to support him.

After a few minutes, as the brothers walked deeper into the castle, they ended up running into Toadsworth, who was just finishing a conversation with another Toad who was working in the castle.

"Oh, hello you two," said Toadsworth.

Just like Mario had predicted, Toadsworth was quick to notice that something was up. He noticed the brothers holding hands, but the main thing he took notice of was how uncomfortable Luigi looked.

"Is everything alright?" Toadsworth asked.

Luigi would look at Mario. He didn't feel comfortable explaining the situation, especially not a second time. Seeing the look on Luigi's face however, Mario decided to explain for him. Thankfully for Luigi, Mario left out the detail of who exactly caused the damage to his arm; Luigi didn't really want to cause conflict between Toadsworth and a prince of all people.

However, after hearing what happened from Mario, Toadsworth was immediately concerned. He then told the brothers to go to their bedroom, and he quickly walked away to look for a first-aid kit inside the castle.

Upon entering the bedroom, Luigi walked over to the couch he and Mario both slept on, and he fell on top of it face first. He ended up hitting his arm against the couch in the process, causing him to wince in pain once again. He then groaned into the couch.

After Mario put all of his and Luigi's belongings on the floor, he sat next to Luigi on the couch.

"You alright..?" Mario asked after seeing Luigi flop onto the couch.

Luigi turned onto his left side, facing away from Mario and looking towards the back of the couch. He curled up into a ball, holding onto his right arm.

"A-After everything that's happened this week...I've...kinda lost hope that it's gonna be good," Luigi muttered.

"Weegee..." Mario said sadly.

Mario would put his hand on Luigi's shoulder to comfort him.

"You need to have more hope," said Mario. "Maybe tomorrow will be better."

"It's hard to have hope when it's just been bad day after bad day..." Luigi responded.

This week was indeed rough for Luigi. Bad things kept happening to him repeatedly. He kept running into Bowser while at school, which would always end up with him either getting verbally attacked or physically attacked. Not only that, but his other peers weren't exactly the nicest to him either. Mario did his best to help in those situations, but with them not having certain classes together, it was harder for Mario to help.

"I know..." said Mario, looking down at the ground. "But you shouldn't give up. Keep pushing through."

Luigi would turn once more while laying down, now on his back. He'd look at Mario with a clearly upset look on his face.

"It's hard," Luigi trembled.

"I know, bro..." Mario responded, giving his brother a hug. "But it will get better. That's what you told me."

Luigi remembered telling that to Mario during the summer. Luigi was still healing from Bowser's attack at the time, and he could tell Mario wasn't taking what happened that well. Mario blamed himself a lot back then, for not being there to stop it earlier and for not knowing what was going on. However, Luigi told him that things will get better soon, and they did.

"I dunno if I should follow my own advice..." Luigi muttered.

"You should," said Mario. "It's good advice."

"Are you sure..?" Luigi asked.

"Mhm!" Mario hummed. "It's helped me a lot."

Hearing that, Luigi smiled a little. Mario helped to cheer him up.

However, the positive mood soon changed when Toadsworth walked into the room, holding a first-aid kit in his right hand. A sense of nervousness came over Luigi as he sat up on the couch. Wanting to help calm Luigi down, Mario wrapped his arm around his brother like a sort of side-hug. It did help a little, and Luigi felt a bit more relaxed.

After wrapping a few bandages around Luigi's right arm (this was because there were a few small scratches caused by Bowser directly grabbing Luigi's arm), Toadsworth was finished. Unfortunately, the scratches were near the bruise, which meant the bandages had to be put close to it. This put pressure on Luigi's bruised arm, which hurt quite a lot, but he knew it would be best to keep the bandages on.

Despite that, the moment Toadsworth left the room, Luigi immediately buried his face in Mario's shoulder and groaned in pain.

"I'm sorry, bro..." said Mario. "You won't need it after a day or two though. You just need to wait it out."

"Fa male..." Luigi winced.

"How about you try taking a nap?" Mario suggested. "Maybe that'll help."

Almost immediately, after Mario suggested the idea, Luigi fell asleep against Mario's shoulder. He was quite tired, after all. Normally, Mario and Luigi would take a warp pipe to get back to the castle so it would be quicker, but with the state Luigi was in earlier, Mario didn't want to take any risks.

Gently, Mario then helped to get Luigi properly laid down on the couch, covering him in a big blue and white blanket that both he and Mario usually shared. After making sure Luigi was comfortable, Mario then got prepared for bed himself, joining his brother in slumber to keep him company.

-END-

[flightofaqrow]

🍁 Was it rough, going sober?

press(ed leaf) conference ** accepting

"eugh, clincally," qrow's over the worst, doesn't mind talking about it, though clearly it doesn't bring up good memories, "every step 'a th' way."

"it was like every single bad decision i made over the last 25 years turned in'ta'a pack'a ravagers that ripped right back outta my body, except all within a week.

"...it started on th' flight in t'Atlas. headache, dry mouth, stomach churnin' an' not cause'a air sickness," that panic attack on the cliff earlier hadn't helped either, "not takin' that celebratory swig an' everythin' that came after... was th' hardest thing i've done in a long time. but cheers to, what? i'd been more hinder than huntsman ever since that train left Mistral. i didn't deserve it. an' after th' next skipped urge and th' next... i didn't feel like they deserved me that way either. i had to be sharper to have any chance at facin' what was comin'... i had to be... a better me. i left a lot'a things behind that day. that's hard, too.

"anyway, i hid it pretty well until everyone tucked safe and sound into th' academy. wasn't too hard t'blend in when we were all tired. all overwhelmed. just excited enough t'keep it together. ...i never made it t'th' dorms. dunno what happened... only that i woke up in th' infirmary instead. hours? days? i had no idea at the time. it was like Callows' poison all over again but worse. probably should'a stayed longer, but i busted out of that bed as soon as i stopped seein' things that weren't there. me an' medical machines don't mix.

"still don't know who i owe for covering for me, but no one seemed surprised i'd gone missing for a spell. it didn't stop there, but between sheer willpower an' aura, i could handle myself. funny thing is, feelin' better was rough, too. it all hit harder: th' pain, th' fatigue, th' chills ...but also th' colors, th' voices, th' feelings, th' drives. like dawn blindin' your eyes 'cause y'pulled th' curtains open too fast. ...enough t'make a man's head spin, even sober. i'm still gettin' used to it."

...it's still rough to admit how much he was missing out on, on top of it all.

"i'm sure it was rough on everyone around me, too, but... that's nothin' new."

[grizzledyoungimpact]

Kay's Whumptober Day #18

Prompt #18: Tortured for Information/Hit Them Harder Pairing: Tony D'Angelo/Carmen Donovan (OC) Mentions Of: Channing "Stacks" Lorenzo, "Two Dimes" Troy Donovan, Legado Del Fantasma TW: Kidnapping, Blood, Torture Verse: Mafia

Carmen Donovan could fondly remember the first time she had ever met her Tony. Her older brother Troy had brough his new best friend to their house and the Catholic school girl had been home to meet said boy. It was not love at first sight, God no. After all, he was a friend to her annoying older brother and in her eyes, that made Tony just as annoying.

But time had a way of changing all things.

The duo of Troy and Tony had evolved into the trio of Troy, Tony, and Channing. The boys had gone from mere annoyances to certified criminals, but then again it had always been in their blood. Tony was the son of the don of the D'Angelo crime family. He was destined to become mob royalty from the moment he was born. He had simply dragged Troy and Channing, ever the loyal friends, into the family business.

Not that Carmen had any knowledge of that.

A crime family was like a fraternity, the biggest news staying inside the male dominated society. That did not mean, however, that Carmen did not play a vital role for Tony. After all, it was her restaurant that the boys met in the back room of most nights to enjoy their drinks and play cards. At the end of the night, one of the three boys would help her clean and lock up before walking her home for the night. Since becoming Don of the family, Tony hadn't been able to stay so most nights anymore it was Troy or Channing.

Tonight it had been Troy and tonight had gone so 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜.

On the way home, a black van had followed before a trio of men had come from it and grabbed both Troy and Carmen, placing a rag over their mouths. Carmen had passed out and, when she woke up, it was in the blackness of an abandoned building. She struggled, her arms bound behind her back and a gag in her mouth. Her caramel brown eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, but she could heart what sounded like a pair of heels against concrete. Carme struggled to try and free herself, just as the visage of a beautiful woman, followed by the three men Carmen had seen earlier, presented themselves from the shadows.

The woman, extremely well dressed and extremely beautiful, crossed over to Carmen. She ran a hand along Carmen's jaw before pulling the rag from her lips. "Please...please..." Carmen begged, tears in her eyes, "I dunno what you want or-"

"Shh, shh," the woman soothed, cupping Carmen's cheek in her hand, "my employer simply has a few questions for you, dulce niña."

"I don't know anything. I promise I don't know anything about anything," Carmen begged tearfully. She glanced around for some sign of Troy. Where was her brother?

"We know you work with D'Angelo, dulce niña," the tallest of the men spoke. He was impeccably dressed in a black suit jacket over a black button up and purple tie. He snapped his fingers and the two men at his side went to grab something from the shadows they had come from. "And we are willing to do what it takes to find out what we wish to know."

The other men dragged Troy from the shadows, and Carmen let out a scream. He was bleeding from the nose, his right eye already forming a deep bruise and almost swollen shut. Carmen tried to look away, only for the woman who had a grip on her face to make her look back at the scene. "Let him go. Please. Let him go."

"Oh, we will. 𝙄𝙛you tell us what we want to know," the man, obviously their leader, spoke again, "If not...well..."

"I can't tell you what I don't know!"

"When do the boys meet?" the woman asked, digging her nails into Carmen's jaw, "When does Don D'Angelo come to your place?"

When Carmen refused to answer, Troy was restrained from behind. The one of the men who did not have Troy restrained drew his fist back and punched Troy right in the stomach. Carmen was helpless to speak. She wouldn't speak. "Hit him harder, Mendoza. Keep a good grip, Cruz."

Again a heavy punch was landed to Troy's stomach. He spat a mouthful of blood, and a tooth, at his attacker. Tears ran down Carmen's cheeks and she tried not to scream for her brother. She couldn't give in. She wouldn't betray her Tony. The leader seemed furious and he turned towards Carmen, producing what looked like a lead pipe from his inner jacket pocket. The woman let go of Carmen's face and the gentleman placed the pipe under Carmen's chin. "One last time, querida. One last time or I swear I'll-"

"Don't touch her," Troy croaked from where he was held up by Cruz, "Escobar, I'm tellin' ya if ya hurt her..."

Escobar smirked, sharing a look with the woman next to Carmen before turning to where Troy stood, "What are you willing to do, señor?"

"I..." Troy let his eyes glance down and he spat blood at the ground, "I'll tell ya whatever ya wanna know."

"No!" Carmen shouted, trying not to sound as scared as she felt, "No, Troy, you can't...please...you know what..."

Carmen knew very little about what went on in the family behind closed doors, but she did know about the code of omerta. Omerta was a code of silence, refusing to tell anyone about the families activities. If that code was broken, then there was only one way that the code breaker would be dealt with. "I gotta, Carm..."

Escobar slid the pipe back into his jacket with a smirk, "Cruz, Mendoza. Take our guest back down to the van. Mr. Donovan and I are going to have a conversation."

Cruz tossed Troy down before both he and Mendoza untied Carmen, pulling her to her feet. She forced herself not to look at her brother, though she could feel her own heart breaking in her chest. If he survived the night, Carmen would keep her own code of omerta. She would not betray her brother in such a way.

Not even for Tony.

[bojackhorsemanobviously]

A Boy and His Horse

@ccartman

Bojack had found himself in plenty of shitty situations before but this one really took the shit cake of all shit cakes, for once he had done nothing wrong . at least he thought so..

He grunted as the van hit a bump on the road feeling very claustrophobic in the small cramp trunk that was not meant for anyone past 4ft.. yet somehow they managed to shove him inside. despite his protests that it would never work , but there he was stuck in a very tight place feeling really claustrophobic.

you drunk idiot how could you let this happen? yeah I let this happen this is definitely my fault not my kidnappers. you're the one that borrowed money from em for a night of ecasty what it worth it? I dunno......

probably .

Maybe he had taken money from these shady characters but that was a long time ago how was he supposed to remember everyone he made deals with ? everyone he pissed off? There was a list a very long list dating to probably 100s of faces his drunken brain barely remember so when strange men appeared on his doorstep's guns ablazing his drunk brain barely remembered anything especially when they kept shouting for the money.. Calling them a bunch of ugly shitheads who should go crawling back to their mothers basement and threatening to call the police had not been his smartest means of defense, the hateful eyes coming from behind the slits of the masks made his blood run cold and he realized he hadmade a terrible mistake.

. you idiot.. why couldn't your keep your fat mouth shut? I was drunk You're always drunk. its fine, its fine i'm sure they just want a ransom for a high profile celebrity I'll be back filming philbert by monday. you know if you died right now no one would miss you.. . how is it possible for you to be bigger asshole than my kidnappers? I AM YOU ASSHOLE.

Bojacks heart sunk at that thought wondering if it was true, would his friends miss him? He was sure they would, especially diane even if things had been rocky lately. he still wasn't sure why she had been so distant lately, but he still had hollyhock, pc, gina even that mr. peanutbutter. who while annoying had shown to be dependable

and. they couldn't film the show without their star. Sure they can they'll just use CGI like with that movie that didn't win you an oscar.

Bojack groaned turning out the voice in his head ears pounding from the all the booze he had earlier well , the constant bonks on the head from being stuck in a very tiny trunk had him wishing for his pain killers.. that were in his pockets just out of reach.. disoriented he heard murmurs from the front didn't fill him with much hope of getting out alive either.. something about being sold to a burger king in the UK what??? that didn't sound good.

you'd make a shitty burger. I am not talking to you. you're talking to me right now dumbass. you know what I hope they kill me so i never hear your shitty voice He flinched hearing a loud gunshot ring out, oh dear god no! No! didn't mean it no fuck.. fuck.. shit NO! .! His heart started pounding loudly in his chest as he figured that his time was coming to a crawl, he tried to squirm free of the ropes but the knots were too tight and he was finding it harder to breathe figuring this was the end But he was a large animal so he started kicking the trunk hoping to break it open when it just popped open.. leaving the older disgruntled horse staring wide eyed at...

... a child.... he wasn't sure what to make of that at all, panting heavily through the gag he just stared wide-eyed at him, hoping he let him go.. the bloodstains on his shirts made him feel.. a bit less hopeful.. but it was just a kid..

@ccartman

[apricusnights]

Chapter Eight: Extending an OLIV Branch.

Location: Cathedral of The Sun, Delta Town.

Violet: "Dad!" She just happened to glance over and see her father walking out of his meeting with the High Priestess.

Shin: "Sundrop? What's wrong?"

Violet: "Dad listen..I heard part of your conversation, and it made me realize something. I talked to Sister May earlier. She said she was going with Castor and a few others on some important mission, but she couldn't tell me anything else."

Shin: "Lucianna.."

Violet: "I think the High Priestess sent a Templar group to go after Lazuli. I messaged a few people for help, I hope they can get there before Sister May."

Shin: "Sundrop, listen. I want you to get out of here. I know you want to help and as much as I don't want to see you in danger..I know I can't stop you either."

"Take my express pass, head over to the station and go straight out to Smokey Gardens. You should get there before May and her group. DO NOT fight the Templars. Do whatever you can to help but do not fight them. Try and get Lazuli out of there, I have some favors I can call in to help."

Violet: "Dad..what are you going to do?" Taking the pass from her father.

Shin: "Don't worry about me Sundrop. I'll be fine. One last thing, don't trust Julius. I don't care what he has or hasn't done...do not listen to him." Hugging Violet before turning and walking over to the storage lockers so he can retrieve his weapon.

Violet: "Be careful Dad...love you." She turned and quickly made her way out of the cathedral. A quick stop to pick up the weapons she'd been practicing with before getting on the express train.

The door to Lucianna's office was pushed open again..

Lucianna: "I was under the impression that I dismissed you..Brother Shin."

Shin: "What have you done..."

Lucianna: "Only what I told you I would do."

Shin: "You leave me no choice but to call for your removal. Don't make this any harder than it has to be Lucianna.."

Lucianna: Smirking as she taps her staff on the ground. "So, it's treason is it.."

Location: Smokey Gardens.

Onyx: "I did not imagine my day turning out like this. I'm beginning to question my own decisions..."

Ivory: "At least you're making YOUR decisions and not just doing whatever you're told."

Onyx: "You're one to talk.."

Lapis: "Enough, we don't have time for this. We all went over the plan. We've worked together before even if it was brief. We worked well, we'll need to work even better now.."

Onyx: "I've already got a different plan in mind for when this inevitably falls through."

Ivory: "You alright?"

Lazuli: Currently wearing a hooded cloak that shrouds her face. She was walking in the middle of the group without saying a word. Only responding with a slightly nervous nod of her head.

Lapis and Ivory both turn quickly upon hearing someone approaching. Onyx shifts his position to put himself between the approaching figure and Lazuli.

Violet: Attempting to catch her breath as she runs over. "It's just me! Violet, remember!" Despite the dire circumstances, she managed to smile. "Would you look at us, OLIV reunited!"

Onyx: "We're not calling ourselves that again. It was ridiculous the first time."

Ivory: "I dunno, I thought it was kinda catchy."

Violet: "The Templars are on the way. I hope whatever plan you've got works." Looking over at the cloaked figure. "Lazuli?" The figure nodded in response.

Violet: "Ok listen...I don't know everything but here's what you need to know about the Templars we may have to deal with." Sending details to everyone's aShines.

Ivory: "She's a sniper?"

Violet: "A good one. Her ability will let her find anyone. It doesn't mean she can hit you though so make sure to utilize cover. She'll try and work together with Castor. Once she has your position, she can keep you pinned down and send him to flank you."

Lapis: "Great, a sniper when we're about to be walking through a huge forest."

Onyx: "We can use this to our advantage. I have an idea.." Motioning for everyone to come closer so he could explain his new plan.

Violet: "Alight! Let's go OLIV!"

Onyx: "Never do that again.."

Violet headed over to Lazuli, taking her hand and leading her down one of the trails through the forest.

It was only a few moments before Violet motioned for Lazuli to stop.

Violet: "She's here somewhere...and she sees us. Don't move until I say so." Fishing something out of her pocket.

Meanwhile Sister May had gotten into position and radioed for the others. She hesitated though, not expecting to see Violet in her crosshairs.

Still, she had a mission. All she had to do was make them surrender and return with the girl. No blood needed to be spilled.

Just as May loaded a tranquilizer round into her rifle and once again took aim, Violet dove on Lazuli, tackling her into the bushes. What May failed to see was Violet dropping a flashbang that went off, blinding May for a moment.

Ivory managed to take advantage of this by firing a round and breaking the tree limb May was on, forcing her to retreat momentarily.

Brother Castor was headed toward the commotion before being informed by May where Violet and Lazuli were. Making his way through the thick foliage only to encounter Lapis who did not hesitate to strike him, sending the Templar stumbling back a bit.

As Castor attempted to regain his balance he failed to notice the wires suddenly wrapping around his legs. The wires pulled together, bringing Castor down to the ground and giving Violet and Lazuli a chance to create some distance.

Team OLIV all seemed to fall back, disappearing into the forest before May and the other Templars descended on Castor's location. Castor sliced through the wires and stood up. This humiliation would not stand.

Castor: "Sister Violet has betrayed us.."

May however still seemed a bit uncertain and refused to comment on that matter.

May: "They are heading further into the forest. This will complicate matters."

Castor: "I am requesting some assistance as we speak. Brother Julius will send us backup. Ridiculous that it's even required...but I will give them credit for acting like an actual team."

May: "They lack our discipline, and experience. They were lucky. I assume Sister Violet told them what she knows of us, they had a brief advantage that they no longer have."

Castor: "You may as well stop referring to her as Sister. She's a traitor who's chosen her side..."

May: "I will speak with her before you do anything rash. I AM senior Templar. I have authority here and I suggest you remember that."

Castor: "Of course Sister May.."

The Templar group began to pursue OLIV further into the forest as the backup sent by Julius began to draw closer.

Location: Delta Town.

Jerome: "With all due respect Brother Solomon..should we really be in Brother Julius's office while he's away?"

Solomon: "Technically his office is back in the Cathedral, this is the First Templar's office."

Jerome: "Isn't Julius TECHNICALLY First Templar."

Solomon: "He leads the order but isn't First. Only a Templar can have that position, not a priest."

Jerome: "What are you looking for in here..."

Solomon: He managed to find and press a small switch hidden on a shelf that opened up a passageway which eventually turned into a rather perilous looking staircase heading down. "Not looking for...found."

[toomanyfandoms-help]

some of the thoughts, feelings, and emotions ive been experiencing lately. merely needed a place to write this down and get it off my chest, so please feel free to scroll on

not fully sure exactly how to describe. depressive spiral? self-fulfilling prophecy? simply an unhinged, unhealthy person chattering away and scaring those close to them? something along those lines.

cant pinpoint where exactly it started either. i can give guesses, but its definitely something thats been building, rather than something that snapped.

im thinking somewhere in june. too good to be true, too much going right that i got suspicious. or maybe i was picking up on stuff i shouldve picked up on, did pick on earlier, and ignored.

it certainly started to crumble, starting with the trip. havent spoken to one of them since. its been 2 months. never really liked him though, and im quite assured in assuming the feeling's mutual.

then everyone got busy. and work got worse. and more busy. and even worse. hyperbolic, maybe a little. even still.

i dont push. i hate pushing. whenever i do even a little bit i hate myself for it. i take up other's offers gladly, but it gets further between. it feels less like friendship and more like im merely the person these people vent to every few weeks.

the one time (several times, i just stopped asking) i did ask, it got cancelled severely last minute with a half-assed apology. well, no. it was understandable. but still incredibly frustrating.

been spending more time with my family as a result. its familiar, in a tangy, bittersweet way that nostalgia is. we're closer than most, i know that, given the unique circumstances my and my sister grew up in. she knows me well.

everything took a turn when i quit though. on a whim (stressing all week and all day the day-of) setting my key down and leaving with head held high (shaking like a leaf and turning my music up too high on the drive home). combined with the stress of the previous day (shit going wrong with the house and my sister telling me she was probably minutes away from killing herself several years ago (something i already knew but somehow it hit harder (i can guess why))) it all just hurt

i also was with a friend. the day before i quit. kinda.

he helped me, sure. as in he helped with the house issue. but he didnt really talk to me. he tried to show me tiktoks on his phone (i spotted a groupchat with my friends without me in it (the old one with me hasnt been touched since june)) but they were all so. mindless.

we havent hung out since. he tried, twice. the first time i asked how many people he asked before me (its been a reoccurring problem, actually, where i am the last thought of) and he said i was the first. i didnt believe him. he tried again the next day, but i was actually looking forward to hanging out with my family so i declined.

he hasnt reached out since.

i sometimes think about how it makes me upset i cant be angry. im not really allowed to be. which is a weird thing to think about. what do i mean i cant be angry. but i think i mean it in a way like. my anger burns so deep and hot and fast, and its never good. its never for a good reason. being angry feels good, sometimes, but i cant revel in the feeling because i should not have been angry. i did things i regret.

i dunno. anger is a good emotion to have. i know that. it feels good, to feel your blood boiling just a bit and steam clouding your vision. its the one way i can really lose myself.

but its aimless. im usually angry at things i cant counteract or control or do literally anything against. it builds up. i cant release it. and when i do get angry at something i can do something about, well. it usually gets much more than deserved.

but how do you apologize for that. im not sorry for my anger, i was rightful to be angry. but my actions were maybe over the top. maybe i let out too much. maybe im not communicating at all. i dont know

how does one just. stop. not in a suicide way, but also not not in a suicide way.

i cant just go. not right now. my birthdays in 2 fucking days and i cant do that to my family. so maybe after. but we've got a vacation in 2 weeks and i dont want that to be canceled because its supposed to be the last family vacation we have.

but i cant last that long. im in limbo right now, and every single second is tearing at me and i just cant fucking feel anything anymore.

theres things i want to experience and be around for but the price of being a human being is just so fucking high that i cant fucking do it anymore. why do i exist on this miserable mortal coil and drag people down with me. why am i here

can it just stop, please

[forever-rogue]

Hey! I really like you’re writing! Your Steve Harrington is such perfection 🥺. Those stories give me the feels.

Since you’ve done a couple pregnant!reader stories, could you do a Steve Harrington x reader where she’s having morning sickness? Perhaps the reader has been feeling a bit dizzy but starts feeling nauseous one dinner and then gets sick for the first time late that night/early morning? And Steve is perfect, all worried but super soothing and doing his best to keep her comfy and cool.

Regardless of if you do this request or not, thank you so much for your writing!

AN | Steve would absolutely be the best, and you can’t prove me wrong🥺🥰

Warnings | Pregnant!Reader (mentions of morning sickness)

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were half listening to Steve as you shoved another bite of pasta into your mouth. He was talking excitedly about something, but it was getting harder and harder to focus with each passing moment as your stomach churned. All you could concentrate on was not running to the bathroom and throwing up…again. It had happened a few times in the past week and you were sure that you had eaten something that didn’t agree with you and was lingering. That or you were suddenly allergic to something you ate commonly. Doubtful…but one never knows. 

“Babe?” Steve gently nudged your foot from under the table and you turned your eyes to him. His eyebrow was raised and he had a concerned expression on his face, “are you alright?”

“‘course,” you insisted unconvincingly, “just feeling a little…off. Probably just something I ate earlier."

"Babe-"

"I'm okay, Stevie," you reached across the table and put your hand on top of his, giving it what you hoped was a reassuring squeeze, "I didn't mean to ignore you. Go on, you have my full attention."

His expression didn't change from skeptical, but he knew better than to just argue with you. He was only worried; he wasn’t entirely sure he could handle anything happening to you, especially if it was easily preventable. 

“I…” he opened his mouth and saw the fierce look in your eyes and he knew to drop it. He swallowed the lump in his throat and before nodding softly, “I was just, umm…talking about something Eddie had told me earlier.”

“Eddie?” you snorted in amusement, “do tell me dear husband, what did Eddie do now?”

“Bold of you to assume he did something-”

“This is Eddie we’re talking about,” you reminded him with a little flourish of your fork. Steve relaxed slightly at your lighthearted mood, “he had to have done something…at least something funny.”

“So Eddie and his wife…” Steve carried on animatedly as he recounted what his friend had told him earlier. You loved seeing Steve so happy and carefree and so…himself. It almost made you forget about the nauseous feeling that was still bubbling in your stomach. Almost. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was the early hours of the morning when that feeling hit you again. The sun was just starting to peek in through the curtains, accompanied by the soft chirping of birds. You opened one eye and looked across the bed and found that Steve was already up and getting ready for work. You groaned lightly; you were hoping to sneak in a few more cuddles in the vain hope that they might make you feel better. 

But before you could ruminate too much on that, the overwhelming feeling of nausea hit you and you booked it out of bed, running down the hall and into the bathroom. Steve was already in there, taking a shower as you lifted the toilet lid and proceeded to throw up whatever little contents you had in your stomach. 

“Babe?” he’d ripped back the curtain as soon as he heard you barged in, shampoo still in his hair and looking worried sick. He looked almost as exhausted as you felt. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you plopped onto the floor and flushed the toilet, “what happened?”

“I dunno,” you admitted, trying to swallow away the taste in your mouth, “I just haven’t been feeling well is all. I think I’m just going through a rough patch.”

“So…this isn’t the first time this has happened?” he asked as you shook your head. You hadn’t wanted to say anything to him because you knew he would stress and worry his pretty little head over nothing. Before you could try and defend your actions, you could see the corners of his mouth twitching up as he tried to - unsuccessfully - to contain a smile.

“What? Don’t look at me like that! Don’t laugh at me,” you pouted.

“I’m just going to throw this out there so don’t panic on me, yeah?” he quickly rinsed his hair before turning off the shower and grabbing a clean towel. You were still on the floor, trying to feel out if you needed to throw up again or not but gave him a meek nod nonetheless, “I think…babe, I think you might be…pregnant.”

“What?” you almost couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips but when you saw that his face was serious, you sobered up. Oh. Oh. Maybe…maybe he was right, “Stevie. Do you think so?”

“I mean I’m not an expert but…yeah?” your eyes shifted from curious to worried as he pulled on his jeans before sitting down next to you, “you’ve been feeling like this…when was your last period? I don’t even remember.”

“It was…” you stopped as you tried to remember. When was the last time you’d even gone for tampons? That was a while ago…definitely not recent, “like two months…holy shit.”

You looked up to find him watching you with big, bright eyes, his face almost breaking in half with his smile. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten excited just yet, but he couldn’t help it, “I guess we’d better make sure before doing anything else. But even the possibility…it’s exciting.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, leaning in to kiss him, crashing your lips onto his softly. It wasn’t that you were or weren’t trying to get pregnant. You both wanted kids, but neither of you wanted the pressure of needing to get pregnant at a certain time or by a certain date. You’d stopped taking birth control almost half a year ago when you both decided that whatever happened happened. 

He gently touched your cheek, before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “t-this is still something you’d want, right? If you don’t or don’t feel ready-”

“I do,” you reassured him, “I really, really, want to have your babies, Steve Harrington. Even the possibility makes me nervous, like I feel like we’re so unprepared, but at the same time I think we’re ready and it’s just…ah! You’re…you still want this, right?”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, taking your face tenderly in his hands, as he just beamed at you, “of course I do. There’s no other person I would want this with. Only you, baby.”

“I love you,” you wrapped your arms around him and he pulled you into his lap as he hugged you back just as fiercely.

“I love you,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, “so much.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d thought about calling him the moment you knew one or way another. But instead you were pacing around the house, test sticks held tightly in your hand as you tried to comprehend the news. Pregnant. Pregnant. You were actually pregnant. You were going to have a small human to take care of soon. You were going to have - no. You weren’t going to panic just yet. Everything else would come in time, but right now you just wanted to bask in the moment. There would be plenty of time to worry and stress and prepare. 

You were so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you almost didn’t hear Steve coming home. But as soon as you heard him call your name, you ran to the door and almost knocked him over in your excitement. He caught you, a big, dopey grin on his face as he looked at you with an expectant expression on his handsome face. 

“Stevie,” you held up the tests in your hand and waved them around, not even letting him get a proper look at the small sticks. You could barely contain the tears, the backs of your eyes almost immediately stinging at the sight of your husband, “you were right! I-I’m pregnant.”

“Wow,” he was looking at you like you’d hung all the stars and moon, “that’s…amazing. I-I don’t even know what to say. I just…I love you. So much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered as you let him pull you tightly into his body, letting you perfectly meld into him, “so much and more.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After finding you were pregnant, things made a lot more sense. All the little things that had been happening, all the little things that were off now had an explanation. The pieces all fit together and you were really left wondering why you’d been so blind to the obvious. But even the knowledge of what was going on  - you know, growing a whole human - didn’t make your physical symptoms any better. 

It was another morning of waking up and feeling almost perfectly fine until you were making waffles…that was when that damned morning sickness hit again. They really should have changed the name from morning sick to any time of day sickness. It was a fickle thing, really, and hit at the least expected times. You’d just come to learn to accept that little fact, reminding yourself that it would be worth it when you got to hold your baby for the first time. 

“Stevie,” you practically threw the tea towel at him as you rushed past him. He’d been sitting at the counter drinking coffee, after having been told you didn’t need his help to cook several times. He looked up in surprise as the towel hit him in the face, “watch the food. I’m gonna puke.”

He watched you go with a frown on his face, placing the towel on the counter before quickly turning off the stove and following you. Once he walked into the bathroom, he found sitting on the floor next to the toilet, a spot that had become all too familiar. You gave him a sheepish smile, which caused him to relax ever so slightly as he grabbed a clean washcloth and ran it under warm water. 

“Poor thing,” he sat down across from you, putting a finger under your chin as he turned your face up to meet his, before tenderly wiping at your mouth. You keened into his touch and he let out an amused little exhale. He hated seeing you have to go through this, but he was also the best partner you could have asked for, “better?”

“‘m okay,” you murmured, “thank you.”

“What was it this time?” he asked as you snorted in amusement. Lately all the most random things had been triggering you, causing you to need to run for the nearest bathroom or trash can at a moment’s notice. Steve tenderly reached over and brushed a few rogue, stray locks of hair off your face, “I’m hoping you’re not going to say it was me.”

“Never,” you promised softly, “although your cologne did get to me that one time…”

“I am definitely taking that personally,” he teased before leaning in and kissing your forehead, “I stopped wearing it after that!”

“A good man,” you grinned at him, “I have no clue what it was today. It just…hit. Maybe this baby decided that they don’t like waffles?”

“No way,” he shook his head playfully, “our daughter absolutely likes waffles. You were craving them nonstop a few weeks ago.”

“Daughter, huh?” you raised an eyebrow as he nodded fervently. He stood up and grabbed your toothbrush, quickly wetting it and putting toothpaste on it. He held his hand out to you and carefully, almost as if you were fragile and made of glass, pulled you to your feet, “what makes you so sure we’re having a daughter? Did you call and ask! Did you cheat?”

“No baby,” he motioned for you to open your mouth before he went to gently brush your teeth. To some it probably seemed like too much, but you couldn’t lie - you loved it. You loved having Steve dote over you, and he loved doing it just as much if not more. If you thought he had been bad before, now that you were pregnant it was tenfold, “I just have a feeling. And you know, my feelings usually turn out right.”

“iwouldntsaythat,” was what you managed to mumble out between the toothpaste and his brushing. His smile grew and he nodded as if he’d understood what you said, “itsfiftyfiftyanyway.”

“Just wait and see,” he insisted, “it’s going to be a girl…and if it’s not, we’ll just keep trying until we have a girl.”

He motioned for you to spit out the foamy, minty mess as he turned on the tap. You grabbed the mouthwash and swished it around before spitting it out as well, “I guess we’ll see. Here’s hoping that whatever baby is next is a little nicer to me than this one. Some women are all about being pregnant and blah blah blah, but this is kicking my ass. I’m sure it’ll get better soon, but sometimes, fuck it’s rough. They’re definitely taking after you so far.”

“Oh? And just how so?” you folded your arms across your chest as you leaned against the counter.

“Being a persistent pain in my ass.”

“Ouch,” he laughed as you couldn’t hold back your own giggles before wrapping him in a tight hug. He sighed dramatically, “I do so much for this family and I get treated so badly.”

“I love you,” you sang at him, taking his face in your hands and peppering his face in minty-fresh kisses, “so, so, so much. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and the best husband, and you’re going to be the best father. I love you so much, Stevie.”

“Okay, I forgive you,” he promised, “I love you too, lots and lots and then some. But I think right now you need to get some rest. Let me make you some tea and then you can lie down for a little bit. Or do you think you’d want to eat something and rest later? Bland foods should be okay for your stomach…but you shouldn’t rest right after eating because that can allegedly make nausea worse.”

“I’m not terribly hungry,” you promised, “some tea might be nice though.”

“I got some tea at the store the other day that should be good. Ginger tea is supposed to be good.”

“Steve,” you took his hand in yours and squeezed it gently, “how do you know all of this?”

His cheeks reddened with a pretty crimson color as he tried to play it off, “I did some reading…and asked a few of the ladies at the office that I know have had kids. They were really helpful…and really excited for us.”

“You…really?” you asked softly as he sheepishly nodded, “you’re the absolute best, I hope you know that.”

“I don’t know about -”

“I do,” you insisted softly, “because it’s the truth. You keep making me fall in love with you, a little more every day. I didn't think I could ever love someone as much as I love you, but here we are.”

“Are you sure or are there a lot of hormones going on?” if only you knew how much your words meant to him. He felt like he was about to burst with love and happiness. You laughed lightly as you dabbed at your damp eyes before letting him hold you tightly.

“Both,” you admitted, “but that doesn’t mean what I said wasn’t true. Really, Steve, you are everything to me. Me and our maybe daughter.”

“Come on,” he started to gently pull you along with him, “let’s get you situated and then you can profess your undying love some more.”

“Okay,” you readily agreed, “I will gladly do that any day, my love.”

“You’re my everything too, just so you know. Both of you.”

“Yeah?”

“Always.”

[dreamerstreamer]

Pocket Knife Prince

Pairing: c!Technoblade x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] You’ve liked Technoblade from the moment he joined Pogtopia, but you could never quite bring yourself to confess. Who knew it would only take a pocket knife and some potatoes to change that?

Warnings: minor cursing & one slightly out of pocket joke

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: this a repost of an older story i had posted a while back. this story takes place back when technoblade was still allied with pogtopia. i hope you enjoy! <3

You huffed as you pulled yourself up another rung on the ladder, your arms straining as you did your best to keep yourself balanced. You still couldn’t fathom why Tommy thought it was a good idea to dig straight down.

“I’ll hit a cave, eventually,” he had told you as he grabbed a pickaxe, already starting to mine away at the space beneath his feet.

“Maybe,” you had said. “But what if you hit a lava pool? Do you really want to burn alive?”

“Oh, I have a backup plan in case I fuck up.” He held up a bucket of water, grinning at you. “Bam. Fucking foolproof.”

Yeah, sure, you thought to yourself with a grimace as you continued to haul yourself upward. You might not have died while digging down, but I might die while climbing up. 

Pausing, you reached behind you to adjust the strap of your back with a cry of frustration. This is way too heavy—I should have gone back earlier.

You looked back up again, squinting for a second before your eyes lit up. At long last, light! You were at least somewhat close to the entrance, now. “Just a bit more climbing,” you muttered to yourself as you reached up once more, “and then you’ll be able to take this stupid bag off.”

A few moments later, you gasped as you finally dragged yourself out of the vertical tunnel, standing up on shaky legs. Without even an ounce of hesitation, you swung your pack off your back, dumping it onto the dusty earth ungracefully. Your muscles practically screamed with relief as you rolled back your shoulders, a wide smile stretching across your face.

“Hey, boys!” you shouted, your voice echoing in the tall ravine. “Guess who’s back?!”

You heard some rumbling, then a tuft of blond hair peeked out from one of the overhanging pillars. “Big [Y/N]!” Tommy shouted, waving at you. “You took for-fuckin’-ever to get back.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s not my fault we needed so much stuff.” You narrowed your gaze. “Also, your ladder idea sucks.” 

Tommy scowled. “My ladder idea is fucking genius, you bi—”

A new voice cut in. “Tommy, that’s enough.”

You smiled triumphantly as you watched Tommy immediately shrink back, his tone quieting as he grumbled defeatedly, “Yes, Wilbur.”

Giving him a quick ruffle of his hair, Wilbur strolled down the ravine’s cobblestone steps down to the bottom. He pulled his hands out of his coat pockets as he flashed you a grin. “Welcome back, [Y/N]. How was the trip?”

You offered him a weary but satisfied look. “Oh, you know. Dark. Dusty. The usual. But…” Bending down, you flipped open the top of your pack and pulled out a smaller sack, shaking it in front of his face. “…I got all that gold you wanted! There’s probably a little less than seven stacks in there, which will be plenty if we want to make some golden apples.”

Wilbur blinked at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise as a smile began to tug at his lips. “Not that I doubt you or anything,” he said, “but where in the world did you manage to get nearly seven stacks of gold?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, dropping the bag into his hands with a hum. “In a cave.” When he stared at you in stunned silence, you quirked a brow at him. “What? It’s not like it was hard.”

He was grinning now, shaking his head. “You’re batshit crazy, [Y/N]. That’s incredible.”

You smiled sheepishly at his words. “For the record,” you pointed out, “I didn’t do it all in a single day or anything. I was gone for, like, half a week.”

“That’s still really good work, alright?” He reached over, playfully punching your shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

You winced, shooting him a dirty look. “Ow, that hur—”

“Oh, you’re back.”

Your head whipped around at the sound of low, rumbling voice. Your frown vanished at the sight of Technoblade standing a few feet away from you, a basket of potatoes held in his gloved hands. You felt your heart swell and a bright grin replace your scowl as you bounced over to him. “Hi, Techno!” you chirped.

He smiled back at you, his gaze kind. “Hello.”

From behind you, Wilbur let out a distressed noise. “Jeez, you seem so excited to talk to him but barely batted an eye at me. Did you miss him that much?”

You stuck your tongue out at him, trying to hide the flush of your cheeks. “More than I did you.”

Tommy cackled as he walked by, adjusting the straps of the pack in his hands. “Ouch. Maybe you should get some ice for that burn, Wilbur.”

Wilbur grimaced, opening his mouth to retort when his gaze suddenly lit up. “Actually,” he said, turning, “speaking of ice, who wants to go with me to the Nether to destroy some of the SMP’s and Manberg’s ice roads?” A devilish grin split across his face. “I figured that it would slow them down a bunch and they’d spend less time focusing on us, so it’ll be easier for us to get into contact with Tubbo.”

You blinked at him, then sent him a teasing smile. “Wilbur, this might one of the only good ideas you’ve had since starting a drug cartel.”

“Thank y—wait, is that a compliment?”

“Man,” Technoblade sighed, rolling his eyes at him, “just take it as one and let your ego coast on that for the next six months.”

“Anyways,” Wilbur said, ignoring him and moving on, “who wants to come with me?”

You shook your head, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “No thanks. I just got back from a long, long mining trip. I think I’m due for some time off.”

Wilbur nodded. “Alright, fair.” His gaze moved to the figure standing next to you. “Techno?”

Technoblade simply raised the basket of potatoes in his hands. “Nah. I’ve got my hands full here.”

Wilbur made a face, a hint of desperation seeping into his eyes. “You can farm potatoes any time,” he said, his voice raising a pitch or two. “How about you just come with m—”

“Why don’t I just go?”

Wilbur froze, and he turned with a shaky smile. “A-Are you sure about that, Tommy? You sure you don’t just want to stay in the ravine with [Y/N]?”

Tommy shrugged, flipping the stick in his hand. “Not really. It’s not like I have anything better to do, anyways.” He nudged the pack at his feet. “I’m even packed and ready to go, too.”

Wilbur swallowed, and you could have sworn a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. “You really want to come?” he added, sounding more and more uncertain with each word that passed his lips.

“I dunno, Wilbur,” Technoblade spoke up, quirking his lips at him, “but it almost sounds like you don’t want to bring Tommy with you.”

Tommy gasped, looking appalled. “What the hell, Will? Of course you want me to go with you, right?”

Wilbur turned on his heel, dragging a tired hand over his face. “Sure, Tommy. Let’s just say that.” He strode away toward the stairs, practically stomping his way up to the second floor. “Just give me a second to grab a pack,” he sighed, waving a hand behind him. “I’ll be down in like five minutes.”

Tommy threw his hands in the air, waving his stick. “Fuck yeah!”

Technoblade let out a quiet chuckle, turning on his heel. “Well, I’m gonna go back to farming.”

You glanced at him shyly, trailing after him. “Can I come with?”

His step faltered, and he turned to send you a fond look. “Always.”

Your heart lit up at the sight and you grinned, following him into the garden room. The entirety of the floor had been replaced with dirt, tiny streams of water weaving their way around the potato patches. You let out a quiet hum as Technoblade set the basket of potatoes on the ground, grabbing a hoe from its place on the wall and walking over to the makeshift field. Digging the blade of the hoe into the earth, he pulled back and repeated the motion until the soft, dark soil was exposed to the air. Leaning back against the wall, a soft smile crept onto your face as you watched.

You remembered when Technoblade first arrived in the Dream SMP, all those months ago. You had been sitting in the ravine, peeling an apple with a pocket knife as you chatted with Wilbur, when Tommy burst in with a deafening shout about “the blade”. Raising your head, you had opened your mouth to make a snarky retort, but the words died in your mouth the minute you laid eyes on him.

He looked like a prince—a handsome one, at that.

While Wilbur had jumped down to greet Technoblade with a friendly hug, you had simply stared at the newcomer, pocket knife in your hand and apple slice in the other. As Tommy brought Technoblade over to you and asked you to introduce yourself, you remembered that dizzy pink feeling rising in your chest as you blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Want an apple slice?”

You had expected him to be confused, shaking his head and pulling away with a disgusted look. But instead, his gaze flickered to your hand.

“I’d rather have the knife.”

You had blinked at him for a moment, stunned, then burst into laughter, outstretching your hand with the pocket knife handle extended toward him. He had offered you a small, awkward smile back, gingerly taking the knife from you. When his hands brushed against yours, that hazy, rosy feeling swelled in your chest again.

Ever since that moment, you’d only fallen harder and harder.

It was difficult to put into words just what drew you to Technoblade. Of course, he was pretty, but you weren’t that shallow. He had an awkward charm to him, something that seeped into every aspect of his being. He was hardworking, determined, sarcastic, and oh-so very real. You couldn’t name one thing about him that you didn’t like, really. You loved his laughter that came in brief, giggling bursts. Every time he smiled, you couldn’t help but smile back. He never failed to keep you guessing, and you loved every second you spent with him.

You weren’t sure how far you’d fallen at this point, but you knew one thing, and it was that there was no going back.

“Hey,” a new voice said suddenly, pulling you away from your thoughts. You turned, watching Tommy stick his head into the room. “Can I have some potatoes for the trip?”

Your eyes shot to Technoblade, who paused for a moment, then nodded, gesturing to the basket at his feet. “Sure. You can have a couple.”

Tommy grinned, strolling in to lean down and pluck three potatoes from the pile. Standing back up again, he toed the basket, tossing and catching a potato in his hands. “Hey, Techno,” he said, “don’t you ever get tired of farming these things?”

Technoblade paused, patting down the dirt he had just covered another potato with. “Eh, not really.” His eyes flickered with contentment, and you felt your lips twitch. “I like it.”

Tommy frowned. “But,” he said, “it’s so fucking boring.”

You gasped, shooting him a glare. “Tommy! That’s mean.”

“What? Am I wrong?” He flung his arm out to point at the tilled dirt, clearly unimpressed. “All he’s doing is the same fucking thing over and over, again. We’re in a war, [Y/N]. Why can’t he just spar with me or something?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, deadpanning. “Tommy, the last time you sparred with Technoblade, you lasted less than ten seconds.” 

He grew quiet. “Okay, well, you didn’t have to put it like that, but—”

“What? Am I wrong?” you said, mimicking him.

A second passed. Then two.

“…touché, [Y/N].”

“Tommy!” Wilbur’s voice echoed from the top of the stairs, his head popping out from between the railings. “You ready to go?”

Without missing a beat, Tommy whipped around, rushing out of the farm room and slipping up the stairs. “I’m coming!”

A smirk tugged at Wilbur’s lips. “Heh.”

“Wha—oh, Will! That’s fucking disgusting.”

“But it was funny,” you called out after the youngest.

“Fuck off, [Y/N]!”

Beside you, Technoblade let out a laugh, his eyes curving into two crescent moons as he set down the hoe and picked up a shovel. With a fond smile gracing your lips, you took a step toward him, leaning down to take a closer look. There was something so endearing about knowing someone as powerful as Technoblade had a hobby as mundane as farming—farming potatoes, to be more specific. 

You liked it. A lot. You liked him a lot.

You wondered how much longer you could go without saying it aloud.

“Hey, Techno,” you murmured, watching his ears perk up at the sound of your voice, “could you teach me the best way to plant potatoes?”

He paused, his shovel planting itself in the earth as he turned to look at you, his lips parted in surprise. “Y-You actually want to learn?”

You bobbed your head, praying that your face wasn’t growing any warmer. “Of course. Fighting’s fun and all, but there’s more to life than just bloodshed.” You flashed him a bright grin. “Besides, an army needs food to fight!”

With a small grin, he gestured for you step closer. “You want to make sure you dig about six to eight inches down,” he explained, gesturing down the hole with his finger. “If you don’t dig deep enough, then the potato will be too close to the surface, and if you dig too deep, it’ll have a harder time reaching the top.”

You nodded, your tongue swiping over your lips in concentration. Technoblade let out a brief cough, turning away with a slight flush to his cheeks as he grabbed a potato from the basket next to him. “Then,” he continued, “grab a potato. You’ll want to cut it in half down the middle and plant it so the cut side is facing downwards.”

Sticking a hand into his pocket, he rummaged around for a second before pulling out a familiar pocket knife. Your eyes flashed with recognition as he flipped the blade open and sliced through the potato with ease.

“Is that,” you began slowly, your tone tentative and gentle, “my pocket knife? From when we first met?”

Technoblade’s hands faltered as he sliced, his gaze flickering to you with a bashful look. “It’s—um, yeah. Does… does that bother you?”

You immediately shook your head, waving your hands in front of you. “No, not at all! I-I was just wondering. I haven’t seen it in a while, that’s all.”

He lowered his chin, and you could have sworn his cheeks were pink. “I’ve been taking good care of it,” he admitted quietly, his gaze not meeting yours. “It’s important to me.”

You blinked, your heart beating faster in your chest. “It is?” you whispered.

He nodded. “It is.”

You wanted to curl up into a ball and squeal. It only took two simple words from him to send you into a flurry of awkward smiles and blushing whines. You couldn’t believe just how far gone you were.

Technoblade stretched a hand toward you, half of the potato he cut clutched between his fingers. “Here. You try planting one.”

With a shaky hand, you gently pulled the potato from his hands, nearly flinching at the feeling of his skin brushing against yours. Carefully, you reached over and set the potato face down like he had instructed. You pointed your hand toward the pile of dirt lying just beside the hole, about to start covering the potato when his arm shot out in front of you.

“Wait,” he said suddenly, making you freeze in place. “You don’t have gloves on. I don’t want your hands to get dirty.”

You sent him a small smile, waving a hand dismissively at him. “A little dirt never hurt anyone.”

He didn’t budge. “Please. Let me.”

That fuzzy feeling was back, and you pulled back. “Okay,” you whispered, your stomach swarming with butterflies as you watched him cover your planted potato with his hands. For someone who made a lot of jokes regarding human ethics, he was far more caring than he let on.

“Y’know,” you said softly, glancing over at him, “it’s really cool watching you do this, even if Tommy thinks it’s boring.” A small smile flitted across your face. “There are all these specific conditions that you have to know to have the most efficient farm with the best percent yield of potatoes—it’s honestly kind of surreal just how much brainpower actually goes into farming.”

Technoblade stared at you, his eyes reflecting something thoughtful and warm, and another thought popped into your head. You felt your cheeks begin to grow warm at the words swirling around your head. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you opened your mouth, again.

“I-I, um,” you began shakily, suddenly finding the scuff mark on your shoe very interesting, “I really hope you know how smart we think you really are. How smart I know you are. Because you are. Smart, that is.”

You must have been trembling, you could almost feel it. Why was it so hard to put your feelings into words? At this rate, you were never going to be able to confess how you felt. Just how much longer could you drag this out fo—

“Hey,” he said gently, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. You turned your head, your lips parting as you looked at him in surprise. The moment his soft gaze met yours, a spark of electricity ran through your veins, and you shivered for an entirely different reason.

“Thank you,” he murmured, tilting his head at you. “I appreciate it.”

Suddenly, he squinted his eyes at you, his carmine gaze narrowing. “Oh wait, you’ve got something on your face,” he murmured, inching closer in to take a better look.

“Oh,” you said, a hand immediately darting up to your cheek, “that’s probably just some dust or soot or something. You know, from the mines.” You wiped at your face with the back of your hand, embarrassment shooting up your spine knowing that you probably looked dumb. “Did I get it?”

He frowned, pulling off his gloves as he leaned closer. “No, here let me just—”

Suddenly, his hand was on your face, your cheek held gently in his palm. Your heart came barreling to a stop, your entire body freezing like ice. 

He was so close.

The pads of his finger were warm and calloused, yet they held a certain softness to him as his thumb slowly swiped just under her eye, careful to brush away the dirt that marred your face. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you found yourself unable to look away from him, hyperaware of the goosebumps that shot up your sides as his gaze met yours. A prince—he really did look like a prince.

For a moment, the two of you simply gazed at one another, a silent question hanging over you.

Before you could stop yourself, you opened your mouth.

“Can I say something kind of crazy?” you whispered.

“Of course,” he whispered, not moving his gaze from yours for even a heartbeat.

You sucked in a deep breath, screwing your eyes shut. “I…” You swallowed. “I really, really want to kiss you, right now.”

A moment of silence passed, and you held your breath, tension digging itself into your shoulders. Oh, I’m totally about to get rejected. This was such a bad idea. What was I even thinki—

“Can—” He started then stopped, and you could have sworn his cheeks were pink. “Can I say something even crazier?”

You heart leapt. “Yeah, totally,” you breathed.

He turned back to look at you, and you felt something deep in your chest click. “I really, really want to kiss you, too.”

Your eyes flew wide, and you couldn’t stop the giddy grin forming on your face. Almost imperceptibly, Technoblade dipped his head down close to yours, his crimson eyes darting across your face as he took in your every feature. As he leaned closer toward you, a question silently flashes in his gaze. 

Can I…?

You smiled and nodded oh-so subtly, just for him to see.

Yes, yes, yes.

Ever so slowly, he leaned down toward you, and you felt your eyelids flutter shut. Just then, his lips met yours, soft and tentative like a deer taking its first, shaky steps. Electric ran down your spine at his velvet touch, your hands reaching up to wrap around his neck and touch his cherry blossom pink hair. His crown tumbled to the ground off his head, rolling a few times before coming to a full stop, but neither of you particularly noticed, far too enraptured with one another to care.

This was everything you could have possibly asked for.

A moment later, you pulled apart, gasping for air as the two of you gazed into each other’s eyes. His hair had been mussed by your touch, his lips parted and puffy from the kiss.

You didn’t think he could look any more princely, but he still managed to prove you wrong.

Clearing your throat, you cast eyes away in shy embarrassment. “I feel like I should also clarify that this means I like you,” you added in a rush, fidgeting with your hands. “Like, way more than I thought I could ever like a person.”

Technoblade let out a sigh of relief, lips curling at the corners. “Oh, that’s good. I like you, too.” Your heart did a backflip in your chest, shouting in celebration as he added, “I was sort of thinking we were just gonna kiss and never talk about it, again.”

You shot him a quizzical look. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.”

He sent you a crooked smile, but his gaze was fond. “Only kind of.”

You weren’t quite sure how many minutes passed in comfortable silence, both of you simply basking in the other’s warm presence. It was nice—this was nice. You wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while longe—

“—y it, Tommy, just say it!”

Your eyes shot wide open in panic. Across from you, Technoblade’s expression mirrored your own.

They were back.

“I’m telling you it’s okay, Tommy—you can call me ‘Wilby’ if you want to!”

Flailing your arms in a panic, you immediately began to backpedal to the other side of the room, Technoblade picking up his shovel and beginning to shovel as fast as he could.

“You’re still going off about this shit? Jesus Christ, I don’t want to call you ‘Wilby’, oh my fucking go—”

Wilbur crooned as they stepped into the garden room, “Aww, Tommy, my little gremlin.”

“Shut the fuck up, Wilbu—”

“B-Back so soon?” you prompted, pretending to have been looking at the potato field with great focus as you turned to face them.

Wilbur turned away from Tommy, the smile sliding off his face. He nodded with a sigh, adjusting the pack on his back. “We almost got to the portal, but Antfrost saw us, so we had to book it.” 

Technoblade paused his movements, deadpanning with an unimpressed tone. “Tragic.”

Tommy scowled at him. “Don’t sound so cocky, bitch. You didn’t have to outrun like, half of the SMP all the way back here without getting tracked.” Suddenly his gaze shot to the ground, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “And why’s your fuckin’ crown on the ground?” he muttered, snatching it from the dusty floor and tossing it back over to Technoblade.

“No reason,” you said half a beat too quickly.

Wilbur’s eyes flitted back forth between you and Technoblade, taking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and Technoblade’s disheveled hair. Then, a sly, scheming smile crept onto his face. You gulped.

Oh, he totally knew.

“Tommy,” he said, the shit-eating grin still plastered to his face, “how do you feel about going on another trip with me?”

Tommy’s head whipped around, his eyes swimming with confusion. “Another trip?” he parroted.

Wilbur nodded, still smiling. “Yep. Another trip. Let’s get going, yeah? I’ve got something wonderful in mind.”

Before Tommy could even react, Wilbur had grabbed onto the handle of his pack, dragging him back and up the stairs. “Wilbur! What the fuck? Where are we even fucking going?”

“On a trip!” Wilbur sang as he trudged up the stairs with Tommy in tow. Throwing one last glance over his shoulder, he sent you a knowing wink. “You two have fun, now.”

You gaped at him as he walked off, Tommy still kicking at his heels when they vanished from sight. A moment passed in silence before you turned to look at Technoblade, again.

“He knows,” you whispered, half in awe and half in horror.

Technoblade grimaced back at you. “Oh, he absolutely does.”

A beat of silence fell over you. Your eyes locked onto his carmine ones, and something seemed to click just then, a smile crossing both of your faces.

Indeed, Wilbur had just provided you with the perfect opportunity.

Who were the two of you to not take it?

[owlswritingcafe]

Blue Ramune Kakigori (Summertime Saddness Collab)

Warnings: MINORS AND AGELESS DNI. TIMESKIP SOUYA IS USED.

Reader: Gender Neutral + AFAB Sub/Brat Reader

Word count: 3k

Genre: Smut, Oneshot

Content Warning + Trigger Warnings: implied poly Smiley+Angry x Reader, Full nelson, public sex, theft (just one thing), oral (male receiving) after vaginal penetration, pussy slapping, recording, vaginal penetration, Reader is called baby (not in a kink way), implied tits on reader sorta

Summary: You two finally arrived at the little beach shop. You really wished the shop was air conditioned while you browsed the inventory. As you browsed, Souya was looking away, too embarrassed to even look your way, practically acting as if you were changing in front of him.

Well… That did give you an idea.

“Do I really need to be in here with you while you change?”

This is my Souya contribution to the “Summertime Saddness” Collab hosted by @mitsuyaa​ ! I am honored to be a part of this collab!

It was damn hot out and you and Souya were melting in this heat. It got to the point the three of you had to close the shop for the day, and it wasn’t even a Tuesday. 

God knows what kind of mix a summer heated kitchen with Smiley would be for the annoying customers… 

You and Souya were laying on the living room floor, fanning each other and suffering in the summer heat as the television played in the background, acting as white noise while you two tried to help the other in this melting heat. You even helped Souya tie his hair back. 

It didn’t really do much for him.

For you though, it only made you hotter.

The two of you really should have gone with Nahoya when he said he was going to visit Mikey and Emma’s little bakery to help the two out with customers. That cute little shop at least had some air conditioning there… 

Sitting back up, you face the tv that’s been occupying the silence. On screen you are met with a beach scene. You dunno if it was an ad or a movie, either way you were convinced. You scooched yourself over to where Souya laid, shaking him and pointing at the beach scene on tv. With a pained groan he agreed to go to the beach with you. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t have a swimsuit on hand so you and Souya decided to buy the swimsuit once you two were at the beach. 

God, you could go for something cold right now…

                                              ─── ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ───

You two finally arrived at the little beach shop. You really wished the shop was air conditioned while you browsed the inventory. As you browsed, Souya was looking away, too embarrassed to even look your way, practically acting as if you were changing in front of him.

Well… That did give you an idea.

Folding your chosen swimsuits over one arm, you hook your free arm with Souya’s and drag him to the changing room with you. All the while, the blue haired man starts sputtering in confusion as you bring him to the changing room near the end of the hall. You gently pushed him down on the chair, urging him to sit down.

“Do I really need to be in here with you while you change?” Souya was already hiding his face with his hands, peeking at you through the gaps of his fingers

“Well, I do need a second opinion on these outfits.” You dangle the swimsuits in his face only for him to close the gaps between his fingers once more, as if he was hiding from the swimsuits.

“Couldn’t you have sent me pictures?” 

“Oh~? Souya, I didn’t know you were into that kinda stuff, you should’ve told me earlier~!” You giggled as the man started stumbling over his words again, looking at you with taken aback eyes.

“No! That’s n-not what I meant and you know it!” You giggled, starting to strip your clothes to change, causing Souya to let out a squeak and hide behind his hands once more.

“Souya… My little cotton candy babe… It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve seen me naked you know.”

“I know! But still-” You gently place your hand on his, slowly pushing them down to his lap. The sight of you only in your undergarments made the man’s face flush a dark red, you could practically see the steam come out his ears. 

“I need you to look at all of me… How’re you gunna judge properly if you’re not looking?” You smooched his hot cheek before stripping the last of the clothes that separated his eyes from your naked body. This time, Souya’s eyes never left once from your body as you stripped. 

Taking off the last of your clothing, you were finally bare as the day you were born in front of your boyfriend. He looked at your body with such intensity, as if any moment could be his last day before he could fully memorize your body. You chuckled, giving him a 360 spin of your bare body.

“It would be interesting if it was a nudist beach, but unfortunately it’s not that kinda beach. Maybe next time?” He perked at up at the thought of a nudist beach but started vehemently shaking his head at the suggestion. 

“I… I don’t want anyone else staring at your naked body like that!” He looked away, embarrassed about his slightly possessive thought. You only chuckled as you held him by the chin and turned his head to face you once more.

“I’m just teasing, sweetie. Now then, remember to keep your eyes on me.” You grabbed the first swimsuit from the pile and put it on. The intense stare Souya had on previously returned once more. Once you got the swimsuit on, you did your 360 spin like before. You catch him doing a quick glance to the mirror behind you so he could try to get a longer view of your ass.

“So… What do you think of this one so far?” 

“U-Uhm, I… Uh, can… Can you turn around again?” You smiled and happily showed off the other side of the swimsuit, watching Souya’s intense stare through the mirror. 

A little plan to rile up your boyfriend popped into your head, a mischievous little smirk twisted its way onto your face.

You start to move backwards, surprising the man and only making him flush an even deeper red once you sat on his lap. You could already feel his hard-on through his shorts, he must have been like this for a while.

“Just looking wouldn’t do. We need to test all parts of this swimsuit.” You licked your lips as you grind yourself on his lap, you could feel your boyfriend get even harder as you kept moving. “How’s that feel? You think it’s good?” You teased him with questions when he’s currently way too focused on trying to not break you in this tiny changing room. A public area for goodness sake!

But to be quite honest, that’s what you’re praying for. 

You just want him to let loose and push you against the mirror, move the swimsuit bottoms to the side and punish your pussy right there. You want him to pound your pussy so hard that you can’t sit down for days. 

His hands were gripping on the bench so hard that it was starting to crack. You placed a hand over his, bringing his hand to your chest, waiting a bit for him to realize what you’ve done. You turned your head to face him properly, at this point, there was steam coming out of his whole head.

“How’s the material? Isn’t it soft?” Souya couldn’t even process what you said and just stared at your lips, nodding his head like he was paying attention. His dick on the other hand was paying attention to every word, twitching at your sultry tone. You guided his hand downwards to your thighs, urging him to give them a little squeeze by squeezing his hand. It was like you were controlling every little move he made.

God…

He can’t take it anymore!

Souya called out your name as he suddenly wrapped his arms around you, his head resting in the crook of your neck, soft and bouncy curls tickled your face. The feeling of his lips on your neck sent shivers up your spine. His hand you had guided started to travel downwards, finding its way in your underwear. Souya’s fingers slowly started rubbing circles on your little clit, he moved his legs so that you could spread your legs for him while his other hand released your chest from its prison and started to grope and grab at your chest, firm but gentle. You were fully spread out for him in the mirror, you were already looking fucked out of your mind, sweat glistened and clung to your body as an occasional shiver rocked through your body from your boyfriend’s touches. 

You bit your lip, trying to not let any moans escape your throat. The tears already started to form in your eyes as you felt two fingers enter your cunt and reach all the places you could never reach with your own fingers. You felt sharp teeth graze the side of your neck, not enough to make a scratch, but the feeling alone made your little cunt throb. The feeling was so good yet agonizing, you just wanted him inside you already. Looking back in the mirror, you saw Souya’s piercing gaze. Even now, he was trying to memorize every little twitch your body made from his touch.

You brought a shaky hand to his hair, gently playing and twirling a lone curl with your pointer finger. You were mesmerized with the way it wrapped itself around your finger like a predator trapping its prey. As you continued to play with his light blue hair, his fingers only started to move faster and deeper inside you as his pad of his thumb played with your sensitive clit. Releasing the single curl from your finger, you comb your hand through his bangs, revealing his mostly hidden face and making his already striking eyes pop out even more. A moan finally escaped your lips when he hit the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. The moan only encouraged him further to rub the nerves inside you.

“Right there baby? There? God, you’re so wet for me right now…” You can already feel yourself close to cumming on his fingers, you place your free hand over his hand that was practically drenched in your pussy juices. His movements halted immediately when he felt your hand over his, making you whine a bit.

“Souya please… I wanna cum on your big cock…” Souya gulped at the sound of your voice, fuck, that voice alone could make him cum in his shorts. 

“Alright… I’ll give it to you babe.” Souya pushed down his shorts and briefs, hissing as the air reached his throbbing cock, he moved the hand drenched in your pussy juices all over his cock. Afterwards, he took out his phone and handed it to you.

See, there was a rule you and the twins had set up before you had officially gotten in a relationship with those two. If either twin is alone with you then they need to record the sessions they had with you so the other isn’t left out. The other twin makes it up with you after.

With a shaky hand, you unlock Souya’s phone and start recording the mirror where the two of you were fully visible. Your blue haired boyfriend lifts you up a bit and hooks his arms around your legs, putting you in a full nelson position. With one hand holding the phone, your free hand traveled downwards to his weeping cock. With how much his dick was throbbing, even his cock lived up to his old little nickname. You gave his cock a few more pumps before pushing him inside your tight cunt.

The feeling of being filled to the brim made you so full, you almost came on the spot. Souya shifted to spread his legs out more, starting at a slow pace. You gripped the phone tightly, with two shaky fingers, you zoomed in where you and Souya were connected. The closer view of the disgustingly lewd sight of your dripping wet pussy and his cock inside you only burned you up inside even more. Your free hand snaked down your body and your fingers found its way to your sensitive clit, rubbing little circles that matched the pace your boyfriend fucked you with. The sight of you playing with yourself as he fucked you gave Souya a little idea, he bit his lip at the image of what he wanted you to do.

“Babe, babe… Could you… Spank your pussy for me?” The question caught you off guard a bit. Souya usually wasn’t for spanking in fear of accidentally hurting you, unlike his brother who was all for manhandling you anyway he saw fit, with your consent of course.

 “You need- ah, a punishment f-for teasing me this whole trip.” And with that you spanked yourself, landing right on your clit. It’s not as good as how ‘Hoya spanks you, but it being a command from Souya is what made it feel so good.

“Harder. It’s supposed t-to be a punishment.” You spanked yourself harder, biting your lip this time to keep yourself from screaming. Souya started to pound your tight little cunt even faster, the tip of his cock repeatedly hit your cervix. The harsh thrusting from your boyfriend mixed with his balls slapping your ass and the spanks you were giving yourself was sending you over the edge. 

You threw your head back onto Souya as you creamed on his big cock. Even as you came, he only continued to thrust. You were trying to catch your breath until he suddenly released your legs and pushed you up against the mirror. You still (somehow) had the phone in your grip, you flip the camera to selfie mode before pointing it downwards to give it a better view of your pussy.

Your poor little cunt was getting abused by your boyfriend’s harsh thrusting. The hard grip on your ass only added to the overstimulating pleasure you felt in this moment, the shame you felt as your breath fogged up the mirror looking at yourself didn’t help either. You had just came but you could feel a second one coming already.

Before Souya could cum, he pulled out, leaving your poor pussy empty and desperate to grip on something. He moved back a bit, the loss of stability made you fall onto your knees. You turned back, only to be face to face with your boyfriend’s dripping wet cock. 

“Give me the phone.” Souya was flushed and out of breath, you handed him the phone and he turned the camera towards you.

“Suck.” Like a dog with a bone, you happily pounced on his cock. You could taste yourself on his wet cock and that only made you even more wet. Your hands gripped his legs as you bobbed your head up and down his dick, then you moved your mouth off his cock with a small ‘pop!’ You started to suck his shaft while one of your free hands played with the tip, all the while you looked up at Souya and the camera with the biggest pleading eyes you can muster.

“God, you really gotta make yourself so cute even while sucking my dick?” The blue haired man used a free hand to gently move you off his cock then moved his hand to the back of your head. He did a quick pause so you could mentally prepare yourself for what happened next.

The hand firmly gripped you and thrusted his dick inside your mouth. Souya moved your head up and down his thick cock. The filling of it going down your throat made you feel like a personalized fleshlight whenever your boys did this to you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

With one final thrust, Souya was balls deep down your throat. The hot feeling of his cum sent shivers up your spine. Truthfully, sucking his dick made you cum too, all while not being touched. Souya pulled his softening member from your throat, with some left over cum lingering on your tongue.

You looked at the camera with your open mouth and closed your mouth to swallow the last bit of cum then reopened your mouth revealing you did, indeed, swallow the cum. The sight of you so lewd and thoroughly fucked makes him almost makes him wanna go again.

… Almost.

After stopping the recording and sending it to his brother, Souya started to stagger a bit from everything.

“Oh god, are you okay baby?” You quickly stood up, reaching out in case he faints, ignoring the dull pain from all the fucking he did your your pussy.

“Y-yeah, it’s just really hot right now.” Souya properly put his shorts back on and sat back down. He doesn’t remember when his hair got untied but he re-tied his hair back to cool down a bit more.

You on the other hand found out you and Souya just ruined the swim suit you had just tried on. Shamefully, you put your previous clothes back on.

… Well, it looks like you’re going to have to put the swimsuit in your bag.

“Babe. Babe, what are you doing? Are you stealing it?”

“Look, if you wanna be the one to slap this wet thing on the counter and explain why it's wet without any water in this damn place then be my guest.” That quickly shut your boyfriend up and made him blush a deep red. Well, since that swimsuit is out of the question, it looks like you’re gunna have to buy one of the other swimsuits you chose.

After the slightly awkward, but quick exchange at the register, you two decided to buy some shaved ice and water so Souya doesn’t faint in this heat. You could feel the dull pain as you sat down in front of Souya with the blue shaved ice.

As you fed Souya some sweet shaved ice, you were greeted with a text from Nahoya.

‘If you needed someone to spank you like that, you should have invited me. Next time, I’ll make sure the hits aren’t some pussy weak slaps like that.’

Fuck.

Looks like today is going to be a long day for your poor pussy.