#i tried to chill with them like nothing happened but

[nyc-pizza-rat]

saw @bloodydeanwinchester's tags on this post so

*TW: SUICIDE IDEATION TYPICALLY DISCUSSED IN RELATION TO THIS EPISODE PLS TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES*

dean's always hated being stabbed. god, he'd have taken a bullet to his head over this any day. what's one last thing that doesn't go his way, he thinks.

it's uncomfortable, is the thing. the hurt, he'll take it. it's nothing he doesn't deserve, nothing he hasn't had before. but the feeling of metal slicing your innards, it's a bitch of a thing. you can never get used to it.

Atleast, he thinks, Sam's here. Atleast, he's able to say goodbye. Atleast he's not alone.

His nerves are all alight, pain painting him bright from the inside, but dean can feel the finality of this burst. it's all too fast and too slow, all at once. dean thinks about being four and the sharp sunlight waking him in his room, his sheets with hot wheels on them. he thinks about baby's headlights shining through thin motel curtains. thinks about....about angels and gods and all that blue light behind his own eyes. he thinks if this is how.. how cas felt, when dean had been stupid and cowardly , when he'd let Lucifer get to him, that night in Washington. he wonders if his soul feels like this too, all sharp angels and live current. he wonders what cas ever saw in him, why he ever tried to save him, even in hell. wishes he could see him, one last time. that wouldn't have been all that terrible.

Still, he thinks. Sam's here. Sam's here. Sam's okay.

he jolts into himself, and realizes that he's been talking, that he's been saying something to sam. he doesn't even know. dean is unraveling. he can feel his body emptying, the slickness of blood at his back.

he grabs at his brother, fists a hand in his chest. Sam's face is twisted in sorrow. Fuck. I love you, little guy, he thinks. then, fuck, don't let me go. i don't want to go. shit's never happened the way he wanted it to, but this is something else. Atleast. well, atleast he's gonna end up in the empty. that's what Billie promised him, right? Atleast he'll be with cas.

Still, Still. he's only human, and he's drowning in his own blood, can smell it, can taste it, it's everywhere, it's —

"I need you to.... to tell me... that it's okay," he says, and his voice comes out trembling, panicked. terrified. God. "I need you to tell me that it's okay."

his brother turns away from him, and dean can't hear him over the ringing in his ears, but he knows the stubborn bastard, the way his shoulders lift. God. God. Cas.

"Look at me," he pleads. "I need... I need..." he can't breathe. god, he can't breathe. "Please, Sam. I need you to tell me that it's okay."

Sam's face swims to the front of his line of sight, all warped like it's on the other side of a fishbowl. dean clutches at his brother harder. tries to, anyway. he's so tired. he's so fucking tired.

his fingers slip.

Something warm, and sam holds him in place.

"Dean...," and in another world, dean would've made fun of the blubbering mess he's become. would've teased him for caring so much about his stupid older brother. "it's okay. It's okay. i— I got you."

it's crazy, dean thinks, that it helps. the tone of his brother's voice. his face, even warped and cracking open with grief. dean raised this kid, and it was a bitch of a job, and man, did he hate it at times, but look at sam now. he did good. he did so good. he did —

dean goes under like he's being put to sleep. almost easy, almost soft. Thanks, he thinks, the last coherent thought in his head. Thanks, kid.

~

He wakes up on a road. The sun shines down bright like it's the start of summer, and there's this pleasant warmth in the air. the world around him is golden, stretching into the horizon on flat land where it meets the brown mounds of the black hills. dean blinks up at the mountains, a strange chill crawling down his spine.

"You're here early," a familiar voice says, and dean turns to find himself standing in front of Bobby's porch. light's drenched this whole place, too, making the wood panelling look blond. Bobby's fucking smiling. Shit. Shit.

dean's starting to feel disoriented, almost.

"And what's 'here' supposed to be, exactly?"

Bobby frowns, his smile slipping. he looks at dean like he's a right fool. "Heaven, dean," he says. "where else'd you think you'd go?"

dean thought.... Fuck. there's a strange emptiness pushing at the inside of dean's skin. he feels like he's been put together upside down. Billie.... Billie....

Billie's in the empty, and fuck. maybe grudges don't get passed down to the new death. fuck. fuck.

Dean stumbles to the porch steps, crumples on them when he can't go further. Absently, he's aware of Bobby moving behind him, the creaking of his rocking chair, his footsteps on the wood.

he stares out at the grass, the outline of the mountains, the clear blue sky. it's beautiful. it's nothing. it's empty. fuck. fuck. what the hell is dean supposed to do now. without — what the hell is he supposed to do?!

Bobby's hand is warm on his shoulder. dean feels small, the way he leans into it, the way he kinda wants to cry.

"what's wrong, dean?" Bobby asks, and his voice is all wrong , like he's tried to scrape the gruffness out of it and badly. dean could laugh. but. fuck. fuck.

why the hell is he here? why is he here?!

he swallows. shit's never really gone his way in life, so why would it in death? he swallows again. says, "i don't know, Bobby."

Me, he thinks. I'm what's wrong.

"i don't know."

[lunarmoves]

who i see, looking back at me (ch3)

pairing: sebastian solace x reader

mentions: post-urbanshade fic, no use of y/n or pronouns, u are his partner <3, hallucinations, non-sexual intimacy, yearning the yearning!!, touch aversion, hurt/comfort, tentative reconnecting, mild dissociating :)

a/n: i lied btw, there are now 5 chapters instead of 4. if u guys see the number increase again, know it was against my will. the characters do whatever tf they want, apparently. anyways, this chapter simultaneously feels like so much happens and also nothing at all. have fun!

word count: 12.3k+

masterlist | part two

ao3 link

You dreamt of a face, looming over your own as you laid supine on something soft. 

Everything felt muddled—like you were sunk deeply underwater and still continued onward in your neverending descent. Details eluded you. Any sharp edges or angles were softened into nebulous clouds of seafoam green and teal, with light that gently painted the planes of your face in a tender touch. A quiet pressed along the sides of your head, stifling in its presence. You could not move. You were weighed down by something you could not define, your vision hazy and unfocused. 

When you closed your eyes, the backs of your eyelids felt like they were awash in blue. Blue, blue, blue. Infinite, it seemed. Just like the ocean, a distant part of you thought.

You breathed in and out. Calm. Quiet. Then, you opened your eyes. Properly, this time.

The ceiling of your room was coated in shadows broken apart only by a fragile light coming from your slightly parted curtains. You stared, gaze half-lidded, up at it. Not really seeing it. Not really processing. Distantly, you could feel the pull of sleep once more. But you could not bring yourself to return to it. Could not manage to fall back into a slumber even if you tried. 

So you dragged yourself up until you were sitting in bed, blanket sprawled across your legs. Your upper body slumped like you were a puppet cut from its strings. And you just stared forwards. 

Sebastian—fake Sebastian, not real Sebastian—stared back. 

You didn’t move a muscle. You only watched him—unblinking, eyelids heavy like they were weighed. There was something rooting you to your bed, a heavy pit in your gut that made it difficult to do anything other than stare. 

It was quiet. So, very, quiet. 

“Why are you still here?” you murmured after what felt like hours and hours of sitting there. Dawn had long passed, the bright light of the sun poking its way into your room to splay across the floor. You blinked slowly at him—nonchalant as he was where he stood across from the foot of your bed all this time.

His gaze lowered as his smile widened to show off each and every one of his teeth. It was not a kind look. A chill ran its fingers down your spine. 

“You know why,” was all he said. He continued to stare at you, his hands tucked inside his pockets. Waiting, almost. Maybe even expectantly. 

Your jaw tensed and when you swallowed, you could feel the dryness of your throat. Your gaze flicked over to your closed bedroom door, then back at him again. You did not like this.

“I’m working on it,” you whispered, momentarily closing your eyes so you could grip at the unsteady pieces of yourself and pull them together. Even now, you could still see all that blue, etched into your eyelids. Blue and gray and gray and blue. Soft and unfamiliar. 

You sighed—long and deep and vaguely unsteady. Then you turned away. 

Scrubbing a hand down your face, you rolled your shoulders and leaned over to grab your phone from the nearby nightstand. Clicking it on, you squinted down at the time. Shit. If you didn’t get a move on, you’d be late for work. You slipped out of bed, bare feet coming into contact with the cool floor. There was a certain grogginess that still lingered in your body and mind. You yawned and rubbed at your eye as you shuffled over to your door. But before you could open it, you hesitated and took a moment to listen beyond it. 

There was nothing. Not a peep or a shift. Looking down at the crack between the door and the floor, you saw only darkness. No faint light seeping through it—like there wasn’t anyone there. Doubt was beginning to sink its unrelenting tendrils into your body. It was so easy to imagine that the room just past your bedroom door was vacant. That there was only your couch and your television and your coffee table. Still and lifeless. A breath being held before the inevitable chaos of morning. 

But no, you told yourself again and again and again. This was real. If you closed your eyes, you could still feel the cool, hard texture of Sebastian’s hand in yours. The smooth metal of his ring as you ran your thumb over it. This was real, and you would keep repeating it to yourself for as long as it took to properly settle in.

You sighed, long and silent. Well, the day wasn’t going to wait for you to start. 

Gripping at the doorknob, you quietly cracked the door open and squinted into the dim light of your living room. It was darker than usual—an explanation made imminent when you glanced at your windows to see their curtains had all been tightly closed. You could still see sunlight fighting to make its way through the thin material, so it wasn’t like it was completely dark. You just had not expected it, really. 

Turning your gaze back towards the contents of the room, you noticed Sebastian had moved some things around. Not by much. The couch was pushed back a little and the coffee table was off to the side of the television instead of in front of it. All to make space for Sebastian’s large body—tightly coiled as it was in the spot between the couch and television. 

You lingered curiously for a moment over the way his tail looped around like a snake to form a makeshift bed for him. And when you finally glanced over to his face, you saw that he was already watching you. Something in your gut jumped slightly when you made eye contact with him. Over his head like some sort of shawl was the blanket you’d gotten him last night—a defense against the yawning sunlight, most likely. 

“Good morning,” you greeted to break the silence, though soft enough to not disturb the sleepy morning atmosphere. 

“G’mornin’,” he murmured back at you, lifting himself up from his tail to squint blearily at you through the dim. His voice was raspy and deep with the edge of sleep. Fatigue. It made something in your stomach twinge. 

He raised himself up, dropping the pillow he’d been hugging to stretch out his arms—strange to look at, honestly, with three of them attached to his torso—and tugged at the lure on his head to turn it on. You shuffled over to the bathroom to brush your teeth in the meantime and found yourself wondering if you should offer him a toothbrush. Not that it would do much, you thought to yourself as you ran the small bristles along your teeth. His teeth were large and sharp—jutting in his mouth like the jagged edge of a mountain. The teeth of a predator. 

And wasn’t that strange to think about? You suppressed a shiver. 

You supposed it wouldn’t hurt to give him one, even though you were sure he’d probably have a difficult time holding the tiny thing in his hand. Might even accidentally break it, honestly. 

After you finished refreshing up in the bathroom, you exited it and caught his eye almost immediately. He watched you in a nearly lazy manner, head propped atop a hand from where he was using his tail as a rest of sorts. 

You jutted your thumb behind you at the bathroom. “There should be spare toothbrushes in the cabinet if you want to use one.” 

Sebastian blinked at you slowly, then opened his mouth to purposely run a light blue tongue over the front of his teeth. He smacked his lips together and gave you a look. 

“Don’t think you got anything that can deal with these nasty things,” he said dryly. You rolled your eyes at his response. 

“It’s better than nothing,” you replied with a shrug and turned to shuffle back over to your bedroom to grab your work clothes. “You can at least use some mouthwash.” He only hummed after you, not moving an inch even as you could feel him continuing to follow you with his gaze. 

Your clothes were thrown on in record time and you grabbed your work bag from the back of your bedroom door to head over to the kitchen. Rubbing at your chin, you opened the refrigerator and took a moment to peer at its contents. You had enough leftovers for another day, but that wasn’t accounting for Sebastian and his… larger form. You glanced over at your sink and saw that there were no dirty dishes in there from last night. It didn’t seem like he had eaten anything. You frowned. Maybe you should go grocery shopping.  

“I think I’m gonna go to the store after work,” you called out at him as you grabbed ingredients for a quick sandwich to make for your lunch. “Anything you want in particular?” 

There was a thoughtful hum—so low and close that you jumped slightly and looked over your shoulder to find that he had followed you into the kitchen. He loomed almost directly behind you, his hair slightly mussed from the blanket he’d had over his head. How you hadn’t heard him slip into the tiny space, you would never know. 

He seemed to hesitate as you watched him, your arms full of bread and condiments. Then, “Actually, can you grab me a burger and a pack of Marlboros?” 

You paused, processing his request in your mind. “Sure,” you eventually said, nudging the refrigerator’s door closed with your hip. Grocery shopping could wait for another day. “We can do takeout for dinner, I suppose. But…” It was your turn to hesitate, and as you took in the way he clasped two of his hands together—not quite able to meet your gaze—you felt your eyebrows crease. “You… still smoke?” You didn’t think he’d have access to cigarettes in a, well, underwater facility. It’d certainly force him to quit cold turkey.

He shrugged idly as you headed over to the tiny kitchen table to dump all your ingredients on it and start slapping together a simple sandwich. “Yeah, sometimes I was able to get a pack when they upgraded my living arrangements,” he said vaguely, his eyes focused on your hands. He turned to look out at the living room. “Helps take the edge off, y’know?” 

Your head bobbed in some semblance of understanding, even as your lips pulled down in a frown. “Well, okay,” you told him warily, briefly glancing up at him. “Just… try not to make it a habit, alright?” Again, you mentally added.

He snorted and suddenly seemed very interested in toying with his lure. “Right.” 

Your sandwich was made and packed neatly away into your bag. The ingredients were put back in their proper locations. You did a final pat down to make sure you had everything, then slipped out of the kitchen with a banana clutched in your hand as a meager breakfast. You had to scoot around the thick curls of Sebastian’s tail, the muscles just under his scales shifting as he moved to accommodate for your path. You didn’t want to step over him. Everything seemed so cramped, all of a sudden, and you weren’t sure how that made you feel exactly. 

No use deliberating it now. You were running late. 

“Again, help yourself to anything,” you told him as you tugged on a light jacket by the front door and bent down to make quick work of your shoes. “I’ve got some books laying around if you’re bored and the T.V. remote should be somewhere if you wanna watch something.” 

“I think I’ll manage,” you heard him reply, his voice low and amused. 

You exhaled through your nose. Straightening up, you fixed your clothing—doing a final check of your reflection in a mirror you had hanging on the wall near the door—then finally looked towards him.

Him, Sebastian. As he curled in front of you a short distance away after following behind you like an ever present shadow. Hands clasped together with his half-lidded gaze and golden lure gently illuminating the space around you. 

(“I’m out for work!” Sebastian called, his voice echoing through your apartment to reach where you were in the bedroom.

“Okay!” you called back, preoccupied with picking out what you were going to wear for the day. Hmm, beige or burgundy? “Be safe!” 

There was a beat of silence. Then:

“Um, excuse me,” Sebastian’s disembodied voice said dryly. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” 

You snorted and rolled your eyes as you set your clothes down on the bed. Exiting the room, you met his expectant look with your own amused one while you walked over to him waiting by the door. 

He bent down closer towards you once you stopped in front of him, raven hair framing the sides of his face. Your hands found the collar of his jacket, where you fixed it properly so that one of the flaps wasn’t raised. Honestly, how did he not notice it before? There was a mirror on the wall right next to the door.

“Bye,” you told him purposely, tilting your head back so you could press a kiss to his waiting lips. He tasted faintly of nicotine and frozen waffles—a rather… interesting combo, you supposed. You could feel the way he smiled smugly against your mouth. He hummed into the kiss, and you broke away to give him a small grin. “That better?” 

“Much, thank you,” he replied, a certain twinkle to his gaze as he stared adoringly down at you. His cheek dimpled on his right. “And don’t you ever forget again. There’ll be a price to pay and I’m afraid you won’t like it.” He paused, then shrugged. “Or maybe you will.”

“Oh shut up.” You slapped lightly at his chest and shoved him towards the door with a laugh.) 

You took a deep breath. In, then out. Silent. It felt like an infinity resided in the few seconds you both stood there. Waiting.

Your lips pressed together, and you eventually gave him a small, unsure smile. 

“…Bye,” you said, opening the door to let in a small stream of sunlight. His eyes squinted slightly at it, but you found you couldn’t quite look at him. How the tables have turned. “Be back later.” 

The light of his lure dimmed slightly. “Have a good day,” he murmured with a gentle wave of his third arm, something indescribable to his gaze that you couldn’t quite make out before the door had already been shut in his face. 

Your stomach churned, upset and tight. 

As you drove to work, you just couldn’t get that image out of your head. Sebastian, in the middle of your tiny living room. Too large. Too much. His body held in a way where he seemed to be pulled towards you, yet also…. not. Subtle enough that any less observant person would not have noticed. 

You sighed, a deep and long thing that did nothing to ease the tension lining your shoulders. 

Work was busy, not allowing you to sink too deeply into your thoughts as you darted around the clinic. A reprieve, almost, from the events of the last couple of days. You were grateful, but by the end of your shift, you were back at square one. Always, your mind drifted back to him. Him, him, him. You knew nothing else. 

Standing on line at the nearest fast food joint, you stared unfocused at the menu displayed on a small flat screen television behind the counter. How much did he even need to eat now anyways? You weren’t entirely sure, but even the size of his torso was so much more that you were certain it was nowhere near the amount you ate on a daily basis. Were there things he couldn’t eat anymore? Were there things he was partial to? There was a conversation to be had, especially if you were to go grocery shopping sometime in the not-so-distant future. You didn’t want to poison him by accident or something. 

When it was your turn to order, you got a sandwich and fries for yourself. For Sebastian, you bought a triple decker burger, then—after pondering it with furrowed brows—you ordered another. And two extra large fries. And a couple bottled drinks. Hopefully it would be enough for now. If not then, well, he could raid your kitchen.  

After a quick run into a convenience store for the rest of his requested items, you started on your way home. The drive was quick, the golden glow of the sun dipping to kiss the horizon casting itself gently through the windshield of your car. You pulled into the gravelly driveway of your cottage and grabbed your bags from the passenger seat. Then, you locked up your car and bustled over to your front door. The curtains you could see just behind the front-facing windows were still tightly drawn. 

As you unlocked the door, you called out an “I’m home!” and shuffled properly inside. Silence greeted you. Closing the door was like pinching the flame of a candle to douse it, a fragile darkness taking over. You looked around, blinking in an attempt to get your eyes to adjust faster. 

You could just make out Sebastian’s form coiled in front of the couch. He was staring down at something in his hands, but you couldn’t quite make out what, exactly. Toeing off your shoes, you gently placed your work bag on the ground next to them and picked your way over to him. 

“Sebastian?” you murmured, your hands gripping at the fast food bag as you came to a stop somewhere to his right. Faintly, there was the smell of fish. It felt like you were standing in a bubble that resided outside of time—if you even exhaled too loudly it would pop and the moment would be lost forever. 

His ear fin twitched slightly, and his head jerked like he was glancing at you from the corner of his eye before looking back down at his hands. You waited for him to speak, your gaze trained on the side of his face—unreadable as it was. 

“What’d you keep this old thing for?” he eventually rasped out. You peered down at his hands to see he was holding onto the flannel you usually kept hanging on the back of your bedroom door. You hadn’t touched it in… a while. But it still hung there, unwilling as you were to pack it away out of sight. His thumbs smoothed over the checkered fabric. “Hardly seems worth saving.” 

“It was your favorite,” you replied simply as you continued to observe him. He only grunted. The faint glow from his eyes looked airbrushed along his hands and arms. It made you feel as though you were underwater. You found yourself adding, “I kept some other things, too.” 

“Did you, now?” He hummed and shot you a sharp grin. “Couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried, huh?” It was a weak attempt at a joke, you knew. 

“No,” you told him, gaze softening. “Never could.” 

Sebastian exhaled, long and faint and vaguely unsteady. You held your hand out, and after one long, contemplative moment, he gently dropped the flannel onto your palm—his grip nearly mechanical as he released it. Your fingers curled into the soft clothing. 

“Here,” you said as you offered him your other hand holding onto the fast food bag. “Go set the table. I’ll be there in a minute.” 

He cleared his throat and carefully took the bag from your grip. With an unoccupied hand, he gave you a salute. “Yoooouuu got it, boss!” There was a cheer to his voice that you knew was forced, but you didn’t point it out.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and slowly made your way to your room, a soothing light flickering on behind you from Sebastian tugging on his lure. Well, at least you wouldn’t have to worry about your light bill now, you thought wryly to yourself. Shaking your head slightly, you hung the flannel back in its designated spot. Then, you beelined straight for your closet and spent a bit digging around until you located that box of Sebastian’s things. Unsealed and unassuming. You shifted it around in your hold, drumming your fingers along the cardboard thoughtfully. 

When you arrived at the kitchen, you saw that Sebastian had neatly laid out everything from the bag onto the wooden table. Wrapped sandwiches, cartons of fries, bottles of drinks. In one of his hands resided the pack of cigarettes that you had tucked into the bag after purchasing them from the store. The accompanying lighter you got for them was in his other hand, and he rotated it around idly for a moment before pocketing it and the Marlboros in his jacket. 

You noticed he had moved one of the chairs away from the table to take its spot, his tail coiled underneath him. You guessed it was just easier for him to avoid any furniture at all, given his size. Especially a small table chair like that. You walked over and set the box down on an unoccupied surface of the table. 

“It’s not much,” you said as you pushed it slightly towards him. His gaze flicked down to eye the partially open flaps. “But well… I just couldn’t give them away.” 

“What’d you end up doing with all my stuff anyways?” he asked curiously as you wandered over to the sink to wash your hands—stepping carefully around his tail occupying the space of your kitchen. There was a light shifting sound as he poked around in the box that stopped almost as soon as it had started. The light illuminating the kitchen dimmed ever so slightly. His tail twitched behind him.

“Sold them,” you replied as casually as you could, drying off your hands and making your way back to the table. “Or donated. Gave your mom some things too.” 

As you sat down, Sebastian lowered himself so that he wouldn’t tower over you from where he was positioned across the table. It didn’t do much. You still felt like you were sitting before a minor giant, forced to lean back in your seat lest you strained your neck looking up at him. You had to suppress a frown. He tapped his fingers atop the table’s surface. You noticed the box was no longer sitting where you’d originally placed it. In fact, he had set it on the ground—out of sight, out of mind. You did not acknowledge it. 

“Did you give her my guitar?” he asked, maybe a little hopefully, but you shook your head. He frowned. “My Xbox?” Another shake of your head. “Damn. Lucas didn’t want them?” 

“Nope.” 

“My most prized possessions,” he complained, crossing his arms over his chest. “Gone, just like that.” 

“My bad,” you said dryly, reaching out to grab your sandwich and unwrap it. “I should’ve known to keep them for when you would obviously return.” 

He clicked his tongue. “Shame on you for not having the foresight to do so, honestly.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh shut up and eat your food.” 

He smirked and grabbed one of his sandwiches. Even a triple decker seemed so small in his hold. How was that supposed to satisfy him? You frowned into your sandwich as you took a bite, trying not to make it obvious you were watching him as he carefully tore off the wrapping with the tips of his fingers.

He held the burger close to his face, peering at it with half-lidded eyes. “I don’t even remember the last time I had a burger,” he murmured and turned it this way and that. Inspecting it thoughtfully. Some of the mayonnaise slapped into it seeped out of the sides as his grip tightened.    

The glow of his lure was like a spotlight as it illuminated everything beneath it. You and him, crowded around your little table in your little kitchen. Nothing else existed outside of it. How strange, you mulled to yourself. You could feel something stir in the pit of your stomach—following the haze of a distant memory that felt just a tad too out of reach. 

You hummed, eyeing his upper body as he finally took a bite that was large enough to demolish half of his burger at once. A lithe torso with lithe limbs attached to it. A looseness to his clothing. Even a gauntness to his face if you paid close enough attention to it past his scarf. The implications of it all settled around your neck like a noose. 

“What did they even feed you?” you wondered, gesturing at him slightly with your partially eaten sandwich. He did not tell you much, in hindsight, about his time trapped underwater. What he did on a day-by-day basis. It was purposeful, but still, you were morbidly curious.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re assuming they fed me at all,” he said as he grinned that shark-toothed grin of his.

You paused to take in his words, then felt yourself give him a concerned look. Worry creased your eyebrows together. His grin faltered minutely—so minute, in fact, that you almost thought it hadn’t at all. 

“Kidding!” he exclaimed suddenly, his eyes crinkling and smile stretching in a way that did not reassure you one bit. “I’m kidding! It was mostly fish.” You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. It only made your frown deepen. You were doing that a lot tonight, it seemed.

“…Right,” you said, unconvinced. You nibbled on a fry, the salt deliciously coating your tongue. “I’m guessing you’re pretty sick of it, then.” Mentally, you crossed fish off your list of foods to buy at the grocery store. 

“You have no idea,” he muttered sullenly, polishing off the rest of his burger and reaching for the second. There was a glob of mayonnaise on his cheek. Your gaze softened. 

(“Baby,” you said amusedly, watching him shovel the last bits of dinner into his mouth. There was marinara sauce all over his mouth. “You’re a mess.” 

“Well that’s just rude,” he huffed, eyeing you haughtily, “you don’t see me attacking you outta nowhere like that.” 

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You picked up a napkin from the holder in the middle of the table and gestured at him. “Come here.” 

He tilted his head at you but complied, leaning in closer across the table. You carefully wiped at his mouth, running the napkin tenderly over his lips and chin. You made sure not to tug too harshly on his lip ring; he’d told you before that it still bled pretty easily. He watched you with all the focus in the world, his gaze trained on your face. And when you deemed him clean enough, you gave him a little smile and tapped at the tip of his nose with your finger. His eyes crossed to look at the motion.

“There,” you said, satisfied, as you leaned back in your seat. “All clean.” 

He mirrored your movement, then set his chin on top of his fist as his eyes crinkled warmly at you. “Can’t get enough of me, can you?” He grinned sharply. 

You only grinned back. “Not really, no.”)

“You’ve got a little—” You gestured to your face. When all he did was blink at you rather obliviously, you huffed out a little laugh and grabbed a napkin. For a moment—a short, inconsequential moment—you hesitated. Then, you offered it to him. “Here.” 

He looked down at your hand. And after another short, inconsequential moment, he reached out so he could take it, extra cautious to ensure his claws didn’t catch on your fingers. “Thanks,” he mumbled and wiped at his face. You only offered him a smile. 

“So!” You snagged another couple of fries, ready to push all of… that behind you. “Anything you can or cannot eat? I’m thinking of doing groceries tomorrow.” 

He hummed thoughtfully, his third hand’s fingers tapping at the table while his other two focused on unwrapping his other burger. “Not really, no. Surprisingly I kept most of my ah, digestive abilities, you could say,” he told you dryly. “Although, I seem to crave more of a, mmmm, meat heavy diet.” He smiled strangely and took a bite of his sandwich. 

“Meat heavy, got it.” You took a mental note of that. “Got any food requests, then?”

“Completos,” he said immediately, looking at you rather intently. “God, fuck, I’ve never craved anything so badly. Barros Lucos, too.”

You nodded, adding all the ingredients you would need to your list. Hot dogs, avocados, tomatoes… “Anything else?” 

The two of you spent a while coming up with meals to make over the next few weeks—which essentially amounted to Sebastian listing things he had missed or wanted with the faintest of rasps to his voice. Spaghetti, butter chicken, quesadillas. You had to grab your phone so you could make a proper list or you’d forget it all. With each one, you could feel your heart sinking deeper and deeper into your chest. An ache you were all too familiar with reared its ugly head. And you didn’t know how to deal with it. 

At one point, though—while telling you the ingredients so he could make Charquicán—something seemed to shift within him. You weren’t sure what happened. Only that he quieted down and took on a more… ruminative air. You didn’t press him when it occurred. You just offered a few other options for meals, then let a silence settle between you both as you finished up your meals. 

Eventually, though, you decided to gently prod him. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

Sebastian slowly blinked down at the table. Then, his eyes seemed to flick up towards you and off to the side. He snorted out a laugh, but you could tell it was half-hearted. “Gonna take a lot more than a penny for them,” he tried humorlessly. When you only patiently waited for him to continue, he sighed and his third arm wrapped itself around his abdomen. 

He avoided your gaze, raven hair partially covering his face. “Do you… still talk to my mom?” 

Ah. That explained it. Your tongue suddenly felt dry in your mouth. “I do. Your siblings, too.” 

His head snapped towards you, and for one split second—he looked hopeful. His mouth opened, then closed. And he hesitated, expression scrunching slightly as his hands fidgeted with each other. 

You took the chance to gently ask, “Do you… want to see them?”

“I— of course I do. Is that even a question?” he blurted, then seemed to reel himself back in. He looked apprehensive, his lips pressing together. “It’s just… I…” he trailed off. Unwilling to voice the thoughts that swirled around in his head. It didn’t take a genius to guess what they revolved around. 

“It doesn’t have to be right away,” you told him in a soothing manner. “Lucas won’t be free until next month anyways. I can invite them over around then. We have time.” 

“Right,” he forced out. He twisted the ring around his finger. “Right. Yeah.” 

“Yeah,” you echoed back at him. And after taking in his closed off demeanor—his reluctance to fully face you—you decided a distraction was in order. “Alright, how about we watch a movie?” 

He agreed—lost in thought as he was—and you shooed him off to the living room while you cleaned up in the kitchen. You set the chairs back in place at the table and noticed the box was gone from where Sebastian had placed it on the ground. And when you walked over to join him by the couch, you saw that he was holding that panda plushie in one of his hands. The box sat innocently on your coffee table, flaps wide open. His thumb ran repeatedly over the plushie’s short fuzz, a distant look on his face. 

You grabbed the remote and plopped yourself down on the side of the couch he wasn’t sitting in front of. His tail curved out to the side so that it wouldn’t be in the way—a hulking mass that reached towards the front door with how he positioned it. You took a moment to compare his upper body’s presumed weight with the sturdiness of the couch. 

You cleared your throat, and he tore himself away from the plushie to look at you. “Y’know, you could probably sit on the couch if you wanted. I think it can hold your weight.” Or some of it, anyways. Definitely not with the rest of his lengthy tail. 

He made a face, disbelieving. “Are you sure about that?”

Your head swayed side to side as you considered. “Mmh, yeah. Like ninety-seven percent sure.” 

“And the other three percent?” he asked flatly. 

You shrugged and had to suppress a smile. “Well, in the event that you did break the couch… it would be pretty fucking funny.” You grinned at him when he gave you an unimpressed look. “Come on, have trust in my couch. She hasn’t failed me yet.” You gave the cushion next to you a little pat. 

He eyed you and the cushion dubiously, then seemed to cave when you only patted it a little harder. “Alright, fine. But I sure as shit am not paying for it if it does.” 

You watched as he lifted himself up—the muscles of his tail tensing underneath his scales—and carefully eased his weight onto the couch. Not too close, not too far. Just enough for there to be a foot’s worth of space between you and him. 

The moment he stopped holding himself up completely, his form sinking into the couch cushion, you felt your body inadvertently tilt towards him—off balance with the additional weight. You made a surprised sound as you caught yourself before you could fall onto him, your hands grasping at the armrest of the couch you were closest to. You scooted yourself closer to it, heart beating wildly in your ears. A low warmth crawled up into your cheeks that you willed away.

The couch creaked as Sebastian finally settled in. And after a second of you both holding your breath and waiting, you exhaled and shot him a smug look. “Told you so.”

“I don’t remember you being this annoying,” he said, though the lightness to his voice told you he was messing with you. “Were you always this annoying?” 

You scoffed and had to resist the urge to reach over to shove him. Not that it would do anything. “Shut up. What do you wanna watch?” 

He shrugged. “I’ve got years of movies to catch up on, I don’t really care.” After saying that, though, he seemed to mull it over in his head. And then quietly—so, so quietly you had to hold your breath to hear it—he mumbled, “D’you… got any new favorite movies?” 

You turned his question over in your head. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“Let’s watch those, then.” 

“Hmm.” Your gaze softened while you watched him, a warmth settling deeply in your stomach. He didn’t turn to look at you, instead electing to stare down at the plushie still in his hold. “Okay.” 

You managed to stay focused on the movie you pulled up for about a quarter of its length. And then you got distracted with stealing glances at Sebastian. He paid attention to the film for the most part—the glow of his eyes stark with him having turned his lure off—but every so often you caught him staring distractedly either at the box sitting on your coffee table or the plushie in his hand. Quiet. Contemplative in a way that was haunting. 

You debated saying something. Part of you wanted to just pretend you hadn’t picked up on anything—for his sake or your own, you weren’t sure. But eventually you gave in when he seemed too deeply lost in thought, vacant look to his eyes. 

You cleared your throat and made a show of warily eyeing the plushie in his hand. Memories from a time long passed flowed through your mind. “I hope you’re not planning to do anything with that.” 

Sebastian blinked back to the present. “Huh?” 

You nodded at the panda plushie. He looked back and forth between you and the plushie for a bit until he realized what you were implying.

“Well I can’t do it right now,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s gotta be when you least expect it.”

You gave him an unimpressed look. “When I least expe—” 

Bap!

Stunned, you blinked at Sebastian as the plushie fell to your lap. There was the leftover feeling of fuzz in your mouth. He immediately started to wheeze, one of his hands slapping over his eyes while he shook with laughter strong enough to mildly shake the couch. In hindsight, you should have expected that.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s the second time so far. I need to keep a tally,” he cackled, breathless and delighted. Well, at least he wasn’t in his prior funk anymore. That was all you could ask for, really.

“Some things never change, huh?” you said dryly. You picked up the plushie and tossed it at him. He chortled some more when it harmlessly bounced off his shoulder. 

Letting out a gentle sigh, you glanced over to the television to see the movie was almost at its end. Fatigue from the day’s events was starting to press against your eyes. Ahh, you should brush your teeth and shower. Standing up, you stretched out your arms over your head. The muscles in your shoulders and back moved with the motion, your shirt riding up ever so slightly. You tugged it down and turned to look at Sebastian, his teal eyes already trained on your form—faint smile still lingering on his face from his previous laughter. 

“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” you told him and grabbed the remote to toss in his direction. “You can put something else on if you want.” 

“Aw, already?” He pouted, not bothering to pick up the remote just yet. “It’s not that late.” 

You snorted. “It’s not, but I have to get up early tomorrow. Again. Y’know, like people with jobs tend to do.” 

“Right, right, my bad. How could I forget?” Sarcasm oozed from his words. “Well, don’t let me hold you up.” He made a shoo-ing motion with one of his hands. 

You snorted again and turned on your heel to head over to your bedroom. And once you were inside, you paused once you grabbed your towel from its place behind your door. Usually, you would change your clothes in your room after showering, but… Did you really want to walk around in only your towel right now? You glanced out the door at Sebastian—who looked like he was painstakingly trying to browse other movie options using the tiny remote. You looked back down at your towel, squeezing the soft material. 

…This was stupid. You were overthinking the smallest things, it seemed. You pinched at the bridge of your nose. And after standing there feeling like your innards were knotting themselves together over and over, you forced yourself to gather up your necessary nightwear. Then, you made your way to your bathroom for the quickest shower and redress of your life. 

As you went to brush your teeth, you noticed another toothbrush sitting in the cup you used to hold your own. The bristles were, well, not destroyed exactly, but they stuck out all over the place instead of in their neat lines. A peek into the tiny trash can you kept in the bathroom revealed the remains of a toothbrush snapped in half—the bristles on that one utterly destroyed. Your bottle of mouthwash was also significantly emptier than it had been this morning. You had to suppress a smile. Mentally, you added more to your list of groceries, as well as a better toothbrush for Sebastian to use. 

Upon exiting the bathroom, your towel slung over your shoulder and dirty clothes in hand, your eyes landed on Sebastian. With his lure still off, the light from the television painted the living room in shades of navy and purple. He wasn’t paying attention to the movie he’d put on, still running his thumbs repeatedly over that plushie. You cleared your throat, and his head snapped towards you. 

“Well,” you said lightly as you walked over to your room, “I’m heading to bed. Ni—” 

“Wait—!” he cut across you, his eyes widening as he lurched slightly in your direction. One of his arms raised halfheartedly. One beat. Two beats. And then he hesitated, lowering his arm as he slouched down into the couch. He sighed—quiet, weary—and turned back around so he could stare absently at his box of things once more. “...Never mind.” 

Your mouth opened, then closed. You lingered outside your bedroom for a moment, waiting to see if he would say anything else. But when he didn’t, you gave him one more look, your lips pressing together. 

“Good night,” you whispered, one of your hands resting on the edge of the door frame. 

“G’night,” he murmured back. He didn’t look at you. This felt infinitely worse than last night.

When you finally slipped into your room for the night—heart weighed by something you could not define—you made sure to leave the door slightly ajar. 

The following morning passed similarly to the previous one, with you shuffling out of your bedroom to find Sebastian already awake. He gave you a sleepy “Morning,” and took to watching you sleepily as you scurried around getting ready for work. 

“I’ll probably be back a little later than usual,” you told him hastily as you tugged on your shoes and slung your bag over your shoulder. “Don’t wait up if you get hungry.” 

“Mmmkay.” He gave you a lazy wave from his coiled lounging in front of the couch. The pillow you’d given him was pressed to his chest, his arms tightly wrapped around it. “Have a good day.” You offered him a quick smile, lingering for only the most minuscule of moments before you slipped out the door.

You were hoping for an easy shift at work, especially with all the shopping you’d need to do afterwards, but it was not kind to you. Fatigue weighed heavily upon your shoulders as you left the clinic. There was an itch behind your eyes that you knew would only worsen over time. You huffed and buckled yourself into your car. The quicker you could get this done, the better.

You’d intended to visit your regular grocery store, but upon deliberating it while driving down one of the main roads, you decided to go to your town’s warehouse store. Buying items in bulk would probably be better for you and Sebastian. And your wallet. 

With one hand holding onto your phone and the other pushing around a cart, you went hunting for all the things you’d need. Plus some more items that your eyes caught onto and you figured wouldn’t hurt to bring home. A giant box of granola bars, for one. A couple rotisserie chickens. A container of honey crisp apples. Honestly, you could probably buy anything and he would be happy with it. He never was much of a picky eater. 

You spent some time in the cleaning supplies aisle, looking at various brushes used to scrub sinks or pans. You picked one up, weighing it in your hand and peering at the thick bristles attached to the rectangular head. A traditional toothbrush was clearly out of the question. This would have to do for him. You’d probably need way more tubes of toothpaste as well. 

At one point, you passed by a clothing aisle and took a moment to stare at various shirts and sweaters. You picked out a particularly large, black shirt and tried to imagine if it could fit over Sebastian’s long torso. Probably not, especially with his extra arm. You frowned as you hung it back up. You might have to look online for larger sizes. It was something to discuss with him later.

After making your way through the store, ensuring you got everything on your list, you headed towards self-checkout. And as you scanned each item and placed it on the large scale attached to the monitor, you were hit with just how much you bought. It was… a lot. Almost triple the amount of groceries you typically got biweekly. You nervously eyed the receipt once it was printed, then decided you shouldn’t worry too much about it. You had your savings, and if anything, you could always pick up extra shifts at the clinic. 

Once everything was packed away neatly into the trunk and backseat of your car, you drove back to your cottage. By now it was dark outside, the roads lit up by street lamps that glowed with sleepy cream-colored light. There was the smallest scattering of stars overhead, most of the sky overtaken by cool gray clouds passing lazily by. 

Eventually, you pulled into your driveway and killed the engine. Grabbing some of the items you could carry from the backseat with one hand, you rummaged around in your bag for your keys and made your way over to the door. 

“I’m home!” you called out once you opened it, letting the dim moonlight seep into the darkness of your living room. As you dropped your work bag onto the floor and gently set down the items in your hand next to it, a golden light flickered on. 

“Welcome back,” Sebastian greeted smoothly. A quick glance upwards showed him steadily making his way over from the kitchen. “Was wondering when you’d return.” 

“Admittedly, that took me longer than I’d expected,” you said with a sigh. You gestured down to the groceries on the floor. “Do me a favor and pack these into the kitchen? I’ll bring everything else in. Just shout if you don’t know where something goes.” 

“Alrighty,” he agreed easily, and you turned on your heel to make your way back over to your car to bring in everything else. The quicker this was done, the quicker you’d be able to finally relax. 

It didn’t take too long with the both of you working together, but it was a lot of groceries. Sebastian was able to carry quite a few items to the kitchen on his own—something that would have taken ages on your lonesome. It meant he had to move back and forth between the front door and kitchen, though, and you could see his tail curved all over your cottage. Over the couch, around the coffee table, looping about the kitchen. It really put into perspective just how long he was. And well, it was certainly something to ruminate on.

He didn’t seem to have any issues with putting things in their proper places, thankfully. It wasn’t like it was all too different from how you both organized things way back when. Bread in the fridge, fruits in the little basket on the counter, cereal on top of the refrigerator, potatoes in the cabinet under the sink. It was a major help to not have to pack everything up by yourself, you had to admit.

Finally, you grabbed the last few items from your car’s trunk. The large box of granola bars and a few other frozen boxed items that you stacked on top of it to make the trip easier. Holding it all precariously in one hand, you locked up your car and carefully made your way over to the front door. 

“This is the last of it,” you said as you stepped into your cottage and used your foot to close the door behind you. It was difficult to see where you were going with all the boxes in the way. You toed off your shoes and headed towards the kitchen. “Did you finish packing ev—” 

Your foot caught on something. 

You let out a yelp, lurching forward as you lost balance. The topmost boxes slipped down to the floor, landing with nearly consecutive thuds. Your heart leapt in your chest, but before you could really brace yourself for impact, something snatched you by the back of your jacket and tugged you slightly into the air. 

“Shit! Watch where you’re going!” Sebastian chastised you as you dangled above the floor for a bit before being set gently down. You blinked rapidly, still not quite processing what had happened. “Coulda busted your head right open.” 

“Sorry,” you said automatically, then glanced down to see you’d tripped right over a part of his tail—that was already shifting out of your way to make your path to the kitchen clear. You swallowed. “I— Sorry.” 

“Jeez,” he grumbled, bending down to swipe up the boxes you’d dropped. “And to answer your question: Yes, I did finish. Though I dunno where you want this to go.” 

With his third arm he brandished the sink brush at you, already having removed it from its plastic container. You blinked at it once, then gave yourself a mental kick to the behind to snap yourself out of it. Focus. Here and now. 

“Ah. That’s your new toothbrush,” you told him as you forced yourself to continue on to the kitchen. 

There was a tiny pause. “You’re joking,” he said incredulously as he followed behind you—the low shifting sound of his body your only indication.

“Nope. You’re welcome.” 

“You expect me to brush my teeth with this?” 

“Ordinary toothbrushes weren’t gonna cut it for you,” you told him amusedly as you slipped the box of granola bars atop the refrigerator and opened the freezer. You gestured at him to hand you the boxes he was holding and he complied, though he was still frowning at you like you’d just suggested the most absurd thing in the world. You rolled your eyes. “It’s better than nothing.” 

“That’s what you said about the regular toothbrushes,” he said in exasperation, then sighed. “I should have expected this,” he muttered to himself, eyeing the brush some more as he rotated it about in his hands. 

You closed the freezer door and turned to look up at him. “Did you put away the toothpaste and mouthwash, too?” 

He jabbed a finger over to the bathroom, still scrutinizing the brush. “I put them on the counter.” 

“Okay, I’ll put them away. Give me your toothbrush, I’ll put it in the cabinet.” You extended your hand, waiting for him to stop being so dramatic. He ran a hand down his face and huffed, but eventually dropped the brush onto your palm. You had to suppress a smile. Looked like you won. 

You made your way to the bathroom and exactly what you’d said you’d do. Sebastian’s brush went into the cabinet behind the mirror. The extra toothbrush sitting in your cup—with its destroyed bristles—went into the garbage can. The mouthwash and extra toothpaste were both tucked neatly away into the cabinet under the sink. You washed your hands and rolled your shoulders with a silent sigh. 

After exiting the bathroom, you tossed your jacket into your room and wandered back to the kitchen. That same fatigue from earlier was starting to make a reappearance. It laid heavy hands along your shoulders and the back of your neck. You chewed at the inside of your lip as you glanced at Sebastian—who was sweeping his own gaze across the kitchen—then at the clock on your stove. 

“I am way too tired and it is way too late to make something,” you admitted as you rubbed your hand over your abdomen when your stomach gave a little rumble. “Did you eat the rest of the leftovers?” 

“For lunch, yeah,” he replied as he flicked his head to the dish rack. The associated containers and utensils sat there drying. 

You hummed and slipped carefully around his tail to reopen the refrigerator. Might as well use some of the things you bought today. “How do you feel about cereal for dinner?”

“Don’t care, either way.” He shrugged and glanced up at the top of the refrigerator, where the boxes of cereal stood. “I saw those Reese’s Puffs you bought today. Feels almost targeted, honestly.” He sniffed. 

You grinned as you walked over to the cabinets. “That’s because it was.” 

After you grabbed a bowl and spoon for yourself, you turned around to compare it to Sebastian’s hand size while he moved one of the kitchen table’s chairs to the side again. There was no way he’d be able to comfortably use such tiny things. The bowl alone was more like a cup for him. You rubbed your chin and bent down to grab a basin and a pot spoon, the metal of each reflecting the light coming from Sebastian’s lure. This would have to do. 

You set everything down on the table, then grabbed the Reese’s Puffs, your own preferred cereal, and a gallon of milk—juggling them all in your hold carefully until you could drop them on the table. Sebastian snorted when he saw the basin and pot spoon, but didn’t say anything else. You sat down with a sigh, suddenly acutely aware of your own aching feet and pressing itch to your eyes. 

And so there you both were again. Sitting across from each other in your little kitchen.

Still strange. Still unfamiliar. 

You wondered when you would grow accustomed to it all.

Sebastian cleared his throat as he reached for the Reese’s Puffs to begin pouring it into his bowl. “So! How was your day?” 

You shrugged at him, copying his actions with your own cereal. “Tiring, I suppose. How was yours?” 

“Boring when you’re not here,” he said immediately. He poured milk into his bowl, then gestured at your own so he could fill yours as well. You pushed it closer to him and watched the stream of milk as it splashed against your cereal. “But this isn’t about me. This is about you.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “It is?” 

He nodded and recapped the milk jug. “I told you all about me,” he said simply, “now I want you to tell me all about you. What have you been up to all this time?” 

There was a warmth settling itself in your stomach—like you’d just swallowed a spoonful of hot soup. You tried not to let it affect you so much. “I’m… not sure if there’s really much to say,” you said, a small frown splayed on your lips as you picked up your spoon. 

Sebastian flapped a hand at you. “Pssht, bullshit! There’s always a tale to tell. Come on, don’t hold out on me.” He grinned at you suddenly, sharp. “Unless you’ve got something to hide?” 

You gave him a look. “Right,” you said flatly, “like my secret job I do after working all day at the clinic.”

He snapped his fingers. “Now we’re talking!”

You snorted, then hummed thoughtfully as you swirled your spoon through your bowl. “Honestly, there really isn’t much to say,” you told him quietly, thinking back to the years and years of grief and solitude. “I work. I come home. I read or watch T.V. or play shitty songs on my ukulele.” You chuckled. “Occasionally I text some friends still living in the city. Or call your siblings or mom. Maybe I hang out with coworkers very seldomly. But mostly I just…” you trailed off, thinking about the evenings spent lost in thought at the dock or within the cove. Thinking about him, mostly. Mourning him. You shrugged. “I dunno. Daydream, I guess.” 

The gaze he pierced you with made you feel like you were being picked apart and analyzed, piece by piece. “Hmm, I see.” You were certain he knew you were not telling him everything. 

Well, you thought to yourself wryly, that makes two of us. 

It was okay, though. There were some things that were just better off left unsaid. 

“How about any work stories?” he asked after shoveling his spoon into his mouth to crunch noisily down on his cereal. “You said you work at a clinic, right? You gotta have something from your time there.” 

You mulled it over in your head. “Well, there was this one time…” 

For the rest of dinner, you recounted what tales you could remember from your job. Dramatic coworkers, strict bosses, strange patient interactions. You didn’t think some of them were all too interesting—maybe just a way for you to rant or express your incredulity at dealing with people—but Sebastian listened raptly either way, his ear fins flicking every so often. He offered his own little sardonic quips from time to time (“No way,” he drawled when you told him a patient stopped taking all their medications then was surprised when they felt awful afterwards), and it made you realize later on just how… normal things were between you both. Right then and there. 

Sitting at a too little table, in a too little kitchen. You and him, like it had always been before everything happened. 

It made you crave more. Sunk its talons into your body and filled you up with a want want want. 

Addicting. 

You watched Sebastian scrape up the last of his second helping of cereal onto his spoon, sleepily blinking at him in the quiet, comfortable aftermath of your last story. Your gaze caught onto the long sleeves of his jacket, then traced upwards to the scarf still wrapped loosely around his neck. Faintly, you recalled wandering past the clothes section at the warehouse store you went to earlier. Right. 

“What size are you?” you found yourself asking, eyeing up his jacket and trying to estimate how long it was.

Sebastian let out an offended gasp, dropping his spoon into his bowl while his third hand raised up to his chest in shock. “Why I never! Babe, you can’t just ask someone that!”

You snorted. “I was talking about your clothes and you know it. So?” 

“Why are you asking?” he asked warily, shooting you a narrow-eyed look.

“I was thinking we should order you some new things to wear,” you told him and leaned back into your chair. “You’ve gotta be tired of wearing the same fit every day, right?” 

He shrugged, his head flicking to the side slightly like he was staring out at something other than you. “I got used to it.” 

Your gaze softened. “Well, I think you deserve at least a new shirt. Maybe a sweater.” Then, to lighten the atmosphere and give him an easy out, you said, “Besides, what if I’m tired of seeing you in the same clothes, huh? What if I wanted to see you in something nicer? Ever think about that?”

Sebastian looked back at you, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he processed your words. His lips tensed together when you only smiled knowingly at him, and his cheeks darkened minutely. He opened his mouth, paused, then after appearing to consider what to do next, his lips twisted into a feigned grimace. The edges of his lips twitched. You had to hold back a laugh.

“Eugh, are you flirting with me?” he asked, one of his hands reaching up to tuck his hair vainly over his ear fin. His face scrunched up like he was wrinkling his nonexistent nose, though his lure got a smidge brighter. “You should know, I’m a married man.” He wiggled his third arm’s fingers at you, his ring glinting in the light from his lure. 

You rolled your eyes. You did that a lot with him, you noticed. You opened your mouth to respond, then found yourself darting your gaze past his torso when something blurry moved in your periphery. 

Fake Sebastian leaned against the door of your refrigerator, hands tucked neatly into his pockets as he smiled widely at you. Uncanny, almost. His eyes crinkled into crescents that still seemed to pierce right through your body like an arrow. A reminder. And for one short, inconsequential moment, you froze. 

(Teal eyes. Fingers like knives. Body covered in scales. Pungent smell of fish.)

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

You forced yourself to look back at actual Sebastian, who watched you with slightly furrowed brows. Appraising you, almost. Evaluating. You smiled at him, willing your stomach to stop twisting itself into heavy knots. You were working on it. “So? Size?” 

If he found your lack of a retort suspicious, he did not make it known. Instead, he sighed and leaned back away from you. When had he gotten closer? 

He picked at the material of his jacket sleeve. “I dunno. This shit was all custom made probably.” He moved his third arm around, bringing your attention to the sleeves it had both from his jacket and undershirt. 

You frowned, tapping your finger against your chin. “Guess we’ll have to take some measurements. Gimme a sec.” You stood up, your chair making a little scraping sound as you pushed it back and beelined for your bedroom. 

Rummaging around in your closet, you let out a little “aha!” when your fingers found purchase on the cool metal of a small measuring tape. You pulled it out and scurried back over to Sebastian, your fingers already pulling at the little metal tab at the end to stretch out the flimsy tape. 

“Okay,” you said as you stood next to your chair and pulled the tape out until it was a few feet long. “This shouldn’t take too long. Let’s—”

But you found yourself hesitating as you looked up at him.

You’d… fully intended on helping him measure his waist, chest, and torso length but… As you peered at his face with his glowing eyes trained on your hands, you were suddenly struck with the startling memory of his snarl—snapping at you as he lurched backwards from your touch. The sinking pit in your stomach it caused, and the way he turned away from you like he just could not bring himself to look at you. 

“Not yet,” he’d said, strangling out the words like they were suffocating him. “Not yet.” 

Your grip tightened on the measuring tape. He continued to watch you, his mouth deepening into a frown when you didn’t say anything else. It shook you from your thoughts. You cleared your throat and abruptly loosened your hold on the tool. 

Not yet, you told yourself. Time, you just needed time.

For him and for you.

“Actually,” you said in as thoughtful a manner as you could, hoping against all that your expression was schooled into something similar. You let the tape retract into the metal body of its container and set it on the table to slide it over to him. “Take your measurements. I’m gonna clear the table and grab my laptop in the meantime.” 

When you grabbed at your bowl and his own larger basin, it looked—for one, terse moment—like he wanted to say something. It was in the way his gaze seemed to dart down to the tape, then back up at you. The way his jaw tensed, then relaxed just as quick. 

He sighed, long and quiet. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna find anything that fits… this,” he grumbled as he picked up the tiny measuring tape with thick, careful fingers. One errant flex of his hand and he could crush it rather easily. It was as unnerving as it was captivating. 

You made a noncommittal sound as you placed the dishes into the sink and grabbed the sponge to scrub them down with soap. “Eh, who knows. There might be sizes large enough on certain websites. And if anything, we can probably custom order something for you.” 

He only grumbled something indecipherable, the sound of the measuring tape being stretched out filling the air. You busied yourself with rinsing the dishes, quietly ruminating on the strange proportions of Sebastian’s body. 

His torso was quite long—almost as long as your entire body, honestly. Any shirt you got him might be… a bit short on him, but that was fine. Your one concern was how lithe he was, in addition to his length. It might cause him to get utterly swamped in whatever you would purchase. Not to mention you’d most certainly have to cut a hole in the material to allow his third arm freedom. You’d probably also have to buy shirts made of stretchable material, particularly so he could get his big head through the neck hole in the first place. 

Ahh, this was more complicated than you’d originally thought. 

It was fine, though. Anything to make him more comfortable. 

Drying your hands off on a nearby towel, you glanced over to see Sebastian still measuring his chest’s circumference—his eyes squinted in focus as he carefully pinched the tape around his body. You let him be so you could scavenge around for your laptop. You couldn’t remember where you last left it. 

Once you found it—tucked underneath the couch, of all places—you went back to the kitchen to plop yourself back down in your chair at the table. The measuring tape was already set on its surface, and Sebastian watched you silently with his arms crossed over his chest as you powered on your laptop. You placed it in the middle of the table, so that you both could see its screen properly. 

“Alright,” you said once it booted up and you opened the notepad application, “what’s the verdict, chief?” 

He told you his measurements, and you typed them up for reference. Then, the search began. It wasn’t all that hard to find a website that sold clothes for individuals on the taller side, honestly. What sucked was finding one that had a size chart that matched his own measurements well enough. Either his chest measurement was way too small, or his torso length was too long—it was just as you’d predicted. You’d have to compromise. 

Sebastian was… well… quiet, as he watched you scroll through numerous sites. Not melancholy, really, but… resigned, almost. Maybe even tense. You weren’t sure how to define it. His gaze just seemed distant whenever you glanced up at him to get a read on what he was thinking. It was not an expression you wanted to see on him—that you liked seeing on him. You cleared your throat. 

“I hear baggy, almost-crop tops are the new look,” you joked as you gestured to the size chart on one website that seemed like the best option out of the others. “What do you think?” 

“Hmm?” He blinked as he seemed to come back to himself and glanced briefly down at you. With your expectant gaze on him, his own darted to your laptop and he focused in on it with a squint. “Oh yeah, they’re right up there with skinny jeans and fedoras.” 

You huffed out a laugh. “It’s the best we’ve got that’ll kinda fit you. We can buy a couple to test them out. I can return them if anything.” 

“Whatever you say,” he said vaguely. It made your lips twitch slightly into a frown. 

“Are you… okay?” you hesitantly asked him, turning your body in your seat so you could face him properly. You hadn’t noticed until now but his lure had dimmed. Not too much to be stark, but enough that you glanced briefly up to it in concern. “It’s just… you seem out of it.” 

He didn’t reply. He only stared down at you. A quiet permeated the air, broken only by your soft breaths. The hum of your laptop’s fans. His mouth opened slightly, just enough for you to hear the small inhale he took. Then— he seemed to snap back to himself, his body going from stock still to sudden motion. 

“Just peachy~” he crooned, his eyes crinkling into upturned crescents as he shifted closer to your side of the table. “What options do they have? I’d kill for a turtle neck.” He peered at your laptop with a curious hum, lowering himself down so he’d have a better view. One of his hands braced gently along the edge of the table. 

This close—mere inches of space between you and him as he hovered just over your shoulder—you could smell that poignant, fishy odor. Stronger than it had ever been before. That sank itself into your senses and reminded you of just what you were dealing with. 

Inhuman inhuman inhuman inhuman.

Your breath got caught in your lungs for a second before you forced yourself to breathe normally. You willed yourself to focus on something else, anything else. Anything other than the blatant lack of cinnamon or gentle musk you were accustomed to. Had been accustomed to.

Deep breath in.  

Faintly—your brain inadvertently registered—beyond that piscine scent, was the smell of your detergent. The gentle, clear scent was so different that it was almost jarring. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, latching onto the sleeve of his jacket. It looked… clean. Soft.

Not the point, focus! 

Deep breath out.

“Here, see for yourself,” you said as casually as you could as you shifted your laptop better towards him. He was deflecting, but so were you. It was as clear as a sunny sky after days of rain. There was nothing you could do about it. Or rather, nothing you wanted to do about it at this time.

Eventually, though, you would have to.

But not yet.

“I can’t—” Sebastian cut himself off with a clear of his throat. You craned your head to the side to look properly at him, the way he purposely stared at your tiny laptop and not at you. “I can’t use a touchpad, I fear. My hands are, ah, too cold. And hard.” 

“Oh,” was your response, dropping from your mouth like a rock. You… hadn’t even considered that, actually. You frowned and looked at the tiny arrow keys. His fingers were too big to even properly use those, as well. It didn’t help to eradicate the coolness that was starting to spread throughout your body. You pulled your laptop a smidge closer towards you. “That’s okay. We’ll look together.” It was the only reassurance you could think of to say.

You thought he’d be pickier with what shirts he wanted, but he didn’t seem to mind the ones you pointed out. There was still that… aloofness to his voice, but he seemed to get better when you found some AC/DC and KISS shirts to add to the cart. You didn’t want to buy too much in case they ended up not fitting him at all. In any case, it was a good start. 

You also ended up looking around for a website that did custom sizes after ordering from the first one. You did find one—a tailor that said they would use the customer’s measurements to adjust the clothes they had to fit their size—but you were unsure how it would work with someone like Sebastian. In any case, the two of you agreed to test it out with one of the displayed flannels on the tailor’s website, hoping no one would say anything as you punched in Sebastian’s frankly eyebrow-raising measurements and submitted the order. Maybe it would be chalked up as someone wanting a robe, or something.

When that was all said and done, you leaned back in your chair while your laptop powered off and scrubbed at your face. You were tired. You could feel it in the heaviness of your eyelids and shoulders. You were so ready to hit the—

“So!” Sebastian clasped his hands together and slithered away from you to give you some space to stretch your arms. He looked at you expectantly. “Movie?” 

Ahhh. How could you say no to him after all that?

You suppressed a tired sigh. At least you didn’t have work tomorrow. “Go pick something. I’m gonna get ready for bed.” 

“Yippee!” He gave you a thumbs up and snaked his way into the living room. You took a moment to rub at your eyes, then scooped up your laptop to head to your bedroom for your nightly routine. 

Once your teeth were brushed and your nightwear was slipped on, you trudged over to the couch and flopped down next to Sebastian. Not too close, not too far—just like yesterday. Your eyes caught onto the box of his things, still sitting innocuously on your coffee table. Its flaps were sealed shut. You didn’t linger on it. 

Sebastian already had a movie queued up on the television, and as soon as you gave him the go ahead, he carefully pressed play on the remote with the tip of his finger. 

“What movie is this?” you asked as you let yourself slump into the cushions. Your legs stretched out in front of you, your heels resting on the carpet you had on the floor.

“Pacific Rim,” he replied, reaching up to tug his lure off. “I remember wanting to watch it in theaters, but then… Well.” His voice lowered into a grumble. “Never got the chance.” 

You hummed. “Now’s as good a time as any.” 

He let out an “mmhm” in agreement.

You didn’t even make it past the introduction. 

You could already feel yourself nodding off even as an action scene played out on the screen. The darkness of the living room paired with the comfort of your relaxed body was a deadly combination. You vaguely registered movement somewhere behind your head and shoulders, but you were too far gone to really process what it was. 

There was a cool sensation on your cheek that prevented your head from slipping to the side any further.

And when you woke up, hours later in the middle of the night, you found yourself tucked neatly into bed. Blanket wrapped comfortably around your body and gentle moonlight drifting its ghostly hand across your sheets. You blinked hazily up at your ceiling, then looked over at your open bedroom door. 

The quiet drone of the television just outside followed you back into your dreams.

part four

[maybe-im-dark]

Half the boyfriend, half the fun

The first thing Wade felt was cold. Not the gentle coolness of an autumn breeze or the refreshing chill of freshly fallen snow. No, this was a biting, numbing cold. His vision was blurry and his body felt...off. he tried to move but nothing happened. As he blinked away the fog in his brain and looked down at himself the realization hit him like a punch in the gut —his legs were gone.

"Crap!", he muttered in a raspy voice.

Slowly the memories returned. He and Logan had been on a mission, targeting a group of small-time criminals, who had holed up in the woods. Get there, take them out, get the cash, done. But apparently something had gone horribly wrong.

"Logan?", he called out.

No answer.

Panic flared as he looked around the wooded area. Using his arms, he began to crawl foward, twigs and pine needles digging into his stomach. Not caring for the blood trail he left behind. A few yards away he spotted Logan and the sight made his heart skip a beat. Logan looked just as bad, if not worse. Instead of being cut, his body was ripped off at one of the vulnerable intervertebral discs, that were not adamantium, torn apart brutally. One half of his metal spine was sticking out of his torso, glinting against the bloodied mess of torn skin, flesh and tendons.

"Oh, no, no, no!" Wade mumbled, dragging himself as quickly to Logan's side, as his upper half would allow. "Come on, peanut, don't do this to me!"

Logan's healing factor was strong, but unlike Wade, he couldn't regrow limbs. They needed to be attached to his body, for the wounds to start closing. Unfortunately Logan's lower half was nowhere in sight. Wade's mind raced. His belt was nearby, scattered in a pile of dried leaves. Wade rolled onto his side, grabbing it. Thankfully his Hello Kitty fliphone —small enough to fit into one of the tiny pockets— was in there for emergencies.

His fingers shook so badly that it was difficult to press the small buttons. As he went through the contact list, the adrenaline started to wear off and the pain set in. Today was really turning out to be a shit day.

The phone barely rang twice, before Dopinder picked up.

"Hey, Mr. Pool, what can i do for you on this fine day?", the cab driver's familiar thick indian accent greeted him.

"Cut the chit-chat, Dopinder! Shit has hit the fan and it's flying everywhere! Get to the coordinates i'm sending, stat!"

He hung up, quickly typing in their location and hitting send twice in agitation.

It didn't take long. Ten minutes later, Wade heard the distant screech of tires as Dopinder slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop. Dopinder hurried over, as fast as he could on the uneven ground. When he saw Wade and Logan, he looked as though he was about to puke, pressing a hand over his mouth.

"Yeah, i know! America's next topmodel isn't in our future anytime soon! Now pull yourself together for fuck's sake!", Wade yelled. "You need to help me find Logan's legs. They're around here somewhere."

Dopinder nodded, his legs wobbling, as he searched the area. A moment later he returned, cradling Logan's legs to his chest like a baby. They were still inside the yellow pants and blue boots. And why would they have undressed him? Surely nobody was that sick. Wade pushed the distracting thoughts aside.

"Alright Dopinder", he instructed, trying his best to sound calm. "Attach them to his torso. He'll up on his own."

Dopinder followed the instructions, carefully pressing Logan's lower half against his upper body. Nothing happened. Logan's wounds remained open, his body still split in two.

"Maybe...maybe he's already dead?" Dopinder suggested, looking uneasy at Logan's unconscious form.

"No, he's just passed out", Wade said. Then quietly to himself: "I hope he stays that way. I'd rather he didn't have to see this sight himself."

The wheels inside Wade's brain turned as he wracked his brain for what to do next. "We need to prevent his body parts from dying off! Ice! We need ice! Dopinder get us to a gas station, quick!"

Wade grabbed Logan's legs and Dopinder hoisted him under one arm and Logan's torso under the other, rushing back to the car. Wade maneuvered himself onto the passenger's seat as Dopinder carefully laid Logan's halves on the backseat.

Then he sped off, ignoring speed limits, though to Wade the drive still felt far too slow. Every red light cost them precious minutes. Finally they pulled up to the first gas station and Dopinder sprinted inside.

Desperately Wade turned to look at Logan. His skin was ashen with deep shadows under his eyes, that hadn't been there before.

"Hold on, honey", Wade whispered, reaching out to gently stroke Logan's disheveled dark brown hair.

A tingling sensation ran through Wade, as he realized, with some relief, that small stumps were beginning to form below his hips. His own legs were regenerating, at last. At least something was working as it should.

Dopinder returned, carrying two large plastic containers and several bags of crushed ice. He filled both containers two the brim with ice, carefully placing Logan's upper half in one and his lower half in the other.

"This is sick! Just sick!" Dopinder murmured as he took in the sight.

"Quit whining and drive to the mansion!" Wade barked.

Dopinder swallowed. But...shouldn't he be in a hospital?"

Wade rolled his eyes. "Yeah and what are you going to tell the doctors? 'Oh the guy in pieces here is actually a mutant with self healing powers, that aren't working right now. If you could fix him up, please!' Newsflash: Most people aren't too fond of mutants! These anti-mutant-propaganda-posters all over the city aren't just for show!"

Dopinder opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, nodding stiffly. He got behind the wheel and drove off. On one hand Wade felt guilty for going off on him. It wasn't fair. But on the other hand, he didn't give a fuck. Right now Logan's wellbeing wad all that mattered, everything else could wait.

"The gate's closed!" Dopinder said as they approached the mansion.

The school was an imposing building from the 19th century made of grey stones, its turrets and bay windows making it look more like a castle.

"Should we...announce ourselves?"

Wade shook his head. "Just drive right through!"

Dopinder floored it, crashing through the gate. The metal wings bend inward, scraping the sides of the car with a horrible screech as a shower of sparks flew across the windshield. Whatever. The professor could cover the damage; the old fart was loaded.

Dopinder parked, leaping out of the car. Wade wadled behind him on his tiny stumps.

"Help!" Dopinder screamed, pounding on the entrance door. "We need help!"

"Yeah, we have a medical emergency! Screw what Professor Egghead says, come out here!" Wade joined in.

The door swung open revealing Hank McCoy in a white lab coat over a beige cable-knit sweater and corduroy pants.

"Mr Wilson, i believe we made it clear, that you are not welcome here! And to have the audacity to insult the professor..."

"Come off it, cookie monster! Logan's badly injured and he won't heal!" Wade cut him off.

Hank adjusted his glasses, irritated. "Yes, yes. I'll take a look at him right away."

"Oh my stars and garters!", he exclaimed as he saw Logan's body halves in the ice-filled containers.

"Holy crap!"

Jean Grey had joined them, without Wade noticing. Not exactly ladylike to curse like that. Did Cyclops know his fiancée used such language?

Using telekinesis, Jean carefully levitated Logan's body parts, guiding them as she and Hank rushed back to the mansion. Wade followed as quickly as his stubby legs would allow.

"What are you gonna do? Will he be okay? Why...?"

The door slammed shut in his face.

Outraged, he turned to Dopinder. "Really? They're just leaving the readers with a cliffhanger like that? Well, to be continued i guess."

[half-dead-ham]

Tim Drake's I.E.F Chap 3

[Previous chap][Ao3 chap][Masterlist][next chap]

I wanna say this real quick before this gets any deeper. This fic was my first, so I didn't know a whole lot about Batman and the Batfam? I'm not gonna change anything about it cuz growth and progress and shit like that (also I cringe looking at these first few chapters...) but I know a lot more about the DC verse now and I know some of this to be wildly inaccurate or OOC. I'm not apologizing. I just thought you should know ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Galaxies on the brain, Dick wallows in the pain

Sore.

That's all Tim could feel. Sore and tired and heavy and cold. He could feel warm hands (weren't they supposed to be cold?) Holding him by the shoulders and knees. Something soft meets his back and he falls deeper into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim wakes up with a groan. His arm ached like he'd hung by Dick's trapeze for too long, his face felt itchy, and every time he took a breath his chest burned. His eyelids felt like lead and his head filled with cotton, he absently wondered what day he was on of no sleep when he'd finally collapsed.

As his thoughts swam the contents of the previous night (nights? How long was he asleep for?) Started to bubble to the surface of his consciousness. The stakeout, the full-bodied chill and his missing bug leading to the warehouse, sounds of gunshots and a closeup with a steel grey roof. After that, things get fuzzier. He remembered… Green, and white hair? Then an image of a galaxy came to him and he wondered if maybe he really had died.

Something to his right rustled and he struggled to pry open an eye enough to see. Dick was slumped in a chair next to his bed (when did he get to a bed?) reading over what seemed to be police reports. Tim tried to speak but when he went for air he came up in a coughing fit.

Dick's head snapped to attention as his little brother, now awake, tried to hack up what was left of his lung.

"Hey! Hey, Tim, you're okay. You're in the medbay in the Batcave. Calm down and try not to breathe too deeply okay?" Dick soothed as he reached for the glass of water with a straw Alfred had left for when Tim woke up.

As he watched his little brother get his breathing under control and take a small sip from the cup offered Dick felt his nerves settle for the first time that night. His brother was awake. Awake meant alive. Hurt, but alive. He settled back into his chair and shook out a relieved sigh.

"What are you doing here?" Even with the water Tim's voice sounded like he hadn't spoken in weeks.

"I said I'd be in Gotham for the weekend, didn't I? I got the call from your comm and picked you up from the warehouse district."

"Call?" Tim's voice cracked with confusion. "I don't remember sending a distress signal…" He trailed off as another hacking cough wracked through his frame. Dick held out the glass again and Tim gratefully took a longer drink.

"… What do you remember from last night?" Dick asked tentatively.

"I remember… the stakeout, my tracker going missing and following the signal to a warehouse by the docks…" Tim gasped, then cringed as the motion sent a jolt of pain down his front.

"I remember the thieves," he ground out. "I'd found their base of operations… but I was sloppy, I didn't notice one of the goons come up behind me until I'd already knocked him over. Then shit hit the fan… I remember making it out, and running, then I guess I got shot? It gets fuzzy from there…" He huffs, shaking the flashing images of white hair and swirling nebulas clear from his sleep addled mind.

He looks over to see Dick with a serious yet contemplative expression, looking down at the bedrest between them and nothing at all.

Curious and weary, Tim mutters a raspy "Why? Something happen?"

Dick seems to mull something over before shaking his head and looking up with a tired smile.

"Nothing serious enough to discuss right now. Why don't you get some more sleep Timmy? God knows you could use it."

Tim wanted to protest, he really did! But the sound of the heart monitor and that strangely familiar buzzing was already restuffing his head with cotton and his eyelids were getting heavier. That feeling of calm and safe washed over him again, sleep quickly following it. He nodded sluggishly and dove back into dreamland with his last thought ringing in his head; 'huh, the buzz sounds more like a purr now.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was not freaking out. He wasn't! He was completely fine with being in the freaking Batcave because he was a hero too. Totally normal.

The sound that wanted to escape his throat was not a squeal. Anyone that told you it was is a liar. 

As he floated through the stalactites (stalagmites? He slept through that particular science class.) He had to physically stop himself from dropping his invisibility and glowing with the force of a neutron star. He was in the Batcave! Tucker and Sam would totally freak over this when he told them. Tucker would have an aneurysm over half the tech he'd seen since getting here (not that he wouldn't already have an aneurysm over him not checking in over the last three days) and Sam would have a field day with the aesthetic of the place. He didn't dare stray too far from his—(not his, no, that's not right) the vigilante he's protecting, which was, in fact, Timothy Drake-Wayne??

He has so many questions.

Like, why was Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprise, going around at night as Red Robin?? Not that he thinks it's wrong, or anything. Danny just feels like that's a lot of stress to have on a teenager's shoulders.

He knows from experience.

The fact that he's also seen Nightwing out of costume, as well as Robin, Orphan, and spoiler with their masks off has Danny feeling like he's seen them practically naked. Because, come on, Damian Wayne was Robin, Orphan was Cassandra Wayne, and Dick Grayson was Nightwing? He'd basically just learned Gotham's richest socialite family all lived double lives as superheroes! If he wasn't already fangirling about being in the Batcave ('the freaking Batcave, ancients end him!') he'd be rolling in his grave laughing and crying from the irony.

Kicking off the nearest stalagmite (stalactite? Still no clue) he floats back down to hover just above the main floor housing the Bat Computer (!!!) with Dick Grayson talking to someone on the other end.

"-have listened to him when he first brought it up a week ago, now he's in a hospital bed! Barbara what am I going to do, I feel like this is all my fault." He watched as Dick (Nightwing? Mr. Grayson?) slumped down in his seat and put his face in his hands. That faraway stare listlessly gazing at the keyboard through slits in his fingers.

Before he could startle the man out of his train of thought the woman from the other end of the call—Barbara, he remembered—spoke up.

"You know you can't blame yourself too badly for that, Dick. While the ribbing may have gone a bit further than you'd have liked, you couldn't have been able to save Tim from getting shot. You were still at least an hour outside the city limits when Tim went to follow the lead his… friend gave him." The way she said 'friend' told Danny she still didn't quite believe in his existence yet, and he was okay with that. As long as Red Robin—Tim?—knew he was there to help, he could let the other members of the batclan think he wasn't real.

A loud groan escapes the older man as he leans back to look at the ceiling of the cave.

"I know Babs," he bemoans, "But I still can't get those thoughts out of my head!" He reached up to message his temples with one hand as silence fills the cave. This time Danny is able to help his friends(?) brothers' turmoil by blowing a bit of frost out and directing it to the back of Dick's hand.

Startled, Dick's head whips around to either side of him, spinning the chair around to face away from the bat computer with a wary gaze before slowly rotating back. He stared at his hand, the one that had previously been nursing his headache and the one that had been covered in frost.

At least, he thought it was.

Dick recalls when Alfred had first pulled off Tim's first aid bandages. He hadn't even changed out of his gear, needing to see the extent of the damage to his little brother, only to watch as green tinged blue ice was revealed to be keeping him together. The ice kept the hole from tearing and bacteria from entering his punctured lung. Alfred shared a look with Dick, confirming that he wasn't the only one seeing the strange ice. As they tried to touch the ice though -get a sample for analysis- it, along with the glove being used as a tourniquet, sublimated away to mist. Leaving the now gaping wound in his brother's side and arm to weep blood, slow and thick.

He left for the showers after that. Better to let a professional patch his brother up than someone with shaking hands and blurry vision.

"Do you think Tim's imaginary friend is a meta?" The words escaped Dick's lips before he'd realized he'd thought them. Refocusing as he heard Babs hum pensively.

"With what you've told me about the magic ice that sealed Tim's wounds, it's possible," she mused. The soft tapping if a keyboard registered on the mic as she pulled something up

"The thing is though, there aren't any registered or rumoured metas with an ice-like powerset in or around Gotham. If there were, we'd be seeing more of them somewhere, ice power sets tend to be flashier." More tapping, then a pained huff came through the speakers.

"It doesn't help that I can't seem to restore Tim's footage from after he fell off the roof," she grumbles.

"What do you mean 'can't restore it'? Even with his mask torn the way it was, the cameras in the lenses should've been working fine."

"That's the thing though! His mask only cut after he fell, it was working perfectly up till that point, then this static whine comes on over the audio and the video glitches out before cutting to static until you find him. It wasn't a signal jammer or EMP, both would do damage to more than just his camera, and a jammer would leave a trace of interference." Her groan echoes through the cave, bringing a small smile to Dick's face as she continues.

"The comm too, if something had tampered with it I'd be able to tell! And yet there's no evidence of tampering and I have a recording of some almost unintelligible mess of a voice talking to us over the main line. Right beside ours that come over with perfect clarity. It just doesn't make sense!"

A chuckle couldn't help but escape Dick's lips as Babs let out a defeated huff on her end. Glancing back towards the medbay he recalled the few times Tim tried to tell him about his patrol companion.

"A snowflake in September," he mumbled pensively, gaze sinking down to his hand again. Then with sudden clarity, he whipped his head up and scanned the Batcave more closely than before, squinting up into the dark corners of the high ceiling.

At one point Danny thought Dick had caught him somehow, the odd cold spot in the area. His shoulders sagged in quiet relief when the vigilantes' eyes swept over where he was floating.

A cold spot in a cold cave isn't odd, after all, and the sensors weren't displaying anything unusual.

Dick glanced back to his hand one more time before turning back to the bat computer and telling Barbara he'd give her an update on Tim's situation in the morning. Saying their 'sleep well's' Danny watched as Dick shut off the giant computer, checked in on Tim one more time then headed to the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim woke up quicker than he had previously. The smell of breakfast wafted to the medbay even from all the way upstairs and his stomach rolled in hunger. Something cold was sitting over Tim's wound, pressing into it but strangely not hurting him in any way. The cold felt familiar, comfortably cool but not chilling, and he could faintly make out a low hum -purr?- coming from somewhere to his left. He cracked one eye open to see both what was in him and the origin of the purr, when the pressure on his wounds released. The lightness around his shoulder probably meant there was another cold comforting thing there he hadn't noticed before. Prying both eyes open fully he looked around the small patient room and realized the purring had stopped and that he was alone. He wasn't awake enough yet to wonder why that was strange, just happy when he heard the ding of the elevator open.

Someone in the Batcave meant he could get some food, after all.

Dick poked his head into Tim's room a few seconds later, a bowl of what appeared to be Cream of Wheat in his hand. He gave a smile, seeing his little brother awake, and let his body follow his head into the room. Setting the bowl down on a pull out table for Tim, Dick chipperly asked "how are you feeling, Timbo?"

"Like I decided taking Bane one-on-one was a good idea," he groaned. Sitting up enough so he could eat, he watched Dick give a half-hearted chuckle while staring into the mid-distance. Half remembering the conversation he had with his older brother last night while spooning the warm cereal into his mouth, he looked around and sarcastically commented between bites, "sooo, you gonna tell me what was on your mind when I woke up before? Or do I have to figure it out myself?"

The comment startled Dick more than it should have, and as Tim frowned at the reaction Dick turned his head, his gaze sweeping the room before he spoke.

"That imaginary friend of yours," Tim cut his brother off with another groan.

"If you're still going to make fun of me for that-" Dick raised his hand, trying to pacify the conversation before he could finish.

"Don't worry Timmers, I believe you now. I should have believed you when you brought it up the first time and I'm sorry for that."

Tim almost groaned again when he felt the tension drop from his shoulders, jostling his arm. He wiggled in his bed to readjust himself before allowing Dick to continue.

"I was going to ask if you knew anything more about them. They've been following you around for a month, right? Do you know if they pose any risk to you or the family?"

Tim shoved another spoonful of the gruel into his mouth, it was bland, but it gave him something to distract him from the fact that Dick had steamrolled over an actual apology and went straight to business.

Shaking his head as he swallowed his mouth full down, he began.

"While I don't know much other than they can apparently make ice from nothing and make things glow, I can say they don't have any ill intent. They saved me Dick, after I fell from the roof they caught me and… I think they got the guys chasing me off my back."

He ignored the images of a black-clad white-haired figure flitting through his mind with another mouth full of cereal.

Dick sighed, none of the bats liked not knowing things about what's happening to them, but the fact that the entity following Tim saved him from a bad fall released some tension from the older birds shoulders.

"So you don't think it would do anything to hurt you? I need to make sure, Tim."

They both shivered as a sudden chill filled the room. Pretending not to notice Tim answered, "no, I don't think the thing that's been following me on patrols, helping me with cases, protecting me for a month would hurt me now after all this time."

Was it weird Tim thought that so surely? A little bit. But with the way the room warmed up just as quickly as it cooled had him realising that maybe he and his brother weren't the only ones in the room. Now that he focused, he could feel the quiet cold sitting behind him.

It had never followed him to the cave before.

'Shit.'

The implications of something potentially dangerous being able to make its way into the Batcave, a heavily protected and monitored fortress of a hideout had Tim shivering for a different reason. If B ever found out, he'd have Tim's neck.

He also realized he could hear the thing purring again. 'Like a big cat,' the thought made him huff a laugh, it certainly did seem like he'd taken in a stray, an invisible, cold, possibly monstrous stray, but a stray nonetheless. The purr grew louder to Tim following his laugh and that same feeling of safety washed over him again, like a blanket.

Tim turned around—really just craned his neck, he couldn't really move otherwise—to try to pinpoint where the purr was coming from exactly, but when he faced away from Dick the comfortable noise stopped dead. The feeling of safety stopped with it, making Tim wonder darkly if the creature was intentionally making Tim think it was safe to gain his trust. He pushed that thought away as soon as it came, if it did intend to hurt him, it would be Tim's fault for trusting it.

Turning back around he found Dick watching him. Mumbling a weak and slightly annoyed "what?" He shovelled another spoonful of the now room temperature cereal.

Dick shook his head. 'So the thing following Tim really did come back to the cave with us,' it didn't bode well for them to have a potentially dangerous sentient creature of unknown origin in the cave, but if his brother thought so highly of the thing, he supposed he could let it stay his secret for now. Dodging the question he drawled, "you know, there isn't any footage on your feed from after you slid off that roof."

The "what?" That came from his brother this time sounded less annoyed and more confused, so he counted that as a win.

"That doesn't make sense, my mask wasn't that badly damaged in my escape, or the display would have told me." He watched his brother's brow furrow in thought.

"Yeah, Babs is pulling her hair out because of it. Apparently after you go over this whine comes over the audio and both cut to static until I find you."

The faces his brother was making would be funny if he weren't so curious about it. Seeing his expression finally land on clarity Dick urged "you know what happened?"

"I think I do," Tim admitted. "I heard a buzzing… it didn't have any source that I can remember, so maybe that's what caused it?"

"A buzzing? That could be it, I didn't hear anything when I found you, so it lines up for when the feed comes back."

Noticing the bowl in front of Tim is now, in fact, empty, Dick figures that maybe now should be where he cuts the conversation. The voice over the comms can be addressed once his brother's gotten some more rest. He stands, takes the bowl from the table and turns to leave when he hears Tim mutter a quiet "wait."

Dick stops paces from the door and turns to face his brother. Tim seems to fight with himself for a moment before he ground out "thanks for believing me, finally."

He doesn't look up to see his older brother's reaction, but the smile could be heard in his voice.

"Of course, Tim, I'm sorry I didn't believe you sooner." With that said, he walks out feeling lighter, and yet with more questions than when he walked in.

Danny watches as Tim sinks into his bed, mindful of his injuries. The bats know about him, with that fact alone he should be leaving, yet even now his core urged him to stay and protect. 

He knows staying is only going to lead to trouble.

He doesn't want to leave.

Leaving means going back to that rundown dump of a townhouse he's been squatting in for the last three months, doing odd jobs around town during the day just to get a bit to eat (not that he needed to eat much with all the ambient ectoplasm in the air) and going back to looking over his shoulder for the GIW or, ancients forbid, his parents.

A soft "hey" breaks him out of his anxious thoughts, and looking over he sees Tim looking in his general direction. The goosebumps on his unbandaged arm tell Danny that he may have made the temperature dip again, unintentionally this time, and he makes a conscious effort to raise it back up to a more comfortable level.

"I know you're there." The sudden admittance made him jump, but Tim continued on, "I know what I saw last night was you. You saved me and I wanted to thank you. Not just for the save, but also the lead on the ghost thieves. For whatever reason you're reluctant to show yourself, and knowing some of my family you have every right to be, but maybe some sign you aren't just some hallucination or actual imaginary thing would be nice? I kinda feel like I'm talking to an actual ghost here." The last bit came out with a chuckle on both ends, Tim for how crazy he feels talking to an empty room and Danny for just how close Tim got with that quip.

Another internal struggle for Danny, oh joy. Revealing himself would be bad, but maybe something small? Tim already knows he makes ice to some capacity, and he's asking so nicely, Danny thought it wouldn't hurt, right?

On the table in front of Tim, where his bland breakfast previously rested a small statuette slowly materialized from condensing mist. Tim watched as the small mound of green tinged ice formed a base, then on nearly invisible supports a nebulous disk spread out. An icy galaxy sat before Tim, about as big as his hand, and it moved. Even after finishing its creation, the edges twisted and swirled in a continuous dance. He could see glittering stars and fluctuating nebulas as tiny clouds of glittering snow.

It was mesmerizing.

Reaching out to touch it, Tim was surprised at how solid it was. It was like touching compacted sand, if they had stuck the sand in an ice box overnight. Ever so gingerly he took the galaxy off its supports and cupped it in his hand. Despite it being made of ice entirely it gave off a strange warmth. It reminded Tim of holding a warm cup of coffee and relaxing with his family. He had to remind himself to breathe as he put the statuette back on its pedestal. The warmth lingered on his palm as he again searched for the cold spot.

It was right in front of him, and he could tell it was watching his reaction. Carefully, he reached out, like he'd done before on that night he'd decided to befriend the strange creature. Unlike before though, his fingers brushed against something. Fabric, he could feel it but there was still nothing to see. His hand slid down what must have been an arm before feeling a fisted hand just over the bed near his thigh. It was tense, and as the cold familiarity of the hand he was holding set in he realized the being sitting on the bed in front of him was afraid. He could feel the quiet anxiety coming off in cold waves, and he had to wonder what it was afraid of.

Tim shifted for better balance and the hand underneath his flinched. Was it… was it afraid of Tim? Afraid of what Tim would do if he knew it was real? That both did and didn't make sense. The being in front of Tim was powerful, he had no doubt it could level all of Gotham if it wanted to, and none of the bats would be able to stop it (not for lack of trying, of course) and yet it was afraid of Tim. Tim, the guys that practically lived off coffee and 5-hour energies, Tim the one that accidentally falls asleep at the batcomputer so regularly Alfred had a specific blanket tucked away just for him. That Tim.

The hand below his flexed again and he realized it must be waiting on an answer. With what he hoped was a reassuring pat to the back of the gloved hand before him, he smiled and snickered, "now, was that so hard?"

The fact that while the hand hadn't moved, the waves of anxious cold he felt warmed up had Tim cheer a silent victory. Trying to look in the direction of where the beings head could be, he continued.

"I get it if you don't wanna show yourself, I really do, but maybe you could keep me company? I probably got six to eight weeks laying in this bed, and I don't know about you, but I'll probably die of boredom before that's up." He chuckles, and going off of the way he feels the hand underneath him bounce, he guessed the thing in front of him does too.

"So yeah, you're welcome to stay, if you want. Maybe help me pull a prank or two, and I know that no matter what you are, you're going to love Alfred's cooking."

Well shit, Danny basically just got the go ahead to haunt the Wayne family, by one of the Waynes. He feels like he should be honoured? Sure the fact he doesn't want to go back to living in that stupid townhouse is another driving factor, but having a friend that doesn't mind his ghosty bits outside of Sam and Tucker sounds really appealing. It doesn't help that he's been really lonely.

Tim feels the hand slide out from under his. Before he can marvel at the fact they did it without making any sound, or mourn the loss of the comforting cold he watches as the galaxy statuette lifts off its base. The statuette hovers above the table for a few moments, then raises and dips repeatedly, straight up and down. Tim laughs at what could only be described as the floating statue nodding at him, before being set down on its base.

"Well I guess that settles it then," he laughs, "if you're going to be around more often, I'll need something to call you though." The room temperature takes a dive, not as cold as before, but still noticeable.

"Okay, I'm going to guess you either don't have a name, "the room temp doesn't change " or have a name but can't or don't want to say it." The room slowly warms up at that. So it has a name but can't use it. Tim can work with that.

"Well, how about I give you a name until you can tell me your real one? I'm not as good as Damian in naming things but I'm sure I can think of something." A hum heard and Tim begins to think of what he could call his new friend. Remembering the white hair he saw the night before and what was probably the same figure as a nebula had his eyes wandering to the statuette sitting prettily before him. So the being either likes space or space themed things (did it come from space? An actual alien? Just another thing to think about.) Trying to recall the knowledge he gained from the few times he's gone stargazing, a name pops into Tim's head that makes him want to laugh.

"How do you like the name Arcturus? If I remember right it's one of the brightest stars and it looks white when you see it in the sky."

The reaction he gets is instantaneous, a loud purr reverberates throughout the small room and this time Tim does laugh.

"I suppose that's as good of a 'yes' as I'll get. Good to finally meet you Arcturus." He holds out a hand before realizing that a handshake probably wasn't going to happen. Before he could take his hand back he felt the hand he was holding previously snake into his and grip it gently. He smiled and shook it, absently noting the claws he could feel poking at the back of his hand.

"I feel like this will be the start of a beautiful friendship," he grins.

A puff of frost in his face has him snort and grin in the direction of his new friend.

Yeah, this'll be interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Ao3][Prev][Next]

[weaponsdrawn]

HI i just remembered to respond to this FUCK ok so

I MASSIVELY AGREE with the binjpipe takes. i think ETS was good/iconic if only because it was so like. JARRING in a good way. but it was so lighting in a bottle tbh, and like u said it isnt rlly good horror. only rlly shocking if ur actually attached to cookie, which ppl are. cookie gets replaced by an AI tried to be ETS all over again, and it wasnt, and it kinda rlly showed, like you said, how they shine best with comedy. also I FULLY AGREE. fuck, im pretty sure its one of the reasons ive just grown tired of jackbox by now, both me and my gf (we met thru shared jackbox love), its bc every time binjpipe happened we were just like "THIS SHIT AGAIN?????" like it just made any sort of investment in it or hopes of cookie getting better just. feel so fucking moot. why bother getting invested if its just constantly going to get dragged back up. the "evil streaming service" joke is dead. its BEYOND dead. we havent even heard of the binjlady anymore. its lost any sort of omnious buildup. to me binjpipe's appeal was that it clearly wasnt going to last long. it was a nightmare that was just going to keep on ramping up until it crashed and burned horrendously, and fuck thats SO cool to consider and write about. but they keep dragging it out, and now its just sad. its boring. fucking. selling adult films?? give me a break.

ok about the party packs, HONESTLY SAME. like idk the writing is what really gets me about it tbh. i guess theyre good party games (tho i can get bored really fast, save for roomerang, and even so thats mostly bc of the goofyness of the responses), but YEAH youre so right. like idk if its because theyre ALSO doing the international translations but ithink it goes with the fact that the hosts severely lack character. when its like for some games, its ok if they dont have character (quixort), but its like that means theres A BALANCE. pack 8, ok? games like job job and weapons drawn, that CALLS for the hosts having character because its putting you in a situation WHERE the host is an active part of that situation. its like "wow im really in funny office" or "wow im really doing a murder!!!" right now, yknow? Push the Button, DODE was her own character and had noteworthy quips and she was a vital part of the games story/framing device! todd is iconic bc hes such a chill internet guy and then he sends you to hell! felicia is all morbidly romantic bc youre on a MONSTER DATING SHOW. a lot of the games stand out BECAUSE of the unique situations ur in that envoke unique prompts/unique gameplay, meanwhile something like fixytext? i dont know SHIT about the host. and its kind of a shame that the cannon jackbox lesbian host we have is SO FUCKING BORING GOD. most i can get is that shes introverted, but i gen cant tell if its genuine, if its some kind of "akward bacon unicorn moment! #millenial" type shit, what the fuck even really IS Fixytext at the end of the day. what makes it more than google docs shitposting simulator. its such a fucking shame, esp for the TENTH PACK. like god maybe they rlly do need to take a hiatus bc the change in. writing quality is. idk it just didnt help my dropping fixtation i'll say that.

also wait FR????? JESUS CHRIST thats actually a shame, i wanted to try and play that game!!! (namely bc funny objectum) and like. the ONE naughty pack exclusive host and we get NOTHING about her. i dont even like the fucking conch shell design im sorry. jackbox crew yall are great but how in this green unholy earth do you expect ppl to draw and remember your designs when your hosts are so. flat. fuck, mayonnaise, fucking M BUBZ, is more memorable than nickolas kranrker whatever and dr nanners and jerri, i cant tell you a SINGLE thing about jerri tbh. its such a shame. i want to love these guys i really do but theres nothing that endears them to me.

tbh if they end up not doing anything for ydkj it'll be funny in a kinda sad way tbh. on the one hand it'd BE nice on the other hand yeah its been nothing since full stream, eh. could they even do a YDKJ anymore? i remember once upon a time there was all this hype/discussion of a "ride 2" where the only real roadblock was that buzz's VA has well moved on from voice acting i think, but ppl had ideas for giving him a new voice, maybe even making it a transgender reason, all this stuff. this was like a couple of years back. but its like god i'd be shocked if they even remember guy exists at this point. or nate. hes sorta got a chance given his VA is literally a core part of the crew.

also i getcha. glad i could offer a space to let ya vent like that lawl

roomerang completely fucking fumbled with giving rue any sort of character we could've had a fun host we could've had that snark we could've had ANYTHING to match the sheer amount of swag in her design but we got BASICALLY NOTHING/very vague hints of character ("I'm beside myself... and I look good!" And "dramaaaa!!! :3") which is CRUMBS compared to even the most one note hosts like glargan o'toe or civic doodle's hosts and as petty as it sounds it's kinda the reason I fell out of love with current jackbox </3

.

[fuck-off-im-ace]

Can't believe how direct RSD can be sometimes. Had a small fight with my person a week ago and now its like they're nothing to me. Literally went from being in love and planning my with them to feeling kinda neutral about them. Like i dont hate them, i just. Dont care. They say they love me or say some cute flirty thing and my brain just goes "cool story bro".

Anyway how do you get back your feelings when your brain decided to Ctrl+F4 the whole fucking page? Asking for a friend, literally, cause i dont know what to say to them if i cant go back to how things were.

[hella1975]

so there's a reason my new job got back to me so quickly about my application and that's bc it's an absolute fucking shambles like actually perfect timing for me to decide to rewatch the bear bc i have never more felt like ive been thrown into a broke on-its-knees establishment trying to crawl its way up the ladder where i am somehow a godsend to them. my old job was crazy and shambolic in the sense that the industry is just Like That but this one?????? insanity. every 5 mins i am questioning what im doing with my life. ive already had a walk-in fridge moment

[buttercupshands]

Tried to sketch anything for LoV and my pc just showed blue screen while I did that

I guess he's tired of drawing them too rn

[chaoswithcausation]

I have the self-control of a fucking pro :)

[eddiesxangel]

1-800-HOT-TO-GO | E.M

Anonymous asked: Can i request a fic where either the reader reveals during a pizza and beers hangout she was a phone sex operator for a brief time and everyone is shocked and one of them jokingly asks if she was any good and she whispers something dirty in their ear and it changes their friendship

Cw: fem!reader, allusions to male masturbation, dirty talk 1.7k words

“Come again?”

“I used to work a sex hotline,” you shrug like it was no big deal.

“No way,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”

You hear Steve and the others giggle around you, also in disbelief.

“Wanna bet?”

“Try me.” He wants to call your bluff because no way in hell did he not know this about you. You always were reserved when it came to talking about sex; you never had you seemed promiscuous.

You hold up your hand to your ear, pretending it is a phone, and Eddie follows your lead.

“Ring ring,” he giggles.

“Hello.” You changed the pitch of your voice to be more sultry.

“Hi,” he smirks.

“Can I get a name, handsome?”

“ Eddie”

“Mmmm, hi, Eddie. I’m Candy.”

“Candy?”

He breaks character, but you don’t.

“the boys say it’s because I’m so sweet.” You fake giggle.

“This is my first time calling. I’m not sure what to do here.”

“That’s okay, I’ll walk you through it… you want to get comfortable for me?”

Eddie looks around the room at the others, who are trying to stifle their giggles. This night was supposed to be chill, with pizza and beers. He wasn’t really sure how you all ended up here.

“I’m comfortable.” He says without actually moving.”

“I wish I could see; you sound so sexy.” You sigh.

Another giggle leaves Eddie’s lips because who is this person who’s taken over your body?

“Yeah? you wish you could see be, Dollface?” Playing into it more.

You lean in to whisper so only he can hear it this time. “oh yeah, big boy; I bet your cock is already nice and hard for me. Such a good boy, I want you to fill me.” You sit back, take a loose tendril, twirl his hair around your finger, and watch Eddie’s eyes widen at what you just said.

“Oh-okay, that’s enough.” He chuckles, trying not to give away how turned on he just got. “I believe you!”

You sit back with a giggle and grab another slice of pizza like nothing just happened.

Everyone looked at you with shock.

Eddie quickly gets up and excuses himself to go to the bathroom.

“What did you say?!” Robin begs.

You shrug in response like it was another day at work… which it has been.

“Damn, is it hot in here?” Steve pops the collar of his shirt.

“You guys need to loosen up, my god.”

While you were still enjoying your pizza, Eddie was having a crisis. Never had he thought of you in that way until moments ago, listening to those filthy words slip from your lips.

“I bet your cock is already nice and hard for me. Such a good boy, I want you to fill me,” your words replayed in his mind while he tried to fight the blood rushing to his stiffening cock.

He can’t go back out there like this. Eddie splashed cold water on his face to try to snap him out of it, but it didn’t help.

A quick rap on the door startles Eddie out of his inner monologue.

“You okay, big boy? You’ve been in there fifteen minutes.” He hears you laugh from the other side.

Had it really been that long?

Eddie’s issue had not been resolved; in fact, it had worsened as he tried to push down the thought of you naked and spread out for him… talking to him like that.

“Yeah-I-uh- just a minute.” Eddie wanted to pull his hair out at how frustrated you had made him.

You were just pals, bubbies, amigos.

You weren’t attractive… were you?

Eddie never thought to look at you in that way; you’re just a friend, always had been, always will be… unless?

The more Eddie thought about it, the more he realized he did think your hair looked really pretty tonight. The way you always did your makeup really brought out your beautiful features…and when he got a whiff of your delicious perfume when you twirled his hair, he thought his.

“You sure?” You try to jiggle the door handle, but it’s locked.

“Shit,” Eddie curses under with breath.

“Come on, Ed, talk to me, please?”

You hear the lock unlatch and watch the doorknob slowly turn as Eddie pokes his head out.

“Hi,” he’s short and sounds a bit out of breath.

“I hope what I said didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

Ed saw the worried look in your eyes.

“No! Well, I mean, yes, but…no.”

“Yes, but no?”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. He didn’t see a way out of this. He stepped aside to let you in and shut the door behind you.

“Eddie?” You look up at him.

“Hm?”

His eyes snap to your concerned face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was a big deal! It did it all the time for work; I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. clearly, I overstepped a boundary-“

“You’re not the only one.”

“What do you mean?”

Eddie moves his strategically placed hands to reveal the tent formed in his jeans and watches as your face falls into amused shock.

You cup your mouth to stifle an unexpected giggle.

“That’s not the reaction a guy wants when he shows a girl how turned on he is.”

“I’m sorry, I just!-didn’t think?”

“It’s okay. I’m just trying to get rid of it, but it’s not going away.”

“You mean?”

“I’m waiting it out.”

“Oh, ok.” You nod awkwardly.

An awkward silence washes over the both of you as you try so hard not to stare at his crotch.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask for your help if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Ok…”

Another very uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, trying to do everything in your power so as not to look down.

“I um… I guess I’ll just.” You point to the door that he’s blocking.

“Uh. Ok,” he nods and steps to the side.

You close the door behind you but don’t leave. You lean against the door and take a deep breath, trying to make sense of the evening.

Why did the thought of turning Eddie on excite you? He’s a friend. Just a friend. I always had and always will be.

With a deep breath, you go to push yourself up off the door, but before you’re able to, you hear your name being moaned from the other side of the door.

You froze. You knew you should move, but your feet were locked in place. More heavy breaths and the sound of muffled moans seeped from under the door gap, and you pressed your ear to the door.

Eddie was jerking off because of you… and you liked it?

Eddie bit back screaming your name as he finally released himself into the bathroom tissue. Finally, he could return to rejoin everyone without being physically uncomfortable.

He discarded his release, tucked himself back in, washed his hands, and unlocked the door, but he was ambushed when you fell onto him when he went to open the door.

You let out a squeak as you lost your balance, falling into Eddie as the door was opened from under you.

“Woah,” Eddie catches you before you’re able to fall. His rage hands wrap around your biceps, gripping tightly to brace your fall.

“Were you spying on me?”

“Oh god, sorry” you’re so embarrassed. The whole evening has been one shit show. You scramble to find your fitting to create space between you and Eddie.

“You were spying on me!”

“Shhhhh! Keep your voice down.”

“You totally were spying on me!” He accused.

“You’re the one who moaned my name!” You defend.

Eddie’s cheeks reddened.

“You’re the one who said all those… things!” his hands flailed.

“You’re the one who egged it on!”

“So!”

“So?”

“Yeah, so!”

“Woah, guys, what’s going on here?” Steve pops his head around the corner.

“Nothing,” you both glare.

“Ohhhhhkayyyyyyyy,” Steve turns a heel and walks back to the kitchen to grab a drink.

“Eddie,” you sigh, “I don’t want to argue. This is dumb, and we can pretend it never happened.”

“We could, but I gotta know.”

“What’s that?”

“Did you like it?” He took a step closer, filling the gap between you.

“What?” You look up at him.

“I asked if you like listening to me?” he brushed your hair behind your shoulder.

You gulp, not expecting Eddie’s demeanour to switch on a dime.

“I… I don’t know?”

“I think you did, and you’re too scared to admit it.” You can smell him. He is so close to you.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You watch as he leans in closer.

“Just trust me.” His hands find the back of your neck, pulling you close.

“Eddie?”

“Let me try something.”

“Kay,” you whisper.

Eddie’s lips graze yours ever so lightly before he presses them fully.

A million and one thoughts run through your mind as Eddie kisses you.

You blame the cheap beer for letting this happen. You blame the beer for liking it. You blame the beer for kissing him back. You blame the beer for the tongue slip and the beer for how you wanted to moan when he pulled away.

“Woah”

“Yea woah,” you repeated dumbly.

“um… did you like it?”

“Yeah… did you?”

“Yeah.”

“cool… now what?”

“go out with me,” Eddie states confidently.

“Like a date?”

“what else would it be?” He chuckles.

“I don’t know?” You shrug, embarrassed that Eddie is getting you all flustered.

“You’re cute when you don’t know what to say.” He smirks.

“I’m cute?” You never thought hearing Eddie say those words would send butterflies fluttering through your tummy.

Eddie doesn’t answer verbally; he leans in to kiss you again to confirm his statement.

“We should get back to the others.” You sigh as you pull away.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“You didn’t ask me anything.”

“Yes, I did. I asked you out.”

“No, you said go out with me. That’s a statement, not a question.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No,” Yes, you were totally messing with him.

“Will you go out on a date with me?”

“Just say yes! You’ve been gone for half an hour!” You hear Robin yell from the living room.

“Robin!” You hear Steve scold.

“What?”

You can’t help but laugh and can’t believe the next world’s coming out of your mouth.

“Okay, I’ll go out with you, Eddie.”

[reyalvr]

SHE'S MINE | 01

I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊  3.2k

author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!

prev. | next

KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…

But it wasn’t. 

He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face. 

You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up? 

“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?” 

Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” 

Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.

“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you. 

You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him. 

“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his. 

Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate. 

“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”

Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on. 

“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.” 

Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.

“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”

“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.” 

You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-” 

You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”

He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson. 

Shit. Strike two. 

You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”

Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him. 

“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag. 

He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself. 

“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance. 

“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours. 

“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.

Strike three. 

THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours. 

Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger. 

He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence. 

“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you. 

“No.” You replied bluntly.

“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up. 

“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”

You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place. 

“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking. 

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat. 

And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices. 

It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd. 

It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.

“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system. 

“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”

At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.” 

“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.” 

“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone. 

For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.

You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on. 

“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something. 

“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” 

He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”

“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously. 

“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”

“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board. 

“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely. 

“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words. 

He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.

“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 

He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off. 

“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”

“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan. 

“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. 

He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything. 

“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”

He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.

“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.” 

He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door. 

“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.” 

Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in. 

Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while. 

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.” 

You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features. 

He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” 

Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation. 

“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.” 

“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine. 

Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being. 

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

[strawberrymatchawhore]

p power

rafe cameron

“take it from him and i leave him with nothing”

summary- john b cheats on you with sarah cameron you get revenge by getting with her brother

warning- DUBCON, sex under the influence, raw sex (wrap it folks), drinking, smoking, partying, fighting, sex tape (reader knows hes recording but doesnt know he sent it to her ex), semi public beach house sex, meanish pussy drunk rafe lol

you took a hit of your pen, gently coughing from the amount you just inhaled. you were currently in your boyfriends room, confronting him. you had caught john b cheating on you with sarah cameron, kook princess and someone you thought was your friend.

“can you not do that in my room? take this seriously.” john b said swiping his hands in the air to get rid of the cloud puffs floating. you scoffed, the audacity.

“i dont give a fuck about what youre asking for me to do right now john b, you cannot be for real about me taking this seriously.”

“i dont know what to tell you, she was going through something. she needed me.” john b gave his bullshit excuse which made you even more angry.

“what about me, did you even think about me for one bit before you decided to fuck her ?” you screamed at him, getting up from the couch ready to leave the room. as you have your hand on handle, john b grabs it. his large hand covers yours.

“i love you.. please” he pleads, eyes getting wetter.

“dont touch me with that dirty ass hand john b, i shouldve known. no matter how much i showed my love for you, no matter how much i cared. you will always choose her.” you gritted through your teeth.

“i-”

“no, its okay. im done with this shit.” your voice cracks and you slam the door in front of john b's face, driving away with tears blurring your vision.

AT THE PARTY

you strut your way into the party, the annual bonfire that happens the same week every year. you grab a pink solo cup and fill it to the brim with jungle juice. you had already pregamed before and begged your friend to drive you here, laughing at yourself when you caught yourself tripping over the pile of beer cans on the floor. obvious that you were feeling the effects of the weed and alcohol combining.

you were tired, physically and mentally, you couldnt deal with anyones bullshit anymore. especially after what happened earlier in the day, you just needed a break.

“what are you doing here ?” you heard a voice question from behind, you turned and saw rafe cameron looking at you up and down.

“oh hey rafey, nothing honestly just trying to forget shit you know ?” you down the rest of your drink and turn again to retrieve another cup. before you can take a sip out of it, it gets knocked down by rafe. who angrily walks over to john b and sarah cameron who were conversing with each other in the corner.

oh shit

“the fuck are you doing bro? chill.” john b says and backs up. sarah tries to intervene by calling his name and you just stand there interested in what was about to happen.

“you feel good about yourself ??” rafe pushes john b, getting ready to instigate a fight. you fight the urge to run up and defend your man. but you stayed still.

this is what he deserves

sarah cameron stops her brother in his tracks and tries to stop him, he ignores her.

oh yeah try to get him to stop, cheater.

“looks like you got my sloppy seconds... good luck with that. shes a real handful” john b insensitively says, rafe continues his way toward him. and within a second throws a hard punch to his face. john b falls to the ground and rafe looks over him.

“you like that shit johnny ? huh ?” he moves and hovers over john b's body, and continues to beat him unconscious. kiaras dad finally pulls them apart, and you walk over to rafe checking to see if he was okay. sarah starts to angrily push rafe, but he doesnt budge.

“sarah you better stop that shit before you end up on the ground just like john b.” you glared at her angrily and pushed her away before gently grabbing rafes arm and walking away with him.

……..

“jeez rafe you really fucked him up…” you said while wiping the blood off his knuckles with disinfectant. he winces when you finishes it off with ointment.

“yeah i dont know what i was thinking, i just.. its just that he pisses me off so much an-” rafe drunkingly rambled, you hesitated. but then losing to your own thoughts you grab his face and kiss him. you quickly pull away fluttering your lashes, mouth slightly open. taking short deep breaths in and out, nothing but the sound of waves crashing could be heard.

“fuck im sorry.” your voice cracked, tears forming in your eyes. you even shocked yourself with that action, moving your hand from your face you fidget with your bikini top. rafe then gently grabs your face and makes eye contact, kissing back but with more passion. everything in the room starts to blur and your focus is only on him. he pulls away and begins to hover over you. cornering you further into the plush couch.

“nah don’t apologize.. just kiss me back” rafe whispers into your ear making his way down to your neck, giving it light kisses and sucks. his hands wander around your body, you begin to grow desperate and grind yourself onto his thigh, hands rubbing his back. you grabbed his hair to pull him closer to you, he groans in response.

"you dont understand how badly i want you.." he kisses you deeper.

"..how badly i wanted to do this." he backs up and takes off his shirt, his abs and buff body glistening from the ocean water combined with the low light of the moon. he lowers himself and his hands reach for your bottoms, untying them then tossing them onto the floor.

your breathing hitches when you feel his cool breath on your pussy, rafes arms grab at your thighs and spread your legs open.

"oh fuckkk" you lightly moaned when you felt his tongue on your clit making slow but rough licks. rafe laughs and moans into you, sending vibrations throughout your whole body. he looks up at your and makes eye contact with your glossy glazed over eyes.

"you taste so fucking good." he continues to lap at your juices, you looked at the blonde. dazed and memorized by how pretty he was. forgetting all your worries and troubles because of how good he worked his mouth. it was over for you when you felt his fingers prod at your entrance.

the combination of his long thick fingers sliding in and out of your wet pussy and his mouth on your clit drove you over the edge.

"fuck, you gonna cum f'me? please cum baby." he slurps and fingers you faster, your chest heaves up and down before you cum all over his face and make a mess. but rafe doesnt stop there, he removes his fingers and uses both his arms to hold your legs open. continuing to eat you out.

"oh my go- fu- please.. too much! rafe please sto-" you mewl trying to close your legs to no avail.

"uh uh stay still f'me" rafe tuts, eventually he stops and gets up, his mouth and chin dripping with your juices. he grabs your jaw and kisses you before taking off his shorts, the classic calvin klein banding accentuates his v line and you could see his bulge.

you sit up and your fingers hook at the band and pull his boxers down, immediately his cock springs up and hits his stomach. your eyes widened.

"its not gonna fit." you say, his tip is leaking with precum and you fight the urge to swallow him whole right then and there.

"dont worry it will." his hand pushes you back down and he uses his knees to spread your legs. rafe starts to rub himself up and down your pussy, circuling his tip around your clit. and you let out a satisfied hum. he was fighting the urge to just shove himself completely inside you and fuck you deep into the couch. rafe eyes your phone, and leans over to grab it.

he hovers the phone over your face and unlocks it, opening your messages app. he clicks on john bs contact and sees that he left 30+ texts, laughing at the idiot rafe then clicks on the camera feature.

“rafe w-what are you doing?" you asked, closing your legs shyly. your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"dont worry, just trust me." rafe responds, leaning down to kiss you sloppily before he pressed record on the camera. using his free hand to push your thighs apart he moves the camera closer to your bodies, your lower body and his are in view. rafe then uses his fingers to spread your lips, showing the camera your slick. he slides two fingers inside you and gives it a few pumps before he removed them.

"open up f'me." he gently taps your cheek and slides the two fingers into your now open mouth. his long fingers caressing your tongue, automatically you start to suck his fingers. cleaning them.

"thats it... good job baby." he admires the way your plump swollen lips wrapped around his fingers, at this point his cock was aching in need to pump you full of his cum. he must have you.

"please rafe.. need you." you whined and looked up at him, watery eyed and pupils blown. you desperately moved your hips, and thank god he started to rub your aching pussy with his cock again. the both of you were hungry and needy. gentle whines filled the room, and rafe eventually slid himself in.

"oh fuck." rafe dragged out, slowly pushing deeper and deeper inside you.

"youre so tight, holy shit. mmmmm." bottoming out he stayed there for a moment to let you adjust. he was so long and thick, you felt every vein on it in your walls. you seriously had nothing to say, no words could have been let out to describe what you were feeling right now. pure ecstasy.

the both of you continued to say nothing as rafe sped up, drilling harder and faster into your wet pussy. his balls slapping against you ass, nothing could be heard besides moaning and the sound of his rough thrusts. you could barely see anything aside from rafes figure but you were sure that his back and biceps were now covered in scratch marks from you. the bright flash of the camera blinding you, you've never been filmed like this before. and the thought of you being slut out on camera made you even more wet.

"such a good fucking slut for me, youre takin' me so well." his free hand gripping tight on the fat of your hips to guide himself against your sweet spot.

"oh FUCK!" you let out a combination of a moan and scream when he continued to hit that spot, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

"does your ex fuck you like this?" he slows down his pace, but you were too fucked up to respond.

"huh?" he asked and slid out just to snap hips back into you bringing you back to reality.

"no! oh fu- youre so much bigger.." you moaned, your pussy leaving a white ring at the base of rafes cock.

"yes yes yes. ah!" you whined when he sped up, which you didnt think was possible. rafe was pounding you so hard you were seeing stars. your hand went to cover your mouth but rafe slapped it away, and put it on your lower stomach.

"dont do that i wanna hear you moan f'me."

"you feel that?" rafe asked, you could see his cock bulging from your stomach.

"god- squeezing me so fucking tight..." rafe grunted, and lowered his hand to rub circles on your clit. your mouth slack and open, boobs bouncing up and down from rafes thrusts.

rafe wasnt even sure if he was getting all of this on frame, he was jackhammering into you like he hated you. he relished in the way your cunt clenched around him like you were made for him. and he was sure you were. all perfect, pretty and stupid for him.

"rafe i feel like im gonna pee, stop!" you screamed out and gripped his bicep. your stomach burned in pleasure and you felt like it was going to explode.

"pl-please oh my god, oh... my"

"thats it baby, squirt all over my fucking cock. youre so pretty like this." your eyes started water even more, he was fucking you so good you stared crying. overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions and feelings.

"so cute when you cry for me, if you keep doing that im gonna cum inside you." embarrassed you turn your head away and shake your head, the squelching and sight of your cunt was so sloppy and messy. rafe gripped your jaw and forced you to look at the camera.

"open your eyes sweetheart, keep looking at me." his fingers made their way down to your throat and squeezed.

"fuck." he whimpered, rafe has never done that before. the both of you were shocked but youve never been turned on this much.

"mmm keep doing that, you sound so fucking hot rafe." you urged him.

"im gonna cum, can i cum inside you? please baby" he begged, his thrusts becoming less controlled.

"yes, fuck. i need you to fill me right now. i wanna see your cum dripping out of me, breed me." the both of you were whiney, your cheeks were wet and your legs were shaking and sore.

"shit, you are so perfect.. this pussys so p-perfect." rafes body was tired, rutting into you like you were nothing but a fleshlight. his tip twitching inside you before he came deep into your cervix, making sure to push every ounce of his seed inside you before pulling out. and filming your dripping cunt before he ended the video.

rafe didnt have evil intentions but he wanted to let john b know what he lost, who would want to miss out on a girl like you?

*attached video*

"shes busy rn bro"

5 hours later you were laying next to a knocked out rafe, finally sobering up you went to check your phone. the most recent message being from none other than your ex.

why is he spam texting me?

"what the fuck? youre such a bitch" the text read, confused and curious you decided to scroll up. only to get surprised by a video of you and rafe from earlier. you dropped the phone in shock and turned to see rafe who woke up from the sudden sound. you picked your phone back up and shoved the phone into rafes face.

“what the fuck is this rafe?!"

[ishizizzle]

My 19-yo manager got upset off someone else's energy and talked to me stupid. I cared for hours longer than I should but thankfully, I'm growing apathetic to the whole person

[hella1975]

just full force threw a shoe at my sister's face and when my mum got me alone after she was like 'you shouldn't clobber her. but i get it' 😭

[myunghology]

twisted wonderland 2nd years, except they're helplessly in love.

pairings ; riddle, ruggie, azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, silver x gn! reader. (seperate).

tw ; none.. unless it's a bit too cheesy..?

a/n ; my first twst work.. im terrified!!

☆ — RiDDLE ROSEHEARTS

nope. will not allow it. he has his priority- which is his grades. he won't allow himself to be distracted by you. (more below the cut!)

but you are gorgeous tho, he'll admit that.

oh, would you look at that.. he's been distracted.

other students, even students outside heartslabyul are getting a bit weirded out, like what do you mean he's stopping in his tracks just to watch you pass by.

doesn't even notice it himself that he's staring at you. it's about time he notices that he'd stopped walking is when floyd smacked his head..

well, to be fair, he's noticed himself that he gets nervous whenever he invites you to unbirthday parties, he feels like everything has to be perfect.

—which is why some heartslabyul students are kinda annoyed when you come. only because they have to do so much with riddle pressuring them every 10 minutes. they like you generally though!

plus riddle seems more relaxed when you're around. that's just a bonus though! (is it really)

cater has multiple pictures of riddle just staring at you— his gaze softening whenever his eyes land on you instinctively.

he offers to hold open the door for you whenever you run into each other outside the classrooms, he offers to help you whenever you ever get injured playing some sport, and he even let's you borrow his notes if you were absent in class for a good reason.

sure, maybe he might be a bit arrogant, and a bit of a cry baby, and definitely strict— but he has respect for everyone. especially you.

riddle rosehearts is truly, a gentleman in a world full of boys.

☆ — RUGGiE BUCCHi

him? in love? absolutely.

if ruggie was in love, it'll probably be obvious. he tries to hide it though,, but it's clear he isn't good at that.

he's pretty chill around you though, nothing too awkward.

let me tell you this, whenever you ask him for a request, he'll want something back. no, he isn't gonna ask for a kiss or a date. stop imagining that.

he wants you to pay him back by a favor, so that he can pull the "you owe me a favor, since i did ___ for you." card.

okay maybe then he'll ask you on a date. or he'll ask you to steal something from a student.

what can i say.. it's 50/50.. slowly leaning onto the date idea though.

ruggie isn't oblivious, or stupid either. he knows when he's in love. he's just too afraid to admit it. sometimes leona makes fun of him for being a "wimp" and to just confess.

also stares at you, but in class this time. bro isn't listening at all actually because he's too busy looking at you.

maybe i will admit that ruggie is a little shit but he's actually a sweetheart when he wants to be. it's a win/win situation if you like annoying guys but has a soft spot for you.

spoiler: he eventually sucks it tf up and soon confesses.

☆ — AZUL ASHENGROTTO

azul may be a tad bit conscious about what you think about him. screw that- he's definitely conscious about what you think about him. from not only about what happened during his overblot and from his insecurities.

he knows you aren't that type of person, but he can't help it.

it makes him feel a million times better when you reassure him though. even if it's making him a bit delusional.. but then again you might be saying that just because you pity him.

"or maybe they're just nice and they actually care have you ever thought of that" - floyd

you go to monstro lounge about once a week, and for sure, azul has sent jade and floyd to take care of you well, since of couse, most of the time he's busy.

floyd almost exposed azul's crush on you once when you two were chatting, thankfully jade was there to cover his mouth before he continued speaking.

but when he is actually there face to face actually talking to you, he sounds smug but in reality, he's a nervous wreck in the inside. you obviously know that though.

wait till you tell him that you find him cute..

he explodes

no i'm joking, he's just blushing really hard. like.. too much. again- it's kinda obvious that he likes you whenever you compliment him.

☆ — JADE LEECH

so, so respectful when talking to you. still a bit teasing though. he offers to help you even if you're carrying just one thing.

always glad to see you when you're visiting monstro lounge, floyd loves you just as much, but in a platonic way! he isn't going to steal jades version of his 'shirmpy'.

tried to make a drink thats named by you, azul didn't allow it, unfortunately. (for him). i'd be embarrassed tbh.

in your opinion jade is a bit weird.. but he's still super nice to you, no matter how weird this guy seems. he would never do anything that would make you uncomfortable.

similar to riddle- he opens doors for you, sometimes offers to cook for you, and sometimes treats you whenever you're at montro lounge. only if azul allows it though, which is pretty rare. like jade wtf dym "its on the house" no it's not shut up.

you sometimes wonder if his mushrooms are safe to eat or not.

it's probably best not to ask him though.

he may or may have not tried breaking into your dorm room because you weren't attending class and you weren't responding to his messages asking where you were. it was all on concern tho don't worry i swe-

genuinely doesn't have a problem with confessing, but he only confesses until he's confident that you like him back.

trigger warning for floyd though since he's probably gonna pop out anytime soon during the confession..

☆ — FLOYD LEECH

my condolences if he ever likes you.

just kidding, it'd be pretty fun if floyd started to like you. only if you really like his bone crushing hugs.

doesn't hide his crush on you at all, you gotta be super oblivious if you don't notice it if he didn't even confess to you yet the moment he finds out that he likes you.

you're definitely scared shitless whenever you see him. when you try to run away he chases you around the halls and he's so damn fast, it's nearly impossible to escape him.

plus- his mood swings too? who knows if he'll get excited when you run away from him or if he's gonna get pissed off.. but mostly he gets excited though.

has kabedoned you one, too many times. mostly to fluster you, but also to get your attention.

easily gets jealous- especially when someone else hugs you for a long time. no one can hug his shrimpy except him! he isn't possessive, that's just how floyd is.

also stares at you in class- but throws paper airplanes at you, with the writings inside saying "HI".

ends up getting in trouble because either he got caught, or riddle snitched. most likely the second one tho.

drags you to monstro lounge to help him clean up his OWN messes, but he (might) have intentionally done this to spend time with you..

☆ — KALiM AL-ASiM

probably one of the best people ever to have a crush on you if that even makes sense..

spoils you rotten, even more than when he spoils his friends which is obviously already huge. wanna buy something online but can't? he's already asking for the link so he can buy it for you!

you obviously feel bad whenever he does this, so you try to remind him that he doesn't have to do all of this stuff for you.

not only with gifts, he spoils you rotten with affection too. you feel bad for jamil as well, he seems annoyed, but as long as kalim's happy.

very very respectful and nice to you, and will stop anything you don't want him to do anytime, he sometimes flirts with you unintentionally too..

hugs you literally at literally any chance he gets, he's also pretty clingy, if you haven't noticed that yet.

shows you off to other scarabia students, it's pretty obvious that he has a crush on you too.

bro's lovesick

gets so upset when something happens to you because of him, worries that people will try to do some crazy shit to you as well because you have a good connection with him..

introduces you to his family like you're his wife or something.. and then when you ask him what are you guys he'll go:

"are we not engaged" "NO??"

he was fully convinced that you guys were dating already

he's a little bit delusional but that's ok..

☆ — JAMiL ViPER

like riddle, jamil does not have the time to fall in love with someone since he's already busting his ass off taking care of kalim.. and with his academics too. plus the overblot situation but we don't talk about that.

maybe you are a little bit scared of him as well, but little do you know this guy will literally adjust for you anytime. it's really hard to see though when he does.

VERY hard to see that he has a crush on you though. you'd confess and he'd be like,

"i gave you so much signs what do you mean i might not like you back"

you were starstruck when you heard him say that. what does he mean signs. does he mean when he glared at you in class..? you thought you did something wrong for a second.

like floyd, kalim once almost exposed jamil for liking you accidentally.. don't get me wrong, jamil didn't tell kalim anything, he just found out himself.

jamil definitely likes you trying his culture's food, especially if he cooked it himself! it's not obvious, but he lets a small smile creep up onto his lips.

studies with you too if you're ever having a hard time. studying? nah, more like tutoring.. he's kinda harsh at first but then softens up a bit when he sees that you're really struggling.

☆ — SiLVER

im sure we all know silver is a generally pretty reserved person. and that doesn't change even when he's crushing on you.

but you do notice him stealing glances from time to time whenever you walk past him, lilia definitely asks him about that.

he may be a tad bit more open with you than others? but it's purely because he trusts you.

you sometimes tie his hair to the hairstyle called "apple hair" when he's sleeping and he doesn't notice even when he wakes up, he only notices after looking at a mirror..

genuinely doesn't mind though. lilia thinks it's adorable (he also thinks you guys are perfect for each other)

and that's why lilias opinions are always important..

generally, you guys usually talk through chat because you two don't really have the time to talk to each other physically.

but still, he still thinks you're beautiful. even if he can't see you all the time. this dynamic is kinda like a hallway crush typebeat..??

lilia is your number 1 fan alongside malleus!! sebek still has mixed feelings but he likes you generally! he just isn't sure if he likes you for silver.. or if he's not sure if he likes silver for you.. does that make sense?

after awhile he joins malleus and lilia.

©myunghology

[gamblersdoll]

cw: semi cheating trope, cucking, doggy style, masturbation (m) spitting, katsuki being really mean in this one, slapping.

this felt dirty and wrong, izuku thought. the way he felt about you was greater than his past crush for ochaco, yet here he was. the obsessive and adoration he had for you was no match, but here he was.

here he was pressing down on katsuki’s head as he went down on izuku, him slightly gagging on his length and pushing away. “fuck– you getting too rough, deku.” he spits, glaring up at him. “calm down this time.”

he nods, eyes filled with lust and his judgement clouded. he didnt notice the two missed calls you had given him, nor the four missed messages. his fingers trail through katsuki’s head, yet his balls lurched when katsuki licked his lips.

“zuku, what are you—“ you say, opening the door and looking at your phone. until your eyes meet the two, katsuki on his knees while izuku sits on his bed, manspreading.

both of their hearts thump, a cold nervous sweat on both of their faces and hands as you just stand there, bewildered. your heart clenches, feeling sadness, but more of disappointment and rage filling your veins.

“baby—“ izuku starts, but gets cut off by you.

“nah nah, fuck you!” you shout, turning around and slamming the door. it had to be about nine in the evening, so everyone was already downstairs chilling out.

it took you about a month or two to settle your nerves, feeling rage and betrayal from him just getting his dick sucked from his childhood friend.

a friend who also just so happen to be friends with you, surprisingly. thats what threw you off, katsuki just so suddenly became friends with you and wasn’t completely an ass to you. you at first thought nothing of it, but now it made sense.

your mind stops thinking, your ears and eyes being drawn to the message ping on your phone. izuku had texted, asking to meet in his dorm to talk.

should you even fucking bother? maybe. let hear what this bitch had to say.

“so— first i want to say im so sorry.” he starts, hands on his bouncing knees and eyes darting around. he picked at his nails, katsuki having to pull his hands apart. that only added salt to the wound, because what the fuck was he doing here?

“and why does bakugou have to be here for this?” you ask, growing impatient and tapping your foot. he looks up to your eyes, the glare you gave was mean, hurting his heart.

the “because he has involvement with this— its not what you think!” he quickly says, hands up in defense and looking to you and katsuki.

“so..”

“uhum–“ he tried, swallowing thickly and takes a deep breath. “so.. you remember when i told you i was bi, right? before we got together?” he starts, knee bouncing faster harder. you nod, eyes raised in a “yeah, no shit.” look. “well.. kacchan and i had been talking since we made up, and we started to like you as well.”

youre feet stop tapping, heart stopping and you start a glare. “hold on! and we started to like you and it kinda separated us for a couple weeks, thats when me and you were first dating and we had that big fight that you had to separate.” he rambles, katsuki flicking him to stay on topic.

“and uh, me and kacchan made up again after you both became friends and we wanted to ask you in person if you could give a threeway a shot!”

you just stare, looking at the both of them and watching katsuki just lean back. that made your blood boil, the way hes just acting all casual.

katsuki notices, manspreading himself and staring right back at you. “if you got something to say, say it.” he states, testing to see who and what you were.

you say nothing, biting your tongue and looking back to the green haired boy. “that’s absolutely bullshit and you know it.” you say, finding that shit unbelievable and quite frankly, offensive. “you mean to tell me that you both were fucking on the down low and then i just peaked both of your interest, you got together with me and all of a sudden you want a three way?”

“aint that what he just said?” katsuki finally speaks and chimes in, eyebrow raised.

you feel like a snapping point, like your ready to reach across and slap the fuck out of him for even speaking to you at all. “you can shut the fuck up, baku—“

at that point, he had heard enough between you and izuku. he reaches out, grabbing you by your throat and giving a slight choke. your thighs quiver, it being an instant trigger for you to become a mess.

“kacc—!”

“nah, you took too long with your fuckin’ delivery.” he says, hand groping a breast and leading you to the bed. “youre the one who told me this the shit she likes, so i’m fuckin’ her.”

and if those words werent a trigger for you, it was for izuku. his cock grows hard, his shorts becoming a restriction to his length and he groans.

katsuki’s lips crash onto yours, him effortlessly taking a hand and freeing himself from his boxers and tapping it against your skin. “you want it, dont you?” he teases, ripping the shorts off of your skin and rubbing circles into your clit.

his hand pries open your mouth, his eyes lowering. “open.” he says, curling his lips and spitting into your wet cavern. he looks over to izuku, izuku already freeing himself and spitting on his own length. “you see that there?” he points, whispering in your ear.

“thats what he does when he thinks about me fucking you like some common whore.” he reveals, chuckling in your ear. “he been waitin’ for this, to see me fuck you relentless and he watch.” he says again, slapping your clit and pinching it.

“zuku—“ your voice tries, sounding hoarse and katsuki focusing on your face now. he lands a somewhat hard slap to it, forcing you to look only at him.

“dont look at him, why are you looking at him? whos about to fuck you?” katsuki presses, fingers digging their way into your walls. “huh? whos about to fuck this pussy hm?”

you stutter, the intrusion being too much and you claw at his skin. “katsuki! shit—“

“yeah, thats right. im the one fucking you, not him. he assures, fingers finished from curling inside onto your gspot and forcing themselves into your mouth. “you dont get to cum, yet, either.”

you suckle on his fingers, eyes rolling back from the sheer force of his demands and tossing. he flips you over, face in the mattress and him grabbing you by your hips. shit, could you do this? doggy you cant even handle with izuku.

you try to look up, only catching a glimpse of izuku fisting his cock and his face flushed.

you squeal, feeling the heat from katsuki’s tip slip inside of your walls and hitting that spot already. the spot that hadnt been touched in however long you and izuku hadnt talked. “fuck, i can see what you mean by her being a tight space.” katsuki groans, hand gripping a hip and shoulder blade.

he starts immediately thrusting at such a violent place, but you knew he was going to be like that. “some fucking girlfriend you fuckin’ had!” katsuki laughs, his hips snapping into yours and balls slapping at your clit. “just some fucking whore that needed a good dick!”

you moan into the mattress, drooling against it and eyes rolling harder to your skull. you clawed at the sheets, hearing izuku lose himself in his fist as he watched his fuck buddy, his childhood best friend fuck his pretty girlfriend.

you choke, his cock angled at a different spot that had never been used or touched. “oh shit, you havent fucked her this way either, huh?” he grins, his hips angling themselves better and he spits onto the curve of your back. “yeah? he doesnt fuck you good like i do, huh?” he asks, a harsh slap to your ass.

“no— no no fuck!” you moan, going stupid from the intrusion, the sheer force of his hips alone making you go dumb. your tummy clenched, feeling your clit throb more than anything until it hurt.

“fuck, shes about to cum, deku.” he growls in a praise, his palms pressing down on your lower back as he slams his bodyweight into the thrusts.

you squeal, that coil tightening and hearing izuku lose himself in his own orgasm at the same time. you had missed hearing him cum, you both usually always have a simultaneous orgasm together at the same time.

“cum in her— breed her pussy please, kacchan.” he pleads, his hand shines with his seed and sweat that came from fucking his cock.

katsuki loses himself in a matter of time, approximately two minutes after you both had came and it was all because of how good you felt and that izuku just wanted to watch you get fucked by his childhood friend. his own rival.