#as a lil kid i could jump and hover a little bit

[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 19 : broken soul

The monkeys discover what MK was hiding

Macaque was ahead of him, Sock curled up on his shoulders. The little fluff ball had demanded to be carried the second they began to walk and the warrior conceded easily, even him couldn't win in the face of her sparkling eyes. Sun Wukong discreetly took one or two pictures, and if Macaque remained obvious, Sock turned once or twice towards the camera, her eyes flashing in the dark night.

They caught up with the kid quite easily, with Macaque's way of bending the shadows to his will, and his golden vision, it wasn't very difficult. Even if the sage insisted for the warrior to not push himself, he hovered around him each time his frown seemed a little too deep, peeking over his shoulder with worry. And each time he approached him, Sock pawed at his face. Macaque was annoyed with his hovering, but his frown eased each time Sock pawed at him, softness settling on his face for a second, before letting smugness take over.

MK wasn't going very fastly, he was walking along the shaded streets, singing to an old song blasting in his headphones.

Macaque jumped on a nearby trash can and climbed a wall, running on the roof. Sock was unbothered by it all, licking one of her paws and rubbing her fuzzy head as she rested on the warrior shoulders. Sun Wukong stilled a second, a bit stunned by the sudden jump. He took a deep breath, chasing away his insecurities, and tried to mimic the warrior. The first jump came easily, but he tripped when he landed on the roof, feet stuttering.

Macaque caught his wrist before he could stumble, and steadied him. Sun Wukong quickly regained his balance, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Oh, wow. Guess I drank too much." Awkwardly chuckled the sage.

"Wukong, you drank tea." Replied the Macaque with a raised eyebrow.

"My statement still stands." Mumbled the King.

"You idiot." Laughed the warrior, he nuzzled the cat perched on his shoulders, Sock meowed happily and nuzzled back. "Look, she agrees with me. I'm her favorite." The King gasped, fasly outraged, and looked at his lil lady with teary eyes.

"Nooo, my fluffy triangle, how could you." Mumbled the sage, he leaned over his lil bud, Sock meowed at him joyously, happy to see him, and licked his snout. "Hmm, nah, I'm still her favorite."

"She just knows you better. She's on my shoulders now, so that's proof I'm her favorite."

"No, she's just curious." Refuted the sage. He leaned over his cat and nuzzled her lovingly. "Says, my lil sage, who do you prefer between me and Macaque?" Sock tilted her head and looked between him and Macaque. She pawed at him, and he beamed, going as far as to jump in the air in joy.

"That means nothing." Chuckled the warrior. "She's still on my shoulders." Sock meowed at the warrior and gently pawed his face (she was more gentle with him than with the sage). "Look, she's pawing at me now."

"Well, sure, you could be her second favorite, I suppose."

"Hm, guess it's better than nothing. Right, lil sage of floof ?" Sock purred happily, and hid in his neck, enjoying the warmth he provided. Sun Wukong looked over the both of them, a soft smile on his lips. His heart was fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird, it was so lovely to see the both of them bonding. He didn't know it felt so good to see two people (cat?) he cared about bonding with each other. Macaque must have felt his gaze, he looked up at him with inquiry. The sage stopped staring, and cleared his throat, trying to calm his beating heart.

"Let's go, MK will lose us."

"I doubt that, the kid is a snail."

"Hey, don't doubt my mentee. He's fast as a jaguar!"

"Hm, are you sure about that?" Asked the macaque as he pointed at the kid, who wasn't very far despite their little breather.

"… That's an exception."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."

"How dare you." Chuckled the King.

"I always dare, Wukong. You know me." Replied the macaque, he resumed their chasing, running on the roof with light footsteps. Sun Wukong ran after him, trying to smother his laugh in his palm to not blow their cover.

MK walked towards the outskirts of the city, he stretched a little there and turned into an eagle. Wukong wondered why he bothered walking, he could have flown right away, but he supposed he had his reasons. The sage summoned his cloud, fluffied it a little, and tentatively offered his hand to the warrior, eyes fleeting. Macaque passed by him without taking his hand, because of course he did, and climbed the cloud, settling comfortably. He put Sock in his arms, holding her tightly, and turned towards the sage with a fanged smile on his lips. The sage's heart skipped a beat, and he climbed his own cloud with a thumping tail. They soared after the kid, navigating through the clouds with ease, using the sage's piercing eyes to find shaded paths.

MK flew across a desert, his wings piercing the chilling winds of the night. Sun Wukong had an inkling as to where his mentee was going. It wasn't hard to guess considering the kid mentioned Red Son. Soon enough, the Bull's fortress appeared on the horizon, a castle of steel standing strong in the midst of ruby red trails of lava. MK landed quietly, before the massive entry, and regained his form. He was brought in by Red Son, and disappeared behind the heavy door.

"Maybe they're just hanging out?" Mumbled the warrior as they hovered above the fortress.

"Do you really believe that?" Replied the King.

"They seemed quite chummy."

"Chummy as in…"

"I don't know… Maybe they're dating."

"What? MK is too young for that!"

"He's 22?" Retorted the warrior, an amused shine in his eyes, as if Wukong's plight was funny.

"Exactly. That's too young. Anyway, we're going in."

"Oh yeah ? And who's gonna take care of miss cutie over there?" Asked the warrior as he petted the lil lady spread on his lap, she meowed happily and chased after the pets. Sun Wukong frowned for a second, he took a bunch of his hair and invoked one clone.

"You, take care of Sock while we're gone." Ordered the sage.

"Got it boss!" Yelped the clone, he carefully took the cat from Macaque's lap, eyes lingering a bit too long on the warrior, before nuzzling the lil lady lovingly. "Aww, come on my lil sage, you're hanging out with the coolest clone tonight."

"Well, that's one way to solve this." Muttered the ebony monkey.

"Yeah, now come on!"

The sage leaped out of the cloud and transformed into a hawk, Macaque followed behind him, traveling through his shadows. They passed by an open window, quietly landing in one of the castle corridors.

"Hey, Macaque. You're good with magic or…?" Tentatively asked the sage as he regained foot, and changed back. Macaque flinched, tail shyly coiling on his ankle, and looked away. Sun Wukong wordlessly took one of his hands and pressed it against his forehead, giving bits of his magic to aid the other. Macaque yanked back his hand after a few seconds and muttered a wavering “thank you”.

The sage turned into a butterfly and flew away, his eyes glowing with a subtle shine to help him see through the dark. Macaque sank in his shadows, quietly following after the sage. Sun Wukong found his mentee rather quickly, MK was with Red Son, in a lavish room filled with papers and scrolls. The sage hid in one corner, listening attentively to the two chattering kids. Macaque settled in the sage's shadow, taking control of his silhouette, Sun Wukong tried to not let himself be affected by that. The feeling of having someone in his shadow was nostalgic, something he was used to in his youth. But it wasn't the time for nostalgic musing, he had to focus.

"So you found the next piece?" Asked MK with a beaming smile.

"Well, yeah. It's not that far from here but it's in a dangerous territory."

"I'm sure Mei and I can handle it! Besides, I'm the Monkie Kid."

"It's serious, Noodle boy. You're sure you don't want to ask your mentors for help? Actually, they should know, especially the black furred one." Sighed the little Bull as he turned towards a worn map carefully hung on one of his walls.

"No… They're going through a lot right now, I don't want to worry them." Mumbled the kid as he played with his hoodie strings.

"But it concerns them."

"Yeah… But I don't want to… you know how Macaque is. It's better if we do it this way."

"We don't even know if the black simian will agree to try-"

"I'm sure he will. I know he doesn't want to… you know."

"Alright." Conceded Red Son. MK suddenly sprang on his feet, eyes narrowed in confusion, flickers of gold passing through his iris. Sun Wukong was at the same time very proud of his mentee for sensing their presence, but also very worried. Before he could try to hide, he was pushed in the shadows, swallowed by the darkness.

The shadows were cold, snakes of darkness coiling around him, dragging him in their nest, trapping him inside. Macaque was the only thing he could grab in this place, the only thing he could sense. The warrior made them emerge outside, in front of the heavy door. Sun Wukong immediately called his cloud, and they soared away from the fortress.

"I thought you would take longer, what happened?" Asked the clone as he handed snacks to the lil lady. Where he got the snacks was a mystery, Wukong knew it wasn't made of hair.

"The kid spotted us." Sighed the King, the clone nodded, he poofed himself when he sensed the cold atmosphere between them. Sun Wukong took Sock and held her tightly, not willing to let her free on the cloud. They flew in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, musing about what they heard. "I… Do you know what the kid was talking about?" Finally asked the sage.

"No." Sighed the warrior, eyes downcast, a storm brewing in his twilight iris.

"Do you think it's linked to your state? "Macaque flinched, he turned away, arms clutching his own fur.

"Why do you think that?"

"They were scrolls about soul magic littering the room. And from how they talked about you… it's safe to assume it's linked."

"… I don't know, maybe." Silence embraced them once again, Sun Wukong let a few gusts of wind pass through his fur, letting the warrior catch his breath, before resuming the talk.

"I know… that you don't want to talk about it. And I understand, I don't want to push you. But if the kid is involved I… I can't let this go."

"I'll talk to the kid." Conceded the warrior, he curled up on himself, as if he was trying to hide from the sage's gaze.

"Macaque. I need to know what's going on."

"Can't you just let me handle it?" Quietly asked the warrior, tail shaked by nervous starts.

"I…why don't you want to tell me?" Mumbled the sage, throat clogged by unsaid feelings, unsaid fears. He petted Sock to calm his stuttering breath.

"I just… I’m not weak."

"I know you're not."

"You're gonna blame yourself."

"I'm already doing it." The warrior sighed, he straightened a little, but didn't turn to face him.

"I… The lady bone demon butchered my resurrection. I think you can guess what that means."

"Fuck. I… she really used necromancy. Macaque you… does the kid know?"

"He knows. I think he's searching for a cure or whatever. I didn't think he would put himself in danger I…" Macaque’s head dropped to his knees, shoulders shaking. "Fuck. Why does he do this?"

"Because he cares." Replied the King, he slowly approached the warrior, one hand hovering above him, but never touching him. "I care too." He quietly added.

"But it's hopeless. There is no cure."

"Don't say that-"

"I know so. I searched for a long time. There is no cure. I'm doomed to live the rest of my life as a fucking parasite or die because of her. Fuck. The last few months made me forget that."

"Don't… Listen, I'm going to confront the kid, and then we're going to help you."

"Don't make me hope." Hissed the warrior. "Stop making me hope, I'm tired of being deceived." Sock looked up once she heard the anguish in the ebony monkey's voice, she leaped out of the King lap and quietly approached the warrior, gently pawing at his arm. Macaque turned towards her and petted her, she meowed happily and climbed on his lap. The warrior curled up around her, shoulders shaking a little less.

"Okay… Don't hope then, just let me handle it." Sighed the sage. They were approaching flower fruit mountain, the volcano ring recognizable from afar. The King noticed the clouds brewing above his kingdom and cursed. "I… is it a bad time to tell you that tonight is a storm night ?"

"Are you for real?" Grumbled Macaque.

"Yeah, I think it's gonna be pretty bad. You.. Hm… you're welcome in the cave by the way. If you want to spend the storm here."

"… Yeah, okay, whatever. I'm tired."

They quietly landed in the water curtain cave, the rest of the troop already snuggling there, sleeping away without any worries. Macaque's expression softened when he spotted the troop, his body relaxed, and his hold on Sock weakened a little. Nonetheless he still didn't free her, Sock didn't seem to mind, enjoying being cradled so softly. Sun Wukong jumped out of his cloud and made it disappear with a flick of wrist, he turned towards the warrior, tail twitching nervously behind him, and cleared his throat.

"Hm, you can come inside my shack, if you want?" Macaque looked at him, eyes searching, before heading towards the shack. Sun Wukong repressed the joyous trill wanting to escape his lips and followed after the warrior.

Macaque settled on the couch, Sock on his lap, and busied himself with the lil lady, letting her pawe at his tail as she saw fit. Sun Wukong fled to the kitchen, trying to find something to eat to appease his worry. He took a peach popsicle and ate away his nervosity. His eyes lingered on the others popsicles, he hesitantly took another one and returned to the living room. Sun Wukong sat on the couch and nervously played with the tip of his tail.

"Hm, here, y-you hungry?" The sage handed the popsicle to the warrior, Macaque looked at him for a few seconds, before sighing and accepting the olive branch.

"You didn't do anything wrong." Mumbled the macaque as he ate the popsicle.

"I… Well, I made you uncomfortable."

"You wanted answers." Sighed the warrior. They ate their snacks in silence, both musing over what happened.

"I'm glad you apologized to the kid." Suddenly mumbled the sage.

"It was high time."

"Still, the kid deserved it. I should apologize to him too…"

"Hm, yeah, he doesn't deserve any of our bullshit."

"Yeah, I'm not a very good mentor, am I? He always gets dragged in my messes." Awkwardly chuckled the sage, he regretted saying that the moment the words passed his lips. This wasn't something he wanted to share, but yet his lips seemed strangely loose around the warrior.

"You're… You're not bad. At mentoring I mean." The warrior let his claws pass through Sock's fur, he began to groom her, a nervous tick perhaps. Sock was already used to living with a monkey, so she wasn't bothered by the grooming. Sun Wukong groomed her a lot when he was stressed.

"… You're sure? I think you are a way better mentor than me."

"I'm really not." Replied Macaque. "I mean, yeah, I'm awesome, and you're awkward." The warrior's tail brushed against his in a teasing manner, Sun Wukong chuckled.

"How kind of you."

"I'm the kindest I know. But seriously, you're great. You made mistakes but you're trying."

"Yeah… "Wukong played with his popsicle stick, spinning it between his claws. He bit his lips, not wanting to let the words out, but they passed his lips regardless of his wishes. "Did I ever hurt MK?" Macaque stopped playing with Sock and turned towards him, tail still. Sun Wukong curled on himself, belittling himself for asking that.

"What do you mean?"

"It's… no, it's nothing."

"No, what do you mean?" Sock jumped out of Macaque's laps the second he moved, the warrior scouted closer and Wukong turned away.

"Did I… ever hurt him when I was in my feral state?"

Macaque tensed, something almost unnoticeable, so small it could have flown past him if he hadn't paid attention, but Wukong had keen eyes, and this small shiver from the other was enough to fill him with dread. The thought wasn't new, he knew he had done something to MK, but some part of him was still trying to refute it.

"You… I mean you were attacking everyone so-"

"So I did." Mumbled the sage. "Did I hurt you too?"

"No, you were… really sweet with me."

"Great." Sun Wukong turned towards the warrior and dived in his eyes. "I guess I have one more thing to say sorry for, MK is gonna get a lot of apologies."

"Apologizing is hard. But you can do it." Macaque smiled at him, something awkward, and wavering, but real. "You're the great sage aren't you?"

"You bet I am." Sun I King turned away, unable to keep looking at the other without letting his emotions consume him.

The storm bursted out outside, loud and obnoxious, the sky was torn apart by lightning.

"You're alright? With your ears I mean?"

"Yeah, the dampening spell is still on."

"Cool."

The lights inside of his shack got out, perhaps disturbed by the lightning. Sun Wukong jumped on his feet, startled by the sudden dark.

"I'm getting candles, just wait here."

The sage tried to navigate in the dark, but he hit his feet on his table sides and fell on the floor.

"You're okay?" Asked the warrior.

"Yeah, yeah, just don't move." The sage held his feet, trying to repress the groans bubbling up in his throat. Sock jumped on his chest, because of course she did, and pawed at him. "Sock, wait, I'm suffering there lil sage don't pawe ate me" . The sage held his lil lady, she meowed at him, softly pawing at his hands to free herself. "I swear sometimes I feel like you're trying to kill me."

"You know you have gold vision, right?"

"Fuck… didn't thought of that."

Macaque bursted out laughing, the sage could hear his tail thumping happily on the couch. And even if he couldn't see him, Sun Wukong could easily imagine how he would look. The warrior would laugh unabashedly, fangs glinting, and eyes crooked like moon crescents. He would calm down after a while and try to hide his laugh with his palms, embarrassed by his own loudness, if he had his scarf he would hide in it.

Sun Wukong chuckled along, still holding his lil bud, heart beating just a little bit faster.

This was nice.

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[ahyperactivehero]

I would definitely not turn down a lil DBDA drabble, maybe to do with seances/the Ouija board and the boys being silly and haunting something?

(have you ever played with a ouija board anon? i did as a kid, lol! not saying it was a good idea, but it actually went pretty similar to this little prompt)

XXX

“It’s a harmless little toy, mate,” Charles said, slinging his bag over his shoulders. 

“It is not!” Edwin said, practically stomping his foot against the wooden planks of the old bridge.

“It’s even got a sticker from that toy store down the road,” Charles said, pointing to the label on the box. 

“Spirits!” 

Both Edwin and Charles jumped and stared down at the young girl sitting between them. She looked to be about twelve or thirteen, although it was really anyone’s guess. Her friend sitting across from her, clasping her hands so tightly it looked as if it might be cutting off the blood flow, didn't seem to be much older. 

“She can’t see us, right?” Charles asked. He leaned forward until his face was almost level with hers.

“Charles, her eyes are closed,” Edwin said, rolling his eyes.

“You never know,” Charles said, as if he still didn’t trust him.

“Oh, so you’ll believe that she can see you even with her eyes closed, but not that the Ouiji board they are playing with could be dangerous?” he asked.

Charles sighed and brushed off his knees as he stood to his full height. There was an ever patient look on his face as he gave a placating smile. “I didn’t say that, did I? All I said was that this Ouiji board was a harmless toy.”

Edwin looked at the board. It did seem to be made of a cheap, tacky plastic and cardboard and not the wood and glass he’d come to associate with ‘real’ Ouija boards. But just because this one wasn’t real, didn’t mean that it was a good idea for these girls to keep playing with things like this. 

“A lot of the time it is the intention behind something, not just the materials used,” Edwin said. Did having the correct materials make it much easier? Sure, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t still summon a ghost or demon with the wrong ones.

Charles held his hands up, clearly trying not to fight before he could answer, the other girl spoke.

“I don’t think it’s working,” she said, peeking one eye open. “Did you do it right?”

No, she hadn’t, Edwin knew. But that was a good thing.

The first girl huffed as she tucked her black hair behind her ears. It was spiked and short, almost too short to properly tuck back. “Of course I did.”

Her friend sighed as well and let go over her hands to rub up and down her arms. It was a cool night, and far cooler sitting here on the bridge over the river than it was anywhere else. “Then why didn’t he show up?”

“I don’t know!” the spiky haired girl said, throwing her arms wide. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, obviously trying to compose herself. If she had the Sight she would have immediately been confronted with the two ghosts standing over her. 

Instead, she seemed content to try and call for more.

“Here, let’s just do it again,” she said, and held out her hand for her friend’s. Together they placed their hands on the plastic planchette and both began to chant. 

“One, two Freddy’s coming for you. Three, four, better lock your door,” they chanted, the old horror movie song familiar to even Edwin.

“What does Freddy Kruger have to do with a bridge?” Charles asked as he looked around like the clue might be in the dark somewhere. 

“Why are they using a Oujia board to talk to a fictional character, Charles? They are idiots.”

Charles couldn’t contain his burst of laughter at that. 

“It seems a shame to not let them have a little bit of a scare,” Charles said, wagging his eyebrows at Edwin. “After all, they are playing with something dangerous.”

Edwin pursed his lips together and tried to look disapproving. He quickly failed when Charles nodded his head towards the girls and kneeled down next to them. His hand hovered over theirs, the barest hint of a touch. 

Even from where Edwin was standing he could see the girl’s arm hair stand on end as bumps rose on their skin. The night chill had nothing on an unexpected brush with a ghost.

“Do you feel that?” the spiky haired girl asked, awe and fear in her voice. 

Her friend nodded, her pupils nearly black pin pricks against the whites of her eyes. “Uh huh!”

“Come on, Edwin, it’ll be fun,” Charles said. “Like you said, they shouldn’t be playing with this thing anyways.”

Edwin sighed and sat opposite Charles, the board in the middle of the four of them. “Fine. But nothing too… gory,” he warned.

Charles grinned again as they slowly started to move the planchette around the board. It seemed like a bad idea, but Edwin let Charles lead the way through whatever he wanted to spell.

The girls screamed as they fell back away from the board. Still, the boys kept moving.

“It’s real, oh my God it’s real!” 

Their screams were so high pitched they almost burst Edwin’s ear drums. 

It seemed as if they might not even be paying attention to all of Charles's hard work at spelling things, until the second girl started to mutter under her breath. 

“Oh my God, Harper, look!” she said, pointing to the board. Her arm moved through Edwin like nothing, although she shivered at the sudden loss of heat. 

“What’s it saying! What’s it saying!?” Harper asked, moving closer to the board.

“It’s spelling the rest of the song! Oh my God, does it want to kill us?”

Charles grinned as he led the board towards ‘yes.’

Both girls screamed and Harper rounded the other side to grab her friend's hand and practically pull her to her feet. Together Charles and Edwin moved the planchette to ‘good-bye’ before knocking it over.

Their screams pierced the dark again as they sprinted off, leaving the board behind.

“Oh, look at that,” Charles said. “We’ve got another board!”

Edwin smiled fondly and rolled his eyes. “I think that makes thirty-seven now,” he said.

“Brills,” Charles said and shoved it into his bag. “Now, what were we here for?”

Somewhere in the distance faint whisperings carried on the wind. “The actual serial killer ghost lurking in these woods?” Edwin reminded him.

Charles nodded and grabbed Edwin’s hand as they followed after the girls. It was best to make sure they got out of the woods safely, and if they managed to get in a few more scares in the process who could really blame them.

You shouldn’t play with Ouija boards, after all.

[apomaro-mellow]

A good friend of mine @spectrum-spectre had a plot bunny and I had to write a lil sumthin

If it was anyone else, Steve would've questioned why they were going all the way to New Jersey for an amusement park. But he figured Eddie had his reasons. Maybe he wanted some distance. Or maybe there was some sort of nerd lore with the park or something in the area. Either way....

"It was really nice of you to plan out this whole getaway", Steve said. "And responsible....Who are you and what have you done with my man-child bitch of a boyfriend?"

"Careful, I might revert back to my bitchiness and leave you in this hotel room."

"I'm just saying, I don't see this side of you often. This side that makes plans and takes care of things."

Eddie looked to his Stevie, who was lounging on the mattress of a less-than-luxurious hotel bed. "You'd know if you ever let me be your dungeon master." He kneeled onto the bed, hovering above Steve. "You like when I take care of you?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah."

Eddie leaned in for a little mornin' love when someone knocked on their door.

"Dudes, let's go. You had time to christen your honeymoon suite last night", Argyle said from the other side of the door.

"He's right." Steve had mercy and gave him a quick peck before pushing him off.

Summer of 87 and Eddie had taken it upon himself to plan a short vacation for him, Steve, Jonathan, and Argyle. A no chicks or kids holiday. A few dissenting voices complained, but here they were. No responsibilities other than themselves.

They arrived to the park and Eddie was practically buzzing as they got in the moving line to get in to Action Park. Now that was the boyfriend Steve knew.

"Ohhh, it's this park. Interesting choice dude", Argyle said.

"Why?", Jonathan asked.

"You didn't hear? Like a bunch of people have died here, man."

Steve's eyes slid over to Eddie. He was about to ask if he knew about this but already knew the answer. Knew his boyfriend was already intimately familiar with the morbid details.

"Stevie, before you say anything, this is to celebrate our survival-"

Steve cut him off with just a raised brow. "By coming to a park where people have died? Explain that logic."

"We're just doing the waterpark today, right?", Jonathan clarified. "How bad could it be?"

They got inside and Steve watched in horror as Eddie jumped off a 20 foot cliff with multiple other people and a single, slightly frazzled lifeguard on duty.

"Five jumps is enough", Steve pulled Eddie out of the water, determined to get him somewhere with a bit more supervision.

The four of them went to the wave pool, which Steve had a fine time with. Until he saw Eddie's head go under one too many times and he was reminded of Lover's Lake and dragged him out of that too.

"Steve, you don't need to smother me. I'm not one of your lil chickadees."

"No, you're just gonna be my chicken kabob when you get skewered on a ride."

"You guys are making me hungry", Argyle said.

"One more thing, then lunch?", Eddie suggested.

Eddie led the group over to something that made Steve's heart stop right in its tracks. Even Jonathan had sobered up enough to give it a quizzical look.

"Is that a water slide....with a loop?"

"Nope! Nope, no way. No way you're breaking your back on that thing", Steve started to push Eddie away.

"I'm not gonna break my back", Eddie rolled his eyes.

Argyle nodded sagely. "Ride like that is more likely to take your head off. Or get you stuck."

"I rest my case", Steve said.

Eddie pouted but allowed himself to be pulled along. He'd just have to do something more convincing than puppy dog eyes. Meanwhile, Steve tried to keep Eddie occupied with the other, seemingly less dangerous attractions, trying not to get a heart attack any time something seemed off.

At least it was normal kind of off and not Upside Down type. Eventually, Steve knew what he had to do to get Eddie's mind off that death trap of a ride known as Cannonball Loop.

It took very little persuasion to lead Eddie away from Jonathan and Argyle. It took even less convincing to get him into an Employees Only area. And it took nothing to get him on board once he removed his wet t-shirt.

When they finished, Eddie was properly dazed and distracted. They met back up with the others, one now much tanner than when they'd left, all parked out for the day.

Eddie gave a wistful sigh as they walked out of the park. "I guess I should be happy I have someone who cares soooo much about my wellbeing."

"You're damn right", Steve grinned.

Argyle put an arm around Steve and Jonathan's shoulders on the way to the rental car. "This was a perfectly packaged day, my friends. Sun, water, corndogs, a bit of danger. Somebody got laid."

"Wait, what?", Jonathan choked out.

"That's where they went while you were nappin'", Argyle jerked his head towards Eddie and Steve.

"How can you nap in an amusement park?", Eddie cackled as he unlocked the car.

Jonathan shrugged. "I'm just lucky Argyle put the lotion on me before I conked out."

Eddie started the car before a realization came to him and his head whipped to Steve. "You told Argyle what we were doing?"

"Always let people know your whereabouts", Steve said.

"We gotta bring the kiddos some time", Argyle said.

"Not in this lifetime, Cali", Steve pointed a very stern finger at him. It was hard enough corralling Eddie. He couldn't imagine having to deal with the kids too. Never mind the thrill junkie Max, or the always experimental Dustin. All of them were just different enough to pull in different directions and drive him insane.

"Maybe Disneyland, then", Eddie suggested. "We've got plenty of government hush money left. And there's this one ride-"

"I'm gonna take a page out of Nancy's book and actually do some research before I let you plan the next trip", Steve decided.

[danteragnulf]

dhcmpirs​:

“I’m giving them another minute before I start doing Lil Jon adlibs and ruining the mood for them completely.” He’s kidding, but he is looking to the door to the bathroom in both intrigue and annoyance. Did every single party around these parts have to lead to everyone fucking in corners and bathrooms and no doubt those damn lush gardens outside? He knew it happened, and yet suddenly it felt like it was right in his face at every turn. And then he looks from the bathroom door where it sounds like someone’s just doing Gaga’s runs from the opening of ���Government Hooker’ on the other side to turn his head and see a satyr dragging around a dick bigger than that centaur he’d seen that one time. That one had to be a hallucination. Dante standing so close to him that he could feel the warmth coming off of the wolf also had to be a hallucination. Kay had always thought feeling hot around the collar or whatever was just an expression and yet here he was, tipsy at most and trying not to think too hard about if Dante had made a reference to the bathroom fucking incident or not. So instead he’s desperately trying to make small talk while they’re definitely listening to somebody achieving an orgasm on a seismic scale mere feet from them. “I am, actually. I like getting to hear you play, even if I do have to endure some siren getting railed.” He says that last part a little bit louder, hoping the bathroom tenants might hear. Who were they trying to impress? 

-

“I don’t know, I think it’s kind of hot.” Dante mused as the moan pitched louder in an obvious show following Kay’s remark, he couldn’t blame them if the lycan was in their position then he’d probably be doing the same thing. An arm up on the wall, Dante leaned in a bit because yeah, he’d had a few drinks and while the lycan wasn’t a hoverer he was definitely hovering a bit. It was easy to justify it as straight off concern, but Dante had more or less poured his heart out to his brother and blubbered about... Whatever this was. Anyways, he was staying and Kay’s outfit looked heavy. All that velvet? Couldn’t be him. “You know, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” Dante tugged a bit on the other’s vest, he could hear Kay’s heartbeat, felt the warmth that came off of him. Pleasantly attuned to most of the things going on within the other, “about boundaries and rules and things like that. They’re stupid, right? Maybe I jumped the gun a bit.”

[inkykeiji]

i can take you there but baby you won’t make it back

character: dabi | todoroki touya

notes: stepcest (kind of—ur parents aren’t married yet) with dabi-as-touya x a very naïve and inexperienced reader, normal!AU (no quirks, dabi also has tattoos over his scarred + fully healed skin), university!reader, implied yakuza!dabi, excessive use of the words niichan and good, praise kink, fingering, face fucking, title credit = save that shit by lil peep lmao  uhhhh yeah i hc dabi as a very intelligent and perceptive individual soooo i feel like he’d be a master at reading a person & their emotions and then adapting his manipulation techniques

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), noncon/dubcon, slight somnophilia, emotional manipulation, toxic relationship, size difference, slight degradation, mentions of drug use

words: 7.1k

part 2.1 | part 2.2

synopsis:

“You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, when you lay awake in your bed, you’ll feel ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

        ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          

Your dad’s been dating Rei for a while—nearly a year, now—when things begin to get serious, and he proposes to her.

She accepts, so it’s not exactly a surprise when she suggests you guys move in with her—she’s got more than enough space, she tells you, it’s just her and her son in that big old house—and your dad seems pretty thrilled about it. This was the next step before marriage, after all.

You like Rei well enough, she’s always been nothing but sweet to you, and anyway, your father’s relationship really isn’t any of your business or concern.

It isn’t that you don’t want to move in with her—her house is in a better part of the neighborhood, a standard detached upper-middle class home, and just a short walk from a bus stop that’ll take you directly to university, which you start in a week.

It’s just…You’re a little apprehensive.

You know she has kids. She mentions them in passing every once in a while, but you can’t for the life of you remember their names, or their ages, or how many of them there are. You know they don’t all live with her, that her relationship with her ex-husband is complicated and rocky at best.

But you’re still surprised to hear that only one of them, her eldest, lives with her. She tells you he’s five years older than you are, that he’s a clever, smart boy, going off on a tangent about how disappointed she is that he didn’t go to university, because ‘he would’ve done so well—he could’ve shone so brightly.’ Something about the way she says that, the way her voice sounds almost sad, makes anxiety turn to lead in your stomach. She talks about him as if he’s already a lost cause, but he’s only in his mid-twenties, isn’t he?

You understand the moment you see him. The man standing in front of you as you shift from foot to foot unsurely in the foyer of this unfamiliar house is about as far from what you anticipated as he could possibly be.

He’s tall, skin pale as moonlight, with jet black hair and the most stunning blue eyes you’ve ever seen. But that isn’t what captivates you. It isn’t the lip ring curled around his bottom lip snuggly, and it isn’t the tongue piercing you’re about to find out he’s hiding in his mouth, either.

Every inch of the exposed skin of his arms is covered in intricate, seamlessly flowing tattoos—or, for a moment, you thought it was tattoos, plural. Upon closer inspection, you realize that each arm is actually covered in one giant tattoo, giving a new definition to the term ‘sleeve’. It’s all black ink, not a splash of colour anywhere, depicting an extremely detailed and anatomically correct mechanical arm, complete with what would’ve been joints, ligaments and bones in the form of wires and steel.

The tattoos extend onto the tops of his hands, made to look as if surgical staples are peeling his skin back to reveal the robot beneath. This same tattoo continues up his neck, along his jaw and onto his cheeks, all the way to his bottom lip, spreading across his entire face and disappearing into his hairline and onto his ears. Finally, there’s a small portion of the tattoo underneath his eyes, the surgical staples lining the edges of the face tattoos, too.

It startles you—you’re not necessarily scared, you just…weren’t expecting that. But there’s no denying the rush of breath that involuntarily escapes your lips as your eyes search his face, raking over his body in a brazen way that should make you feel shameful, travelling back up to find him smirking smugly at you, raising an eyebrow as your eyes meet again.

The look in his eyes tells you he knows, knows what you’re thinking about, knows how undeniably attracted you are to him, and scalding heat floods your cheeks.

He chuckles a little, which does nothing but add insult to injury, and sharp anger slices through your chest at the way that you stomach absolutely drops at his gravelly voice. You can’t believe yourself, can’t believe your body is reacting and responding so readily to this man—this stranger.

He introduces himself as Touya, in that rough, deep voice that forces a jolt of electricity to run through your veins. You idly wonder what your name would sound like on his tongue, how it might sound if his voice dropped to a growl, find yourself stuck thinking about this for the rest of the night.

✰          ✰          ✰          

To your disappointment, and as much as you are unabashedly interested in him, you don’t interact much with Touya for your first few weeks in the house—in fact, you barely see him at all.

This only piques your curiosity about him more, finding that you’re unable to tear your eyes from him on the rare occasion that you are in a room together. He catches you staring every single time, and he has the audacity to chuckle to himself and shake his head when his gaze meets yours, your eyes quickly darting away and cheeks burning at his laugh.

You begin gathering little tidbits of information about him, purely sourced from interactions you witness in the house, desperately praying for something that’ll give you an opportunity to start a conversation with him.

Your efforts prove fruitless when, almost a month and a half since you moved in, you’ve still only spoken a handful of words to him. You do learn a bit about him through observing, though.

You discover that he’s a smoker, which really doesn’t come as a shock at all. Marlboro’s are his favourite, and he’s always got a pack in his back pocket or rolled up in the short sleeve of his t-shirt. He must have them imported—Marlboro’s are incredibly rare to find all the way in Japan.

Touya must have a lot of things imported.

You find out that every other Thursday, Touya discreetly stuffs an absurdly large wad of cash—all composed of ten-thousand-yen bills—into his mom’s hands, forcing her fingers to curl around it. She fights him on it, every time, but he’s firm and adamant that she take it. It always ends with Rei giving him a small, watery smile, Touya pressing a kiss against the side of her head and murmuring that he loves her.

After you witness this interaction for the first time, you begin to notice that, while the house looks relatively normal on the outside, it is stuffed full of luxury on the inside. Flat-screen TVs each complete with full entertainment systems, state of the art appliances that are somehow up to date with all of the latest trends (including a smart fridge—absolutely ridiculous), custom made furniture, ornate rugs, a housekeeper that drops by every Sunday…

You have no idea what he does for work, but you think you’ve got at least some sort of idea when you catch him one night, just past 2AM, exiting his room and using a thumb to brush excess white powder off his nose. His eyes catch yours, pupils blown and shining in the low light, and he smiles darkly at you, winking once as he walks away.

You don’t ask—no one ever does.

You don’t ask about the crimson splattered on the toe of his boot, or why he sometimes smells metallic, like copper, the strong scent wafting after him and invading the halls as he stalks leisurely toward the bathroom. You don’t ask why he leaves the house at odd hours in the night, and you definitely don’t ask about the soft clinking and clicking you hear through the thin walls every so often while he cleans his gun at 3AM.

You’re not sure if it’s really any of your business, anyway. So you stay quiet, and continue to wait.

The opportunity finally comes one Wednesday in October, two weeks before Halloween, when you’re in the kitchen after school busy fixing yourself an afternoon snack. Touya comes home uncharacteristically early—you rarely see him before 10PM, so his entrance scares you, and you jump a little.

“Sorry,” he murmurs as he passes by behind you, just an inch too close, just enough so you can feel his body heat radiating off of him.

“It’s fine,” you say quietly, shaking your head a little and trying in vain to stop your hands from trembling as you spread peanut butter across a piece of bread.

You can feel his eyes on you, and it makes you nervous, makes your skin crawl in a way you’ve never felt before. He laughs a little at your struggling, leaning against the counter next to you and crossing his arms over his chest.

“You don’t have to be so nervous around me, y’know,” he says with a smirk, eyes glittering at the way your lips part in surprise, your breath stuttering a little. “I’m your niichan after all, aren’t I?”

You hadn’t even considered using the honorific until he himself uses it.

Your hands freeze, hovering over your plate, and you look over at him slowly. “You…Want me to call you that?”

“You can, if you’d like,” he says smoothly, nonchalantly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It makes no difference to him, he tells you, but when he finally looks back at you, you think you can see it in his eyes—a sharp, small glimmer of…of something. Something that makes your stomach twist in a way you can’t decide if you like or not.

But this is it, you think, this is your opening to finally begin talking to him.

So you do. And the smirk he gives you the first time you address him by the honorific, voice quivering slightly as you ask him where Rei normally keeps the blender, is nothing short of predatory.

“It’s on the top shelf. It’s too high for you, though,” he says, voice so sickly sweet it almost sounds mocking. “Let niichan get it for you,”

It isn’t, but you let him get it for you anyway.

And he knows—knows he’s got you the moment you gasp at the honorific leaving his lips, trying to hide it behind your hand, nodding quickly and squeaking out a thank you.

It starts after that. He begins playing with you; a sick, perverse game of cat and mouse, hunter and hunted, and you play your part perfectly.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, if you said it didn’t send wicked sparks of excitement shooting up your spine and an intense fluttering in your stomach.

And it starts slow. It starts with gentle pet names—honey, sweetheart, princess—and fingertips trailing down your arm as he passes you. It starts with a large hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you—out of the house and into his car, out of the kitchen and into the living room, out of the hallway and into his bedroom—and with little pecks on your lips stolen when no one’s watching, quick kisses that leave you feeling exhilarated despite their chastity.

Suddenly, he’s home a hell of a lot more. He’s sitting too close to you on the couch while you curl up with a textbook, his thigh pressed against you and flesh burning hot through his black jeans. He’s joining the family dinner a few times a week, idly hooking and unhooking his ankle with yours beneath the table while smirking at you from across it.

Suddenly, he’s asking you if you need a ride to school, or if you need someone to pick you up. You don’t, you tell him, the bus is just fine, but he insists. It’s what niichans do, he says. He wants to take care of you, he says.

Who are you to deny him that, really?

✰          ✰          ✰          

The first time you experience Touya angry is about a month after the inciting incident, when he catches you walking home with a few of your university friends.

He had texted you earlier that day, telling you that he—very regretfully, he said—would be unable to pick you up from school this afternoon because ‘something had come up’.

You didn’t question what it was—you knew he’d lie even if you did. So you accepted it obediently, reassured him that it was fine, that you’d find another way home.

You’re pretty sure if you had told him that you didn’t have any extra change on you for the bus suddenly whatever important thing that had ‘come up’ which so desperately needed his attention wouldn’t be so urgent anymore. But you didn’t want to be a bother, or inconvenience him, so you say nothing.

Two friends decide they’ll accompany you on your walk home, so you aren’t lonely, they claim. Normally, the walk from campus to your house is about thirty minutes, but that day it takes you nearly an hour, wasting time goofing around and walking slowly as you talk idly.

Touya’s already pissed that it’s taken you so long to arrive home, that you’ve ignored all of his extremely considerate texts asking if you’re alright, but when he sees you squished between two boys, giggling as the three of you stumble up your driveway—he’s fucking fuming.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asks, voice calm and monotonous, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Your head snaps up—you swear he wasn’t there just a second ago—blood running cold.

His stance is relaxed, arms crossed loosely over his chest, lazily raising an eyebrow as your wide eyes meet his. Technically, the only indication that he’s furious is the blazing blue fire in his eyes, but your friends can read the tension in the air surrounding him, shuffling a little closer to you. This minuscule action does not go unnoticed by Touya, sharp jaw clenching once.

“You had niichan worried,”

You’re frozen a few feet away from the porch, unable to find your voice, to move your legs, to breathe at all.

“I didn’t know you had an older brother,”

Your eyes do not leave Touya’s as you speak, the words hoarse. “Oh, we’re—”

“Yeah,” Touya bites, irritation finally bleeding into his voice. “She does,” his eyes float back to yours. “Come here, princess,”

Your body snaps into action, moving automatically before you can even comprehend it, allowing Touya to tuck you into his side the moment you reach him.

Your hands are shaking, but you have no control over them as your fingers curl in his white t-shirt, clinging to him. To your surprise, the arm around your shoulders hugs you closer in response, thumb caressing you.

“Thanks for making sure she got home safely,” he tosses over his shoulder, managing to make the simple sentence sound like an insult, tone bordering on patronizing, while he turns on his heel, marching you both inside.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you’re rushing to say the moment the front door shuts behind you two, Touya’s arm still wrapped firmly around you.

He looks down at you coldly. “Don’t you dare pull shit like that again,” he tells you, eerily calm voice forcing spikes of icy dread up your spine. He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in as his eyes bore into yours. “You had me worried sick,” he breathes out then, squeezing you again. You’re surprised in the sudden change of tone, feeling your chest swell at the thought of him fretting over you, a small smile gracing your lips.

“I…I did?”

Touya’s eyebrows furrow, as if he’s offended at your questioning, mood morphing in the span of a second. “Of course you fucking did,” he spits like you’re stupid, arm dropping. “Do you ever check your phone?”

“Wh-What?”

Touya rolls his eyes. “Check your phone,” he calls out airily as he begins walking into the kitchen, shaking his head a little, disappointment rolling off him in waves.

Hastily fishing your phone out of your bag, you’re astonished to see eight texts from him and three missed calls. You scroll through the texts quickly, each one making you feel more nauseous than the next. ‘Is everything okay? You should’ve been home by now’; ‘Please answer me, princess, you’re making your niichan nervous’; ‘Where are you? Answer my fucking calls already’. Guilt turns sour in your mouth and you hurry after him.

“I-I really am s-so sorry,” you force the words out, unsure as to why there are suddenly tears stinging your eyes. He isn’t even doing anything—his back is facing you as he nonchalantly begins brewing a pot of coffee.

But the thought of him being upset with you, of losing his approval, sends a sharp pain searing through your chest.

“Are you?” he asks, and although his voice holds no malice in it, it causes your whole body to stutter with a harsh breath.

“Yes,” you whimper out, latching onto his arm and tugging in an attempt to draw his eyes to yours, to see how regretful you are, the remorse written across your face. “I should’ve…That was so careless and inconsiderate of me,”

“It was,” he agrees simply, voice still light, as if he’s discussing something as mundane as the weather. “But you’ll never do it again, right?”

“Right,” you agree readily, breathing out the word before you even realize what you’re agreeing to.

“Tell niichan you’ll never worry him like that again,” he finally looks over at you.

“I-I’ll never worry you like that again, niichan, I pr-promise,”

His eyes hold yours for what feels like eons, before he finally twists his arm out of your grasp, instead wrapping it around you and tugging you against his body. You stay staring up at him, eyes wide and obedient, breath bated as you wait for your next order, so pliant and ready to serve him.

“Good,” he whispers, eyes finally softening, and you feel like you can breathe properly again. His free hand cups your face, thumb running along your lips, then your chin, then your jaw. “You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, you’ll lay awake in your bed, feeling ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

  ✰          ✰          ✰          

He begins to trust you more. You meet his friends, each one terrifying in their own right. Jin is alright, although his brain is fried from drugs, and he talks to and contradicts himself a lot, earning the nickname Twice from Tomura.

Tomura horrifies you to your very core—a tall, lanky man with sunken red eyes and sickly pale skin who looks like he’s one bad day away from death—and Touya tells you very sternly to stay away from him.

A university student not unlike yourself, Keigo is your favourite. Keigo is the most normal, with his wild blonde hair and enticing gold eyes that always look like they’re playfully holding the secrets of the universe just out of your grasp.

Keigo’s brain is always going a hundred miles a minute, although you’d never guess it with his trademark lazy drawl, speaking as if he hasn’t got a care in the world. But he can always keep a conversation going, knows exactly what to say to avoid awkward silences or lulls in the discussion, and you appreciate that. You think he’s so cool—he has so much knowledge about the oddest things, everything and anything, ‘a walking encyclopedia’, Tomura calls it, and it fascinates you to no end.

It’s the speed, Touya tells you one night while you’re laying on the couch, your body on top of his, the pads of his fingers dragging down your back in rhythmic strokes. Speed is Keigo’s drug of choice, you find out. Speed is the reason why Keigo knows as much as he does.

“Sometimes he doesn’t sleep for days,” Touya says. “That’s how he has all the time to memorize everything he knows—though that big overactive brain of his plays a part in it, too,”

The thought inexplicably makes your heart sink in your chest, and you don’t say anything else. If Touya notices your shift in mood, he doesn’t mention it. You idly wonder what Touya’s drug of choice is, but you’re too scared of the answer to ask.

  ✰          ✰          ✰          

It’s only a few nights later when you wake with a violent jolt, breathing laboured as you absentmindedly press your palm to your chest, trying in vain to calm your racing heart.

A nightmare.

You sit in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of your own harsh breaths echoing off the walls and debating what to do next. A minute later, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, wincing when your bare feet touch the cold hardwood, and pad down the hallway.

You try to trick yourself into believing that you aren’t using this purely as an excuse to spend the night with him. It really was so scary, you reason with yourself, it really has made you all shaken up…

Who are you kidding? You didn’t even attempt to go back to sleep.

You’ve been in his room plenty of times now—sitting daintily on his bed as he introduces you to new music, new movies, new books. Stuff that reminds him of you, he says, stuff that he thought you might be interested in. You’re grateful for it; there are so many things you’ve learned in the short time you’ve known him.

That isn’t all, though. There’s no denying the warmth that spreads through your body, that tiny excited flutter in your chest, when he calls your name and interlaces your fingers, leading you toward his room and telling you he’s got something to show you.

Yes, you’ve been in his room plenty of times now. But this is the first time you spend the night in his bed.

He’s still up, soft golden light leaking from under his closed bedroom door. Your hand quivers a little as you lift it to rap your knuckles against the wood. He appears in the doorway a moment later, leaning against the frame in a black t-shirt that looks like it’s a size or two too small for him, riding up to reveal a teasing sliver of milky skin, tips of his hipbones jutting out from the waistband of his plaid pajama pants.

“Princess? What is it?”

You didn’t realize you were staring, and you jump a little at his gravelly voice.

“Oh. I, um—Well, I just…had a nightmare a-and I can’t sleep,”

You can barely look him in the eyes as you say it, your cheeks burning. You both know it’s a lie.

But he plays along.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, drawing you into his arms, into his room, into his bed.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs as he turns on his side to face you, propping his head up with a hand. “Poor thing. Was it a bad one?”

Your mouth feels like its been stuffed with cotton, rendering you incapable of speech, tongue dry and sluggish. You nod in response, heat seeping into your cheeks again at just how loudly your heart is thumping while you roll onto your side. There’s only a few inches of space between your bodies now, his hot breath fanning across your face as he speaks again.

“Do you want niichan to help you forget about it?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, and you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes searching his. Your thighs squeeze together at the way his voice has dropped an octave, low and husky, familiar heat pooling in the depths of your belly. He waits patiently, lifting a hand to caress your cheek, then runs his fingertips down your bare arm, goosebumps following.

Finally, you nod. You think you see the corners of his lips quirk up into the slightest hint of a smirk, but you blink, and it’s gone.

“Here,” he whispers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. Hand cupping your jaw, he tilts your face up and slots his mouth against yours.

You’ve kissed before, of course—in his bed, in yours, on the living room couch, on the kitchen counter with his hips shoved between your thighs—but this…this feels different.

These are kisses with intent, with purpose, with a goal in mind. These are kisses that keep you distracted—slow, soft, messy with saliva—as his hand slips down your body and between your thighs.

Your gasp breaks the kiss, wide eyes blinking up at him then fluttering shut as he brushes a knuckle against your clit. He hushes you, nimble fingers spreading your folds before he drags them up your slit, huffing out a laugh at how wet you already are.

“Were you thinking about something naughty before?” he gasps mockingly, sliding the pads of his fingers back down as he speaks.

His hand withdraws from your shorts and he orders you to lift your hips, tugging the waistband down your thighs. You squirm a little, forcing them further down your legs until you free yourself of them completely, eyes gazing up at him again, awaiting your next command.

Legs part dutifully as his hand travels back down to the apex of your thighs, pushing a finger into your soaking pussy.

It’s slow at first, thrusting leisurely with his middle finger a few times and loosening you up a little before adding his ring finger. Sapphire eyes watch his motions, captivated by how your eager little cunt sucks his fingers in selfishly.

“Look at that, huh?” he breathes, looking down at you. “Such a pretty little pussy you’ve got,”

You open your bleary eyes to peer at yourself, mesmerized by the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, glistening in the dim light of his bedroom. He curls his fingers and you inhale sharply, hips twitching toward his palm.

“Oh?” he chuckles darkly, knuckles nudging the spot again. “Did niichan find something, baby?”

You don’t know, you’re not sure, you try to tell him, but all you can seem to manage is pathetic little whines while you nod your head.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he’s asking as the pads of his fingers tap against that spot, your entire body jolting.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper out, a little breathlessly. “But it’s never felt like this,”

“Aw, baby,” he coos, and it’s so condescending. “Then you weren’t doing it right, sweetheart,”

He quickens his pace, chuckles at the way you try to desperately fuck yourself on his fingers at such an awkward angle.

“Poor little thing, can’t even get herself off properly,” he tsks. “You need your niichan to do it for you, don’t you?”

Soft whines spill from your throat as you nod eagerly, your stomach coiling tightly.

“One day,” he breathes, curling his fingers with a vengeance this time, your hips rolling up off the mattress. “When we have the time, I’ll teach you how to make yourself feel so good,”  

He’s talking too much. You want to tell him this, tell him to shut the hell up, but every time you try to speak he presses the heel of his palm to your clit and grinds against it, effectively scattering all of your thoughts, soft mewls of niichan the only sound escaping your lips.

Can’t deny his voice is fucking hot though, a form of foreplay all on its own.

And he knows this, can read you like a goddamn book, especially when he’s got his fingers two knuckles deep inside of you. He can feel it, he tells you. You don’t even need to speak; he can feel your thoughts when his voice drops an octave and your cute little hole flutters, when he chuckles and your pussy clenches around his fingers—a slut for his voice, aren’t you?

“Pretty baby, you can’t do anything but nod dumbly, can you? Been fucked stupid by my fingers alone, huh?”

Your head barely moves, lost all control of your body by this point, only able to whimper in response.

“Gonna come all over my fingers, pretty girl?” the knuckle of his thumb begins grazing your clit in quick strokes. “C’mon, make a mess for niichan,”

And it’s pathetic, how quickly your body obeys. Your pussy squeezes once, twice, three times and you’re gushing all over his fingers, juices collecting in his palm, running down his wrist. You’re embarrassed—you’ve never cum that much before, have you?

Breathing still ragged, you nuzzle into his sheets, partially hiding your face from him. Nothing could hide the involuntary grin that forms on your lips, though. Arms snake under your boneless body, tugging a bit.

“Oh no, baby, we aren’t done yet,” Touya’s saying while he hoists you up, letting you lean heavily against him.

Head tilting in confusion, your glazed eyes find his. “Wh-What?”

He looks down at his lap and your gaze follows, a tiny whimper slipping past your lips at the bulge straining against his pants. “Doesn’t niichan deserve a nice reward for helping you forget that scary dream?”

Eyes darting back to his, you nod slowly, whispering out, “Yes. But—But…” But you’re hesitant; you’ve never done anything like this before. Shaking hands reach for the waistband of his pants, beginning to pull them down but freezing when the head of his cock peeks out.

Touya sighs. “Come on, you wanna be a good girl for niichan, don’t you?”

Of course. Of courses you do.

Then he wants you to touch him, he says. He’ll help you; he promises.

“But you gotta get it wet first,”

You ask how, and he laughs at you. “With your tongue, stupid,” he tells you.

He instructs you to kneel on the floor and you comply immediately, trembling legs folding beneath your body as you situate yourself between his knees. He inches forward on the bed a little, shuffling himself to the edge and caging you between his thighs. Bringing his cock close to your mouth, he taps the head against your closed lips.

They part instantly, obediently, his eyes flashing with something sinister as you take the head into your mouth and suck hesitantly, big eyes staring up at him waiting for approval.

He curses, his hips twitching ever so slightly, skin stretched taut over bony knuckles as a hand forms a fist in the sheets. Starting with kitten licks at first, the tip of your tongue barely touches him, tracing veins, then begins to gain more confidence as he groans a little, telling you what to you, that you’re doing good, so good for him.

Watching him through thick lashes, you have the audacity to look bashful as your tongue laves around the shaft, drenching it in saliva. A hand tangles in your hair and yanks, pulling you off his cock when he decides it’s sufficiently wet enough. Long fingers encircle your wrist, bringing your hand to form a fist around him.

“Like this,” he says, jerking your hand up and down.

You’re terrible at it, movements awkward and uncoordinated, but in that moment he doesn’t really care. He’s irritated a little, wondering out loud how anyone can be bad at handjobs while a large hand wraps around yours and forces you to speed up. Bad? Your heart sinks at the small three letter word, a hard lump forming in your throat, looking as though you may start crying.

But he cums quickly after that, ropes of searing hot white painting your cheeks and face. You watch him the entire time, panting a little, lips parted slightly and your tongue darts out to lick them, tasting him.

He laughs at your bitter reaction, and it’s such a patronizing sound.

“Don’t worry,” he says, collecting the cum off your face and forcing his fingers into your mouth. “Someday I’ll stuff your throat full of it.”

  ✰          ✰          ✰          

You can no longer mention needing—no, wanting—anything around him anymore, because within the next few days it’s sitting pretty and perfect on your bed, propped up against your lace trimmed pillows.

He’s so good to you; you should be grateful you have such a generous niichan, one who eats you out and spoils you with gifts. You’re so spoiled.

And he tells you this, in the dead of night when you wake to find him shoving his cock into you, snarling a little at your soft whines of protest.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns. Just be a good girl and take his cock. He does so much for you, can’t you be good for him?

Yes, yes, you want to be good for him, you want to be the best for him.

By this point you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night with his head between your thighs, prepping you to take him.

“Stay sleeping, baby,” he’ll tell you, words whispered into your hair as his cockhead nudges against your hole.

As if you could ever stay sleeping when only a few minutes later he’s pounding you into oblivion, large hand clasped over your mouth so tightly his blunt nails are digging into your cheek, so hard that it’s yanking your head back, neck beginning to ache.

He tells you to be quiet, “You don’t want anyone to hear, do you? Then we’d have to stop, and you don’t want that, right, sweetheart?”

You don’t, you whimper. Of course you don’t—you want whatever he wants, you want to be his perfect little baby, you want to be told how good you take his cock, the praise mumbled against your skin in a low, strained voice right before he fills you with cum.

  ✰          ✰          ✰          

He disappears for a few days near the end of December. You have no idea where, Touya answering your curious texts with playful quips at first before he grows tired of it and tells you to stop fucking asking.

But eventually, he returns.

The front door slams shut and your body flinches with a jolt of excitement. Adrenaline spikes your blood when you hear his heavy boots colliding with the hardwood, getting louder, louder, louder…

He passes right by you, not glancing at you at all. Moments later, the sound of water hitting the tiled shower wall echoes down the hallway.

And you wait. Patiently, you wait, like the good little girl you are, not daring to move a muscle. Eventually he re-emerges, hair still damp, a few strands sticking to his neck.

With a groan, he collapses on the couch next to you, flopping his head into your lap and gazing up at you with glazed, blown sapphire eyes.

“You’re high,” you say softly, not accusatory, just an observation. He giggles a little.

“So what if I am?”

“What did you take?”

“Oh,” he gasps mockingly. “Oh no, baby, I can’t tell you that,”

Why? The question is burning on the tip of your tongue, and you can tell that he’s anticipating that to be your next response, but you bite down on your bottom lip, holding it in. You know his answer already, can practically hear his patronizing voice—Because good baby sisters aren’t supposed to know about stuff like this.

“Can I try some?” you ask instead.

All of the mirth fades from his eyes in an instant, and he moves in a flash despite his inebriated state, so quick you can barely tell what’s happening. His large hand wraps around your bicep in a bruising grasp, pulling you towards him as he sits up, his face an inch away from yours.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he spits, cobalt eyes blazing and voice rumbling against your chest. “And if I so much as catch wind that you’re using, have a mere feeling that you’ve tried it—even just once—I’ll slaughter you and the fucker you got it from. Do you understand me?”

Surprised tears spring into your eyes and you nod jerkily, body beginning to tremble as your breath gets caught in your throat. You want to tell him that you didn’t mean it, honest, you promise!; that you were just kidding around, you swear!, but you can’t, voice mangling itself with the hitched little breaths on the back of your tongue.

He growls at your silence, his grip around your arm tightening and you cry out, terrified that he might actually crush the bone with his bare hand.

“Say, yes Touya, I understand,”

“Y-Yes Touya, I understand,” you manage to stutter out, voice returning only at the command of a direct order, tears spilling over and rolling down your cheeks in pairs. His eyes search your face for a moment, his features contorted in fury, before he sneers at you, squeezing your arm once then roughly letting go, shoving you away from him.

You fall backward against the arm of the couch, heart thumping so vigorously you’re sure he can hear it. He groans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, exasperated.

“Fuck,” he sighs, eyes opening to glare at the ceiling. “You’ve ruined my high,”

You stare at him, breath coming out in uneven huffs, clinging to the couch.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, terrified to move lest you upset him more.

He’s silent for a moment, still staring up, until he lolls his head to the side, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. A small smirk spreads across his face.

“C’mere,” he says, nodding his head a little in indication.

“Wh-What?”

“C’mere,” he repeats. “Come make it up to me,”

Your body’s moving before you’ve given it permission to, crawling into his lap obediently, thighs on either side of his hips. His smirk widens, and you love it—you love how much control he has over you without even trying, you love the way a quiet whimper slips through your lips as his large hands begin kneading your flesh, running up your legs and grabbing your ass.

Lips trail up the column of your neck, and you tilt your head back, a silent plea for more. You can feel the way his lips curl into a grin against your skin, nipping at it a second later.

“So, how you gonna make it up to me? Huh?” he shifts his hips under you, pressing his hard cock into your clothed core. You whine a little, grinding against him.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” you breathe out while sharp teeth mar your collarbone.

“The hell you waiting for? Show me,”

You begin sliding down his body and he pushes on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees between his spread thighs. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, gaping pupils outlined by a thin ring of blue.

Holding his gaze, you lean forward with your pretty little tongue hanging out and begin licking along the straining bulge, tracing it slowly, the denim rough against your sensitive muscle. You relent though, lapping at his clothed cock in slow, long strokes, and his jeans are just thin enough for you to feel him pulse in response.

A giggle bubbles up past your lips, muffled by the denim, already beginning to feel heady as you pull simple reactions from him. Your mouth forms a cute little ‘o’ and you suck on him the best you can through his jeans, drooling all over his lap and soaking through the material.

The hand in your hair tightens into a fist, yanking hard and pulling your mouth away. “Stop fucking teasing,” he warns, a hint of something ominous in his voice.

You obey, because you always obey, tiny fingers working to quickly unbuckle his belt, pop the button, yank down the zipper. He aids you, lifting his hips and allowing you to tug his jeans down his thighs enough for his cock to spring out.

His own hand wraps around the shaft, you pausing mid-action as you reach for it.

“Open,” he demands, your dutiful lips parting immediately, letting him push his cock into the warm, wet cavern.

He sets a brutal, punishing pace from the start, refusing to give you a single moment to adjust. His other hand fists in your hair, forcing you to stay still as he rams his cock down your throat.

Reflexive tears burn your eyes, blurring your vision. You blink quickly to clear them, desperate to watch him, to catalogue all of his micro-expressions and the sound of his voice as he grunts out your name, to burn it into your mind, etch it into your very soul.

Touya’s head falls back against the couch, Adams apple bobbling with his rough whimpers, long neck and sharp collarbone on full display. If your mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, you’d love to lick up his smooth skin, to trace the dips of his collarbone with your tongue and sign your name in brilliant splotches of blue and purple.

You’re gagging around his cock now, starting to feel lightheaded and struggling to inhale enough oxygen. The ache in your jaw is beginning to spread, but you ignore it, stretching your mouth open wider, to take more, to be good for him, to make him proud. It’s worth it for the hoarse, throaty moans you’re pulling from him, to hear your name shuddered out, followed by a breathy, “Fuck,”

He forces hot cum down your throat a moment later, and you choke on it, sputtering around his cock, throat spasming as it tries to force the foreign object out. He won’t let it, though. He holds your head in place, nose pressed against his pubic bone, and you can do nothing but take it, like a good little girl, like he tells you to.

But it’s all worth it. It’s all worth it, to hear his broken whines like that, to have him look down at you and pull your hair and tell you you’re good, so good for him.

And you’re sobbing by the end of it, gasping for air the moment he lets go of you, wheezing violently as your head collapses against his thigh.

“Did I—” you cough, voice raspy from having your throat fucked raw, “—Did I make it up to you, niichan?” you gaze up at him, eyelashes spiky with residual water. You’re the perfect picture of obedience, strands of hair stuck to your face where your salty tears have dried and swollen lips gleaming with saliva as you watch him with glittering eyes, waiting desperately for his praise.

He looks down at you, eyes devious and diabolical, chest heaving a little. “Of course you did,” he tells you, corners of his lips tugging up into a sharp smirk as you melt into him. “You always do, don’t you?”

[kaijurakunsobs]

Karl coming back to you and the baby after a successful REVOLUTION!! Cause he deserves happiness (and maybe ethans there because I want rosemary and lil maginito baby to be friends

I like how you think anon

this one is gonna be fun and LONG

Let's start by pretending Ethan wasn't just a human chia pet, but the mold made him mutate like the Lords, he has no powers but his body is just...sturdier

that being said...

after Miranda's announcement of finding the perfect vessel and presenting Rose to the Lords, you could tell Heisenberg was extremely close to start his rebellion in that moment, what stopped him? that your child is waiting for the return of their parents and you still have no way out of everything goes wrong

it feels grotesque to receive a piece of such an innocent baby in a flask

through the creep vine you both learn about Ethan being in the Village, the father of the stolen child, you can see the expression in Karl's face shift into one of hope, he knows something you don't

when Winters is brought to the church you both play your role of sadistic monsters, giving a "show" for Donna and Moreau, but you have made sure there are useful things "left behind" by previous participants of your little game

with bated breaths, you follow his progress, feeling more and more hope with each Lord he takes down

Heisenberg cheers loudly when Dimitrescu goes down, lifting you off the ground and howling harder when only Moreau remains

He knows that, Ethan won't take it well when he arrives at the factory, so you offer to be the one to welcome him, reminding Karl to keep his cool and be straight with his answers and go to the point

NO THREATENING THE GUESS WITH THROWING HIM TO THE STURM

Ethan is, indeed, shaken up when he comes into the factory and the first thing he sees is you, he saw you at the church, why are you waiting for him?

"I must say, under other circumstances, it would have been...nice to meet you, but there's no time to lose, come with me, please"

he's hesitant, which is understandable, but he follows, a hand always hovering over his gun and eyes following your every move

when you reach Karl's center of command, you are careful with asking to sit and please listen to what you two have to say

"That boulder punching guy and his people are here, right Ethan?" Karl has his back to the other man "You see...me and Y/N...we need your help"

"My help!? after everything, each and everyone single one of you psychos put through?!"

But Karl is not listening, he starts to tell his story...your story, how Miranda took you both and used you like she's trying to use Rose, but you two were defective, useless, he wants revenge and is willing to do anything to get it

There's desperation in his voice but Winters seems unmoved by it, later you will admit that what you did was manipulative but as long as it works

Both men see you leave and come back with your child in arms, the kid is a bit older than Rose, the gray hair and factions that resemble yours is all that Ethan needs to know, Heisenberg as a child

they are vastly different but, he's like Ethan, he just wants to put his family in a safe place, so he accepts with the promise of "I'll kill you the moment you try to betray me"

Involving and convincing Chris is a lot harder, the man is already pissed at Ethan and now he's besties with 2 of Miranda's underlings? but time is running out and hes desperate for help, and maybe, it could actually work

Chris gives Heisenberg coordinates of where there's gonna be someone waiting for you and the kid, and that you have to be quick in reaching the point or they will leave with out you

of course, you panic! Karl is staying behind and you have to go? you want to kick Chris in the face and make him change his mind, he already has the soldats, why does he need Karl too?!

it's he who has to almost drag you away towards where the Duke is, he knows he has a better chance of getting you there, Miranda won't spare a glance at the merchant

a hefty payment and promises of coming back to you later, you are delivered safely to the team, Karl's trench coat draped over your shoulders and a sack filled with some of your most precious items. feeling like that's the last time you will see him again.

from the helicopter's window, you see with horror how the factory gets destroyed, gasping when Karl's mechanical form appears from the rubble and his army moving to where Miranda must be

the wait is grueling, painful, the sounds of gunfire and explosions make you jump, your crying child screams for their father, but this time, hes not there to calm the not cries and make them laugh

it's past dawn when the bigger explosion shakes the helicopter and when you cry the hardest, believing hes dead, that he die protecting you both.

the entire ride back to the BSAA is spent in silence, your child cried themselves to sleep and you are...just there...heartbroken, unable to shed another tear

a group of paramedics comes to you when you arrive at the new area, asking you questions and trying to check you for any wounds, but you don't answer or hear or care

from far away you see him, limping and using Ethan as a crutch, and then you are running, harder than you have ever done in your life, a strong hold in your baby

Karl looks up to see you and he can't help but smile and cry, open arms waiting for you and catching you, not carrying for his wounds, hes just there and his family is safe...and the 3 of you are free

neither of you put up a fight when the BSAA informs you that you will be under surveillance or that wherever you go you are expected to stay close to their offices, you laugh wholeheartedly when Karl asks "But we can go anywhere...you won't keep us locked away?"

Mia is the one who insists that both families must be close to each other, and you accept

it feels like a dream when Karl comes back and bitches about something that happened in the new lab, he may not be allowed to use corpses but hes allowed to tinker around with his creations and help to contain all bioweapons

you see your child grow and little Rose comes often to play, both children laugh and run around, not knowing what life they could have had

they whisper secrets and share what they have, Mia lights up whenever your kid gives her drawings, Karl melts down a bit when Rosemary calls him "uncle Heis"

and you see him change, he no longer frowns or gets irritated, he giggles or tells jokes, you have caught him develop a true fascination in watching videos and play video games

for once in so long...everything is finally fine

[nagipops]

KONOHA ELEVEN IN A ZOOM CLASS!

FEATURING: naruto, sakura, shikamaru, ino, choji, hinata, kiba, shino, neji, rock lee, and tenten

WARNINGS: mentions of food

NARUTO

definitely has forgotten that he was unmuted multiple times

or his camera was accidentally turned on

you could just see him sprawled on his bed with a bowl of instant ramen on his lap and a blanket wrapped around himself

EARRAPE SLURPS!! rip headphone users.

sometimes he notices that his camera’s turned on and you can see him freak out and scramble to turn it off

but he accidentally unmutes himself too and so you just hear panicked yelling

his device topples to the floor with a loud crash and he screams so loud istg

the next thing you see is naruto’s face hovering over the camera in fear just before his camera turns off and he’s muted again

the teacher is so confused?? naruto should i call an ambulance

but when he’s not eating in class, he’s sleeping in class

too busy sleeping to leave the zoom at the end of class so he’s always the last one left in the meeting besides the teacher

always asks sakura what happened during the zoom and she is FED UP

SAKURA

enters the waiting room 15 minutes before class is actually supposed to begin

spends the next 15 minutes rearranging her work area, making sure she’s prepared for the day

sits properly at her desk with her hair smoothed down and her face positioned perfectly in frame

if no one else has their camera on, she’s the only one with it on

seriously, she ALWAYS HAS IT ON

and she never leaves the screen somehow

diligently takes notes, uses the “raise hand” feature every two minutes to ask a question

sometimes it can get a bit annoying, even for the teacher

but she almost always gets perfect marks

acts like in angel in class, but after class... no promises, naruto!

SHIKAMARU

this man can barely stay awake during missions, so during a zoom? HECK NAH

shikamaru is literally me,, half asleep during lessons but somehow gets amazing grades

everyone’s either pissed at or envious of him (especially naruto)

obviously does not have his camera on

and rarely ever unmutes

uses the chat feature to answer the teacher’s questions but this man is basically asleep so its so incoherent

“shikamaru, what is a hyperbole?”

in chat: “a hyeprbole is a exsaggerayed phras,e”

teacher definitely thinks he’s cheating on tests

INO

either a) daydreaming about boys or b) checking herself out in the zoom camera OR c) secretly fuming at sakura’s know-it-all behavior

the two girls definitely compete to see who can raise their virtual hand first

"ahem, ahem- sensei? could i answer this question?"

her voice gets all sickly sweet and sakura HATES IT

the two of them totally got caught insulting each other in the private chat

100% the type of student to rewrite her notes after classes with various markers and colored pens and pretty fonts and patterns and whatnot

loves doodling flowers in her notebook during boring lessons!

CHOJI

another strong contender for the Loudest Student award!

not on purpose though, he just forgets that space bar = unmute, and plays some jumping game in another tab (like the no internet dino game!)

also,, rip headphone users

c r o n c h munch munch munch

are you kidding this man's chews are loud enough in person, but with a HEADSET?! hoo boy.

has conked out several times during class

just imagine the name Choji Akimichi with a profile picture of a bag of chips light up with the green box around it with a thunk

the teacher and class is so confused

but then you hear mumbles of "barbeque... chips... barbeque..."

and you realize that the man fell asleep onto his keyboard

he sleeps through the rest of class

HINATA

shy bb has never ONCE turned on her camera

the only time she's ever unmuted was to say "here" during attendance on the first day of school

if the teacher ever takes attendance again, she just uses the raise hand feature

what if naruto-kun thinks my voice is ugly? what if i accidentally turn on my camera? what if the teacher thinks i'm not paying attention? what if-

poor baby is too busy worrying about showing herself on zoom to actually pay attention

actually gets good grades though and her classmates wonder if she’s even there

her zoom pfp is definitely just a purple google “H”

KIBA

has the CUTEST zoom pfp hands down

it’s a selfie of him grinning cheerily with baby akamaru

100% has his camera on the whole time to show off his pup

he loves seeing everyone’s faces on screen melt and aww at the lil big doggo

sometimes akamaru just walks in front of the camera and blocks kiba from view and you just see a massive wall of white fur on screen LMAO

even though kiba’s muted, you can see him and akamaru bickering about who knows what

or even play fighting,, these two get into full on BRAWLS during class

just imagine akamaru shoves kiba into his desk and his camera crashes to the ground overturned so you see the ceiling and the occasional dog tail wagging in the corner

seriously, can the teacher ever catch a break with this class?

the answer is no.

SHINO

his zoom pfp is just a tick.

a singular tick

totally answers questions in chat with proper capitalization and punctuation

shikamaru’s improper answers tick him off

“A hyperbole is an expression that is greatly exaggerated. They are used in order to create emphasis.”

has never unmuted in his life either

he’s so unfazed by everything that goes down in class that it’s funny

if anything the slightest bit RELATED to bugs comes up during class, in 0.00238 seconds this man has an entire essay about them posted in chat, almost like he had it copied and READY to paste

everyone's definitely shocked that there’s actually a human listening behind a tick profile picture

NEJI

a very diligent note taker

seriously, this man writes like a printer; perfectly even handwriting that looks like a font, a million words per minute

everyone asks him for his notes after the zoom because they’re so neat (especially naruto, to neji’s dismay)

he gets excellent grades since he’s so organized and focused

just wishes the zoom would be over so he can work alone in peace

really hates unmuting so he often gives one-word answers in the chat

“Yes” “47” “Present” “Goodbye”

has used a zoom reaction ONCE in his life and he has never wanted to crawl into a hole and perish more

it was a complete accident,, mans was just trying to open the chat to type in his answer, but in a cruel twist of fate he clicked on the 😂 reaction

and he just sat there for ten excruciating seconds in complete and utter shock and shame for ten excruciating seconds as he prayed for it to disappear

tenten would never let him live that down

ROCK LEE

Zoom Reaction Enthusiast

😂😮👍🎉❤️ 24/7

naruto accidentally unmutes himself? 😮

choji falls asleep on his keyboard? 😂

neji answers something correctly? 👍

tenten received the highest score in class? 🎉

akamaru appears on screen? ❤️

unmutes whenever he needs to, but he thinks the little emoticons are so silly and cute

otherwise, he is EXTRA FOCUSED and EXTREMELY DETERMINED to learn all of the things

he’s the first to unmute whenever the teacher asks if the class can see the screen share, hear them correctly, etc.

never takes his eyes off the screen!! he could be missing out on important information

I FEEL LIKE,, i feel like he would totally keep his camera off when he’s muted but whenever he unmutes he would also turn his camera on

so when he says a quick “yes!” his camera turns on but before his camera can adjust properly to the light he mutes and turns his camera back off so his face is just super dark for a split second LMAOOO

tell me im wrong

TENTEN

exasperated by this entire class

thinks her and neji are the only sane ones in the class and it’s true

wants to tell sakura and ino to stop competing and just focus on learning, since they’re the only other girls in the class besides hinata

plus she’s just fed up with all the lazy boys

takes great pride in passing every assignment, test, or exam with flying colors

teachers pet, but the quieter type who stays after every zoom and sends lots of emails regarding assignments and grades and whatnot (unlike sakura and ino who rub it in the teacher’s face)

doesn’t like helping other people besides neji, girl’s got a soft spot for him since they have a mutual respect for each other

but if you’re a handsome prince, maybe she’ll help you out!

if you enjoyed this post, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) feel free to request here, and make sure to read the rules first! have a lovely day everyone <3

[basaltbutch]

i remember when i was itty bitty baby i would have occasional dreams of flying and each time it was like. a treasured memory. i can STILL CLEARLY REMEMBER a couple of flight dreams i had...

and then nowadays im using, "do i have wings and/or the ability to fly" as a way to tell if im dreaming or not.

hmmm,,, perhaps when art fight is over, i shall draw my dreamself,,,,

[muffindaddystyles]

KISMETS (Part 2)

Harry Styles x fem!reader.

Slow burn, platonic love and bunch of affection.

Fluff! Smut! Smut!

Frenemies to lovers, dad!Harry, Bestfriend!Harry.

Author's Note: The concept's kinda weird but if you've watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Phoebe Buffay carrying child for someone. You've got it my pal!

MASTERLIST PART ONE PART 3

"Oh pet . . you're jealous innit?" He swipes the tip of his finger over the waffle picking the puff of cream and swallowing it whole, "'M not! Why'd I be?" She squeals kicking at his boots.

"Always told me y'had a candy crush at Harold." He smirks mischievously. Spitting truth. She smacks his bicep with a wide open mouth.

Or

Y/N's carrying Harry's babies and is trying not be angry at him for pulling her into all of this with him.

//

Red's everywhere. It makes her pout. Everyone have someone to celebrate the day but she's the only one giving careless ears to Niall who's sitting opposite from her in the crispy lilac heart booth, "Mean ye' fought again with him?" He stirs the mango bobas in his drink wiggling his brows at her to fill him with some tea. She gasps full of drama and surprises, "What d'ya mean 'again? D'ya think 'm this crackhead that rips people in two for no-reason?" She whispers the last part when a waitress passed by them.

"No. Pet what 'm sayin' is --- you're too, feisty with Harry." He chuckles leaning to meet her betrayed gaze, "Did he bribe you with new golf stick? You've switched sides." She juts her bottom lip wet from pink marmalade drink and startles in her spot when Niall cackled ever so loud at her silliness.

"I just tol' him to go through Chessie marathon somewhere else than my home." Harry was at her flat as always. She was making red velvet strawberry flavoured muffins for the moment ( promised not to give it to Harry — "even if he'll beg") and then she fulfilled her promise when she saw him going through his pictures together with Chessie. The jealous little Y/N jumped out from her polite skin and she just tinsy bit mocked him, "I'd never look back at the person who'd have left me and my children. . ." That broke a mighty bit argument between the two idiots. How they're gonna take care of two babies when they themselves need a person to put them away from eachother?

"Oh pet . . you're jealous innit?" He swipes the tip of his finger over the waffle picking the puff of cream and swallowing it whole, "'M not! Why'd I be?" She squeals kicking at his boots.

"Always told me y'had a candy crush at Harold." He smirks mischievously. Spitting truth. She smacks his bicep with a wide open mouth. Sighing he grabs Y/N's hand knocking some sense into mama bear gently and making her nod with the each advice, "'s valentine's day 'course he misses her. His wounds are fresh they need ointment babe -- You've always been so good with him, what's the matter now?"

She circles her fingers round eachother. Sucking her lip harshly and not meeting Niall's intense stare, "Turns me mad that 'cos of one person we're here now." She mumbles caressing the belly button protruding from the flimsy fabric of her oversized hoodie.

"It's the fate, pet. Always tol' me how much you liked kids." She shakes her head in denial. "Not in this situation where 'm lost and doesn't know how it'll work out — " He cuts her off with concern.

"Talked to Harry bout it?" When she again denies he asks, "What you're gonna do about it then?"

"Dunno. Share?" She's new to all of this. What did she actually mean was that they could do it like how divorce parents do it, maybe? Doesn't know how Harry wants to handle the situation just leading a blind eye with him. Hasn't even considered getting ready for the life that'll come along with them.

"They're babies not a packet of crisps, Y/N!." He burst into giggles and she huffs slumping against the foggy window, "Pain in arse you're." She scoffs that pout still intact the whole time while Niall keeps on giggling finding it too funny.

. . .

Walking from the elevator to her flat's door seems like hiking a mountain for her and cherry ontop that the stares she gets from her neighbours is full of judgments. It makes her want to hide underneath her blankets and never pop her head out. Her brows coming together in wonder at the sight of small wood basket at her doorsteps.

"Oh my god don't tell me someone left a baby at my doorsteps, Hello!!!??" She spins here and there but finds no-one but empty hallways when a feeble sound coming from inside it almost made her tumble on her bum. The last thing she wants is not another baby. With a grunty noise she ducks down to lift the basket supporting it at her belly and unlocking the door while trying to squint inside it.

When she throws the lid away a fuzzy little grey creature with big mossy eyes was pawing in air needy for attention, a red choker with heart in centre around her lil neck. It almost brought her to tears. Blame her being extremely emotional these days.

"Awww. Hi!" She fawns picking it up from armpits inspecting the miracle kitten that's here outta no where. A crumpled note laying in the basket with a bunch of colourful disoriented flowers.

"'M sorry fo' throwin' a tantrum and leavin' all fussy. This's oreo. I want her to grow along my kids! Also forgive mee plssssss?"

She giggles throwing her head back snuggling oreo against her throat as she meowed adorably sweet, "Daddy's such a daft ehh?" She says in between breaths petting the new addition to her loved ones.

The first thing she does is call him and he picks on the very ring as if anticipating for it, "Come back home you fool." His smile was infectious as he taps his feet in his car a lil over joyed at the thought.

"So generous." Running upstairs as he used to in oast with anticipation to spill the tea of his day to her in any hour of the day. The door was already open, them standing at the either boundary line of flat. His first priority's always to shower his babies in evermost affection. Falls to his knees smushing his face to her belly quenching outta a ribs aching laugh from her as he caress his cheeks against the soft side of her womb murmuring things that's a secret between him and his babies.

"Hey Angels!" He greets them patching a loving tight kiss atop her belly button that tickles her softly, stands up and meets her teary gaze from laughing with much serenity it knocks breath from her, "Hi mama angel." His whisper fuses against her skin while kissing her cheek.

"Hi. ." She inhales in his woodish vanilla scent. Preventing from melting into his arms she pulls him back from shoulders grinning at him, "Let's ruin valentines watchin' Anne Hathaway's romcom." He tuts instead leading her with him to the sofa.

"Can't be better than that –— let me pop in some popcorns real quick."

. . .

The yellow carpeted floor's littered with candy wrappers, packets of half folded crisps, peach sodas and an empty bowl of popcorns. Oreo snoozing in her basket. They're on their fourth romcom. Her legs in his lap. His's on coffee table. He chuckles everytime she takes almost three minutes to be in a comfortable position, ushering her to sit up so he could put cushions under her.

"Are you craving nama chocolates?" She eyes him nipping at her blanket trying to snuggle closer to him. He runs his thumb at her shoulder blade in soothing circles peering down at her, "'m not pregnant. ye're moppet. havin' a sweet tooth?" When she nods sheepishly he shakes his head quickly hoping on his feet.

"Don't be shy --- dunno where ye' got this giddiness from, 'm your bestie. Gotta tell me yeah? Lemme grab me jacket." He grabs her from wrists helping her up and goes to her wardrobe to get her fist gloves, beanie and warm slippers.

When hears her huffing and puffing grunty-ly his head perks up with brows furrowed, "What's it babe?" He pads towards her and when she turns for him to have a look the zip of her jacket bursts open all the way to end revealing her bump.

She pouts sadly, "Nothin' fits me anymore." He just smiles adorning the same puppy look in his eyes as her's to light up the tension.

"I'll buy ye' new. Those cute maternity clothes, ehh?" Shimmies down the clothing from her shoulders, "oi you don't have to!" She retorts and he bobs his head taking his own puffer jacket off to wrap it round her small body.

"Yes I do." He mumbles zipping her all the way up warm and squishy in his jacket three sizes larger than her. Pulls her hair out and cups the nape of her neck with his calloused soft palm bringing her closer to feather a delicate kiss to her temple, ". . .deserves more than just clothes — deserves the world always gonna be thankful to ye, pet." She gulps the cobweb of silence down her throat fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

"What you'll wear? 'S cold." He gives her an elfin grin flaring a baby pink knitted cardigan he sneaked from her wardrobe, "Harry!" She squeals with a giggle, "You're gonna look like grann Matlinda."

"Ehm. 'etter not forget to send her a picture when 'm matchin' with her." He quips snapping his fingers.

. . .

They walk over the glittery layer of slushie snow and Harry walks infront of her two steps at a time capturing pictures of her as she prowls carefully trying to move the hood away from blocking her vision, "Ye'r walkin' like a penguin -- cutie!" He giggles with each echo of flash.

"Look who's saying an otter himself!" She mimics him and he blushes under the mellowness of street lamp. They're champs at pulling eachother's legs.

"It's soooooo slippery." She complains wiggling her fingers from under the sleeve, "Grab me hand 'n don't leave it kay?" He smiles like advising a three year old who's afraid of crowds in a market. His grip warm and safe for her.

. . .

"Aish. gimme gimme!" She gets all jumpy on her toes when Harry comes out of the shop with a box of chocolates and two sticks. "'Ey greedy pup." He chuckles booping her button nose opening the silky lid of box revealing the velvety delcious chocolates. He picks the stick up taking a piece of chocolate with it and hovering it over her little mouth. Scrunching his nose at how adorable she gets the moment she chews it.

"Hmm. 'S so soft!" She gulps wetting her cold lip getting all butterfly feeling when she catches him gazing down at her as if she hung the moon and saturns. Raises her brow for an inquiry if he's okay tugging him closer with a gentle clutch to his cardigan.

Their surroundings turning into ice crystals of blur carelessness, the noises of glimmering lights into lulls of whisper and their bodies cocooning into snuggly blanket when Harry's fingertips fluttered tenderly against her cheeks glueing her at the spot. Leans in to press his lips softly to her plush sweet ones in a heartwarming caring kiss that flooded her veins with warmth and made her brain mushy unable to think.

"Yours are softer lil penguin." He murmurs stroking the corner of her mouth and smirks when she squeaks a thank you in return.

"Such a cutie." He cooes squishing her blushed cheeks and kissing each of them with loud wet noise till she pushed him away wiping his wetness with a pout. "'M highly offended pet ya never used to wipe me kisses away."

She shuts him up by stuffing a chocolate in his mouth. Walking back home with his arms wrapped around her protectively as he comes up with silly jokes whole way.

. . .

Everything reminds her of him. That fuzz of kitten. The empty box of chocolate. Couldn't even focus on the work she's doing on her laptop. It's just that gooey feeling never left ---- now it has gotten stronger with it's mushk when Harry kissed her under that beautiful sky of wintery lilacs. If he's playing with her feelings he better not cause she'll break him in two in that case.

He was out shopping clothes for her when she texted him if he'll like to eat roasted chicken she made for lunch. The mere thought of him caring for her brings her to tears because before him nobody was there except only him that knew her from the depths of her heart.

"You look pretty. . ." She finds typing hard while laughing this loud as Harry sent her mirror pictures of him trying the maternity clothes himself that he's supposed to buy for her, "Thought a visual representation will be good idea ;)" He shrugs typing back with a grin standing bottom naked in the changing room getting a rolling eye emoji in return.

She yawns putting her phone aside when Harry got busy into his hunt for nice warm clothes for her. Something wasn't fine today. She's been changing sides for an hour now and she couldn't sleep. Her shoulders twitching with each blink of eye and when she finally slips into a light conscious sleep a bone rattling pain shoots through her whole damn body. She jolts from the state of haze and tries to sit up when another zap of pain makes her feel limbless. A feeble grunt of helping cry fizzes out of her when she feels a cramp at the bottom of her spine.

In her panicked state she fumbles for her phone dialing the first emergency number doesn't give him a chance to speak before she's yelling into receiver out of anxiousness, "Harry somethin' not right! — 'm m havin' these contractions —--" He's been out dining with Niall and shoots from his seat the minute her worried voice reached his ear.

"It's okay, lovie. yeah? 'M comin' take deep breaths how we practiced —-- I'll be there in a mo'." He assures her in his softest most pacific rasp but she shakes her head vigorously tears brimming in her sleepy eyes. Oreo tries to comfort her by sitting in her lap and rubbing her crown against her tummy.

"They aren't supposed to come this early . . . fo' fucks sake haven't even started my third trimester!" Harry doesn't know what to do except of consoling her and fidgeting around as Niall drives the car with same expressions of anxiousness and panic as Harry.

"Oh . . It's gone." She frowns in confusion able to sit now and it takes a little of burden away from Harry. He listens to the rustling going on her side jumping on his bum almost screaming into phone, "Stay where you're don' move!"

"Oh my god. They're back I'm not ready for this . . I'm not ready for this Harry." She cries and Harry even leaves Niall behind squeezing into the elevator fingers crossed at his back.

"'M here. Call our midwife can ye' do that fo' me, puppy?" She sniffs nodding to herself. Calling their assisted midwife with shaky fingers and tries to breath looking up at the ceiling.

In the meantime Harry's barging through the door pacing towards her in hurries steps. His face pale that if he has seen a ghost. She tries to saturate the distance between them knowing at this moment how much she wants him in her life.

He sits her back carefully crouches down and wipes her tears away, "'m so scared . ." She whispers squeezing his biceps and her phone's still ringing atop the sheets, "Don't be baby. Ye' have me — 'm not leavin' yer side."

He massages the dimples of her spine and runs warm hands at her sides to calm her down when their midwife picks up their call, "Hi. Is everything okay?"

"No Y/N's havin' these light contractions 'n 's not even the time of her labour." There's a pause from her side and Y/N bolts a worried glance at Harry in return he cradles her cheek to assure her.

"Oh . . that's nothin' to worry bout Mr. Styles. Those're some mild braxton hicks she might have mistaken with labour contractions." They both takes a sigh of relief but the little tick of pain keeps on coming and subsiding.

"They start at the beginning of third trimester, Y/N are you still getting 'em?" She asks her and Y/N clears her throat tugging the sheet beside her.

"Yes but less painful. Is that okay though?"

"Completely okay. Harry rest her against the headboard and push her knees upto her chest they'll be gone in a snap." He nods at her instructions helping Y/N lean against the headboard of bed gently and scooting between her thighs to do as she told.

"Better?" He whispers glancing up at her while wrapping his hands around her bended calves and pushing it slowly against her front, the move relaxing her pelvic muscles. Her head lulls at her shoulders from the effect and she hums from throat making Harry choke on his own spit.

He dares not to drift his gaze from her rigid features which are loosing it's tightness seconds after. Their breaths erratic from the humidity of sexual tension in the room when Y/N gets back to normal diverting her all attention to Harry who has his head tucked between her fleshy thighs. A blush creeping at her flushed cheeks and Harry gives her a flustered chuckle kissing the top of her knee to answer back Miss. Dori who's been asking how's Y/N.

"Stay hydrated and don't forget to take your vitamins." Saying this she ends the call. Y/N takes a huge sigh of relief spreading her legs back and Harry squeezes her ankles, "When was the last time you had a glass water?"

"Two hours ago." He rolls his eyes. "Supposed to be drinkin' every hour . . dehydration's s' unhealthy fo' you pet." He leaves the bed meandering through her wardrobe taking out a bag with Oreo in his armpit.

"What're you doing?" She gasps with wide eyes looking back at Niall who's still standing at the doorframe. God. It's so embarrassing he had to watch all of that. Now, he'll never not stop teasing her about it.

"Packin' 'cos ye're stayin' with me. No protests." Like she was going to. She loves to stay at his house. His guest room's mattress is such a royalty to sleep at.

. . .

When he tucks her under the layers of blanket she decides it's still not warm enough and grabs at his wrist when he was about to leave, "Can we cuddle please?" His lips quirks up with happiness and he crawls to the empty side of bed still letting her hold onto him. Slipping beside her to canoodle her cosily against his front nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck with "mhmpm." sounds of exhaustion.

"Anytime." Her eyelids slip shutting from the comfort he brings along with him, "ye' okay now?" His lips leaves it's sparkle at her skin as he mumbles spooning her from behind and spreads his palm wide atop her belly protectively. She nods cuddling into his bicep kissing the inside of his elbow and slips into darkness just with the song of his breath.

"Good night Angel."

. . .

She wakes up to the ruckus going outside and gurgling stomach from hunger. Pinches the blanket around her head and waddles outside yawning her way. Harry making brekkie in the kitchen, a grinder running, and waffles sizzling as he himself is moving around like Remy the Rat in ratatouille. His muscles stretching out with each haste motion and it made her tummy stir. She's been trying not be horny but it proves to be the hardest task when he's always around being that charming and alluring.

"Pet!" He grins spinning with a VR camera in his hand that makes her giggle, "What you're doing?" She giggles trying to hike up the stool.

"Recording the days with our babies until it's labour." Immediately he's at her side helping her sit up putting the camera at the counter and Y/N waves at it adorably voice low and sleepy, "Hi babies it's me your mommy." It catches Harry off guard. His heart shaped mouth baubles into awed expression as he blinks the shock away from his vision looking down at her.

"What happened?" She asks him in concern but he shakes his head pecking her hair and handing her the camera to go back to prepare brekkie — moreso to recover from the happy surprise of her acceptance or he might scream into these four walls.

He's got a heart of gold. Pure from the selfish intentions and full of love. He thinks he's an utter dimwit for neglecting his feelings for his own fucking bestfriend and finding love into places that were never meant for him. Now, he can't think of someone else as the mother of his children except her.

He smiles wet-ly to himself. Waterline stinging from the sweet epiphany that they're really gonna be parents. Together. That she's his person. Who never left his side. Fulfilled his dream of becoming of a dad when his own girlfriend backed out cowardly. What did he do to get her written in his fate?

"Would we get to eat in this hour of day Chef?" She quips elbow perched on the counter and chin resting in her palm. We. It makes his insides melt into squish of adoration and love for her, "Sorry! I know ye're hungry." He pouts apologetically putting the plates and a glass of smoothie infront of her tucking a napkin into her crew neck.

"I don't need that, pet!!" She laughs squeezing his thigh to refrain from falling -- for the fact she's the most clumsy person Harry knows, "look cute 's just all." He giggles back pulling his bottom lip that she has done a great job of flustering him this early in the morning — gonna be like that the whole darn day with the her words swimming in his mind hi babies it's me your mommy ——

"Hmm. It's so yummy!" She gives him a thumbs up leaning down to sponge a kiss to his cheek and his dimple milks against her lips from the shyness. He scrunches his nose as a cover up from blushieness else he might burst into lil confetti, "yeah?" His irirses twinkles impishly as he gave her an eskimo kiss.

They're so domestically in love. It's cute. Does thingies without knowing they've rocketed past the intense levels of intimacy.

When she whines at the end refusing to drink the green smoothie it's where he went all stern and daddy-ish with her. Pulling her into his lap, holding her wrists with his nimble finger and placing the rim of the glass at her lips encouraging her to drink, "I might puke." She tells him in a warning.

"Okay after drinking this." He declares not caring if she wrenches at him quiping with a pinch of brows petting her back.

"You're sucha meanie bro!" Bestfriend shit. More like lovers shit.

. . .

Blank staring is useless as fuck and mind tiring even if it's done sitting in the comfiest corner of sofa to get a watch of some piece of furniture, toys and clothes that litreally just belongs to little humans that are resting in her womb. There's this nice lady that Harry gave away all of this things to because she's having her third child and couldn't be able to afford this stuff for her baby, at the moment she's here to shift it.

"You don't have to --- I don't care. It's just some stuff you guys bought together." She had told him before he sat on the decision and once he makes up his mind nobody can make him act otherwise.

"Nope. Bought things fo' me babies by the choice of a person who wasn't even their mother in the first place, never deserved to be —-- would never be. We'll do everything from scratch . . ." His words held venom and hatred for her unlike the usual sadness and betrayal they carried weeks ago as he wrapped his forearm around her collarbones flushing her closer to his chest swaying in the living lounge, ". . . remember the plushies nan Matlinda gave ye' on ya eighteenth? Thinking it was yer thirteenth birthday? Found them from under me bed last night. Will throw 'em in the laundry and the descion will be on yours if ye' want them fo' yourself or your babies." She nods giggling and he joins her.

"'Course that'd be s' cute. My kids playin' with plushies that were once mine!" She clapped her hands atop her chest in sheer excitement.

At the moment, he flops onto sofa beside her with a dramatic huff after bidding the lady a warm good bye. Squeezing Y/N ankles as she's laying on her side. A pillow under her thigh for the ease purpose head on the other cushion, "Watching's the hardest work innit toots?" He grins impishly and she bobs her head with hooded eyes.

Rolling her shoulder to pop some joints to show her tiredness she's good at acting made him scoot closer to her immediately, "Actually yes — " Gets cut off with Harry getting really caring about her in instant.

"Lemme give ya good rub." His calloused palms starts it gentle pressure from the heels of her feet tricking up her calves and she hums sweetly with her face smushed into cushion. He does it for a minute, thumbing at her soles and popping her toes making her giggle lazily.

Her breaths turns warmer against the fabric when he glides his touch up her soft thighs running a trembling shiver into her blood and the coaxation from the daily tiredness plus the effect of him on her almost made her whine. Their breaths hitches at the same time his pinky brushes at the curve of her bossom peeking from underneath her pyjama shorts.

It makes her clench her thighs from the burn coiling in her tummy and it's embarrassing because he's doing nothing but giving her a rub. When the second time the pads of his supple fingers paints imaginaries at her skin she wiggles her cute ass and moans with an alluring stretch of throat when Harry slapped her arse playfully.

"'S good?" He rasps palming balmily her bossom ass hands gliding dangerously low to where she's pulsating with desire, "don't tease . ." She gives out a kitten-ish whine griping the corner of cushion to exhert the tension in her muscles. With a single glance to her deshilved state he slides his hand between her fleshy thighs pressing his lanky fingers against the wet splotch of her arousal from the only approximty of him.

"Jeez pet. ye'r absolute soakin'." He whispers circling her clit in tight circles from over her pyjamas and she ruts her hips in his hand for more. He hovers his fingers round the hem of her shorts testing the waters and if she really wants it ---- although she proves it with a groan indicating him to get rid of the material.

"Such a pretty bum 's a shame I got to touch it now." He traces the imprint of his redness on her skin making her hiss into her elbow and he pulls her over his lap; slowly feathering his touch between her pink slick folds down to her hole making her clinch around his digits trying to swallow them.

"S' tight babe. How long someone's been between these beautiful legs?" His words don't carry any taunt. It's just a genuine question. She gulps trying to escape the haze — couldn't when he's gliding his fingers non-stop in her wetness with dirty noises, "dunno . . don't remember!" She squeaks when he slides them inside her with ease from slickness caging a grunty moan that's threatening to slip from his lungs.

"It's been that long then . . ." He drawls out and Y/N's shook that she hasn't heard him in that tone ever before or maybe she's too floaty. This Harry intimidates her in a sweet way, makes her want to be blanketed under his warm weight always, to depend on him and be with him always. Makes her want to kiss him till the colours fade out and blossom back again with the witnesses of their love.

"Harry . ." She moans fogy-ly when he adds two more letting her stickiness drip down his thighs, "Yes baby." He giggles bashfully sneaking his arm under her shoulders to kiss her cheek.

"Gonna cum." She cries out softly nipping at his skin and he pushes his fingers deep till knuckles in her cunt pounding inside her with a pleasuring pressure, "Didn't stop ya." His little bubble kisses trails to the crook of her neck biting down to glitter hues of his affection for her.

"Oh my!" Her eyes popshut and thighs smack crampies his hand cumming on his fingers. Making a mess down his wrists, his trousers and the hem of his shirt. She purrs cheeks smashed near his thick thigh into velvet when he rubs her back to soothe her heated body down as that of a kitten, "Ye purrs are puttin' oreo to shame, moppet." He pushes her up. Straddling her each leg around his torso letting her melt onto him.

"S' warm." He mumbles against her throat pecking where the paths of her veins leads him to. Grabs her chin and nuzzles his nose to the underbelly of her jaw saturating her closer to his chest. She hiccups a breath when his swelling bulge nudges her already sensitive pussy making her wet again; she blames her hormones.

"Can you fuck me, please?" She gives him pleading eyes swiveling her hips back and forth against his thick length, "Don't 've to ask pretty girl." He kisses her mouth. It's not like their first kiss. Their first held innocence and sccachirness. This one's rather filthy, full of sucking, bites and spit. He splits his thumb in her hair cupping her cheeks kissing her passionately and winding his arm around her waist to caress her belly.

When she throws her shirt away he puffs out unbelievably taking in her to memorize each velvteen of her skin, "Fuck you're so beautiful moppet." It splashes blush at her features and his eyes litreally twinkles at the sight of her being like this. When his eyes halt at the swell of her titts he exhales through his nostrils a grin worming up at the little rainbow patterned bra she's wearing.

"Cutie." He kisses her again. It's like he can never stop kissing her ever. Her plump candy lips make it impossible. She skids his trousers down wrapping her hand around his girth squeezing him to quench out a throaty grunt from him. Stroking his cock with his pre-come and arches her back when his weepy head brushes against her cunt.

He helps her to take his cock being ever so carefull with her since she's pregnant but Y/N wants otherwise. She's insatiable. Could bite him whole at the time.

"Use me baby ---- make yourself cum with my cock. Wanted it yeah? C'mon now fuck me pretty girl. Take it all in. Yeah . . . Jus' like that." He grits stretching her to max and brings her neck to snuggle in to his chest when she was about to fall back because of her limbs giving out due to the ecastasy. She spurts out a giggle putting her hands between them to recoup herself and moves with his assistance on her ass.

"It's hard." She whines walls fluttering around his dick making him moan, "what me prick?" He smirks batting his eyelashes to get through the haze.

"Such a rotten joke." She rolls her eyes riding him with faster pace now and it's turning them all sweaty and hot, "mhmp. good girl takin' me cock s' well." His hands wanders above her tummy fondling with her nipples and takes it in his mouth while giving the same attention to other one with his thumb pulling it and tweaking it gently not to harm her, "don't like my jokes but you love my prick --- want to make ye' feel amazin' with it."

His balls thwacking against her bum and she leverages herself with his shoulders crying out in his ear when he hit a spot inside her she could never with her own fingers — she narrows her knees for more closeness and he tucks loose errands of her hair away kissing her temple with closed eyes.

"Tired?" His wet lips teases her earlobe and when she nods he gropes her ass thrusting up inside her, "It feels more good when daddy does it . . doesn't it?" He pounds roughly with a sharp angle of his pelvis and keeps on fucking her till she's crying his name.

She's a puddling. His words only made her float into her own head space where it's golden streaks in the amidst of violet clouds.

His own groans getting hoarse when she pulses around his cock milking and pushing his head fat out it makes him choke onto his spit, "cum for me --- inside me want it s' bad." She whispers woving fingers with his's and pressing it into sofa still grinding down at him whole body jolting from the sensitivity.

He does cum inside her. Filling her to brim with his seed it oozes out making soppy sounds when he pumps it back with lazy strokes to extinguish the last sparkle of fire that was crackling in their insides.

Remains like that. Tangled and dishelved. Listening to eachother's silence. He didn't even got a chance to pull out of her when his phone startled them beside her making her cramp hard around him and his head falls on the headboard with a grunt.

"Fuck." He squints back and pretends to eat the apple of her cheeks with roar like noises tickling her side making her stomach squeeze with laughs when his phone rings for another time and she ushers him to pick it.

His expressions remains stoic. Lips thinned into a hardline as he listens to the person on the other side. She's familiar with it. The feminine seductive voice she can never unhear --- it pangs her heart with an unbearable amount of pain and clogs her windpipes.

Dunno from where she found the need to ask this she did with a second thought from the anxiousness whirling in her mind the second he ends the call, "Are you gonna leave me now?" Tears of hurt without her knowing are already spilling down the valley of her chest.

Harry stares her. But, she could see nothing in them due to blurness from the pulversive of a single call.

[a-dorin]

mishap

pairing: din djarin x reader 

word count: 1.402k

warnings: angst, cursing, spoilers, spoilers, spoilers for chapter fifteen (u have been warned !!!) a lil bit of crying, some yelling, slight canon divergence from chapter fifteen 

a/n: hey y’all. i don’t really have much to say about this one other than to avoid it because it contains spoilers from chapter fifteen. this is a very self-indulgent blurb/fic too ahah. i hope you guys like it! :’))

“you know,” an elbow gently digs into your rib-cage, “he’s quite the looker. you got yourself a good one.”

you pause, nearly tripping over your own two feet, “what are you talking about?”

migs mayfield arches a brow, “oh shit. i -- uh, uhm.”

“you were the one who retrieved the coordinates, right?” 

mayfield hesitates, bringing a hand to the back of his neck, “yeah, yeah. i was the one who retrieved the coordinates. your uh -- lover boy was the one who stood guard.”

your gaze darts over to the mandalorian only a few steps ahead, the beskar gleaming as rays of light filtered in through the leaves, “mayfield, is there something you’re not telling me?”

a twig snaps under his foot, causing him to stiffen, “no, no. the mission was a success. we managed to get what we needed, then we got out.”

“right,” you affirm, “was there a reason why you complimented di-- mando, then?”

“oh you know,” mayfield shrugs, “you know what they say. there’s always beauty beneath the helmet. he probably has some luscious locks of golden--”

“no one fucking says that,” you snort, readjusting the blaster situated in your belt, “listen, if there’s something you’re not telling me, i won’t hesitate to tell them to take your ass right back to garbage planet.”

“garbage planet,” mayfield scoffs, “yeah, i’m jumping for joy to return to that shit show.”

clenching your jaw, you can’t help but notice din as he strides towards the two of you, fennec and cara in tow. fennec is quiet, lips etched together in a solemn frown while cara carries a smug smirk on her face. almost as if she was about to deal out a brutal blow to the prisoner now turned comrade. 

boba fett’s ship was stationed nearly a few hundred feet away, hatch opened, ready for the next step of the plan. as much as you wanted to focus on retrieving grogu, as much as you needed to maintain a level-head, you couldn’t. 

there was something about the way mayfield seemed so sincere only minutes ago that had your mind reeling, anxiety, confusion, and hurt bubbling up. 

did din really break his own creed? 

fennec shoulders past the huddle, sharing a brief moment of eye contact with you. her brow furrowed with concern, but she kept moving, sauntering over to the ship. 

“i wanted to thank you for your help,” din’s tone is nearly monotone, yet, you can sense an inflection of gratitude. 

“it wasn’t a problem,” mayfield dips his head. 

“i never realized that you were such a good shot,” cara chuckles.

“oh, you saw that?” mayfield’s eyes widen, lips curling into a cheeky grin, “what happened back there was from a lot of pent up stuff. besides, don’t you have to arrest me or something? you guys got a kid to save.”

“not any kid,” cara cuts in, motioning her head towards din, “his kid.”

“well no shit officer,” mayfield rolls his eyes, droning on, “good luck, and i mean that.”

“you know,” cara swivels on her heel, folding her arms across her chest, “it’s a real shame that the prisoner died in that explosion.”

in an instant, you notice the way mayfield’s entire demeanor shifts. his lips part, the smile broadening, “w-what? what are you talking about?”

“yeah,” din adds, placing a hand on mayfield’s shoulder, “what a shame.”

mayfield gives the three of you once last look of gratitude, cara clearing her throat, “so, what’s our next move?”

din exhales, “we move forward.”

within minutes, boba is punching in coordinates to your next destination. however, something about the aura that filled the air told you that you were not traveling for grogu quite yet. the air was still, almost stagnant, nowhere near the static, adrenaline-inducing battle preparation you were used to. the tiny ship was quiet, the hum of the engine white noise in your ears. 

it feel as if there were just a few more loose ends to tie up. a few more pit-stops. 

the quiet before the storm. 

din was in close proximity, one hand on your thigh, the other resting on his helmet. fennec sat in the cockpit with boba, filling him in on the run-in while cara joined them, providing you and din with a little bit of privacy. 

which, you already knew what happened. there was almost nothing to say. 

“you’re quiet.”

his voice, so calm and cool, brings you to reality, away from the thoughts tormenting your mind. 

“it’s been a long day,” the words were nearly silent, barely a mumble. 

din coughs, hand squeezing your thigh, “you don’t have to lie to me.”

“mayfield said something,” it takes everything in you to keep your eyes off him, to keep staring at the metallic floor, “it just rubbed me the wrong way.”

“what did he say?”

you bite your lip, formulating some sort of way to say it. to say what you want to say without sounding selfish. 

“um,” you inhale sharply, “he said you were good-looking. and that i was lucky to have a man like you.”

you stiffen as din chuckles. yet, it’s strained, almost forced, “did you believe it?”

“i don’t think he’s a liar.”

“he’s a--”

“was there a mishap back there? did something happen that no one else is supposed to be aware of?” 

tears brim your lids, shame burning through you. maker, were you so selfish for this. for accusing din of abandoning a creed he’d known his whole life. the hand slides off your thigh, settling on his own lap. 

silence overcomes the space, eerie and unforgiving.

there’s a clink of beskar as din leans his head back, his posture so painfully still. 

“there was a mishap. things weren’t going as planned. i had to--”

“you don’t have to continue,” you shake your head, “i knew it the moment mayfield let it slip. i can’t imagine how awful that was.”

“i’m surprised you’re taking it so well,” his voice is hushed, “you’ve been begging me for months to see one glimpse of my face. just one. yet, it was a necessary cause. it was so that they could get a scan of my face, for the coordinates.”

“so the imperials know what you look like too?” a single tear rolls down your cheek, splattering on the fabric of your trousers. 

“i’m not sure about that one.” 

“i see,” you whisper, shifting away from din. 

“hey,” his hand hovers above your knee, “you can tell me how frustrated you are about this. i know it’s a sensitive subject between us. if anything, i wish it was you in there with me. but it was just the cards we were dealt, okay? there was nothing i could do.”

lifting your head, eyes connect with the inky black visor, “were you scared?”

“terrified.”

there was something about his voice, how it seemed so broken and vulnerable. this was a man donned in one of the most resilient, most strong material of the galaxy, who was stripped away of his familiarity, a simple, three-word creed that had shaped his entire existence. 

your heart shatters at the mere thought of how utterly terrified din must had been, how he flinched when the imperials spoke to him. how his eyes probably darted between mayfield and the nearest exit, desperate and guilty.

a way out. a way of the gut-wrenching feeling that was threatening to consume him whole. 

yet, din sacrificed those mere minutes of vulnerability in order to save his child. grogu, the tiny creature who he had grown an immense attachment to. 

and maker, how you loved din immensely for making that sacrifice. 

leaning forward you press your forward, nearly flinching at the cool sensation, “i’m sorry.”

a hand cups the back of your skull, “you don’t have to be sorry.”

“i just can’t even imagine how surreal it all felt to show your face in front of--”

“it’s over now,” he murmurs, “it was nothing compared to the fear that consumed me when i left you with grogu at those rocks. i thought they took you too. i was petrified, cyar’ika, absolutely petrified.”

“they still have him, ya know,” your lashes flutter as you let out a shaky breath, “we still have a long road ahead of us, din.”

“i know, and as long as i have you by my side, i know i can do anything.”

[ninyard]

more stefan/andrew au? the last one was fucking amazing

(following on from pt 2 kinda following canon a lil bit but imagining their relationship panning out earlier than it did in the series? Fab)

Part 1 / part 2

-

“Andrew?” Neil was woken up by Seth’s pissed-off, tired moan. “Get the fuck out of here, you fuckin’ freak.” Neil heard the rustling of covers and Andrew’s footsteps coming into the room. “Yo, hey, are you deaf?!” It’d been a couple days since the incident in Columbia, and Andrew and Neil hadn’t really spoken since then. Coach had tried to get them to make up when Neil came back to his apartment, but his attempts futile. They’d only had a short conversation before Andrew got bored and left. All Neil got from Andrew’s lot since then was hostility and cold shoulders. Now, in the middle of the night, Andrew was breaking into the room of the three people he actively seemed to hate the most. Neil pretended to sleep, until he felt weight on the rungs of the ladder on his bed, and hands on the back of his T-shirt. Andrew practically pulled him off the bed, immediately waking him up from any bit of sleep he had left in him.

“Car. Ten minutes.” Andrew didn’t lower his voice for Neil’s half-asleep roommates. “I don’t like waiting.”

“I don’t care.” Neil retorted back in a hushed voice. “Leave me alone and let me sleep.” Andrew got real close to Neil’s face. The dim light of the moon outside the window showed Andrew unsmiling face. He was presumably sober, and Andrew sober was a much scarier sight than him being medicated and violent.

“Ten minutes.” He repeated again, matching Neil’s volume, hazel eyes burning a hole through Neil’s natural blue. Andrew put a finger to his lips and switched to German. “This is the only chance you’ll get.”

Neil had almost forgotten he’d spoken to Andrew in German in Coach’s apartment. He was startled at the sudden language change, and obliged when Andrew finally left the room. He got dressed underneath his covers as best he could, and decided against putting in his contacts, before jumping down off the top bunk.

“Bring that monster around here one more time and you’re moving out.” Seth groaned, but fully meant what he said. He turned around to face the wall and through the muffle of a pillow, Neil heard him say, “Now fuck off.” Matt, sleeping like a rock, was snoring on the other side of the room, totally unphased and undisturbed by Andrew’s swift entrance and exit.

Andrew was alone at his car when Neil pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands in a desperate attempt to stay warm, the door of the dorm building shutting behind him. It was freezing outside, and Neil hadn’t realised it was literally the middle of the night until he saw a clock in the hallway reading an early 3:54am. The wind blew leaves across the parking lot with a whistle and a rustle, the dry fall leaves swirling around like tiny twisters on the tarmac. The campus was silent, on the night of a weekday, so Neil didn’t expect anyone to be out. Yet here Andrew was, leaning on the bonnet of his car with a cigarette between his lips, smoke quickly disappearing in the biting wind.

“You never answered my question on our little night out.” He spoke through the smoke, as Neil approached closer. “We’re going for a drive.”

“Do you ever sleep?” Neil’s voice was groggy from his own interrupted sleep. Andrew didn’t answer, instead flicking away his cigarette and sitting into the drivers seat. Neil walked around to the passenger side and sat in. When he tried to warm his hands on the hot air Andrew had blowing through the air-con, Andrew turned the heat off. Neil was sure if Andrew was medicated he would’ve laughed, but he instead opted for watching the road as they drove in silence. Neil sat back and tried his best not to fall asleep. His head bumped about on the headrest as they drove, and every time his eyes started to close, his sleep cycle begging him to come back to rest, Andrew would snap his fingers in his face or lay a punch down on his thigh. After a short drive, they pulled up into the empty lot of some National Park Neil didn’t know the name of. He was too tired to pay attention to the signs, but figured Andrew wouldn’t bring him to a park to kill him or let him go. Andrew was a man of truth when he wanted to be; He wanted to know why he was on the run and Neil didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Why are we here?” Neil asked at the same time Andrew said “What brought a runaway to Oakland?”They both paused for a moment, but Neil knew Andrew wasn’t going to answer his question until Neil answered his.

“It was the first place she wanted to stop.” Neil spoke through a yawn. “The others before there made her too paranoid. It was the first time she felt like she could close her eyes and actually sleep without feeling like she was…” He thought about his words for a moment. The last conversation they’d had, he told him he was on the run, but Andrew already knew that. Neil thought he’d got through to him by giving him half-honesty, telling him his parents were dead. He never brought up Riko, or his family, instead choosing the option of trying to appeal to Andrew’s inner child, who remembered Stefan. It was a stupid choice, and Neil knew that the second he chose it. “She could sleep without feeling like she had a target on her back.”

“Did you kill her?” Andrew said it so casually it felt like murder was something so normal, like eating lunch or going for a walk. Like asking if he killed his mother was just like asking if he liked the taste of garlic, or if he was having a good day.

“No,” Neil answered. He’d been thinking about what he would tell Andrew about his life since he seen him in Arizona. Who was he before Oakland? Where did they go? Who was he running from? “Riko’s family did.”

And suddenly Andrew was interested. His face was a mixture of disbelief and boredom. Neil told him his manufactured version of the story; that his parents were killed by the Moriyama family, and that they’d been on the run since the execution of his Father. He kept out the part about the Butcher of Baltimore, or the fact that he was actually still alive, but Andrew’s mind was at work as Neil told the story. If he didn’t look awake before, he did now. Neil spoke for an hour, maybe less, maybe more, flowing from story to anecdote to answering questions that Andrew slipped in whenever he wanted. Neil answered it all with mostly-truths, redacting the stuff Andrew simply didn’t need to know. Neil was a runaway, his family were in some bad business, but Neil was the only one left.

“I really didn’t think you could get any more stupid, yet I am constantly surprised.” Andrew tutted as he shook a cigarette out of the packet, into his hand. He rolled down the window on his side and smoked out of it, seemingly unbothered by the wind that just blew the smoke back into his face. “You knew who I was, but you knew Kevin too? How forgetful do you think people are?”

“I don’t know,” Neil told him honestly. “I just- We were so young. I met Kevin years before I met you. I just didn’t think I was important to anyone.” Andrew laughed a laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all. It was the sound of dismissal, as though he didn’t believe a word that spilled from Neil’s tired lips. “I didn’t think I’d ever be particularly memorable or mean anything to anyone. That was the most important thing to my mom.”

“What, being unimportant?” Andrew didn’t look at Neil as he spoke.

“Being forgettable.” Neil sighed, thinking about his mother’s words that had been drilled into his head. If you’re too interesting, you’re asking to be killed. Be boring. Be normal. Be forgettable. “You fucked that up for me.”

“See, you keep blaming me,” Andrew shook his head as he took a drag from the cigarette that had been half-smoked by the wind. “I didn’t fuck up your life, Abagnale, you did.” Neil didn’t get the reference, but he didn’t ask either.

“I don’t mean it’s your fault. You didn’t do anything,” Neil tried correcting himself. “I couldn’t help it when I was around you. And all I could do every second of my days after Oakland was blame you because I couldn’t deal with the fact that I let you in. Everything I learned, everything I’d done, you came along and turned the place upside down because I just had to know you. I had to.”

“Why?” Andrew looked at him with that same uninterested look he usually had, when a medically-induced smile wasn’t spread across his cheeks. “What made me any different to the hundreds of other kids I’m sure you met on your travels, hmm?”

“You were real.” Andrew scoffed. Neil frowned at that and shrugged his shoulders. “We’ve been through this. Don’t waste my time getting to know me if you just want me to run. You want me to get lost in the park, is it? Is that why you brought me here?”

“Nothing better than some honesty with a view.” Andrew tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “How do you expect me to trust you when you’ve spent your whole life a liar? Be mad if you want, but I’m much less gullible now, you see. Once a liar, always a liar.” Neil sent Andrew a look as he hovered his hand over Andrew’s. When he just stared at it, Neil brought Andrew’s hand up to his collarbone where was a small, raised, pink scar sitting just above it.

“The motels phone.” Neil spoke quietly, as if Mary would hear, as if she was waiting to jump out from behind the car to take him and beat him again for letting his guard down, for being unforgettable. “It was the first thing she could grab when we got into our room. I never told her your name, and she beat me harder for it. I never wanted to let her anger ruin your name.” Andrew dropped his hand from Neil’s grip.

“Pretty unintelligent to take hits for someone you thought you’d never see again.”

Then Neil said, “I knew I’d never forget you.” Andrew tensed up at the almost-promise, and the memories came flooding back for Neil like a tsunami sweeping over every other thought he had. “I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.” Neil almost reached out to touch Andrew before he remembered the boundary Andrew had set that night in Columbia. Neil didn’t have a right to touch him anymore, and he knew Andrew noticed as Neil’s hand lifted and then hesitantly fell. “Tell me something I don’t know about this Andrew. I’ve told you my life, tell me yours.” He gestured to Andrew, sat across from him with an almost-frown on his face and a thinking mind hard at work.

“This Andrew doesn’t give a shit about what answers you think you deserve.” He looked Neil up and down. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“Why doesn’t Nicky know you’re gay?” Neil asked, instead of waiting for him to come up with something himself, it was much easier to get honesty from Andrew by prompting him. Neil watched as his jaw tensed for a second, thinking about the answer.

“Nicky is too involved in being the gay cousin to un-assume.” Andrew barely lifted his shoulders in the form of a shrug. “He hasn’t asked.”

“Why don’t you tell him?”

“I don’t ‘come out’,” He brushed off the thought with the flick of his wrist and a roll of his eyes. “I don’t fuck women in my spare time. Who cares?”

“Yeah, sure, but-” Neil had started to speak when Andrew cut across.

“At least I’m out to myself,” He nodded towards him. “You, on the other hand? Was it just Stefan who was into it or is the unnamed you just in denial?”

“I’m not, like…” Neil hated the sexuality question. It was confusing and messy and Andrew and Andrew and Andrew. “There was no one after you. It’s only been you.”

“By choice or by mothers hands?”

“Neither. Both?” He wasn’t sure how to answer. “The foxes are the first people I’ve let get somewhat close since then. That’s the truth. I haven’t wanted to. I’m just not interested in anyone.” The except for you part was silent, but he knew Andrew had somewhat heard it when he sat back, one hand on the steering wheel, the other arm resting on the door, as he took a deep breath that he tried to hide. Neil wasn’t even sure he was still into Andrew like that, because they were so young, after all. Andrew was still experimenting, and they never spoke about those kinds of feelings. They were friends who kissed each other because they wanted to know what it felt like. They kissed each other because maybe they thought they liked it. Maybe they’d have to do it again just to be sure. But that was so long ago, and so much had changed. Neil had had a crush on that Andrew, but this one? He wasn’t so sure. This one was harsh and mean, angry and unmoving. This one had been hard-boiled by life and wasn’t going to crack any time soon. He didn’t know if he felt things anymore. He didn’t know if Andrew was capable of a crush, or a kiss, or a simple, electric touch of fingers to skin.

Without a word, Andrew had switched on the ignition and idled the engine for a moment before pulling out and starting on the drive back to campus. Neil didn’t say anything else, he only rested his head on the window and watched as the morning sun slowly lit up the night sky, the dark navy blue taking over the black sky so slowly it was hardly noticeable.

He had pulled into his usual parking spot not long later, still not looking at Neil or speaking at all. He stayed still in the drivers seat after switching the engine off. Neil took that as his cue to leave. Matching Andrew’s silent treatment, he got up and shut the door without a word. Andrew had rolled down his window again, another cigarette already stuck between his lips. He watched as Neil walked around the car before he tapped the outside of his door twice to catch his attention. Neil spoke before he could.

“Give me a chance.” The wind blew his hair off his face, reminding him how cold it was, and why he should’ve worn a jacket. “Let me stay. I don’t have anything else.”

“Don’t be fooled into thinking I trust you.” He hung his hand out the window finally looking Neil in the eyes again. “It’s a matter of time before your egg timer runs out. Make use of it while you can.”

“I’ll bury Stefan forever, if you ask.” Neil offered in payment for the sudden change of heart in letting him stay, in cleaning his hands of the idea that Neil was after Kevin, or that he was a threat. “Say the word and we start fresh from today.”

“I don’t care,” Andrew took a long drag, one that felt like it was centuries long, like the sun would be up by the time he finished. He blew it out and raised his hands. “Kill what wasn’t real. Prove to me what was.”

Neil wasn’t sure what that invitation meant, but he didn’t ask Andrew to keep speaking. When they broke eye contact, he knew then Andrew wanted him to leave. Neil didn’t look back, heart racing, practically ready to burst out of his chest by the time he reached his dorm room. He opened the door as quietly as he could, careful not to disturb his peacefully sleeping roommates, and he crawled back into bed to try get some sleep before the practice scheduled for the morning. Instead of counting sheep, battling restlessness like a fight for his life, he thought of Stefan. He thought of the heart of Nathaniel that had gotten wrapped up in his blond hair and tiny frame. Neil fell asleep thinking about who he used to be, and what parts of that were real. What parts could he keep? His mind spent its last morsels of energy on dissecting Neil Josten, to make him feel a little more real.

The next time they saw each other outside of practice was when Kevin started coming to find him late at night to go to the court and practice together. Neil realised quickly he was going to become a night owl as a Fox, but it still took him a while to adjust to the late nights and early starts. But him and Andrew kept their distance; they didn’t speak if they didn’t have to, and their conversations were kept to a line or two each. They played their first match of the season, and Andrew had sent out shots for Neil like they were capable of working together. Then there was Kathy Ferdinand’s show, at which Andrew had hands all over him, holding him back from killing Riko on live TV. He had made a deal to protect Kevin, and then he was being psychically held back from doing so. Neil did what he couldn’t, and stood up to Riko, a conscious effort to gain his trust, to prove he was on the side of the foxes. Then there was that touch, that simple, light, barely-there touch, and Neil knew he’d won. He’d earned Andrew’s trust, at least for a moment, but that was all that mattered.

When Andrew ever-so-kindly reminded Neil later that Riko would find out about him, the original “Neil”, as easily as he’d strolled onto that stage to sit across from Kevin, there was no choice but to run. He couldn’t imagine any other option. His entire body went into fight or flight, and he struggled to sit still as Andrew held his collar and told him to stay.

“Why?” Neil asked, throat dry, hands shaking, after Andrew offered him protection for the year if he promised to stay. It was funny to imagine, as if there was anything he could do against the actual, guns-blazing, internationally dominating mafia. “Why would you help me?” Andrew laughed, and just about caressed Neil’s jaw in the most non-affectionate way possible. Neil felt his touch leave blood on his skin, but he didn’t flinch. Andrew was manic, and didn’t care. He looked as if he didn’t even feel the pain of a glass-shattering punch, and was actively enjoying the chaos that the morning had brought with it.

Andrew didn’t give him any sort of an answer until later that night, when he stepped into Neil’s space and told him to remember the feeling; Neil couldn’t run anymore. He had given his word to Andrew that he would stay, and as much as he had started to hate the Present-Day-Andrew-Minyard, he trusted him as a man of his word. Neil had killed the parts of Stefan that were untrue; all that was left was the real emotion he felt when he looked at Andrew. He was an asshole, but he was Andrew, and Neil trusted this five foot blond boy with his life. Perhaps it was crazy, perhaps he was officially, undeniable, finally signing his name on his death wish, ticking down the hours until his past caught up. Whereas running was his old line of defence, his current one was Andrew. Andrew was an unlit fire suddenly gaining embers, and Neil knew it was dangerous to let that fire grow. Especially when Andrew leaned over in Eden’s, crackers on his tongue, a drink in his hands, and whispered in German;

“Mommy’s not here to hurt you anymore.” Neil snapped his gaze towards Andrew, who was coming up on his high, speaking to Neil but watching the crowd on the dancefloor. His breath at Neil’s ear sent shivers up his spine, goosebumps on his arms. “My hands are open to have your back. Give it to me this time.”

[pedrosbish]

cinnamon girl

word count: 2.2k

warnings: angst, unrequited feelings, mentions of drug use, lil bit of fluff

“Are you nervous?”

You smile softy at the way his laugh falls out of his mouth, like a melody that rises before slowly falling - yeah, he’s really nervous. Glancing at him standing in front of the mirror, you notice him struggling with his bowtie, something the boys laughed about when he said that his wife-to-be had insisted he wear it on the big day - you had not laughed. 

“This fucking thing,” he turns towards you with his hands in the air and a frown on his face that you can’t help but chuckle at. “Could you please help me?”

“Maybe I could get one of the boys to d-”

“Please?” 

Ignoring the way your stomach erupts in butterflies at the way he stares at you, his deep brown eyes calling you to drown in them, you tentatively move to stand in front of him. Taking a deep breath through your nose your hands move of their own accord, placing themselves on his chest and you sneak a glance up at his face, his beautiful and gleaming face. Your eyes burn slightly as you touch his bowtie, the black material soft as you slowly tie it below the collar of his shirt. He looks so happy and it breaks your heart.

You can feel the way his eyes are trained on you and your heart flutters in your ribcage but you don’t dwell on the feeling for too long otherwise it would cause hope to blossom in a place where it was sure to fizzle out. You couldn’t even look the man you loved in the face. 

“There you go Frankie,” it’s a quiet whisper as you pat his chest, once then twice, squishing the ache to hold onto him for just a little while longer. 

“Thank you,” he faces the mirror, fixing his recently trimmed hair and straightening the bowtie. “Right, how do I look?”

“Very handsome,” you force a laugh out of your mouth but it falls flat. “I should probably go join the rest of the guests now.” 

Before you can leave, a calloused hand grabs your wrist and gently tugs you into the warm body of Frankie who proceeds to wrap his arms around your waist, his face falling into the crook of your neck, his breath causing goosebumps to rise. You close your eyes, savouring the way he feels against you as your own arms wrap around his neck, squeezing tightly before releasing him. You pat his shoulders and his arms falls to his sides, a small smile on his face as he watches you leave the room. 

You close your eyes as the door falls shut behind you, a few tears escaping and rolling down your face and you hastily wipe them away as you hear footsteps moving in your direction. Santiago appears in your blurry vision as he hurries towards you, gently taking you by the elbow and steering you around the corner just as a sob works its way up your throat. 

“It hurts so fucking much Santi,” you manage to gasp out and the man before you nods his head, a small frown on his face as he pulls you into his chest, your tears instantly leaving its mark on his chest. “God, I love him so much it hurts. Why does it hurt so much?”

Why were you doing this to yourself?

You already had the answer to that. Because you loved Frankie Morales with all of your heart and seeing him this happy, even if it meant you had to break yourself and attempt to mend the broken pieces, even if it meant it wasn’t with you, it was worth it.

                                             ~~~

“She’s beautiful Francisco.”

You gently trace the soft face of the baby in your arms, nestled in her pink blanket and eyes shut. Little noises escape her mouth as she dreams, her tiny hand wrapping around your finger tightly which causes a small giggle to escape you. 

“She’s got quite a grip!” You glance up at him only to notice him looking out the window overlooking the garden outside, lost in his own thoughts. 

You took the time to look him over, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you noticed the bags that stood out on his unusually pale face and the way his shirt hung loosely on his body, more so then when you had last seen him. Eyebrows scrunching in worry, you place the baby back in her chair, the tenseness in your shoulder disappearing for a second as she wiggles before settling back into her sleep. 

It all returns when you start walking towards Frankie, slowly reaching a hand out and placing it on his back. He jumps slightly before settling back to watch outside when he notices that it’s just you. 

“Frankie,” you try to get his attention and you ignore the way your heart tugs when he makes no move to acknowledge you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

You know that he didn't mean to snap at you but you still retract your hand from its position quickly and it falls at your side, nervously fiddling with a loose piece of string from your jeans. His eyes soften when he notices and he rubs at his forehead, eyes closing for a second before he looks at you, really looks at you this time instead of just looking through you. 

“I’m just tired,” his laugh is humourless as he glances around the house, taking in the blankets and pillows in a pile on the couch and the baby next to it. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are- are you guys...fighting?”

“Yeah,” he sighs and you pretend not to notice the way his eyes slowly become shinier with every second. “Just...couple problems.” 

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you rub soothingly with your thumb, taking no notice of the way they hunch towards you, begging for more comfort. His eyes look over your face but you don’t notice, only taking in the fact that his skin feels oddly clammy under your hand and the bone of his shoulder protrudes. 

“Have you been eating properly?”

He doesn’t answer, his eyes and body now shifting away from you as he returns to his spot by the window. Fuck, you shouldn't have said anything. You instantly regret speaking until an idea sparks in your mind. 

“We could maybe show the kid our favourite diner? I could really go for one of their burgers and milkshakes right now.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips and you smile in return, knowing you said the right thing. The two of you had accidentally stumbled across the small diner - how you don’t exactly remember as you were looking for a completely different place- and you had eaten, falling in love with the place. As often as you two could you would meet up for a meal there, finding solace in the food and in each other.

 But, but then it falls as quickly as it appeared and he shakes his head. 

“Not hungry.”

“Frankie, please. You look like you’ve barely eaten! It’s not good for you and it’s not good for your baby.”

“I said I’m fucking fine! Just fucking leave me be!”

Silence.

And then it’s broken by the cries of the once sleeping baby. You rush over and immediately rock her back and forth, hiding your tears from the gaze of Frankie who, once again, turns to look out at that fucking window as if he hadn’t just yelled at you. Once her cries fade out, you place her back in her chair before moving towards Frankie. 

“I just wanted to h-”

“Just get out.”

“What?”

He whips around to face you, fire burning in his eyes and face now red. 

“I don’t need your help. Fuck, I don’t even want your help. I’m fine, my wife is fine and my baby is fine. Now please get the fuck out of my house.”

Your mouth falls open in shock at his outburst, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks as you watch him, his chest heaving at a fast pace and his face red as he glares at you, his lips pressed into a thin line. He makes no move to comfort you, doesn’t open his mouth to apologise and explain what’s got him worked up and it breaks your heart. This wasn’t the Frankie you knew and loved. 

“I can’t do this with you Francisco. I can’t watch the man I love fall apart like this,” you manage to say and you don’t wait for his answer as you quickly kiss the baby goodbye and walk out the door. 

~~~

Hours turned into days and days turned into months with neither you or Frankie making any move to talk to each other. Santiago had visited you several times after you had ignored his comments about how his friend, your friend, was doing, begging you to come out for drinks, to the movies, even softball games with the boys. You had declined every invitation and Santiago had never pushed, eventually getting the hint that you were ignoring a certain somebody. 

He hadn’t given much detail but had said that Frankie was doing better, he had “gotten clean” after his wife had left and threatened to take his baby away from him. Santiago had left after that conversation and you had cried. You cried until your lungs hurt and the tears had dried up. Your friend had been hurting so much that he couldn't come to you for help. 

A week had passed since that conversation with Santiago and so many times you had opened your contacts, finger hovering over Frankie’s number but every time you had put your phone down, your argument playing in your head over and over again. You were too scared to make amends, scared that he would yell at you again for meddling in his life. 

A knock sounds at the door and you rush over - whoever was out there in this weather was either very brave or very stupid. It was raining heavily as you opened the door and a wave of cold and wet air hit you, making a gasp escape your mouth. Squinting your eyes against the onslaught of rain you take in the hooded figure of-

“Francisco? What the hell are you doing here?” You raise your voice in order for him to hear you over the rain. “Quickly come inside!”

Closing the door behind him, Frankie attempts to shake off the water that collected on his jacket as he had tried working up the courage to raise his fist and knock on your door. His breath catches in his throat as he glances at you, still as beautiful as the day he last saw you, the last day he yelled at you. 

“I’m so sorry,” he looks down at the ground and whispers it so quietly but you manage to hear him. “I’m so sorry for what I said, for what I did to you. You didn't fucking deserve it. God, you deserve a better friend than me.”

“Frankie...”

He closes his eyes at the wave of emotion that washes over him at the sound of his nickname falling past your lips, whispered so softly that he almost collapses to his knees in front of you. You deserve to be worshipped. You deserve every good thing in this goddamn world. 

You slowly move closer to him until you stand directly in front of him and ignoring the way his wet clothes make you shiver, you cup his cheek in your hand. He leans into your touch and opens his eyes which trace every feature on your face as if it was his last day to do so and you ignore the way your heart flutters within your chest, threatening to escape into the hands of the man before you. 

“Did you mean what you said that night?” 

His question knocks you off guard and your eyebrows furrow in concentration as you work through what was said that night, giving him the sudden urge to trace your eyebrows, your eyes, your nose, your lips, every part of you with his finger. You open your mouth to answer but he beats you to it. 

“When you said that you loved me?”

“Oh Francisco,” you say gently, eyes filling with tears. “How could I not?”

Without hesitation, he leans forward and captures your lips in a kiss that would have knocked you off your feet if it had not been for his arm circling around your waist. His lips are as soft, as they have always looked to you, his scruff ticking your skin, and with that thought you wrap your arms around his neck, ignoring the way his wet clothes stick to your dry ones. 

You break away for a second to catch your breath, smiling at the way your lips tingle with his kiss and he smiles back down at you. This was your Frankie. He leans down to plant a fleeting kiss on your lips, instantly making you want more, more, more. 

“I love you too.”

[darlingmulti]

My First Kiss (ChanLix)

Description - Short and sweet fic about Chan taking Felix's first kiss.

Pairing- Stray Kids Bang Chan x Felix

Genre- bxb, fluff, slice of life

Word count - 3.3k

Warnings- neck kissing, making out

Part 2- Shy (Chanlix and Minsung)

Lil note- This is the first time I'm publishing something I've written in a while and this is my first time posting on tumblr so if you want please feel free to give me pointers or tell me what you thought. Thanks for reading :)

As Stray Kids walked into their dorm Chan seemed quite preoccupied. Staying behind as every member walked in before him. All he could think about was the interview that day. Felix had never kissed anyone?

He had a hard time believing it considering how absolutely adorable he was, not to mention Chan and Felix had talked before about girl friends they had back home before joining Stray Kids. Perhaps Felix had just said that to keep the cute, innocent, image for his fans?

He entered and closed the door, sliding off his shoes with the others. Jisung threw himself onto the couch and immediately pulled out his phone to play games while Minho naturally settled beside him, sighing and leaning against one of Jisungs knees quietly. It certainly wasn’t unusual for the two of them to be like that, they had always been close with one another.

Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jeongin had already disappeared down the halls and Changbin was in the kitchen looking for food with Felix close behind him peering cutely over his shoulders to see inside the fridge.

Chan came over and threw his arm around Felix’s small frame,“Are you guys hungry?” He asked curiously.

The two nodded at their leader's question, but there was a disgruntled expression on their faces. They were almost completely out of any good food to make. They would have to go grocery shopping, but no one had the energy to do all that right now. Especially after the schedule they had had.

Felix looked disappointed, and the little pout on his freckled face was enough to make Chan’s heart ache.

“Hey, let’s order pizza hm?” He suggested, wrapping his other arm around Felix in an easy embrace, holding him perfectly against him with his chin falling onto the smaller boy's shoulder.

“Really?” Felix asked, his eyes sparkling as he looked over.

Before he could answer Changbin immediately began shouting, “Leader Bang

Chan is buying us pizza!!”

There was a loud cheer across the dorm and Felix cheered as well, jumping a bit against Chan. He sighed and pulled out his phone to place the order for his kids.

Hours later the members had finished eating and the majority had gone to lay down. Chan had offered to clean up after everyone, and while Hyunjin and Seungmin had insisted on cleaning their plates before leaving the other members gladly accepted his offer. All except for Felix who was gathering up plates and cups scattered around their living/dining area quietly.

“You really don’t have to help me, it’s been a long day. You should rest.” Chan insisted.

“You should rest.” Felix shot back, straightening up and smiling sweetly at Chan. Chan couldn’t help but stare at him. He was so gorgeous and cute. His teeth were blinding, his freckles dusted his cheeks like stars and his blond hair looked unbearably soft… Had this perfect boy really never been kissed before?

Felix raised his eyebrows and walked closer, “Alright?” he was asking, and Chan blushed, realizing he had zoned out staring at his face and hadn’t even heard what was being said to him.

“Uh… What?”

“See! You’re the one who needs to rest!” Felix pouted, setting down the plates and beginning to push on Chan’s broad back with his tiny hands, without much use. Despite the fact that the two were about the same height Felix was overall slighter than Chan, and not nearly as strong as his friend.

“What did you say?” Chan whined, turning around to face Felix while he still tried vainly to push him, splaying his hands naturally over Chan’s chest, looking up into his eyes with a friendly but insistent expression.

“I said you should go to bed and I’ll finish up.” He lied cheekily, still smiling brightly.

Chan laughed, “No you didn’t, what did you sayyy?” He whined again, still standing strong against Felix’s attempts.

“Seriously! That’s what I said!” He exclaimed before laughing out loud and throwing himself against Chan, finally managing to make him stumble a bit, causing Chan to instinctively reach up and grab onto his arm for support.

The two were now closer, chests nearly pressed together as Felix’s eyes slid sheepishly up to look into his hyungs eyes, Chan was nearly floored. He was so pretty?? So cute??

“Sor-”

“Have you really never kissed anyone before?” Chan blurted out, cutting off his apology to ask, completely flabbergasted by the fact when faced with how stunning Felix was.

Felix blushed and stepped back a bit, “Uh… yeah.” He said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck shyly. Clearly caught off guard from the random question.

“What about your girlfriends?”

“Those weren’t serious you know.” Felix said, laughing softly.

“Oh,” Chan replied, stepping away and taking the plates to the sink, feeling his face heating up at the atmosphere he had created asking such a stupid question.

“Well...Wh-what about you?” Felix asked, turning to face Chan who wasn’t looking at him and was instead focused on clearing what little food was left on the plates before loading them into the dishwasher.

“I’ve kissed a few.”

“A few!?”

Chan chuckled at the incredulity in Felix’s voice, “I’m not a pure angel like yourself.”

“Hey! I’m not pure,” Felix sulked. Throwing himself dramatically on the couch, “You can finish doing the dishes actually. I don’t want to.”

Chan rolled his eyes, “Go lay in bed then. You should sleep.”

Felix huffed and pulled out his phone to play games. The two were quiet for a while but then Felix finally was too curious. They were best friends right, so it wasn’t like the topic was weird.

“So… what’s kissing like?” He asked innocently, setting his phone down and sitting up to look at Chan with his wide brown eyes.

Chan looked back at him with a cocked eyebrow, “It’s… it’s nice.” He replied, thinking back on previous kisses he’d had.

“Oh?” Felix asked, tilting his head.

Chan sighed, turning on the dishwasher before he went to settle down on the couch beside Felix. It was almost one am, they should both be getting ready for bed, but instead here they were talking about kissing.

“It depends. I like kissing. It feels nice, just… intimate.” Chan was at a loss for words, how could he adequately explain a kiss to Felix, who had apparently never kissed anyone before.

Felix nodded and glanced up at Chan, his eyes landing on his plush lips for probably too long. When he thought about it, it wasn’t surprising that Chan had kissed people before. He was incredibly handsome and radiated warmth. Not to mention, he had a nice body and was a sturdy, safe, person.

“What are you looking at?” Chan asked, his lips curving into a warm smile as Felix seemed to jump and look quickly into his eyes and then at the space on the sofa between them.

“Nothing…” He said shyly.

The two sat awkwardly together, an unusual thing for the best friends, who almost never ran out of things to say or do. They hadn’t been awkward for years but now here they were, silent, tension hovering in the air between them.

“Would you like to kiss someone?” Chan asked. Looking at Felix shyly. A part of him, a small part of him, wanted to lean forward and lift Felix’s chin and gaze deeply into his pretty eyes and press a kiss against his lips. Just to see what it would feel like.

Felix let out an awkward laugh, “What? No?... who would I even..?” He trailed off and looked at Chan from under his long lashes anxiously.

Chan was in the lead here, he could easily just say forget about it, make a joke and move on. Perhaps give him a sweet reassurance that his time would come and he had nothing to worry about.

It was late though, and the tiredness was making images of them kissing swim through his mind. He couldn’t believe it, but in this moment, he wanted to kiss Felix. Maybe it was the way his cheeks had heated up into a soft pink blush, or the way his eyes looked so filled with uncertainty and nerves. Perhaps it was the way his hands had curled into his lap when Chan had sat beside him, or how they had splayed over Chan’s chest earlier, but he wanted to kiss Felix badly.

Chan took a deep breath, “You could kiss… me.” His voice was breathy almost, shaky. As if he had been running a long time.

Felix didn’t make a sound. He didn’t gasp in shock, or start laughing out loud. Chan’s words were not joking, and were not funny in the slightest. His thoughts were scrambled… would it really be so bad? Chan was one of his best friends, and had always been someone Felix loved and trusted. From the moment he met him, he had always felt safe with Chan, and found him attractive. He didn’t even care that Chan was a man… What did it matter?

“Ah… sorry. Forget I said anything.” Chan said anxiously, the silence was eating him up.

“No!” Felix said quickly, “No, I-,” Felix looked into Chan’s eyes, “I want to.”

Chan wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting out of Felix, but that wasn’t it. His heart beat started pounding so hard in his chest he was surprised the members weren’t coming out to see what all the commotion was, “Oh,” he breathed, “Ok.” he said, trying to get a hold of himself. He sat up a bit straighter, trying not to show how flustered he actually was. Especially since Felix had said yes.

Felix sat up too, his hands still clasped tightly in his lap, he looked into Chan’s warm eyes again and then away at the wall behind them. He felt strange, he didn’t know where to put his hands or where to look. He hadn’t thought the night would come to this, and it wasn’t that he minded, he just hadn’t really been able to prepare for it.

“Felix.” Chan said, reaching over and taking Felix’s hands in his own, “First off, you need to relax.”

He was nervous too, but he knew Felix was probably a lot more nervous than he was. He had never kissed a boy before, but he had kissed girls, it probably wasn’t much different.

“I’m relaxed,” Felix lied, trying to give a calm smile but only ending up looking more uncomfortable.

“No you’re not,” Chan laughed, shaking his head at how sweet Felix was, he gently began swooping his thumb back and forth across the back of Felix’s hands, trying to be calming.

“It won’t be weird right…?” Felix asked, suddenly worried about something else entirely. He didn’t want his relationship with Chan to change.

“Why would it be weird?” Chan asked, as if that was a crazy thing to ask, “It’s only a kiss anyways… and at least this way you know, and I know, that your first kiss is with someone who cares about you.”

“That’s true…” Felix replied, his face felt suddenly much hotter and he instinctively leaned forward, hiding his face against Chan’s shoulder becoming enveloped in the scent of his cologne. An immediate sense of comfort washed over him, Chan truly felt like home to him.

Chan gently rubbed his back, “If you don’t want to we can just forget about it though… I don’t want you to feel too anxious or regret it.”

Felix shook his head, pulling away to look at Chan, “I won’t regret it… it’s not like it would change anything.” He said. The more he looked at Chan the more he wanted to kiss him. Especially right now, in his grey sweat pants and dark tee shirt, blond hair all curly and messy, he looked perfect.

“Of course not.” Chan reassured, his eyes scanning Felix’s face still for any traces of doubt. Felix was so adorable, so wholesome. He was more worried than anything about scaring him or upsetting him. He didn’t want Felix to feel any pressure either. Chan noticed his long hair was pulled into a tiny ponytail at the nape of his neck.

Chan leaned forward and brought his arms around Felix’s shoulders naturally, gently reaching up and taking the hair tie out of his hair and dropping it on the couch behind him before beginning to gently run his fingers through his hair, fanning it out sweetly for Felix.

Felix tensed for a moment and then relaxed and smiled, their faces were closer, “What did you do that for?” He asked softly, his breath tickling Chan’s nose as his fingers combed through his blond hair affectionately.

“I just felt like it.” Chan replied, he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Ohh,” Felix nodded, keeping his hands clasped in his lap. He wanted to reach out, to put his hands on Chan’s solid chest or just hug him again, but he didn’t know if that would be too much.

“Felix,” Chan breathed, leaning slightly closer to him. He felt strangely urgent, almost desperate to close the distance between them, but he was also highly aware of Felix’s shyness. Despite all of his feelings if Felix wanted to back out right now he would jump away without a second thought.

“Yeah,” Felix answered timidly, biting his lip slightly as he looked up into Chan’s wolfish gaze. He looked hungry, and intimidating.

“Can I kiss you,” He asked, his voice was gruff, and slightly strained.

Felix was frozen for a moment at the directness of his question, and the strange look in Chan’s eyes, but he wasn’t about to say no, he definitely wanted to kiss him.

He nodded affirmatively and felt his heart jump as Chan gently placed his hand under his chin and tilted his head up. Felix watched as his eyes closed and he came closer, and instinctively he closed his eyes as well.

Chan pressed his plush lips against Felix’s shyly puckered lips gently and then pulled away to look at Felix who’s eyes fluttered open incredulously, “Was that it?” he asked, but before he could become embarrassed by his candidness Chan was quickly kissing him again, one arm was wrapping around Felix and the other, which had been only tilting Felix’s face up was now cupping his velvety cheek.

Felix tentatively kissed back, moving his lips against Chan’s experienced mouth, and hoping he was doing it right. Chan led the kiss, separating occasionally and then crushing their lips back together.

The more they kissed the hotter Felix felt. There was a pit in the center of his stomach and his hands found their place against Chan’s waist. He found himself wanting to be closer to him. He lifted a hand to Chan’s strong face, feeling his jaw moving as they kissed.

Felix was startled when he felt Chan’s tongue against his mouth, but without much thought he slightly opened his mouth wider and poked his tongue back at Chan’s, who took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His fingers were squeezing Felix’s shoulder gently and Felix slowly began to sit up, not disconnecting from the kiss even for a moment as Chan tilted his head back to keep kissing Felix, his hands falling to his friends tiny waist.

Felix dropped his hands on Chan’s broad shoulders, feeling peculiar as Chan’s hands gently edged his hoodie up, allowing him to splay his fingers around Felix's sides, his thumbs gliding back and forth over the smooth skin of his hips.

Any trace of anxiety or nervousness had been completely washed away now, all they could think about was each other. Felix didn’t feel like he was having a first kiss at all, he felt comfortable and natural.

Chan broke away from the kiss for a moment to look into Felix’s eyes, the two of them were breathing heavily and both of their eyes were filled with passion. Chan gently reached up and put his hand back against Felix’s face. He leaned into Chan’s palm slightly with wide eyes and then Chan leaned up and kissed his forehead, and then his cheek, and his nose and the corner of his mouth, and his jaw. He trailed kisses affectionately all over the boys face, making Felix almost breathless.

“Are you okay?” Chan asked softly, stopping again at the corner of Felix’s mouth.

“Mhm,” Felix hummed, eyes already closed.

Chan smirked softly and kissed the boys lips again before pulling back, Felix’s eyes flew open in annoyance and he whined quietly.

“I think you’re enjoying it too much.” Chan said softly, one of his hands squeezing and rubbing Felix’s side still.

“Is that bad?” Felix asked, looking troubled for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing, was he being too much? Perhaps he should-

His thought process was interrupted as Chan smashed their lips back together again, kissing him more aggressively this time. If they were both having fun, why stop now? Chan’s mouth left Felix’s and found his neck instead, being careful to be gentle and not leave any marks as he kissed, licked, and nipped at the sensitive skin, eliciting sounds out of Felix he hadn’t heard before. Breathy moans and whines that were driving him mad.

He had never enjoyed kissing someone so much. He had never enjoyed hearing someone make these sounds so much. He pushed Felix down against the couch, crawling over his small body and kissing him again, their tongues were dancing together, and while Chan’s hands were holding down Felix’s hips, Felix’s hands were wrapped around Chan’s neck, fingers wrapped tight in his blond curls.

Chan’s hands began sliding up under Felix’s hoodie and over his taut abs, searching for his nipples without thought until Felix let out a small yelp and broke away, “W-wait.” he said softly.

Chan immediately froze, and pulled back, his eyes landed on Felix’s which were now chocolate pools of anxiety.

Chan immediately pulled back, ripping his hands out from under Felix’s hoodie like he’d been burned and sitting at the edge of the sofa, his head immediately going into his hands, “I’m-I’m sorry,” he got out, feeling a heavy sense of guilt taking over his mind. He had gone way too far… that was Felix’s first kiss! How could he be so aggressive?

Felix slowly sat up, looking at Chan’s guilty frame. He reached out a hand and tentatively rubbed Chan’s shoulder, “It’s okay.” he assured. He wasn’t upset with him at all. He just hadn’t expected Chan to do that, it had taken him off guard more than anything.

“No it’s not,” Chan said, pulling his hands away to look at Felix, totally stricken with guilt, “I went way too far. I basically ravaged you for your first kiss!” He exclaimed and hid his face again. He looked ready to cry.

Felix had figured he would be the one to get emotional after this, but he was actually more relaxed than ever. He felt...good? His body was still humming with the excitement and everywhere Chan had kissed and touched felt tingly.

Felix smiled and wrapped his arms around his friends shoulders, rubbing his solid biceps insistently, “Chan hyung,” he said, “It’s okaaaay,” he sang.

“I don’t deserve to be your hyung.” Chan pouted, but still leaned into Felix’s embrace, relieved that Felix clearly didn’t hate him. The two stayed like that for a moment before Chan finally looked at Felix, who’s head had already fallen against his shoulder tiredly.

“Was I- was it-?... Did you like it?” Chan asked sheepishly.

Felix blushed, and bashfully leaned up to kiss Chan’s cheek, “Let’s have more first kisses,” he suggested boldly before pressing his face against Chan’s shoulder again.

Chan froze for a moment and then laughed out loud, warranting a smack from Felix not only to quiet him, but to get out some of the embarrassment.

“You really did like it too much…” Chan commented, pulling Felix against his side affectionately.

“Shut up,” Felix muttered darkly, turning his head to breath in Chan’s scent again and closing his eyes. Though he was getting sleepy now, he couldn’t help but hope that he got to have another first kiss with Chan soon.

[simpz-art-stash]

The Breakdown [LMK]

A moment between MKing and Fang where both  finally regard each other and their relationship as father / daughter  & teacher / student. Tags: LOTS OF FLUFF “Again.” A pained groan escaped Fang as she sat up on her sore butt for the upteenth time. “Can’t we take a break?...My tail hurts…” She whined. She was tired, sweaty, and not at all having any fun. “No.”  MKing replied bluntly, “Get up. You’re never going to win if you stay down.” He replied, arms crossed with that same serious look on his face.

She  pouted and with an exaggerated motion, propped herself back up with the  little wooden staff she’d been using since the start of this whole  training business. The poor thing had seen better days, it was  splintered and worn, to the point she’d had to wrap the base of it in  fabric just to keep her hands from getting blisters. Which at this point  had hardly done much to ease her swelling callouses. And that wasn’t  even counting the last few matches she’d endured under her father’s  lessons. Ever since she’d turned 50 or so, that was when they’d  started this whole routine. He’d told her his reasoning for why she was  here, to grow strong and take by his side as his successor in the  future. She of course agreed to it, being the ever giving child to the  Monkey King. She wanted nothing more than to be just like him. To grow  up big and strong and eventually go on her own journey. Right now however she was struggling just to keep her legs from collapsing as she wiped the sweat off her brow. “Again.” He  commanded, snapping her from her thoughts as her eyes glanced across  the field of the dojo into his. She took a breath to steel her nerves  and charged at him. Remembering what he’d told her, putting force into  each step, and attempting to swing into the strike at the last minute. This time, this time- Her  steps were still just as unbalanced as the last attempt, even with her  stance poised properly, it left her wide open for an attack. Something  MKing had masterfully pulled from his observation in watching her run at  him the way she was now. It was sloppy, unfocused, and it didn’t take  him any time at all to swiftly advert her center of gravity around his  and throw her back. And just as before she found her world  spinning in a blurred mess of colors as she was flung back onto the  ground. This time landing on her side where a loud SNAP was heard. As  soon as he’d heard that noise he’d switched his demeanor in an instant  and rushed over, his brow creased as the dust settled. He first saw the  staff broken in two, its splintered bits laying scattered about. But as  some movement caught his eye, he shifted his attention towards that and  saw her moving to sit up, there wasn’t any screaming or crying so that  was a good sign. “Ah geeze..” He sighed, grateful it hadn’t been anything serious, “Come on let's get you a new one-” “I  DON’T WANNA ANYMORE!” She yelled. Which caused him to jump a little at  her sudden exclamation. His attention now primarily focused on the very  distraught child before him. Upon closer inspection she looked fine,  maybe a lil bruised but nothing a good night's rest couldn’t fix. No,  what really caused him to freeze up was the look on her face. She looked at him with a look of fear.

Now, Wukong was a monkey of many things. A proud warrior,  an old general, a friend and then some. He’d taken on countless battles  and fearsome enemies, with very few able to really strike the fear into  his core. But when it came to being envisioned with a look of  fear, and by his own child no less, it left him in a state of shock he  hadn’t felt in quite some time. In that moment of shell-shock  she’d managed to regain her footing enough to stumble on passed him, her  hands wiping at her face as she ran off. “Fang!” He called out to her, “Sweetpeach, wait- I-” It hadn't taken him long to really find her, one peek with his true sight saw her high up in the old bonsai that had been growing on the ledge of the cavern his little hut resided in. But even so..she didn't look anywhere near ready to deal with him right then so he simply sent out a few of the monkies to keep an eye on her while he went off to pick up some food, think things over. And boy did he think things over, if he thought he overthought things before, his mind was practically buzzing like an angry hive by the time he'd finally made it home. He was pushing her and pushing her and at this point he might as well of pushed her away altogether with the way she left him earlier. It broke his heart..seeing his little girl so distraught. All the while he'd been keeping himself blind to the signs for this reason alone, to make her strong..and himself stronger so that when the time came and something worse happened... He shook his head, he didn't wanna think about something like that when she couldn't even leave the island without his guidance.

He still found her in the same place as before, and exchanged a few glances with some of the older monkies that had been keeping an eye on her. They all seemed pretty huffy with him. 'Well that makes two of us...' He sighed. Passing them and climbing up into the tree, his eyes glancing over at the little ball curled tight around a cute little plush he'd made for her. Minikong, defender of the princess, stared back at Wukong, judging him in all his glory. But he could care less at that point, he had enough guilt to flood the ocean several times over, no his eyes were more keen to meet the current bundle taking resident in the little spot in the tree. "Sweetpeach?..." He spoke softly, as if the slightest wake against her fragile little ball would crumble her. It crumbled something when she flinched at his voice.

He cleared his throat when no answer came, "I uh..brought you some dinner." He rose his arm a little, before he placed down a carefully folded package of sliced fruit, all wrapped together in banana leaves. When she made no real movement to go for the food he sighed, "Come'on bud..throw me a peach here.." He pouted. She made a small noise, her little tail curling around her ankle, as if trying to make herself smaller in hopes he'd just forget about her and leave. "not hungry..." A rumble of her stomach claimed otherwise, which in turn got a small laugh out of Wukong, before he had to remind himself of his manners. "You sure about that?? Could've sworn I heard a rather distinguished appetite.." He hummed a little, his eyes never wavering from her furry little tail. She only seemed to grumble something incomprehensible in return. Creasing Wukong's brow as he tried to formulate a means to break through to her, at least enough to where she wouldn't starve herself... His eyes glanced back to Minikong, looking for pity, before an idea came to mind. "What's that Minikong?? She really isn't hungry?? Well that just won't do! And even after I picked her most favorite ripe fruit too..." He opened up the little ball of leaves, revealing the sweet savory piece's he'd so neatly cut up. He wasn't the best but he made due. "Sure would be a shame to let these spoil so soon..." He gave an overly exaggerated sigh, "I suppose that just means I'll have to eat them aaaaall by myself.." His eyes gave a side glance to the slight shuffle beside him. "Every.Last.Piece." "Nooo!!" Fang whined aloud suddenly, her movements jostling the branch she'd taken up residence on. Prompting Wukong to collect the rest of the snack before it met an untimely end to the monkies below. "Hmm?" Wukong quirked a brow back at her, hovering a piece dangerously close to his mouth all the same though. "Nonono!!" She smacked at his arm with Minikong, the traitor taking up arms against their king. "Woah kiddo I was just kidding!-" “Please don’t hate me. I know I can get better! Just train me more!” He froze, the piece in his hand lowering altogether as he turned to look at her altogether and her poor puffy face. Then it clicked. "Sweetpeach..." "I wanna get better, I wanna be strong, but it's hard!! I'm sorry!!" She stared tearing up again, her hands wiping at those big blue eyes of hers as she broke down. "I'm sorry, I'll get stronger, just don't leave me daddy!!" She bawled. And that right there shook Wukong's heart to the core, prompting him to drop what little fruit he had in hand before he finally took her into his arms. Cradling her and trying to soothe her cries. "Shh shh..hey it's okay.." He sighed, commending all those mother's and father's out there for having the strength to last as long as they did with this whole parenting thing...he could only imagine how the hell DBK dealt with it when he'd still been around. When her crying finally seemed to calm down he simply stayed with her like that for a bit, letting his hands comb through her hair while she sat curled up in his lap, so small to the rest of the world was she. He wanted to keep her safe from that world, that terrible merciless expanse that sought to take just as much as it gave. He wanted her to be strong, to keep safe, but he also wanted her to be happy...and what kind of father would he be to fail his own daughter if she wasn't any of those things? "I would never leave you behind...never for the remainder of eternity would I ever think of doing that to you." He softly stated, "I'm sorry I've been so hard on you..I didn't mean to push you as much as I did I just..." He sighed, "I just wanted to make sure that you would be ready. More than I was when I had to face the world and it's many painful lessons..." A sniffle escaped Fang then, her hands gripping at his shirt, before she shifted up a little, enough to look up at him, "Is that why you've been so scary?..." She sniffled, hiccuping a little, "Because..the world is scary..?" She blinked. His face grimaced, trying to keep it together for her sake, he brought his hand up and brushed a few stray tears off her cheek with his thumb. "I guess you could say that..." "I don't wanna..." Her face twisted into a sad frown, a threatening bout of tears pooled along the edges of her eyes despite the snot already running. "I don't wanna face the world if I can't have you with me anymore..." There it was, that remorseful little sliver of guilt that had been biting away at his core for the last few months, finally breaking through his stone ridden skin and jabbing him right in the heart. She'd been doing this for him. Pushing herself for him. To be the successor he told her she'd grow to be one day. She'd been so amped up, so happy to know she had a future to look forward to under his guidance. But that had been back when she was still a child, no better aware of her knowledge of the way things worked more than he did with the humans and their ever-growing fondness for technology. "I'm so sorry I made you feel that way sweetpeach...You don't have to be my successor if you don't want to.." "B-but I do!! I wanna make you proud!!.." She exclaimed, grabbing onto his shirt, "Be strong like you.." "Fang.." He called her name, prompting her to stiffen, he never used that name unless it was serious business. "I'm already proud of you...You've come so far with your training, even if you can't see it, you've already mastered plenty of martial arts! Took me years to find a good starting point and even then I had to fight just to get a teacher as good as myself." He hugged her close, "You don't need to be my successor for me to be proud of you OR to live here, you'll still be my little sweetpeach all the same..." He smiled down at her, easing her fears finally. "Whether you like it or not-" A squeal rang out of her when he lifted her up and began to smother her with kisses. "Stooop!!" She laughed, squirming like a fish out of water as he tickled her silly. "Stoppit!! That tickles!!" "I should hope so! Had me worried all day!!" He grinned, before heard a growl from her, his brow perking up. "Oh? Does the princess have her appetite back finally??" He smirked, finally putting her back down. Before his tail finally put down the bundle of leaves he'd been holding onto and allowed her to pick out the more juicy piece's she liked. "Go on then, I don't want you complain'n later that you missed dinner." He ruffled her hair a little and sat back. "Thank you daddy.." Her voice replied, a little muffled from the mouthful of food she had, but glazed with a sweetness that coated his heart with a sugary glaze that left him warm inside. "Of course bud..."

[slippinmickeys]

Five Seconds (4/8)

If you’d like to read at AO3, you may do so here. 

June 4, 2018

Mulder stood in the kitchen wearing only sweatpants, the rented house quiet around him. Scully had headed to the local Meijer for supplies of every stripe, and both kids had leapt at the chance to go with her, a rare occurrence the last few years, but a clear result of forced low profile and cabin fever.

He was nursing a rare cup of caffeinated coffee and watching a black squirrel make a nuisance of itself on the residence’s sole backyard bird feeder. When his new cell phone rang, he answered it out of muscle memory.

“Hello?”

“Hello Fox,” said the person on the other end of the line, “aren’t you a sound for sore ears.”

It took him a moment to place the voice.

“Lauren,” he said after a moment, smiling into the receiver, “it’s good to hear from you, too. I take it you got the information I sent you?”

Mulder had had Frohike send her their contact information as they’d previously agreed, and he assumed this was the first of her planned unplanned check-ins.

“It was a little cloak and dagger, even for the District,” she said, and Mulder could hear her smile over the line.

“And I always thought you lived for the drama,” he said companionably.

“Well, I got to wear my best Carmen SanDiego hat, so I guess I can’t be mad.”

Mulder chuckled into the receiver.

“How’s it going?” Lauren asked, her tone shifting to one of sober inquiry.

“It’s going.”

“Dana okay?” her question was sincere, and Mulder marveled how time could change a person.

“She’s good,” he said, “healthy. All systems go. I’m sure she’d want me to send you her best.”

“And the kids? How are they handling it all?”

Mulder sighed.

Will was adjusting, but Lily was miserable. Lonely and bored, unable to talk to friends back home and without the specter and excitement of starting school in the fall. She’d even begged to be able to get a summer job, even as just a waitress at the local Bennigan’s, but Mulder didn’t like the idea of her being away from the house for hours at a time, and Scully wasn’t sold on their borrowed Social Security numbers passing an employment check.

“The kids are… okay.”

“Going that well, huh?” she asked.

“Lil is pretty miserable,” he admitted.

“Of course she’s miserable,” Lauren scolded him, “she’s 18 years old and stuck in a house with her well-meaning parents. She should be at the beach with friends getting day drunk on Bud Light-”

“-she would never-” Mulder interrupted, to which Lauren outright laughed in his ear.

“-I assure you, she already has!”

Mulder sighed again. “Aside from dropping her off at the lake and buying her a rack of shit beer, you got any ideas?”

“College boys in tight pants,” Lauren said.

“Excuse me?” Mulder asked, taken aback.

“Take the family to a football game Fox, you’re in a Big Ten town for Christ’s sake.”

“It’s not football season yet.”

“Just take her somewhere with a lot of people. And give her a little bit of freedom. And when it is football season?”

“Yeah?” Mulder asked.

“Take her to see the tight pants.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

 September 3, 2018

It had been months and they started to relax, maybe a bit too much. They were alert, but comfortable. Maybe complacent, Mulder couldn't tell. All he knew was that if he kept the kids in the house for much longer, they'd kill each other and possibly him and Scully in the crossfire, and it would defeat the whole purpose of their hiding out. That said, all was quiet on the homefront -- Darlene and the Gunmen, and to a lesser extent, Doggett, Reyes and Skinner -- had heard nothing with their ears to the ground.

He and Scully had discussed it, and decided that they would let the kids out of the house. They allowed them to socialize occasionally, if they promised to be careful. Will had made a couple of friends around the neighborhood, playing roller hockey in their cul de sac, but Lily hadn't had as much luck, or as much motivation. She had been quiet and keeping mostly to herself, and come September, Mulder had decided to finally take Lauren's advice. They were going to a football game.

William was beside himself with excitement which made up for Lily's lack of enthusiasm. Scully had opted out of attending, citing her increasing need of accessible bathrooms and the inevitable long lines at ladies rooms in sports arenas.

They took the bus to the edge of the MSU campus -- the first time any of them had been on it since moving to the town several months before. There were people everywhere -- most dressed in the hometown colors of green and white, but a rare few -- looking as lost on campus as the Mulders themselves -- in the brown and gold of the visiting team.

Mulder had ducked into the student union to get a campus map, whereupon William insisted he buy all three of them something supporting the hometown team. Lily opted out, but William and Mulder walked out each in a brand new ball cap, the brims stiff and flat -- in addition, William was carrying a big foam finger emblazoned with the number 1 and the gruff face of Michigan State's Spartan mascot, Sparty.

"It's this way," Mulder said, consulting his map and pointing south, and they set off following streams of people headed toward the stadium which sat in the middle of campus.

The day was delightfully mild, and while the sun shone, there were fat clouds everywhere that would cover it as soon as you were at risk of overheating. There seemed to be tailgate parties set up at increasing concentrations the closer they got to the stadium, the air thick with the scent of grilling meat and tinny stereos playing the home school's fight song.

There were frat boys throwing a football back and forth every thirty or so feet, and crowds of coeds sipping beer from green Solo cups, hovering around games of corn hole and beer pong, laughing while they clung to each other like the last few Cheerios floating in a bowl of milk.

Mulder stole a glance at Lily, who looked at them wistfully. School had just started here at Michigan State and the week before at UVA, and Mulder could tell his daughter was fairly heartbroken about not being able to attend.

Mulder pulled up short and Lily and William both stopped several steps past him and turned to look at him expectantly.

"One sec," he said and walked over to a large tent wherein an alumni organization was selling hot dogs and brats to raise funds. He bought three bratwurst and a couple of sodas and walked them back to his kids, hands full and pockets overflowing with napkins and little packets of ketchup and mustard.

He nodded toward a low stone wall that ran along the length of one of the sidewalks and they all sat down and ate sloppily, ketchup plopping to the sidewalk that they leaned over so as not to spill on their clothes. William was of course done first and snapped open his soda, slurping from it happily.

"They call it pop here," he said, raising his can and giving his father a cheeky smirk.

"No one cares, Billy," Lily said, wiping her lips delicately with a napkin and setting the last quarter of the brat on the wall beside her. "I'm stuffed," she declared.

Will happily scarfed the rest of her sausage and Mulder was about to suggest they start moving again toward the stadium when a frisbee glided through the air and scuffed to the ground at their feet. Lily jumped off the wall and picked it up, looking around to find its owner, who was trotting toward them in droopy cargo shorts and an overlarge school shirt that said "I BLEED GREEN."

Mulder shook his head as Lily pulled back and winged it back toward the guy, sailing it in a perfect arc into his waiting hands.

The kid smiled at her, teeth and all.

"Nice arm!" the kid said, giving her one more charming look before trotting back toward his friends who were waiting further across the Diag that cut through the center of campus.

Mulder glanced at Lily who was wearing a small but fading smile.

He stood, balling up the napkin and sausage detritus. He turned to Lily impulsively.

"You want a beer?" he asked her.

She almost blanched and gave him a queer look.

"A beer?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, "you're a college kid now, no reason you shouldn't enjoy a cold one before a football game like all these other coeds."

Lily gave him a suspicious look just as Will piped up, "I want a beer."

"No," Mulder said, cutting off any complaints with a sharp look and then he walked over to a fraternity tent and talked for a moment to the kid that was manning the keg. After a few words, he handed over a few bills of cash and returned to his kids, handing Lily a dripping plastic cup.

He took a sip of his own cup and inclined his head at his daughter.

"Not the best," he said, while she took a tentative sip.

She smiled over the rim of the cup but kept her eyes on the ground.

"Tastes like college," she said, and Mulder couldn't help but smile.

XxX

"Hey Frisbee," Lily heard from several feet to her right.

She stood up from the drinking fountain in a nook of the stadium in between lavatories, and used her wrist to wipe her mouth dry.

The guy who lost his frisbee at her feet while they were eating before the game was standing only yards away, a small cocksure smile on his lips. Lily tilted her head at him.

"I thought that was you," he went on.

She nodded awkwardly and stepped away from the drinking fountain so the person behind her could drink.

"I think you're in the wrong stadium," he said, and when she looked at him in confusion, he smiled kindly and pointed at her shirt.

She'd donned a UVA sweatshirt for the game out of a sense of loyalty or rebellion (she wasn't sure which, if she were being honest) and she only realized when they stepped onto campus how much it actually made her stand out.

"This isn't the UVA game?" she said mock seriously, "God, I took a left heading into Charlottesville and I guess I should have taken a right." The comment earned her a chuckle and a genuine smile. "Guess the extra ten hours in the car should have been my first clue."

The guy took a few steps toward her and held out his hand.

"Travis," he said by way of introduction, and she shook his hand politely. It was warm in hers, and his grip was firm but brief.

"Lillian," Lily said, almost forgetting to introduce herself with her cover name.

"That's pretty," Travis said, and Lily could feel herself blushing, feeling awkward that it wasn't really her name. "So you go to UVA?"

She nodded. "Deferred for a semester while my folks moved here." Her father had told her to stick as close as she could to their actual stories when telling people their covers in order to keep it all straight.

"Cool," said Travis. They stood there awkwardly for a moment.

"I should get back to my seat," she said, "halftime's almost over."

People were streaming back into the seating areas, and she could hear the marching band keeping tempo as they marched off the field.

Travis shoved his hands into his pockets and for a moment looked slightly bashful.

"Yeah," he said, turning away and taking a few steps, before turning back. "Hey, you want to hang out sometime?"

Lily thought to herself that just about anything sounded better than having to spend one more night at home playing Hearts at the dining room table.

"Sure," she said, and Travis pulled out his phone and handed it to her.

She put in the number of the phone that Darlene had given her and felt only a little weird entering "Lillian" in the name box.

When she handed Travis back the phone, he used his other hand to lightly touch her arm.

"Hey, it was nice meeting you," he said.

"You too," she smiled and wandered back to her seat, trying very hard to keep a smile off her face.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"So..." Scully started, not sure how to broach the subject, other than just to spit it out, "Lily wants to know if she can go 'hang out with a guy.'"

She was sitting at the dining room table sipping on an iced tea, the dew of condensation slippery and cold on her fingertips. She was feeling pendulous and heavy, the high of the second trimester given way to the rolling agony of the third. Her husband, as she had suspected he would, looked suddenly aghast.

"She... what?"

"She got asked out, Mulder, and would like to know if it was okay with us if she went."

William came breezing through the kitchen then, opening up the fridge door and hanging in front of it, blankly staring at its contents, unimpressed.

"Pick something or don't, Will," Mulder said testily to his current youngest, "but please stop letting all the cold out of the fridge."

Will grabbed a soda and stood while the fridge door closed on its own behind him.

"That's Billy to you," he said, mocking insult, and made his way slowly out of the kitchen, staring at Mulder who affectionately reached out as he passed and messed his red curls into an orange soda froth on the top of his head.

"You need a haircut," Mulder said, and Will lifted his nose, shaking his hair out with dignified hauteur.

"So do you," the boy said and left the room.

Scully chuckled. "Don't take it out on him," she said.

Mulder shook himself and turned back to her.

"Take what out on him?"

"That your daughter is growing up and you're not ready. You look like you did the night she went to prom with Derek Smead."

Mulder looked completely affronted.

"He didn't even come to the house! He just had the limo honk and she ran out the door. You didn't get any pictures! Who does that? No self-respecting gentleman. I honestly still don't believe he's a real person."

Scully chuckled again. "And she left him at the dance after an hour and took the limo with five friends to the Sonic drive-in. She's got a good head on her shoulders, Mulder."

"I know she does."

"So what do you think? Is it safe to let her date?"

"I don't like it."

"I didn't ask if you liked it. I asked if you thought it was safe."

Mulder blew out a raspberry. Scully knew that he was thinking the same thing she was -- they'd let Will hang out with a few new friends so long as he was careful. Lily arguably had more common sense by nature of her age (and her gender, thought Scully). She would take precautions and employ the minimal tradecraft Mulder and Scully had taught her.

"What do you think?" Mulder asked her.

"I think she's 18 years old and we're lucky she even ran it by us. If she were away at school, she'd be making these decisions for herself."

Mulder's shoulders slumped.

"As long as she's careful," he finally said.

"I'll give her some condoms," Scully muttered, an offhand remark.

"Scully!" Mulder blanched.

"I just wanted to see the look on your face," Scully laughed.

Mulder shook his head and turned to walk out of the room.

Scully was still chuckling minutes later.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Hey Frisbee," said a voice from behind her.

Lily turned to see Travis standing several feet away in the middle of the footbridge. He was wearing black flip flops, a pair of long khaki shorts and a navy blue polo shirt. His hair -- dark tousled waves, cut short but shaggy -- was poking in all directions out of a  university ball cap, which, she was relieved to see, was pristinely white without a yellowing band of sweat or scuzz. His face looked freshly shaved and he was smiling.

"Hey yourself," she said, and took a step toward him.

He reached into his pocket as she approached and pulled out a ziplock sandwich bag, filled with a gritty grey substance. She took it with some hesitation.

"Is this... a bag of oatmeal?" she asked.

He colored and put both hands up.

"Okay, so: I was going to bring your flowers, but then I thought you know what would be cute? Flour . So I went to our pantry and I'm looking at this giant bag of flour and I'm like what the hell is she going to do with a giant bag of flour? And then I saw the oatmeal and thought -- well, we're meeting on the footbridge, we could feed the ducks! ...So I brought you oatmeal. Bread is bad for ducks."

Despite the lengthy diatribe, Lily laughed. "It was nice of you to think of the ducks," she said.

"Well," he said, and walked with her to the railing of the footbridge, which crossed the Red Cedar River. "The bag itself is multipurpose. If you think it'd be fun, I thought we could rent a canoe later and go down the river?"

"What does that have to do with the bag?" she asked, leaning over the railing and looking down into the tannin-tinted water. A cluster of ducks, trained to anticipate food, swam quickly toward them.

"We can put our phones in it," he said, leaning into her shoulder a little. "I myself have been through the gauntlet of canoe training at Camp Quitcherbitchin as a young lad, but you're an unknown quantity, Frisbee. What if you dunk us? I aim to save our electronics."

Lily laughed again, charmed despite herself. She opened the baggie and threw a handful of oats to the waiting ducks below, which scurried as fast as they could swim for the feast. Lily offered Travis some, and he took a handful and cast it out. They fed the ducks for a minute or so of comfortable silence.

Finally, Lily asked: "Camp Quitcherbitchin?"

Travis smiled.

"Sleep-away summer camp up north. I went every year. It's actually called Camp Nageesh, but some of the counselors were somewhat less than tolerant of complaints, so the campers called it Quitcherbitchin.”

Lily chuckled. "Canoes, huh?"

"Plus sailboats, swimming and archery. I refuse to divulge which I have a higher level of competency in, in case you're some kind of polymath with a competitive bent."

"You aren't one of those guys who can't stand it when a girl is better than you at something, are you?" Lily asked.

“Are you a polymath with a competitive bent?” Travis grabbed another handful of oatmeal and threw it toward a mother with a brood of ducklings that were having trouble getting into the mix.

“I’ve got some game,” Lily said, arching an eyebrow that would have made her mother proud.

"In that case," he said, turning toward her. His eyes were a mossy green, like her father's. He  gave her a small smile, “I look forward to being outmatched."

"Well," said Lily, intrigued. She scattered out the last bit of oatmeal and, blowing some of the grit from the bag, put her phone into it and handed it to Travis for him to do the same. "Let's see what you're made of, Paddles."

XxX

"We seem to be drifting a bit to starboard," Lily called over her shoulder. Travis had taken the backseat ("Do you mind if I steer?" he'd asked). They'd managed to board and push off okay -- the bored-looking livery attendant having given them minimal instruction, but held the craft as they both lifted themselves gingerly aboard.

"I'm aware of that," said Travis, his voice a little tense for the first time.

"You said you were steering," she teased him. They were rapidly making for the opposite shore of the river, the canoe swinging sideways with the current.

"I'm aware of that too," he said back, and then a moment later, she felt the canoe sway radically, followed by a splash. She grabbed the side of the craft for dear life and then swung her head to look behind her. Travis had jumped out of the canoe and was now holding it by the triangle at the stern with one hand, paddle in the other; halting their momentum, which had been about to take them into a bramble of cedar branches hanging low over the water.

"Oh my god!" Lily squeaked. "Are you okay? Did you fall?"

"I jumped," Travis said, "If you headed home with a rat's nest of cedar sprays in your hair, you might not go out with me again."

"And they say chivalry is dead," Lily said, setting her oar down on the bottom of the canoe.

"Will you go out with me again?" Travis said hopefully, and the smile he flashed her made her want to say yes, but instead she teased:

"Too early to make that call."

"This water is really cold, Lillian," he said, and turned, pulling the canoe behind him into the water upstream and back toward the livery.

"It looks it," Lily said. "If I do go out with you again, let's stick with something land-based, huh?"

Travis threw a grin at her and kept trudging, clearly trying his best to keep the craft steady so she didn't fall in herself. She checked her pockets briefly for their phones, which she'd offered to hold on to, and watched him. The river was relatively shallow -- he was a tall guy and the water was only soaking the cuff of his shorts.

"Your parents should call Camp Quitcherbitchin and get their money back, Travis," she said, canting her face up to the sun and closing her eyes briefly. She shrieked when the canoe suddenly lurched to one side. She grabbed the side and looked at her date, who had stopped and was wearing a mischievous grin. He was still wearing the dorky orange life jacket that they'd been required to don, and the whole situation made Lily start laughing.

"Laugh it up, fuzzball," Travis said, turning again to continue the trudge back to base. "I'll have you know that I learned how to canoe on a lake. I forgot to account for one variable."

"The current?" Lily asked.

"The current," he admitted.

They made it back to shore and he helped her out of the canoe, explaining to the still benumbed livery worker that they wouldn't be back, but still throwing a soggy five dollar bill in the tip jar. After retrieving his flip flops from the bottom of the small boat, he offered to take Lily to the campus Dairy Store for ice cream.

"Your campus has a Dairy Store?" she asked him curiously.

"This is Moo U, Lillian," he explained, steering her a few blocks from the river to a large brick building beyond the main engineering hall. "This street is Farm Lane. We have cattle."

Once inside they reviewed the offerings, and Lily noticed that they had a flavor for every university in the Big Ten conference -- even their arch rivals. About which he announced, "I'll buy you anything but the Maize & Blueberry. I like you, but even I have my limits."

Once they had their cones (she with Boilermaker Brownie and he with Hoosier Daddy ("basically strawberry," he explained)), they settled onto a picnic table in the shade.

"So," Travis said, licking a drop that had melted onto his knuckle, "why'd you end up deferring this semester?"

Lily swallowed the bite in her mouth without chewing. They had prepared cover stories but she hadn't yet needed to use hers. Stick with the truth as much as you can , said her father's voice.

"My dad got a job here and my mom is pregnant. She was on bedrest for a while and needed help."

Travis was looking at her expectantly, clearly waiting for her to elaborate, but she didn't -- continuing to nervously lick her cone. After a long moment of waiting, he kindly plowed ahead, asking her about her major and telling her about his. He was a sophomore, from a town in the northern part of the state, and she found him inherently easy to talk to and interesting, and wondered, idly, if that was because he really was interesting or if she were just starved for company and attention.

When they finished up, they threw away their napkins in a nearby trash can and stood looking at each other, only a little awkwardly.

“So... “ Travis started, “still too early to make the call?”

She smiled, remembering what she’d told him in the canoe about going out with him again. “I like your chances.”

He smiled back and she felt a little thrill. “Lillian, will you go out with me again?” he asked.

“Dry land stuff?”

“The driest.”

“In that case, yes.”

She was still feeling the soft kiss he'd given her cheek hours later as she sat around the dining room table, fielding invasive questions from her father and trying to avoid her mother’s eye.

[waveypedia]

My good fellow could I possibly request some *ahem* fenro?

you totally can my dude! tysm!

(Can’t Get You) Outta My Head

Three forty-two AM.

It is three forty-two AM and Gyro’s brain is completely blank.

He lowers his head slowly into his awaiting palms. Blueprints swim behind his eyes. Even in his imagination, they make no sense.

He bangs his head gently on the desk through his hands. He has no ideas. No ideas. No ideas. No ide….

“Dr. Gearloose?”

Gyro jerks awake. He fumbles with his glasses and smooths down the wrinkles of his shirt in vain in an attempt to appear somewhat functional. To pretend he hadn’t just been sleeping at his desk on the job.

Oh, who was he kidding. This is Cabrera, the duck who had seen him chug six consecutive Redbulls and two pots of coffee in an attempt to stay awake for a week during crunch time on a project. There was no point in pretending.

Still, Gyro’s pride demanded that he not fall asleep during the conversation, so he slowly spun around in his desk chair to face his former intern and did his best to not drop his head in his hands. “Cabrera.”

The aforementioned duck stands in front of him, hands clasped behind his back, nervous energy radiating off of him. “Dr. Gearloose, you look…”

“Horrible?” Gyro supplies dryly. “Like death himself?”

“Eh, Mrs. Beakley showed me a picture of Death after training one day. He doesn’t look too bad,” Fenton says, offhandedly. Gyro is too tired to fully process what that means.

Gyro is losing his internal battle. His eyelids are drooping. He props up his hand up on the arm of his chair, and his internal battle only rages for a few seconds before his head falls into it. (It feels like utter hours.)

Fenton pauses from whatever tirade he’s about to launch into and reexamines Gyro with a new fervor. “Dr. Gearloose?”

“Mmph?” Gyro replies, too tired to come up with a coherent response. It’s hard enough to form his thoughts into strings of words and sentences that make sense to everyone else on a good day. Today, he’s too tired to come up with words in the first place.

“Are you sure you’re alright to keep working?” Fenton questions, a little bit hesitantly, but he knows his boss well by now. “I can get out the cot. O-or drive you home?”

Gyro blinks hazily up at Fenton. “You can drive?”

It’s not really what he intended to say, but it gets the focus off him and his energy level. Besides, Gyro can’t drive, so he tends to assume no one can until proven otherwise. It’s not his best trait; it’s just how his brain works.

Gyro realizes while he’s been processing his thoughts to himself, Fenton replied, and he has no idea what Fenton said.

Maybe that’s for the best. It’s not like he would be able to form an eloquent reply anyway.

“Dr. Gearloose,” Fenton says, a little more firmly this time. Maybe whatever Fenton said was important. “Gyro.”

“Hmm?” Gyro replies. His eyelids are slipping closed. They can’t close, he has to stay awake, he has to stay awake-!

“Ooohkay,” Fenton mutters, more to himself than to Gyro. Gyro doesn’t reply. At the silence, Fenton steps closer, closer, too close-! and kneels next to Gyro’s desk chair. He slips an arm around Gyro’s middle and starts to help him up.

Fenton, pressed against him, is soft and warm, and Gyro might fall asleep right then and there if not for the spurt of internal panic and adrenaline that comes with Fenton’s proximity. His figurative internal processor restarts panickedly, but it sputters and won’t function. Gyro is left with panic coursing through his body but unable to do anything about it. He just stares at the hazy, soft figure of Fenton. It takes every ounce of strength in his body to not lean his head on Fenton’s shoulder, no matter how soft and warm Fenton is, and how inviting his shoulder looks.

Gyro somehow lets Fenton haul him to his feet, and they take slow, wavering steps over to the cot at the end of the lab. At some point during all of this, Lil’ Bulb had hopped off of his charging station, grabbed a pair of snap glowsticks (where the hell did he get those?), and is leading them over like a traffic conductor.

As they reach their destination, Gyro’s brain suddenly kicks into high gear as he realizes what Fenton’s intentions are. “Wait! Waitwaitwaitwaitwait! I can’t sleep, Cabrera, I have a job to do-”

“You and I both know Mr. McDuck hates that we stay in here off the clock,” Fenton reprimands him, not shaken at all, and Gyro feels heat rushing to his cheeks. Cabrera is significantly less bumbling than he remembers, and when the hell did his awkward little intern become so comfortable with him?! 

Akita never would’ve-

Wait.

I will not be like Akita. I will not be like Akita. Akita was horrible to me, and Boyd. He is not a good role model. I will be a better mentor for my not-intern. I will not be like Akita.

It is with that thought in mind that Gyro refrains himself from struggling as Fenton eases him onto the chaise, and ohhh the chaise is so soft, nothing like his uncomfortable desk chair, and suddenly Gyro’s not regretting this as much as he thought he would.

The one thing he misses is Fenton’s warmth as his coworker eases away. Gyro resists the urge to shiver as he slides his glasses off his nose and puts them down next to his head. He’s pretty sure Fenton picks them up and puts them in a more secure place (good thinking), but his eyelids are already slipping closed and the fight to stay awake is long, long lost. 

The relationship that Akita and I had is nothing like the relationship Fenton and I have, anyway.

Gyro freezes. Panic shoots through his body. All thoughts of sleeping are now gone.

Where the hell did that thought come from?!

It’s true. Gyro won’t contest that. But it’s… it’s weird to think about his relationship with Fenton that way.

But he does miss Fenton’s body heat. Yes, that’s it. He’s cold. The lab is underwater, and the sterile lights are blinding. Not a good environment for sleep. Not homey and cozy. Fenton is.

“Fenton?” Gyro mumbles. Without his usual sharp precision, it comes out more like Fen-uhn, the way Huey says it.

Between Gyro’s fatigue and lack of glasses, Fenton is simply a mere brown blur. Gyro almost misses how the blur stiffens and startles at the sound of his voice. “Yes, Dr. Gearloose?”

Gyro suddenly realizes he doesn’t have the energy to translate the abstract idea of what he wants into words. He doesn’t even know what he wants. Just… Fenton. Fenton’s presence.

When Gyro doesn’t reply, Fenton comes over, worried. “Dr. Gearloose? Gyro? Oh what am I doing, he probably fell asleep.”

Gyro grumbles indignantly at that, making Fenton chuckle. The scientist hovers awkwardly at the edge of the cot, unsure. Gyro isn’t sure either, but he’s too damn tired to doubt himself.

Fenton starts and yelps with surprise when an arm shoots out from beneath Gyro’s lump of body mass (that’s exactly what he feels like right now) and wraps ungracefully around his waist, like a petulant cat. “Umm… Dr. Gearloose?”

Gyro mumbles again and tugs the lump of soft and warm in his arms closer.

“O-okay… um… I guess we’re doing this,” Fenton mumbles, more to himself than to Gyro. He sits down delicately on the chaise, on the very edge as to not disturb Gyro. No longer pulling Fenton towards him, Gyro’s arms sag and flop into Fenton’s lap. He no longer has the energy to pull Fenton in, but his arms still rest around Fenton all the same.

For a couple minutes, they sit like that. Fenton perched on the very edge of the cot, ready to jump off at any minute, but as the time passes he slowly relaxes into Gyro’s arms. 

It’s not enough for Gyro’s sleep-addled sense, and slowly, oh so slowly, he tugs Fenton just a little closer.

He doesn’t want to disturb Fenton, but also he’s tired, so so tired, too tired to be polite. Fenton is warm and soft, and that’s what Gyro wants.

So when Fenton doesn’t respond to his too-subtle tugging, he sighs and yanks Fenton into his arms.

Fenton squeaks with shock, but Gyro’s too tired to notice the social faux pas he’s just made. With Fenton close in his arms, he promptly falls asleep, Fenton still entangled in his unbreakable embrace.

Fenton slowly twists his head as far as it can go, trying to gauge Gyro’s level of wakefulness. After successfully deciphering that he probably can’t get up without disturbing Gyro, he lets out a soft sigh and relaxes into Gyro’s embrace.  

It’s… surprisingly comfortable. Not surprisingly. Fenton doesn’t know why he would be surprised. It makes sense. It’s almost four in the morning and he’s curled up on a chaise lounge with someone cuddling him.

But that someone is Dr. Gyro Gearloose, and that’s panic-inducing enough for Fenton on its own.

Fenton’s eyelids are drooping closed, and as he’s slipping into sleep’s waiting arms he recognizes the irony of him trying to get Gyro to go to sleep and falling asleep himself as well.

Manny comes into the lab promptly at seven AM, takes in the picture before him, and promptly leaves. But not before phoning Mr. McDuck and taking Lil’ Bulb out for a boys’ night on the town.

As for Mr. McDuck, he borrows Launchpad’s phone to snap a couple blackmail photos (which inexplicably get sent to Della, no she has no idea how that happened) before banging his cane against the wall.

“Oi! Wake UP!!! I’m paying you to work, not cuddle!! Bless me bagpipes…”

Scrooge leaves to do his own job and gets back to haggling with the Board, leaving the two very flustered scientists to sort themselves out.

Gyro buys time by fumbling around for his glasses, trying to hide the bright blush that colors his feathers. Luckily for Fenton, he can’t see the matching one on Fenton’s face.

“Here,” Fenton mumbles, passing the glasses to Gyro. “I put them on your desk.”

“Thanks,” Gyro replies, stilted. “That was… nice of you.”

They both know he’s not only thinking about the glasses.

“Should we… I don’t know, talk about this?” Fenton guesses, rubbing a hand awkwardly along the side of his arm. His usually meticulously ironed tie is wrinkled and rumpled like he just got out of a fight or an experiment, but the day has barely started.

Gyro rubs at his eyes under his glasses, still blinking sleep away. “I don’t know… I barely remember what happened. I was at my desk, and… an’ you helped me to the chaise, I think…?”

“Yeah, that sounds right,” Fenton replies. After a beat, he continues, hesitantly and warily. “And then… you, you, um, hugged me. And wouldn’t let go.”

Gyro’s head snaps up, panic sparking in his gut. “I- Huh?”

“Yeah.” Fenton rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. He won’t meet Gyro’s gaze. “You’ve, um, got an awful tight grip when you’re sleeping.”

“I… um… thanks?” Gyro hedges. The cards did not cover this. 

He takes a deep breath.

“Listen, Cabrera,” he begins. “I… it’s not always easy to fall asleep here. Especially on that couch. It always feels so… exposed.”

Silence hangs heavy in the air for a few moments before Gyro continues.

“I guess… you made me feel safe enough to fall asleep. So… thank you.”

Fenton’s been working for and with Gyro far long enough to know that thank-yous, second only to apologies, are not easy for the scientist to get out. So it means even more. He ducks his head awkwardly, hiding his blush. “Um, you’re welcome. It was actually really nice.”

“Yeah,” Gyro echoes softly, fondly, then freezes, wishing he could take the words back. But when he chances a slow glance up at Fenton’s face, the duck doesn’t look all too bothered by the sentiment. 

“So… what now?” Fenton wonders, half to himself. None of his M’ma’s telenovas or his superhero comics from boyhood ever taught him what to do in these kinds of moments.

“Get back to work, I suppose,” Gyro shrugs, although he’s not very enthusiastic. Truthfully, he’d much rather spend his day cuddling with Fenton - which is saying something, since Gyro’s one true passion is inventing. “We don’t want Mr. McDuck to come down here and yell at us again.”

“Yeah,” Fenton replies, disappointed. He slowly turns away, gathering up his blueprints from where he scattered them a few hours ago. 

One of his blueprints is currently residing on Gyro’s desk. Fenton saves that one for last, not wanting to face more awkward moments. But once all the rest of his blueprints are safely piled on his desk in the former bathroom, he has to face the music.

Fenton takes a deep breath and strides up to Gyro’s desk.

Gyro had been massaging his temples, trying to fend off a headache, but he glances up at Fenton. He’s not annoyed like he usually is when Fenton interrupts him, but doesn’t look happy, either.

“Cabrera,” Gyro breathes. Maybe he is annoyed. “What do you need?”

To Fenton’s credit, he has every intention to simply grab his blueprint and go. Today would become a moment he’d tuck away in his brain, trying to forget it and cherishing it at the same time. 

But instead, some other desire takes over. 

When it’s done, he can’t explain his actions, but he doesn’t regret them, either.

Fenton reaches for his blueprint, which is right by Gyro’s hands. Then he stops. 

His hands turn to Gyro’s instead, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s pulled Gyro into a kiss.

It’s already happening when Fenton finally processes exactly what is going on. Gyro’s eyes are blown wide behind his glasses, but neither of them pull away. At least, not right away.

When they do, Fenton’s hair is ruffled and Gyro is gaping like a fish. His mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out.

Fenton doesn’t say anything either. Neither of them know what to say. They just keep staring at each other.

Gyro was never too comfortable with silence, though, not like this. At long last, the inventor clears his throat. “Um. So.”

Fenton’s brain kickstarts at the sound of Gyro’s voice, hesitant and shocked, and immediately a million apologies fly to the tip of his tongue. But they never get a chance to see the light of day.

“I could get used to that,” Gyro mumbles, then immediately snaps his hands over his bill, slamming it shut. But the damage is done.

If the two scientists weren’t blushing before, they definitely are now.

“Me too,” Fenton replies before he can stop himself. The corners of Gyro’s bill quirk up in the faintest of smiles, just for a moment.

This time Gyro’s the one to grab Fenton by the tie and pull him close for a second round.

~

okay this is all over the place haha but i just kinda wanted to get it done! it was supposed to be for fenro week, but that’s over now, so oh well. i might try to do something for weblena week since that’s happening now but idk.

definitely projecting a lil on gyro here with the bit about not being able to directly translate your thoughts into words that other people understand all the time, and how it gets worse when you’re tired. gyro definitely reads as neurodivergent to me, and i hc him as autistic (projecting lol), so that’s how i write him! i had a conversation today with some friends about kins and hcs today and one of my friends reads him as adhd, which is totally valid too. he’s definitely neurodivergent coded.

idk where i was going with that lol but enjoy!

title is from outta my head by somi. it’s not really all that relevant to the fic itself but it just kinda stuck with me while i started the fic. anyway i hope you like it! @fenro-week