#i was half expecting him to stamp his foot and pout a bit. just to sell it

[oh-no-who-took-my-sushi]

Kinda obsessed with how Solas just had a temper tantrum at rook for 5 minutes and then the game said we "traded verbal jabs". okay.

[scoops-aboy86]

Hot & Heavy

Prompt Used: Back to school shopping (@thehairandthebanished) and service dom (@steddiesmuttyseptember) | Hot & Heavy | Rating: E | CW: weight gain, feeding kink, outgrown clothes, humiliation kink, dom/sub dynamics | Additional Tags: chubby Eddie Munson, feeder Steve Harrington, semi-public sex, anal fingering, anal plug, spit kink, spit as lube

also on A03

“It’s stupid,” Eddie whines. “I’ve done senior year twice already, what the fuck use is a third round going to do?”

Steve just sits patiently on the other side of his parents’ couch, an eyebrow raised and twirling his keys on one finger. Every once in a while he gives them a little toss and catches them again without even looking, then goes back to spinning. 

Eddie scowls and crosses his arms over his chest, ignoring how this makes his shirt ride up a bit more than it had been already. “Don’t look at me like that.”

A shrug, and another little toss. “I’m not looking at you like anything. Just wondering why you signed yourself up if you didn’t want to go.”

Which hits a little too close to home, because yeah, Eddie had done that. Uncle Wayne wouldn’t judge him for getting his GED instead. It’s his own personal crusade, and he does want to, he just…

“I need new pants,” Eddie admits in something that’s half grumble, half whine.

And he knows, he knows it’s his own fault. He’s spent the whole summer coasting on Steve’s generosity, ever since skulking outside during the second graduation he hadn’t been allowed to partake in had sent Steve, ducking out of a gym full of happy families congratsing their grads, stumbling right into him. Eddie hadn’t graduated and Steve’s parents hadn’t shown, off on some indefinite business trip or something, so they’d decided to be miserable together. At least the Harringtons had sent their only kid a cake, and after sharing a couple joints Steve hadn’t had any qualms about letting Eddie go to town on it. 

They’d kept spending time together after that. Around the time they’d started making out whenever they got bored, Eddie opted to take a break from most of his dealing to hang out either at Steve’s air conditioned house or the cool (if slightly sticky) parlor of Scoops Ahoy. And the more they made out, the more sweet treats Steve offered him. All kinds of food really. It had gone to Eddie’s head in a way he’d never expected because, before, he’d always eaten as a means to get by. Steve opened his eyes to enjoying food, the flavors and the textures and savoring it all as he chewed, and when Eddie got going like that he didn't want to stop. Even when he physically couldn’t bring himself to eat more, he still asked for it; asked for Steve to feed it to him, to push at the boundaries of too much for him while Eddie’s mind went fuzzy with static and sensory-dominating fullness, finally quiet instead of spinning at a hundred miles per hour. Sometimes he’d doze off, and Steve would just let him sleep there, on the couch at first then more and more often in his bed. Always with a snack ready for when he woke up. 

It shows on his waistline, his arms and legs, and in the roundness of his face. Absolutely none of the weight has gone to his ass, he’s still flat as a pancake back there. None of this bothers him, exactly, but the problem remains; he barely fits into his jeans anymore. Even when he does squeeze into them they bite, and the hair tie holding the button in the vicinity of the hole it should fit into is barely cutting it anymore. 

“Eds,” Steve says, still annoyingly patient, “you need more than just new pants.”

Eddie huffs, resisting the impulse to look down at himself. Doesn’t need to know exactly how much of his belly (which took the brunt of his gain, in lieu of his ass) is showing out the bottom of his shirt to know that he feels an indecent amount of draft down there where it juts out over his lap. 

“Even your shoes don’t fit,” Steve adds, not unkindly. 

“Yeah, well.” Now Eddie is resisting the urge to stamp his foot and pout, but that’s too dramatic even for him. “I can’t afford to get new ones, alright?”

Steve finally stops spinning his keys with a pointed look. “So let me help you out, man.”

“I’m not letting you take me shopping, Steve.”

~

A few days later, Eddie lets Steve take him shopping. 

But they talk it out a lot, first. Because Steve, despite his former monarch status at Hawkins High, has never strong-armed him into anything—insists it’s impossible to do so, in fact, and Eddie appreciates that. Autonomy is very important to him. 

To a point. Which is why they had so much to talk about. 

As they pull up at a mall a few hours drive away from Hawkins, Eddie starts brushing the wrappers from the last road trip fast food stop onto the floor and attempting to wipe the remaining burger grease from between his fingers and the corners of his mouth. He hefts himself out of the Beemer’s passenger seat with a stifled belch and a shower of the little slivers of fries that were small enough to fall unnoticed while he was eating. Doesn’t even blink, just kicks the car door shut behind him and follows Steve’s lead inside. He’s full enough that he drifts along behind a little sluggishly, damp with sweat by the time they get there and grateful for the blast of air conditioning as soon as they do. 

“Shoes first,” Steve announces, and steers him in the direction of the nearest shoe store. 

Getting off his feet is already a relief. Eddie pays very little attention as Steve talks to the salesman, preoccupied with resetting his bloated belly over his straining waistband and studded belt that’s on its very last notch. (It’s less comfortable than the hair tie, but that had snapped while he was getting dressed, so.) 

They’re just here for sneakers, in a wide size. All he needs to do is sit back on the padded bench and put his feet where directed. First, to measure. Then to try on a few different pairs, although… 

Steve provides commentary on how they look, because Eddie can’t really see them once they’re on. Not without bending over further than he cares to on a still-full stomach. But he provides feedback on how they feel—whether the support is any good, if they punch in the toe or beneath the laces, that sort of thing—and that’s enough. Every time he has to walk to test them for fit and comfort in action, he shoots Steve a petulant look for help and Steve lends him a hand getting up. It’s part of the game they’re playing: Eddie gets to see Steve’s biceps flex, and Steve gets to feel the weight he’s been so instrumental in piling onto Eddie’s once scrawny frame; it’s a win-win. 

They leave the store with a box tucked under Steve’s arm and comfy new sneakers on Eddie’s feet. 

Next is the record store. It’s a chain, but they have a decent selection of new and used band shirts. Eddie once again finds somewhere to sit while Steve browses for him, knowing his favorite bands well enough by now to come back with plenty of decent options in his size. The one drawback of all Eddie’s recent indulgence is that, eventually, typical merch simply won’t be big enough to fit… but he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it. Denim vests come in all sorts of sizes, so he can always make a new battle jacket if need be.

“Do I have to pick?” he whines, and Steve just smiles indulgently and buys them all. 

~

Finally, they arrive at the department store. 

By now Eddie is a little more tuned in. He starts to notice people glancing at him—which he’s used to, really, as the resident Freak of Hawkins. Only, none of these strangers are staring because of his long unruly hair or his dark, ripped clothes and Dio splashed across his back. No, now people stare because he’s gotten fat, yet still has the audacity to go out in public with his shirt riding up his jiggling belly, deep navel on display beneath the straining fabric and the hang of his gut hiding the way his fly won’t stay zipped even with the belt. There’s something about the judgment in their eyes that hits different from just being seen as a nerd, Satanist, and trailer trash super senior. Eddie tugs fruitlessly at the bottom of his shirt just to make sure, just to make them fully aware of how poorly it fits, and feels himself start to chub up in his already uncomfortable jeans. His hand slips down to cup the bottom of his belly so it doesn’t wobble as much as he picks up the pace to keep up with Steve, reveling in its plush, pliable weight. 

How many of those watching right now can see his cheeks heat, notice him bite his bottom lip, and wonder in disgust if he’s thinking about more food?

… Well, now he is. God, the food court after all this walking around and sitting down and getting up is going to be so—

“What do you think of these?” Steve asks, waving at a display of jeans that to Eddie’s distracted eye all look pretty much the same. 

“They’re alright,” he mumbles. Taking the opportunity to stand still, he absently runs his hand back and forth along the curve of his belly, back and forth, kneading gently. It lulls away the sting of the embarrassment, leaving only his pleased flush at the attention. 

Steve picks a few things up and they move on. 

A store clerk approaches them with a simpering smile—no, approaches Steve. She’s ignoring Eddie like the elephant in the room. “Can I help you with anything, sir? I can get a changing room set up for you, if you’d like.”

And Eddie gets it. Objectively, he gets it. Steve is bonkers hot. But, he is smugly aware, this twig-shaped girl is merely a passing curiosity at best; Steve likes his partners (likes Eddie, and Jesus H. Christ isn't that still a heady thought) insatiable and demanding, not demure and easily impressed. The time when he felt self-conscious about their relationship, when he worried that Steve was just a confused straight boy who would go back to girls with their curves and small hands and baby-soft skin after a while, is long past. 

Partly because now he has those things too, except for the small hands, but mostly because like has recognized like. 

So when Steve replies, “Oh, this isn’t for me, it’s for him. But yeah, could you get us a changing room? My buddy here has some mobility issues so I’m here to help him out,” and winks at the girl, Eddie doesn’t even blink. From the looks of it, Steve is going to leave the store with her number. Eddie, feeling her gaze slide critically over him and linger on the way he’s bulging out of his clothes even at the sleeves and between the rips in his jeans, already knows she’s never going to get a call. 

~

The changing room is a bit cramped. Eddie stands by the mirror with one hand on the wall for balance as he steps on the heels of his new shoes to wiggle out of them while scowling at the only place to sit in the changing room: a chair with fucking armrests, way too narrow to squeeze his doughy hips between comfortably. Not when he’d have to get up again pretty soon after, anyway. 

It’s as thrilling as it is irritating. The amount of weight he’s put on in a single blur of summer indulgences still catches him by surprise sometimes. Half of it is probably from s’mores marathons they’d had in Steve’s back yard, which… Yeah, he wouldn’t give those memories up for anything. 

But at the moment, man is this annoying. 

“You’d think they could’ve just installed a bench, but nooo,” he grumbles. He gets the shoes off and leans back against the wall. “Whew. Mind helping me with my belt here?”

“Uh-huh,” Steve replies in a casual voice, for the sake of anyone who might be listening. His eyes are fixed on Eddie’s middle though, going smoothly to his knees with both hands already reaching. It’s cinched so tight that he has to grab both ends and pull them closer to get the buckle loose, compressing Eddie’s belly enough that he has to stifle a burp, then bite back a moan as the belt comes undone in Steve’s big hands and his belly drops with a noticeable bounce.

When Steve holds the belt up to show him, the last hole is so stretched it’s a miracle the thing had held. Eddie had noticed it creaking when standing and sitting in the shoe store, but he hadn’t thought it was that serious. And kind of doesn’t now either, with Steve still kneeling at his feet and peeling his outgrown jeans down. 

“Step,” Steve murmurs, tapping his calf over the crumpled denim. While Eddie extracts himself from his pants, he pops back to his feet with his hands still out, fingertips skimming up the sides of Eddie’s legs to settle on his exposed love handles and kneading rhythmically. “Need anything else?”

A number of lewd things he could ask for flit across Eddie’s mind, including with the impulse to ask for a pre-lunch snack—but they have a plan and he’d like to stick to that. So he shakes his head, and Steve retreats to the chair and settles in. Spreads his legs as wide as the armrests allow and puts a hand casually over the fly of his jeans, brazen in the way he adjusts himself while flashing Eddie an eager smile.  

Eddie licks his lips but tears his gaze away, focusing on the clothes hanging just inside the door. They’re already sorted, pants and shirts paired into outfits of his boyfriend’s choosing, which. Okay. He can do this. 

First is a pair of slacks and one of the button-down shirts. And they don’t fit at all. 

“Steve,” Eddie complains, struggling to try and get at least one button on the shirt fastened. He’d given up on the pants already, a little winded from all the jumping and wiggling as he tried without success to get them anywhere past where they strained obscenely over his thighs, and just left them there. It feels like he’s hogtied from the knees down. “Did you even look at the sizes when you picked these out?” His own body blocks most of the view in the mirror, but when he stands off-center just so he can see the way Steve is staring. It only lasts a second but he could swear—

“Try the next one, then,” Steve suggests, voice rough, and he is. He’s already touching himself. 

Jesus H. Christ. 

But the biggest thing confronting Eddie in the mirror is, obviously, himself. His eyes linger on his curves, the bulges where he all but explodes out of the clothes’ attempt to restrain him. Already flushed from all the walking and attention he’d garnered on his way to the dressing room, and now the attempt to get the clothes on, he realizes that it’s about to be a struggle to get them back off and suddenly feels even warmer. All over, but especially where Steve’s eyes rove over his ample backside—because his ass may be flat, but it’s gotten wide from all the time he’s spent parked on it lately. 

Because that’s a thing Eddie gets to have now: a doting boyfriend, who feeds him out of his clothes and then takes him shopping. 

He bites his lip and starts shrugging the shirt off, wiggling his hips to shift the pants from where they’re boa constrictor tight around his legs. Unable to shift his eyes from the mirror as he watches himself, the way his body shakes and bounces in new ways. And, like, fitting room mirrors aren’t flattering for anyone, but he looks big. Barely fits in the frame, especially when he turns fully to the side to grab the next outfit lined up for him. 

This one is a little better. Chinos that seem absolutely huge until he gets them on and realizes they don’t button over his lower belly; he has to lift it up and button them with one hand with a grunt, blushing hard as he hears Steve hum approvingly in the background. But the next hanger, a Black Sabbath shirt that Eddie actually really likes, doesn’t even come close. 

“Steve,” Eddie whines this time, trying to keep his voice down because they are kind of in public but fuck, the fact that his boyfriend is doing this to him on purpose is making really him squirm. He turns around with his hands on his hips, fully aware that he looks like he’s wearing a goddamn crop top the way his belly pushes up the shirt. 

“Eddie,” Steve teases back. He does a good job of not sounding breathless, but even if the urgency of how he’s fondling himself through his jeans didn’t give him away, the rapidly shrinking slivers of hazel around his blown pupils would. “Is there a problem?”

What’s Eddie supposed to say to that? As much as part of him wants Steve to play fair, get him things that he can actually put on without feeling every additional, quivering inch of himself so they can buy some damn clothes and move on to lunch, he can’t ignore the way it's making his blood rush south. 

So instead of focusing on fair—which, clearly, his dick could not care less about from the way it’s threatening the integrity of these chinos—he makes the world’s most ineffective attempt at pulling the shirt up and pouts. “I need help.”

And once again, those magic words make Steve light up. 

~

So, here’s the thing. Eddie has been to Indy. He’s done things in bathrooms at gay clubs with complete strangers, gotten his rocks off, and gone right back out onto the dance floor after. Yeah it felt like something was lacking, a little bit lukewarm even when the sex was good… but he’d always figured that was just part of the package when you had a sexuality that could get you run out of town if the wrong people found out. 

Nope. Incorrect. Or maybe that was it for some people, but Eddie has only recently figured out what the missing piece always was. 

Because right now, he feels like he’s on fire. 

“How’s this one fit?” Steve asks, and Eddie doesn’t know how the fuck he can sound so normal. So unaffected that he might actually be helping his fat friend struggle out of one article of clothing to the next, instead of what he’s actually doing, which is sliding a second finger into Eddie’s ass beside the first. 

“It’s, ah, it’s good,” Eddie gasps. He’s breathing hard, but he kind of was even when he really was still trying on clothes. It’s a good thing the changing room walls go all the way down to the floor because otherwise it would be way too obvious from outside that he’s on his hands and knees, biting his knuckles whenever Steve plays Morse fucking code on the bundle of nerves deep inside. “I think, ha, this one’s a winner, definitely. Put it in the keep pile for me.”

“Sure, man.” Behind him, Steve lets a gob of saliva drop silently from his mouth, adding more wet to his fingers and Eddie’s hole. 

Eddie is going to leave teeth marks on his entire fist at this rate. His mind is swirling around the proverbial drain, close to dropping out completely, eyes squeezed shut in a desperate attempt not to forget himself. But he can’t resist rocking back, angling his hips as he tries to get more. Steve moves with him, the bastard, but the underside of his belly rubs over his cock as it sways with the motion and the extra stimulation makes him jerk and that, that nearly makes him moan out loud. He doesn’t, though; they’re going to get away with this. 

It’s cleaner here by far than any bathroom he’d ever encountered in Indy but Eddie has never felt more dirty in his entire life, and it feels so. Fucking. Good. 

~

Before they leave the changing room, Steve dresses Eddie in new everything. Boxers from one of those economy packs that come with five pairs, because his old ones are… yeah. New Judas Priest shirt. Black jeans that don’t have any rips in them yet. Socks from similar plastic packaging because the ones he came in with have holes. Steve, kneeling at his feet, pulls those on for him and then gets his shoes on and tied one by one. 

Eddie lets him, feeling like his insides have been liquefied into honey. Or something thick and slow, anyway. Sticky and sweet. He licks his lips absently and watches the top of Steve’s head because he doesn’t want to lean forward enough to watch his hands, but can’t think of anything worth watching besides this perfect man whose eyes, when he meets Eddie’s gaze, are burning with the ‘you’re so fucking hot’ he doesn't dare say out loud right now, still riding that thrill of getting away with this in a public place. Who’d just played out the scene Eddie had asked for to glorious perfection.

There’s one thing Steve improved on, though. He feels it with every step as they head for the register, Eddie a few steps behind with a dopey expression on his face: the constant reminder of the plug in his ass. 

In a perfect world it would be there to keep Steve’s come inside him, but that would’ve been too risky. No, his sweet boy had spit on him again after he’d come into the ratty boxers now shoved deep in one of his new pockets, pushed it into Eddie’s lax hole with his thumb, and offered the plug shyly—as if there had ever been any chance of Eddie turning it down. It’s keeping him ready for when they get home. 

“So,” Steve says as they leave the store, glancing at him with a knowing grin, “you still up for the food court?”

Eddie smiles back at him serenely and pats his stomach, which  isn’t empty, exactly, but isn’t full anymore either. He could eat. 

“Always, baby. Lead the way.”

Permanent tag list (if anyone wants on or off, let me know): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[sketchy-rosewitch]

Bo’s Bunny: Bo Sinclair x little!f!reader

A/n: Spent all night writing this so I hope y’all like it.

Warnings: little uses clowncore, stranger insults caregiver/little relationships, yelling, fighting, reader has a nickname, gun, death, blood.

Masterlist

The steps groan on the old house as two men go to enter it. The door is unlocked just like the rest of the doors in Ambrose, one man turns the knob and the door creaks open.

Bo, the owner of the house is the first to enter, then a stranger.

Boots stomp along the upstairs floor and before Bo can even speak word to the stranger you’re clambering down the stairs to him.

“Bo! BOOOWAAAA! You’re back!” Your cheeks are blushed with pink makeup and you practically roll to Bo.

He’s smiling down at you. You don’t even notice the stranger who is about to sit on the couch. You hug Bo tightly, your purple clown suit making a poof noise. You giggle.

“Yes I am. I’m gonna have to leave in a few minutes though. I just had to grab a fan belt real quick okay?”

You scowl and pout. “Can you make me some food before you go?”

“Bunny, it’s going to have to wait until I get back.”

“Why can’t it be now? It’ll only be a few minutes!” You look at Bo with your big bright eyes, they (unfortunately) don’t always work on him.

“Bunny we have a guest over. He probably wants to get back on the road as soon as possible. Please just give me an hour.”

“I’m hungry now though!”

“Bunny I’m not arguing with you about this. You need to wait.” Bo is firm with his words, you cross your arms and look over at the stranger, brows furrowed and all.

“They can wait! I need food and you won’t let me cook!” Your voice raises into a whine and you stamp your foot lightly. Bo’s jaw tenses. He hates when you make a scene but he’s not gonna give in to you. He hardly does.

“That’s not how this works, I know you need to eat but you need to learn to be patient.” Bo mirrors you by crossing his arms. You huff and look at the stranger again.

“You ruined my day, I hope you die.”

“Bunny!” Bo clenches his fists and sighs. “Go to your room.”

“No-“

“Now. I’m not asking you again.” Bo points up the stairs, you let out a huff again, tears brimming your eyes. You stomp up the stairs and to your room. “Don’t you dare try slam that damn door!”

You do just that, making Bo let out a huff of his own. He turns to the stranger and gives a tight lipped grin. “I’m so sorry about her. I didn’t expect her to be down stairs anytime soon.”

“It’s okay, don’t know how you can handle someone so childish.” The stranger comments letting out a small laugh. Bo rolls his eyes. There’s no point in educating someone who’s going to die anyways.

“Yea, ya get used to it-“

“I mean and that ridiculous outfit too? I’d be embarrassed. She go out in public like that?” The man points with his thumb up the stairs with a brow raised.

Bo would never be. He used to be embarrassed of a lot of things but he got used to them. First it was having a twin brother with half a face. Then it was having a younger brother, then a sick mother and a father who shot himself in the head cause he didn’t know how to care for his own children without a wife, then being in the foster care system and alone, then he gave up on being embarrassed over stupid shit, shit you can’t fix. Shit that doesn’t need to be fixed too.

You and his brothers? No you didn’t need to be fixed. You guys were perfect the way you were. Sure each of you are broken but sometimes the broken can’t be fixed. Sometimes they don’t want to be.

“It’s not ridiculous, I ain’t embarrassed either. Just who she is.” Bo bites out.

“Sorry man, just couldn’t do it myself.” The man shrugs his grey t-shirt crinkles a bit, he laughs… again. It didn’t lighten the situation a bit.

“Yeah not everyone can.” Bo is tight lipped again, he heads towards the garage. “I’m gonna grab that fan belt and we can head back to the gas station.”

“Alright”

Bo walks into the garage and grabs a box, it has a fan belt (doubtfully the right one), a gun, and some random tools thrown in there to make it seem more full. He picks it up and brings it out.

“I can drive us back down, box is a bit heavy it’ll be easier that way.” Bo says, the other man gets up and walks towards the door opening it for Bo.

“Sounds good.”

Bo walks down the steps and waits for the man as he shuts the door. The man walks in front of him and Bo quietly pulls out the gun.

“Ya know… Bunny is gonna get her wish granted. Couldn’t be happier about it either.”

“What do you-“

Bo pulls the trigger, the bullet flies out and turns the man’s grey shirt mahogany. He falls back, Bo shoots his legs and the man let’s out a cry.

“I’m glad to have granted her wish. Don’t ever insult my girl.” Bo let’s out a scoff.

He walks up to the man and lifts him by the armpits back into the house, dragging him into the basement. Vince is at his desk and he looks up at Bo as his twin slams the stranger on the table.

“Got one for ya.” Bo winks and clicks his tongue.

“Thank you.”

Vince signs and looks at the man, he grabs some wax and almost immediately gets to work.

Bo walks back upstairs and sighs thinking about you. So he makes it up another flight and walks towards your room.

It’s next to his, the door is painted as a circus, something Vince did for you awhile back. Some of the paint has chipped due to either you picking at it or your tantrums. You were the only one who ever slammed doors in this house, though Bo remembers when he, Vince, and even Lester used to do that when they were little.

Much like the rest of Ambrose this house’s doors don’t lock anymore. Bo knocks lightly indicating him entering and turns the nob. He fixed the creaking on this door (on all of them except the ones to the outside really) cause it got on your nerves.

Bo peaks his head in and sees you sniffling on your bed. He frowns and walks over.

“Go away!”

Your voice sounds raspy, you must’ve been balling up here before and he couldn’t hear it.

“Bunny… come on. Turn around.” Bo’s hand reaches out lightly but stops midway. Bo sits down and puts his hands in his lap. You didn’t like being touched when you were upset with people.

“No.”

“Bunny… you know I’m sorry. I really am. I told you it would only take an hour but it took less than that. You know I hate keeping you waiting for anything but I had to do this.” Bo explains, he touches a loose string on his flannel button and plays with it nervously. “I’ll make you whatever you want. I really am sorry. I’ll even make sure you have leftovers cause I know you love those.” Bo chuckles a little sadly. His heart hurt.

Bo absolutely hates being firm with you, but sometimes you need that. He hates making you sad and always wants you smiling. It’s unfortunate it can’t always be like that.

“Okay…” You mumble. “I’m sorry for being mean to a guest, Bo. I forgive you too, ‘cause it’s your job to help people, an’ you said you’d cook for me later.”

You hate being wrong, but often times you are wrong and that’s just how it is. Growing is knowing that and apologizing for it.

“S’okay Bunny.”

You sit up and crawl to Bo. Your arms go around his shoulders and you sit on his lap. You look up at him and smile, your makeup was ruined but Bo still found you so very pretty. He loves your clown makeup in every way.

You kiss his lips and he kisses back getting the sticky grease paint all over the bottom half of his face.

“I would like baked Mac and Cheese, chocolate chip cookies, a ham sandwich cut into triangles, and more kisses!”

Bo let’s out a laugh that makes your chest bubble and pop into butterflies. He picks you up, your legs and arms stay wrapped around him like a koala.

“Okay then! Whatever my Bunny wants she gets!”

[bestiesenpai]

Taker pt2 - Sukuna

Ah, the smell of freshly baked step-brother kink in the morning -3- the flavor is so good, I like to have it with my morning tea. Femme reader and this is the second and final part for this series(?)

part one

Content warnings: Sukuna big meanie, noncon+dubcon, degradation, a smol bit of praise!, spanking, choking(brief), pseudoincest(duh)

The incident you had with Sukuna was burned into your brain forever. You couldn’t even pass the couch anymore, gaze pointedly turned away from it whenever you were near. Sitting on it with your family was too much, especially when your mother sat in the seat Sukuna had been when he had his cock buried into you.

So, you did what seemed like the right idea: ran away to your grandparents house. It was under the guise of spending time with them and no one questioned it. They welcomed you with open arms, excited and surprised at the sudden visit.

It was nice with them, not having to deal with Sukuna sending you dirty looks when he walked past the lounge room and not having to avoid him in the halls at night when you were trying to use the bathroom or get a glass of water.

But when it came to you and your step brother Sukuna, nothing good lasted long.

“Oh Sukuna, hello!” The front door opened and your grandpa stepped back to reveal Sukuna, bundled up in a hoodie and sweats.

“Hey gramps.” Sauntering into the house with his hands in his pockets, Sukuna smirked widely at your horrified expression. “Hey little sis, ‘m here to take ya home!”

“W-what?” It had only been a week since you’d been gone, and while you had been planning to come home in a few days you weren’t expecting Sukuna to come get you.

“Yeah, you don’t remember texting me last night asking to pick you up today? Dad let me borrow the car, it’s parked out front.” Hooking his thumb behind him, Sukuna dropped the smirk when your grandma came into the room and donned an innocent pout.

“Sukuna, good to see you! Staying out of trouble I hope?”

“Eh, not really.” He shrugged and laughed lightly. Your grandparents didn’t know the half of it. Just a few days ago Yuji texted you that Sukuna had gotten into another fight and stumbled into your empty room dripping blood.

Your grandma laughed easily, patting him on the chest and muttering something about how rowdy young men can be. Glued to your spot, you watched in agony as Sukuna chatted up your grandparents, talking about something that you didn’t quite catch.

“(Y/N), don’t just sit there Sukuna came all this way to get you! Pack your things.” Your grandma caught your eye, brows knitting at seeing you not moving.

“But-” You stammered, trying to say something more diplomatic besides ‘I don’t want to go home with my perverted step brother that bullies me’.

“You need help getting your stuff together? Where’s your room, I’ll help.” Sukuna was already walking past you and toward the bedrooms, and you couldn’t stop him now. Biting your lip, you followed after him and darted into the bedroom you’d been using.

“Not so fast!” You tried to slam the door shut before Sukuna could come in but he was faster than you thought and much stronger than you remembered. His hand caught the door, shoving it open and shoving you back into the room with ease.

“Why’re you here?” You huff, turning your back to him and gathering the clothes you’d left strewn about.

“I came to get my little sister of course!” He said loud enough for your grandparents to hear. He had one eye over his shoulder, checking to see if one of them would come into the room. With the coast clear, Sukuna turned to you and dropped his voice. “I can’t have my little princess avoiding me forever now, can I?”

“It’s only been a week!” The sentence comes out as a whine and you throw your head back, stamping your foot in a huff.

“A week far too long to be apart from you.” With a dark chuckle, Sukuna walked up to you and pushed you on the shoulder, turning you to him. “I won’t let you slip through my fingers that easily.”

“I hate you.” You glared harshly at him and pushed him back.

“Ouch, those words would hurt if you meant them.”

“I do.”

“Nah, I’m sure you’ll be taking them back real soon.” Snatching the clothes out of your hand, Sukuna threw them across the room. “Now hurry up, I’m tired of fucking waiting.”

The drive home was heavy with unspoken tension. Not a word was spoken from either of you, not that Sukuna particularly cared. He had the radio turned up to some blaring punk rock station, mouthing along to some of the songs and humming every so often.

Entering the house, your heart dropped at realizing it was just you two alone again. It was the middle of the work week and both your parents were out, and Yuji had university classes to attend. Only you and Sukuna, who had no school or job to go to, were in the house.

“My room, now.” Shoving you in the back, Sukuna nearly made you fall over.

“Hey!” He forced you up the stairs and to his room at the end of the hallway, knocking you into the closed door a few times as he fumbled to turn the knob.

“Home sweet home.” Sighing happily, Sukuna closed and locked the door behind him. You’d been in Sukuna’s room only once, when he wasn’t home and you had to collect a few things he’d ‘borrowed’ from your room.

There was an electric guitar and amp in the corner next to a desk covered with random papers and old fast food bags. Multiple overlapping posters were hung on the walls of different bands and strange art that Sukuna liked, along with a few gravure models above his bed. The faint smell of cigarettes and body wash clung to the air, making the dark room feel even darker.

“So, tell me why you left me.” Pushing you to the middle of the room, Sukuna walked around you in circles.

“You know why.”

“Mmm, I don’t think I do.” His voice sounded behind you, and in one swift motion he knocked you out at the knees and sent you to the floor. “Try again.”

“You know why!” You shouted at him, attempting to stand but his hands on your shoulders kept you on the ground.

“Try. Again.” Bending down to your line of sight, Sukuna stared at you with widened eyes.

“I don’t know what you want me to say! You fucked me, Sukuna! And- and I didn’t like it!” Immediately his hand was around your throat, constricting your airways and forcing you to sit up straight on your knees to try and breathe.

“Ya say you didn’t like it but then why’d you cum twice? Certainly weren’t saying you didn’t like it when I was fucking you so good. What were the words you said, ‘I love my big brother's cock’?” Tilting his head to the side, Sukuna let out a disappointed hum. “No, there has to be another reason and I think I know what it is.”

Letting you go, Sukuna straightened up and stared down his nose at you, a hollow look in his eyes as he watched you clutch your throat and gasp in air. Sometime during all this, your phone had fallen out onto the floor and Sukuna picked it up.

“You’re screwing around with a little boyfriend, aren’t you?”

“Wh-what? No I’m not.” You choked, lungs still burning.

“You didn’t want your big brother Sukuna to find out you were fucking cheating on him, right?” Waving your phone in front of your face, Sukuna jerked it out of reach when you tried to grab for it.

“Give it back, that’s not true!” You played the game of cat and mouse, desperately trying to get your phone back from him and leave the room. “Sukuna, it’s not true and you know it!”

“Liar.” Tossing your phone onto his bed, Sukuna grabbed your upper arms and forced you to stand. Stumbling back onto his bed he dragged you with him and as soon as he sat down he threw you across his lap.

A short grunt left your mouth as your chest collided with his legs, hands scrambling on the bed to try and drag yourself off. Sukuna kept a tight grip around your middle, yanking your bottoms and panties off in one go.

“Suku-” Your cry was cut off by a hard slap against your ass, hot pain shooting across your body and only getting worse when he landed a hand on your other cheek.

“You fucking bitch. Do you hate me now?” Sukuna huffed, smacking you again and putting more of his weight into it. Your bottom was already stinging and with each smack that landed it only made it worse.

“S-sukuna! Stop, stop-” Tears were easily streaming out of your eyes and dripping into his mattress. Your feet beat against the bed, trying in vain to stop him from hitting you again.

“You’ve already forgotten your training too? Wow princess, I’m fucking disappointed.” Smacking you again, Sukuna yanked your shirt collar up, forcing you to rest on your elbows and look back at him. “What’re you supposed to call me?”

Squeezing your lips together, you shook your head hard. You couldn’t even focus fully on him with all the tears clouding your vision and there wasn’t a hope for you to actually speak either with the way you were hiccuping.

“Say it.” He barked, slapping the back of your thighs this time.

“Ow!”

“Oh so you can speak! What are you supposed to call me?”

“Big- big brother! Big brother, big brother!” Shaking your head harder, you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, trying to calm your frantic cries.

“Much fucking better.” Letting you fall back onto the bed, Sukuna hit you a few more times in rapid succession. “But it seems you’ve forgotten just who you belong to.” Without warning Sukuna shoved you off his lap and back onto the floor.

Landing on your ass, you yelped loudly and flipped over onto your stomach, the cool air in the room doing nothing for how hot and irritated your skin was now. It hurt and there was no hiding it, your crying the only sound in the room.

“Quit your crying, you dumb baby. I went easy on you, you should feel grateful.” Walking over you, Sukuna dug through his dresser before procuring a large black t-shirt. Holding it up to the light, he smiled and tossed it down to you.

“Wh-what-?” Trembling fingers grabbed the shirt and turned it over, and you blinked hard to clear the tears and look at what was printed on the front.

“Like it? Had it specially made for you.” On the front of the shirt in big, bold white letters were the words ‘big brothers cumslut’. Sukuna didn’t wait for a response, taking in your horrified expression with glee as he stripped himself. “Go ahead, put it on.”

“Big brother…” You whined, coming to stand on your knees and keeping your ass away from your feet. Twisting the shirt in your hands, you couldn’t decide what was worse: the shirt or the fact that Sukuna was barely two feet from you with a hard cock only getting harder with his hand pumping it.

“Don’t keep me waiting.” He warned and walked past you to lay on the bed. Hanging your head, you stood up and whined again, grabbing the edges of your own shirt and lifting it up. “There we go, nice and slow.”

Your body shook as you took your shirt and bra off, cheeks burning when Sukuna let out a low whistle and fisted his cock a few times at the sight of your naked body. Tears wet your lashes again as you slid the new shirt on, the words on it permanently branded your chest.

With a soft mutter, Sukuna pulled you over to him, moving you to straddle him with his cock nestled between your legs. Laying heavy hands on your hips, he pushed your ass flat against his thighs, not caring in the slightest about your pained squirming.

Humiliation clung to you like a second skin as the weight of the shirt settled on your body. Embarrassment burrowed deeply in your brain as the memories of being spanked by your big brother and crying like a baby took up space in your brain. There was already shame hanging over you from being fucked by Sukuna the first time and you thought it couldn’t get any bigger.

But when he maneuvered his cock between the lips of your cunt, pressing it flush against your wet sex without sticking it in and pushing and pulling your hips to grind against him, it increased tenfold.

Your hands slapped down onto his chest, whether you wanted to stop him or get more momentum was unknown even to you. It was deplorable the amount of your slick he was able to build up just by grinding you on his cock.

“You like that, stupid girl?” Sukuna groaned lightly, his lip caught between his teeth as he watched your cunt envelop him, the tip of his cock poking out every so often.

“I-” You struggled to answer. Every slide back brought the pain in your ass back to the forefront of your mind and every slide forward had sparks shooting up your spine at the way your clit rubbed against him.

“See, I just had to be a little mean to you, to teach you a lesson.” Sukuna kept talking, catching your hazy eyes but not really caring if you were listening. “Big brother just had to remind you of a few things, but as long as you’re good he won’t have to do it again.”

“O-okay.” Nodding your heavy head, you sniffled away the remaining tears. “M’sorry, brother.” You weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for, the words just tumbling out of your mouth easily.

“Ooh princess.” Sukuna cooed, pouting his lip and lifting a hand to shake your head by the chin. “I know you are. That’s why you’re gonna make me feel real good to make it up.”

“Mhmm.” Sukunas hand dropped from your chin and grabbed onto your hips again and this time you moved with him. The slow push and pull of your hips picked up when you began to move on your own accord, gliding your cunt across his cock.

Seeing you move on your own, Sukuna let go of your hips and put his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers together and sighing contently. His lip caught between his teeth again watching you grind yourself on him.

“Big brother, I-” The pleasure you were getting from this was mind numbing, the direct stimulation on your clit combined with the hazy fog you were already in from getting spanked making you forget how to do anything except keep moving.

“So good for me, aren’t you.” Sukuna groaned and his arms shook as a jolt went up. “Just like that, keep going.”

“Brother…” All the pleasure you were getting was amazing, but you were growing needy. There was something you still needed, something the clenching of your empty cunt wouldn’t let you ignore.

Lifting yourself up with horribly shaky arms, your eyes were glued to Sukunas cock, glistening with your juices and absolutely rock hard. Stuffing part of the shirt in your mouth so you could see better, you grabbed Sukunas cock and attempted to guide it into your cunt.

“Aht, not so fast princess.” Snatching your hand off of him, Sukuna grabbed both your hands and held them up and away.

“Lemme go- I wanna- want your-” Your attempts at tugging your wrists free was weak and in vain. Sinking back, Sukuna’s cock resumed its previous spot hugged by your cunt.

“Don’t forget you were still a bad girl, you still need to learn your lesson.”

“Meanie.” Pouting down at him, you sloppily jutted your hips forward. The move made Sukuna’s breath hitch and you did it a few more times, rutting against him in a feeble attempt at getting back at him.

“You think you’re doing something but really you’re just gonna make me cum.” Squeezing your wrists one more time, Sukuna let them go and put his hands on your thighs. “And when I cum it’s all over.”

The implication of his words took several long seconds to reach your consciousness. If you wanted to cum, it would have to be this way, and it would have to be before Sukuna came. Slowing down, you tried to angle your hips forward to put more pressure on your clit.

“Don’t slow down now, keep going!” Catching on quickly, Sukuna smacked your thighs and squeezed them, forcing you back to the pace you were at earlier.

“Brother, please!” Digging the tips of your fingers into his chest, you tried to forcibly slow down.

“Quit being such a greedy brat and take what I give you.”

“Gimme- yo-your cock!” Gone was the shame that had clung to you so heavily. Nothing else mattered now except for the achingly empty feeling inside you desperate to be filled by your big brother's cock.

“You have it right here princess.” Sukuna grinned, thrusting his hips up. The sharp movement had your heavy head lolling forward and eyes screwing shut.

“Big brother, fuck.” Your chest heaved greatly as you fought to keep getting air into your lungs. Your shirt was bunched up by your waist, held in place by Sukuna so he could get an uninterrupted look at you humping him.

With renewed vigor you ground your hips against his as fast as you could, zealously chasing the pleasure that you could get from this moment. It had your toes curling and you were absolutely gushing around his cock, making the slide even easier.

A couple sharp, high pitched cries leave your lips just as Sukuna cums at the same time as you. His back arches up off the mattress, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. You don’t stop moving and Sukuna doesn’t let you, making you fuck him through both your orgasms.

Some of his cum catches on the front of your cunt, but most of it splatters across his crotch and lower stomach. Every thrust of your hips seems to push more out, spurting the sticky white fluid out in a disjointed pattern.

When the stupor of his orgasm wears off Sukuna lets you go, lets you fall forward and then to his side in a tired, mushy lump. As he catches his breath he watches your thighs twitch from the aftershocks of your orgasm, the shine of your slick cunt glaringly obvious to him.

Lazily, Sukuna grabs a few tissues of the bedside table and wipes himself clean. He would have had you do it and made you lick him clean, but he couldn’t trust you not to stick his soft cock into you and try to fuck him.

“Hey, princess this isn’t a fucking hotel.” He jerks your shoulder, forcing you to sit up and shake off the light sleep that had dusted across your eyes.

“What’re you doing?” You grumble, steadily growing annoyed as he forces you to your feet and towards the door.

“Good girls get to sleep in my bed, but you’re still on fucking punishment, remember?”

“You’re being mean, s’not fair!” Pushing back against him, you almost make it back onto his bed.

“Get out, you little bitch! Learn to act right and be a good girl.” Wrapping an arm under your breasts, Sukuna hoists you up and drags you out of his room, dumping you unceremoniously out into the hall.

A pitiful whine leaves you, but you gather yourself up and stand in front of him. You don’t even realize you’ve started crying until Sukuna rubs a rough hand across your face and wipes a few tears away.

“Shut up and go put your shit in your room.” You nod, lower lip trembling and sniffling loudly, but make no sign to move. Rolling his eyes, Sukuna slaps the doorframe. “Fine, since you’re being so pathetic, here’s a deal. Are you listening?”

“Y-yes.”

“If you go and put all your shit away you can come and lay down in my bed. Deal?” Crossing his arms over his chest, Sukuna tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for you to answer. “Well, do we have a fucking deal or not?”

“Yes.” Wiping your eyes again, you take a few steps back.

“Yes what?”

“Yes big brother.” There’s a pout on your lips as you say it and Sukuna swipes his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Good girl. Now get going, I don’t wanna have to come and get you again.” Giving your ass a pat and reminding you of the pain in your backside that had been pushed away, Sukuna grinned. With a quick nod you scurried away, feet landing heavy on the stairs as you went to grab your bag.

Man, did Sukuna love having such a good little sister or what?

[machinegunbun]

Is there gonna be a third part for Deserved It🥺

Deserve You+#

Word count:1.7k

A/N: Everyone say thank youu anon for reminding me lmaoo. This was supposed to be posted tomorrow but I got excited soo

“Pete, please just let me explain.” You whimpered, your voice and spirit growing weak. It felt hopeless, like maybe you really had lost him for good.

Your fist knocked lightly against the wood of the hotel room door, the sound reverberating down the silent hallway.  Anxiety filled you, this wasn’t your first time knocking. You had been here for fifteen minutes and were completely unsuccessful so far.

You were pleasantly surprised when you heard fumbling from inside, not expecting them to answer. When the door swung open you were met with the sight of Colson towering over you, an unimpressed glare being shot your way

“He can’t hear you, he’s in the shower. Now stop, you’re pissing me off.”

“Please.”

“What do you want?” The question was more of a statement, letting you talk only to get you to leave.

“Is he okay?” You ask, sniffling.

“What the fuck do you think?” 

“Please, I just wanna make it better.“ You plead

“Then go the fuck home.” He replies, shutting the door halfway before opening it again “And stop fucking knocking.” He adds, shutting the door in your face. Sighing, your back slides down the door, admitting defeat.

As you sat in the all too quiet hallway you found yourself wondering if maybe it meant more than you would like to admit. Maybe Colson was right, would you have kissed Shawn if he had never walked in? Would you have even ever told Pete if you did? Would you even regret it?

Tears began to well up in your eyes at the thought. Who were you kidding? Of course you’d regret it, who cares what everyone else thinks? You knew better than anyone that leaving Pete for Shawn would be the downgrade of a lifetime, and the fact that people based the opposite assumption purely over their own ideals of beauty was fucked up. Pete treated you better than Shawn ever did, he made you feel more than Shawn ever could. He made you a better person, you couldn’t believe your judgement had lapsed that badly, even for so much as a second.

Your head knocked against the door twice, trying to bang the anxious thoughts directly from their source, before the door swung open, the tall blonde giving you a single disapproving look when he spotted you on the floor.

“Is it the pizza?” You could hear Pete ask from inside. Right, you hadn’t gotten the chance to eat dinner

“Nah, it’s just Rook. I’ll be right back, you got the door for me?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Pete replied, his voice hoarse. You could only imagine he’d been crying.

You glanced up at Colson from your place on the floor, embarrassed.

“Just let me talk to him.”

“No.”

“He's not a baby, he doesn't need you to protect him.” You mumble

“No, but he cares about you.  A lot. A-fucking-lot a lot, and I know if I let him out here and he sees you crying he’ll run right back into your arms.” 

“I just wanna see him. I hurt him and it's killing me to know I can't hold him and make him feel better. I just wanna hold him.” You say, your voice cracking.

“Why don’t you just leave him alone and call Shawn instead so he can cheat on you again and you can go on another fucking bender and pretend like theres something interesting about your life.”

“Fuck you.” You retort, although you know his anger is the only reason for his words

“Fuck you too, (Y/N). Who took care of you after you went on your little fucking bender? Pete. Who helped you through the breakup? Pete. Who was with you when you felt like the whole world hated you even though you did nothing wrong? Pete. Who was there for you, romantic or not, whenever you needed him? Pete.If you really want to apologize you need to wipe those fucking tears, take a breath, clean yourself up, and fucking apologize without guilting him into saying its okay.”

“Okay, Okay. I’m not Casie.”

“Damn right you’re not, cause my daughter would’ve never pulled this dumb shit in the first place. And get off the fucking floor, you look pathetic.” He scolds, watching as you stand up, still almost a foot shorter than him. Colson turns around, pushing the door open as it was only half shut. You peer inside, trying to catch sight of Pete, but seeing only a piece of the hallway.

You remained on the floor, not daring to knock once again out of fear Colson might call security on you.

Your head ticked up curiously when you heard someone walking down the hallway, looking up to see Rook making his way towards you. Glancing down at you, he knocked, waiting for a moment before Colson was walking out of the door. Colson looked down at you as well, mild disgust gracing his features before he was walking down the hallway alongside Rook, the two boys disappearing into the elevator.

Pete walked out five minutes later, hoping you hadn’t given up and left. His eyes lit up when he saw you, first reaction being to fix the pout that was stamped on your face.

“Oooh, you got in trouble.” Pete teases, shutting the door behind himself and taking a seat next to you on the carpeted floor, not entirely caring that it was dirty as long as you were right down there with him.

“You heard?”

“It’s a hotel door, not a soundproof barrier.” He jokes, looking at you “Yeah, I heard everything. Listen, he shouldn’t have said any of that to you. He was angry, that’s all.”

“Don’t defend me.” You reply, looking over to meet his eyes. Pete purses his lips, his eyes filling with tears

“I’m always gonna defend you.” He says, his eyes leaving yours as he does, landing on the floor instead. The tone of his words are less reassuring and more disappointed. You thought for a moment he would cry, but he didn’t. His hand never even so much as came up to wipe his tears. Another brief silence fell over you, one more and you think you’d rip your hair out. You were unsure if you should wrap your arms around him the way you wanted to, the last thing you wanted to do was manipulate him into telling you what you did wasn’t a problem.

“I get it.” Pete says, breaking the silence.

“What?” You ask, your voice surprising even you in the midst of such stillness,  feeling foreign and unlike your own

“I get if you want to be with him,” Your eyes meet once again as he says this “I won’t hate you.” He assures, his lips pushing together in a sad, half smile. You stared at him, examining his features and what you had done to him, but in Pete’s mind you were weighing out your options, and everytime Shawn came out on top. He was so caught up in his own mind he almost didn’t catch it when you began shaking your head.

“Oh thank god, cause he’s back at our place right now and we fucked on our bed-” Pete’s head tilted down in disappointment, focusing on his tattooed fingers. You laughed, punching his arm lightly “No, I want you dummy. Why else would I be humiliating myself by crying in a la quinta hallway. What's up with that, by the way? Colson doesn’t have the money to put you up somewhere better? You just got your heart broken.” Pete cracked a smile, his gaze shifting up to the door.

“I know the breakup was hard for you, and everything after it too. I guess I can understand just wanting something before it felt like the world turned it’s back to you.”

“No. I don’t want that, I don’t want Shawn. Sappy love songs, extravagant vacations, waking up early to exercise, flirting publicly as fan service, the perfect family-”

“Okay, okay we get it. He has a dad.” He laughs  “Stop rubbing it in.”

“And actually nice hotels, seriously what the fuck is this.” You laughed, your heart swelling with love when you managed to make Pete smile “It’s just not who I am anymore. I’m late nights watching TV, laughing by the fridge when we get up at 3am to make snacks cause we have the munchies. I'm sitting in your backyard with you, your mom and your sister while we eat dinner and breathe the fresh air and look at the stars. I’m going on walks cause we’re depressed and need the sun to convince us we’re okay again. You changed me in the best ways, baby. I don’t want anything else.” You stared at the ceiling, vivid images flashing through your mind, thinking who you are now is so much more beautiful than who you were then.

You hadn’t even realized Pete was crying until he sniffled, your gaze drifting back over to him, the sight breaking your heart.

“Fucking lame.” He replies, both of his hands coming up to wipe his eyes, his sweatshirt pulled over his hands. You reach over, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your grasp. Laying there in peaceful silence, you find yourself running your hands through his hair, inhaling his scent and letting his body warm your own. You felt yourself calm down for the first time tonight with him in your arms.

The moment was broken as someone exited their hotel room, glancing down at the two of you on the floor before making their way to the pool, towel flung over their shoulder. Pete and you shared a look of amusement as he walked away, stifling your laughter until he made it to the elevator.

“Come on, let's go inside.” He says, trying the doorknob. There’s a thump sound as it moves a bit and stops, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion before giving it another try. You tilted your head, looking at the doorknob and to Pete as a look of realization overtook his features.

“I forgot my key.” He sucks his teeth, shaking his head as you laugh from your place on the floor.

[dont-tempt-me-frodo]

Only For You

have some soft geraskier just because

also available to read on ao3

The midday sun filtered through the sea of leaves above, dappling the stream with gold. The mossy ground was springy underfoot and the warm air was thick with the smell of wild garlic.

Geralt knelt by the water’s edge, delicately plucking the leaves off a dark green plant and folding them into a cloth. Their sweet scent wreathed around him, almost chasing away the tang of the garlic.

He sighed heavily through is nose and gently pocketed the herb filled cloth before rising slowly to his feet. He cast his amber gaze along the bank of the stream and spotted another plume of the rare plant so took the opportunity to gather more of its pungent leaves. He would use them to brew his potions later. For now, he was content enough to take what he needed then make his way back to the clearing where he had left Jaskier and Roach.

When Geralt had paused their travelling to look for herbs, Jaskier had dramatically flopped down by the base of a tree, complaining about his sore feet and encouraging Geralt to go on with out him.

Geralt couldn’t begrudge the Bard a short rest. They had been on the move now for almost four days with very little respite, camping under the stars, and although Geralt could relax into the journey astride his chestnut mare, he knew the constant walking was hard going for Jaskier.

Jaskier didn’t usually complain about the long days of endless walking. He filled the journeys with his relentless chatter and impromptu lute playing. But at night, when they curled up together, cocooned in each other’s warmth, Geralt could feel Jaskier’s weariness, his exhaustion.

The next town was only half a day’s walk away, and he had promised Jaskier that they could spend some time there. The Bard’s delighted smile sent a ripple of affection warming through him, and his slow heart skipped a beat. Hopefully there would be a contract or two for Geralt but failing that, Jaskier would always drum up some coin in the local tavern.

Geralt always enjoyed watching Jaskier perform. His masterful lute playing, his rich singing, his animated charm and boundless energy never ceased to amaze him. And afterwards, they would go up to their room and make good use of the lumpy straw mattress on a pallet that passed for a bed in these parts. If Geralt had his way, they would go a few rounds before Jaskier was delirious with overstimulated pleasure. And then he would tuck his Bard close to his chest and hold him as he slept.

The Witcher smiled to himself as he folded the last leaf into his cloth then pushed it into his pocket.

He plucked at the nape of his shirt, trying to fan away the stifling heat building around him, then started the slow trek back the way he had come.

Geralt focused on the noises of the forest. The bubbling of the stream, the twittering of a finch, the cautious steps of a deer, the rustling of leaves high above his head where the slight breeze didn’t quite penetrate the thick canopy. He frowned though. There was a sound he was anticipating but didn’t hear. The strumming of a lute.

Jaskier’s melodies had followed Geralt into the forest and he had fully expected them to lead him out again. But the lack of plucked lute strings was deafening and worry coiled in his gut.

He quickened his pace, ready to draw the silver sword strapped to his back as he approached the clearing.

If anything had happened to Jaskier…

The Witcher thundered through the thicket and then stopped dead.

There was Roach, tethered to a sapling just like he’d left her. And there was Jaskier, bundled up at the bottom of a sprawling oak tree, lute in his lap just like he’d left him. But, and Geralt wilted at the realisation, the Bard was sound asleep.

A painful ache of affection burned in the Witcher’s chest. The weariness, as well as the heat of the day must have caught up to Jaskier, and Geralt was once again remined how human his companion was.

Geralt stepped into the clearing softly, taking off his swords with the intention of slinging them over Roach’s saddle. The mare lifted her head as he approached, blinking slowly at him and snorting. Geralt hushed her with a pat of her velvety nose. Roach flicked an ear at him then went back to nibbling at the sweet grass. Geralt gave her neck a rub then made his way over to the dozing Bard.

Jaskier was propped up between two roots, his doublet jacket folded neatly by his feet, the laces of his embroidered shirt plucked open to try and let in the air. He looked so peaceful and utterly beautiful that Geralt didn’t have the heart to wake him. Instead, he carefully removed the lute and placed it to one side then slid in next to the bard, tucking his arms around him and guiding him into his broad chest.

Jaskier shifted slightly, a mumble escaping his lips but he didn’t wake, instinctually nuzzling into Geralt.

The Witcher leaned back against the tree, letting his own eyes flutter shut for a moment as the comfortable weight of Jaskier in his arms sent curls of warmth through him.

He was vaguely aware of their surroundings, trusting Roach to alert him if anything, or anyone, was approaching. The sweet scent of the soap Jaskier favoured chasing away the lingering forest and Geralt breathed deeply, a content smile twitching his lip.

Geralt half dosed for a little while but cracked open one eye when Roach stamped her foot. She was regarding him with those glassy black eyes and the Witcher sighed.

“I know,” he rumbled softly, glancing up at the sky half hidden by the interwoven branches.

If they were to make the town by nightfall, they’d have to make a move. And Roach was growing impatient, stamping the ground again and snorting.

Geralt shook his head at her, then shifted slightly, blinking down at the bard still asleep in his arms. It felt cruel to wake him.

Very gently, Geralt brushed Jaskier’s cheek with the pad of his thumb, back and forth, a steady rhythm to bring the bard back to wakefulness.

Jaskier’s breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered. A soft yawn fell from him and Geralt’s heart melted.

“Hey,” the Witcher hummed.

Jaskier gazed up at him, his expression still lax with sleep and his smile was crooked.

“Hey,” he yawned, and the Witcher leaned down to press a kiss to the bard’s forehead.

“We need to get going,” Geralt mumbled, “Still a fair way to go before we reach civilization.”

Jaskier made a noise that could almost be described as indignant, and he curled up tighter into Geralt, burying his face in the Witcher’s neck.

“Nope. You’re too comfortable. And I’m still not fully awake yet,” Jaskier whined, but Geralt could feel his grin.

“Come on bard,” Geralt chuckled, love for the man in his arms thrumming through him.

“Fine,” Jaskier lifted his head to make sure Geralt could see his pout, and Geralt cupped his cheek and captured that pout in a soft kiss.

Jaskier melted into him, his own hands coming up to clasp at either side of Geralt’s neck.

Geralt rubbed noses with Jaskier, kissed his cheek, his jaw, his cheek again, and Jaskier bubbled with laughter.

“You’re ridiculous, Geralt,” he sighed fondly.

“But you love me anyway,” Geralt hummed, his amber eyes bright and his smile coy.

“How lucky you are,” Jaskier patted Geralt’s shoulder then tucked a lock of his silver hair behind his ear.

“Very lucky,” Geralt agreed, turning his head to kiss the inside of Jaskier’s wrist.

He heard Jaskier’s heart skip a beat, and the bard’s hand lingered in Geralt’s hair so that the Witcher could lean into the touch.

“Come on bard,” Geralt said again, shifting now to let Jaskier know he was being serious.

Jaskier huffed out a breath and let Geralt stand before reaching for him. The Witcher took his hands and hauled him to his feet, curling an arm around Jaskier’s waist and encouraging him in closer. Jaskier let himself be guided flush against his Witcher and he rested his head on Geralt’s shoulder.

“Love you Geralt,” Jaskier preened.

“Love you Jaskier,” Geralt rested his cheek against Jaskier’s head as he walked him over to Roach, “up you get. I’ll grab your doublet and lute.”

Jaskier paused, leaning away from Geralt to fix him with an incredulous look.

“Who are you and what have you done with Geralt?” he gaped.

“Very funny,” Geralt grumbled, going back to the tree to retrieve Jaskier’s things. He thumbed Jaskier’s doublet absently as he flicked those amber eyes back to his bard. “You’re tired and I feel bad for having to wake you up,” he admitted sheepishly, “it’s only fair I do a bit of walking for a change.”

Jaskier’s expression softened, and he ducked his gaze, his smile wide.

“Softie,” he said to his boots.

“Only for you,” Geralt came in close, took a gentle hold of Jaskier’s chin and tilted his head up so he could press a kiss to Jaskier’s lips.

Jaskier quivered and Geralt smiled.

“Let’s go,” the Witcher rumbled, “and hopefully there’ll be a nice soft bed for tonight.”

“There better be,” Jaskier grinned, mirth dancing in those blue eyes, “absolutely no sexy times for Witcher’s if we end up on the floor. Again.”

Geralt laughed.

“Well, we’d better get a move on then,” he gruffed, “if there’s any hope of finding a bed for the night.”

Jaskier winked at him and Geralt’s heart flipped in his chest. Gods he loved this man. This wonderful, ridiculous bard. And as he helped Jaskier up onto Roach, he couldn’t stop smiling.

[writingsbychlo]

put her together again (04)

word count; 6449

summary; irene puts her plans into action a lot faster than mitch had expected, and he’s not totally ready to be alone yet.

notes; this part is a little emotional, but totally necessary for her development, even if everyone’s hearts do hurt just a little bit. 

warnings; mentions of anxiety and depression, as well as references to trauma from abandonment.

It had all happened a lot faster than Mitch had thought it would.

The morning following your trip to the house was only a half a week ago, and he thought he’d have at least a fortnight with you before Irene took you up into the next stage of your life, but clearly, she’d already been in her preparations. She had documents ready for you and somewhere for you to go, a seventy-two-hour warning to give you the run down and get you packed up and ready, and he didn’t think it was nearly enough time. 

You were being moved to a witness protection zone, the entire town apparently having the CIA stamp of approval and safety. He was happy for you, he really was. No more having to go out at night and hide away during the day, or take caution with the places you could go to. There was more to do, you would have freedom, and the chance to create and lead a regular life, but the selfish part of him was beginning to loathe it. 

Over half a year of constant exposure to another person would do that to you, and despite the fact that you only had enough belongings to fill one cardboard box that was sitting by the front door already, it made the apartment seem barren, the fact that your energy and presence were going to be ripped from him so suddenly, leaving him once again alone and cold in a way that he hadn't been in so long. 

He was lingering by the door, staring around the room in hopes that maybe he’d find something to break the silence, maybe he’d find something that would make him feel a little less like he was losing something that meant everything to him once again, because it had been a while since this kind of sombre mood had floated around him, he had worked so hard in the last few years to put up walls and defences and not bring anyone close enough to hurt him, but then you’d been dropped right at his feet and suddenly it was like they’d never existed at all. You’d walked right through all the locked doors and chained up gates like you owned the place, and now you were leaving like it wasn’t where you wanted to be, at all.

The box by the door made him sad just to look at it, and you were sitting on the couch in what you deemed to be your most presentable pair of jeans and a soft knitted hoodie that he’d forgotten he even owned, something too small from his teen years before he’d bulked up with lacrosse and all his CIA workouts, but you’d discovered it while helping him clear out, and you loved it. It was slightly patchy with some holes, and it hung a little loose around your neck and the sleeves were a tad too long, not enough to cover your hands in ‘sweater paws’, but enough to hang low around your knuckles when you played with the frayed threads. Your only other pair of jeans, the few basic pairs of underwear and socks he’d managed to buy you, as well as some pyjamas, were folded up, and that was about it. Sitting atop were your hairbrush and your toothbrush, the only pair of shoes you owned were on your feet as you waited, and he let out a breath. 

The seconds seemed to tick on slowly, it had been at least twenty minutes since either of you had spoken, and this morning you had uttered about ten words to him in total. You weren’t mad at him, he knew that, but it hadn't been this quiet between you both since the beginning of your time together, and he didn’t like it, not one bit. Running a hand over his face and letting out a deep sigh, he knew there was really nothing else he could do, and there was nothing he would find that would be able to stall the inevitable, and so he was left to simply take a seat beside you, the dipping of the couch cushion under his weight making you slide a little closer to him, and you looked up, offering your best version of a sweet smile, and he did his best to steady his slightly shaking jaw to be able to return it. 

Lifting up an arm for you, you ducked underneath it, your body pressing into his, and he rested his arm over your shoulders, letting you press a cheek to his chest as you gave out a heavy breath. 

“Tell me again why I have to leave?”

He chuckled, lowly, though it was dry and entirely humourless, and he lifted his other hand to sit on your leg gently, squeezing for comfort. “Because you’re doing so good with your development, and Irene thinks it’s time for you to get the kind of life you can’t have with me. To live somewhere safe, and become your own person, without my influence.”

“I like your influence.”

You pouted a little, and this time his laugh was genuine, a shrug on his shoulders as you rested against him, but you brought your own arm up to loop around him. “We’ll still be friends, okay? I’ll come see you. I have to get back to work, though. I have bad guys to take down, push-ups to do. I need to make sure Stan’s ego isn’t getting too big again, someone has to keep him in check.”

“Push-ups to do, huh?” He nodded as you laughed at him, the vibe around you both lightening up a little from something that felt crushing to something that felt all the more manageable, a  crack in the tension that helped it to shatter and melt away. “Maybe once you get back into practice you’ll be able to do more than I can.”

He gasped falsely, pinching at your shoulder so that you yelped and smacked his arm, kicking your foot into his thigh as you did, and soft laughing erupted from the pair of you at your playfight. “There was something digging into my hand that time!”

“Yeah, yeah! Excuses!”

He growled a little, twisting to be able to get better access to you as you pushed and kicked him away, defending his assaults without ever actually hurting one another. “You want a rematch? We’ll go right now!”

“Fine!”

He offered you a hand, pulling you to your feet as you tried to catch your breath from laughing, rolling up the sleeves of your jumper as he did the same, but before either of you could take your position, a lightweight knock at the door rang out, and while it was anticipated and quite soft, it still sent waves of trembling uneasiness and racking chills through his body, the smile falling away instantaneously, and just like that, the tension hanging over you both was back to that of being completely suffocating. 

Mitch was the one to move, pacing across the room to the door, fingers wrapping sound cold metal to reveal the woman behind it. Much to his surprise, she was alone, and he figured that she didn’t want to scare you by arriving with a personal protection detail like she was the president, but he never really knew where anything stood with Irene, she was impossible to read and incredibly fickle with her decisions, which he was sure was actually a well-executed plan to keep herself unreadable and unpredictable, but he wasn’t too sure.

There was a smile on her face and a pep in her step as she welcomed herself into the apartment, breezing past Mitch, he simply huffed at the action, and going straight for you. Her hand was held out, your eyes leaving his as you looked towards her, anxiously rubbing together your hands as you picked at the loose woollen threads by tenfold, and even Irene seemed shocked at your complete change in character since the last time she’d seen you. Nervous, anxiety-ridden and a little scared was a big change to cold, emotionless and stoic, and he was proud of how far you’d come in under a year. 

“I assume you remember me?”

“Uh, yes. Yes, ma’am.” Mitch’s lips flicked up a little at the sides as he gave you an encouraging nod, watching as you shook the woman’s outstretched hand, and he couldn’t deny that he bristled a little at just how friendly Irene was being with you. It was all an act, of course, but he had never been worthy of the coddling act, but then again, he probably needed the hardass approach when he’d been through it, he got the real Irene right off the bat.

“Good. That’ll save us time on introductions. We have a place all set up for you, stocked up and well secured. Are you ready to go?” 

You didn’t give her a verbal response this time, simply nodding your head as you swallowed thickly, and Mitch moved to scoop up his duffel bag and your box of belongings, avoiding your gaze as he tried to steady his own facial expressions, knowing that he needed to be strong for you in order to encourage you along at all, and to give you the strength to go on without him. 

You were out of the door first, his keys already in his pocket as the three of you left the apartment, the door clicking shut softly behind the trio as you made your way toward the elevator, which Irene was dead-set on taking, unwilling to walk so many flights of stairs in heels. Nobody spoke, but he did chuckle internally as he arrived down at the parking lot, the protection he’d been expected now present, three sleek black SUV’s with other agent’s he recognised, one standing up to open the passenger door for the woman, and you moved to the back, sitting behind her, sliding onto the plush leather and strapping yourself in. 

He lingered by your side, before passing your box into your arms, and rounding the car to take the seat beside you, bag sitting at his feet. It was stuffed with all the hoodies and sweats he knew that you favoured, some t-shirts, and books he actually owned, all the others having been returned to the library. It was a little parting gift, something he could give to you to bring you comfort when you were on your own, because from what you’d told him during the darker times about the place you’d stayed, you had never actually been alone before.

At the age of three, you were taken from your parents, and you had spent over two decades living in a dorm room with other girls and boys, other children who’d been taken and trained, moulded from youth into weapons of destruction, and while you wouldn’t exactly count those people as friends or family, there was something distinctly different about knowing that you were the only person in an apartment or a house, that you were alone, there was no other presence to keep your own company, you were simply singled out and left to fend for yourself, and he worried about how solitary life would treat you.

He didn’t care for the drive, what he did care about was the way your hand slipped out from being clenched together in your lap to sit snugly under his bicep where it was pressed to his chest, fingertips digging into his flesh as you sought out comfort, and he flexed the muscle in subtle confirmation, feeling your grip on him tighten. It wasn’t all that far away, actually, maybe thirty minutes at the most, definitely not a drive he’d be hesitant to make every day if needs be, but he still wasn’t favourable to the idea of you being anything other than a thirty-second walk down the hall to him.

A cold key was pressed into your hand after Irene had opened up the door, and while it seemed like an act of trust and solidarity, you both knew better, and knew that she probably had at least seven copies of that key, and every key to the building. It was nice, probably even nicer than his own place, and definitely bigger, too. 

A homey feel, clearly someone had put great thought into this for you, and he was glad to know that his notes had been taken into account, a large bookcase socked top to bottom with all different coloured books was visible from where the two of you were still lingering in the doorway, along with a couch that had several blankets rolled up along the back for comfort, and a cushioned coffee table for you to rest your feet on if you were watching television instead. It was fully decked out, everything you could need would be here, he knew it, but you wouldn't be together, and companionship and comfort was something that they couldn't buy and gift to you no matter how hard they tried.

“Would you like to look around?”

He was snapped out of his silent judgements to look over at the woman, and find both sets of eyes on him, the slightly curious ones of Irene, and then yours, searching for approval and assistance. He gave you a nod, looking over your shoulder before jutting his chin in the direction of the hall, and you set off, carrying your box with you as you ventured further into your new home. There was a small reading den, more books, a kettle, and a very cosy looking armchair that was big enough to fit two people, with your bedroom opposite it. A large bed, king size, bigger than the one you’d had with him, and Mitch watched as you placed the box down on the edge. Fingers stroked over the cotton sheets, taking it all in as you pushed at what looked to be an extremely plush and overly stuffed duvet, and he decided to give you a little nudge. 

Reaching into the box, he lifted out your neatly folded pyjamas, placing the plaid set on the pillow of the side you slept on, too many matching cushions for his tastes, and he knew you’d discard them all as soon as you were alone, but you were polite enough to leave them on as Irene entered the room too. She watched as you moved over to a vanity, inspecting it curiously, before placing your hairbrush down onto the centre it, the first personal item you had to add to the room. 

You wandered away, disappearing from the bedroom and his view for a second as you took your toothbrush with you, leaving it on what he assumed was the bathroom sink, before you were reappearing, and edging closer to his side. Irene cleared her throat, gesturing an arm to the door on the other side of your bed that you’d yet to venture into. 

“There’s a large closet too, fully stocked for you. I’ll give you a minute to unpack, and when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting in your living room.” 

She was leaving just like that, heels clicking on the polished wood as she left, and you were glancing curiously at the door. “Look at you, all fancy now, with a walk-in closet. When you lived with me all you got was one set of drawers.”

“When I lived with you all I had was enough clothes to half-fill one small drawer. Still do!” You jiggled the box at him teasingly, and he patted the bag slung over his shoulder, shaking his head. 

“Not quite, I brought you some of your favourites. Want to go unpack?” You nodded, a delicate look flitting over your features as you hopped a little in your steps, swinging open the door and flicking the lights on to illuminate the space, a gasp on your lips as it was revealed to you. A woman had done this shopping, Mitch could tell simply by the fact that every item in the room was tasteful and pretty, and he already knew you’d look great every single garment.

You opened drawers and inspected everything you saw, adding all of the sweatpants to an empty drawer and using blank hangers to add your hoodies and sweaters to the rails, before he was folding up empty cardboard to put back into the bag on his shoulder. Every second that passed and every little move you made as you settled into your new location only filled him more and more with dread. 

Your hand slipped into his as you leaned in a little, letting out a shaky sigh as you stole a second to yourselves, away from prying eyes, and your foreheads pressed together as your eyes squeezed shut. “You’re still going to be my friend, right? Come and see me?”

“Of course I am, I’m not just going to abandon you.”

You nodded, but seemed unconvinced, pulling back enough to gaze up at him. “You promise?”

“I swear it, and I don’t break my word.” He pressed his lips to your forehead, lingering in the touch for just a moment, before releasing the breath he was holding. “C’mon, Irene is waiting for you. I can feel her passive-aggressive angst all the way from here.” You chuckled at his words, but shook your head, stepping away from him and out of the room, letting him be the one to flick off the light as you left. 

As promised, she was standing in the living room, and the conversation around him seemed to fade away as he continued to personally inspect your apartment for you, as Irene bombarded you with knowledge about your weekly allowances, and the places you could visit, and when you’d be getting weekly visits from different agents each week. There was food in your fridge, a bathroom that contained everything you could possibly need, and it seemed like a gesture of goodwill, but he couldn't help but get the feeling that something was off. 

You were Irene’s project, sure, but all of this was a little over the top, you were about to be living in luxury, but he couldn’t find out why she was doing this for you, so he buried it, masking it with the feelings he held of loneliness and dread and deciding perhaps it was just his bias making him doubtful. 

You were exhausted by the time he was leaving, your warmth still present as you wrapped yourself up in his arms for a hug far longer than necessary but he couldn’t find it in himself to pull back either, so he really didn’t care all that much.

“I’ll be back to see you real soon, okay? Get a good night’s sleep tonight. I’ll be here with you again before you know it.” 

You only nodded, letting him lift up one of the blankets from the back of the couch to wrap around your shoulders as you kicked off your shoes, the final piece of armour you were holding against this house, shedding the final restraint, and accepting it as your home now.

The door closed with a wave, and though it was only a few inches of wood, it felt like miles, and a manicured hand sealed onto his bicep to pull him away as she tutted. 

“You know you can’t do that, right?”

“Do what?” He echoed the words to her dumbly, the ding of the elevator making the fog in his head clear a little, and as the metal doors clicked shut, he dragged his gaze away from the place he’d just left you alone. 

“Go back so soon. You need to leave it at least a week.”

That got through, that struck a nerve, and his head whipped around to face her, brows pulling together to furrow and he shook his head. “What are you talking about, why not?”

“She needs to acclimate to being alone, and not being dependent on you like a child. You are not permitted to return or have contact with her for at least seven days, understood?” She fixed him with a look that was cold and commanding, one that he had no other choice with but to grit his teeth and accept it, a curt nod and a scowl in return for her. 

“Understood.”

As commanded to, against every instinct within him that was fighting to get out, Mitch had waited an entire week to see you again.

Now, he was waiting at your front door, knocking anxiously as his feet tapped, and it was a good few seconds before he heard any movement behind the wood at all. Then, all of a sudden, the lock was clicking open, the shadows under the door shifting and it was opening up for him to reveal you, your eyes wide and hair slightly messy as you stared at him.

“Mitch.”

“Yeah.”

You looked at him for just a second longer, before falling face-first into his chest and wrapping your arms around him, squeezing him so tightly he could barely breathe, but he didn’t care. The second you’d met him with your touch, he was clinging to you just as tightly, one hand cupping the back of your head as his eyes fluttered shut and cheek pressed to your crown, the other arm snaking around your waist to hold onto you. “You never came back.”

Your words were muffled against his chest but he felt them tear through him like bullets, and he shook his head, trying to gather you up into his arms even closer to him. “I wasn’t allowed to.”

You huffed out, before finally releasing him, retreating from his embrace long enough for him to get a good look at you. You were tired, he could see the bags hanging under your eyes and the duller shine surrounding you, but it was of no surprise, he had expected that you’d have some trouble settling in at first. The apartment looked partially untouched, everything but the kitchen still resembling the exact way it had been this time seven days ago, and he suspected the kitchen was only like that because you were forced to go in for food to survive.

“How’ve you been holding up, huh?”

“It’s.. odd. Being alone. Not sure I like it.” You raised one shoulder in a shrug, but that was all you gave him, and he let out a sad sigh, but nodded his head. Dipping down to pick up the bag and the flowers he’d left at his feet, it seemed you were just noticing them for the first time, your face lighting up with that joyful smile he’d missed so much as you took the bouquet from his outstretched hand. “For me?”

“Thought they’d brighten the place up a bit.”

You simply nodded, welcoming him in and guiding him to the kitchen, but your eyes did flick down to the bag in his hands as you began your search for a vase. “You have a bag, too. Are you staying the night?”

There was a hopeful edge to your voice, and he loved that, choosing to nod his head as he looked at you and you only seemed to get happier. “I thought you might want me to.”

“You were absolutely right. We can have beef stew for dinner, I’ve been practicing my cooking.”

“Sounds delightful.”

As you fixed your flowers, he was given a chance to observe you further, noting that you were wearing an outfit consisting of exactly what he’d given to you, none of the items were those that he’d bought you or that you’d been given by his boss, and he glanced around. Excusing himself with the bland lie of going to the bathroom and putting his things away, he didn’t miss the laundry pile he passed by in the corridor on the way through, that collection of clothing consisting entirely of those that he’d given to you as well, and his frown only deepened.

He left his toothbrush beside yours, the pair sitting together once again in a way that he’d missed every night for the past week when only his own had been sitting at the sink, and he felt ridiculous for even feeling such a way, but he had grown accustomed to you being with him, and it felt different not to have that all the time anymore. You were chopping up beef and loading it into a slow cooker when he walked back into the kitchen, potatoes out and ready to be chopped, and he moved across to the sink beside the fridge to wash up and be able to help out. 

A piece of paper was fluttering with the slow stirs in the air as he moved, and he flicked his gaze down to it, brows raising as he checked it out.

You had tried to recreate the routine the two of you had made together all those months ago, but he could see that you couldn't remember everything, a few question marks and blank spaces with dots of ink where you’d intended to write but come up blank on the words that were aiming to fill the gap. 

“I’m really happy you’re here.”

He turned to look at you, a goofy grin taking over his face as he dried his hands and moved over to chop the potatoes, but not without brushing a kiss to your temple first, an action that you were more than happy to lean into. “I’m happy to be here, too.”

“We can watch a movie with dinner, yeah? That couch looks unloved, and I need to scope it out before I’m willing to commit to sleep on it.” You rolled your eyes fondly at his words, but nodded, looking back down to the meal you were making as chunks of potato began to fill the pot. 

“I haven’t spent much time on it. I’m still settling in.”

“Well, I can probably help with that.”

You only nodded, bumping your hips with his, before going on to tell him about the latest book you’d been reading as you cooked together, and everything shifted back into place, just like it had been before, letting you both pretend for just a moment that everything hadn't changed.

You awoke before he did that morning, it was the best night’s sleep he’d had in a week, despite the fact that he was sleeping on a couch, and it was all simply down to the fact that he’d known you were only a few metres away from him one again. 

You were clattering about in the kitchen when he finally surfaced, the smell of freshly brewed coffee meeting his ears as the grinder worked somewhat quietly, and you were searching for a mug in the cabinets. He laid there for a while, simply staring up at the ceiling and drifting between sleep with every blink he took that inevitably turned into him forgetting to open his eyes again, because he was caught up in a haze of lazy morning bliss as he listened to you move around. 

The sound of you shuffling closer caught his ears, the smell getting stronger, and he peeled an eye open to peer at you, lips forming a full smile as he watched you take a seat on the coffee table before him, two mugs in your hands. “Mornin’ sweetheart.”

“I’m pretty sure I remembered how you take your coffee, but it’s been so long since I last saw you..” You let out a teasing sigh, and he growled under his breath at you as he forced himself up into a sitting position, and accepted the drink you were offering him.

“I apologised for that, and I was under orders to let you ‘acclimate’. Whatever that bullshit means. But did you? Did you acclimate?” He took a sip of the drink, the heat burning his tongue and throat but he was grateful for the boost and the perfection of the flavour, and he let out a happy groan as he took in the simple time he was spending with you. “Have you even been out of the house yet?”

“You sound so judge-y. It was you that kept me in ‘til nightfall and never let me out without you there too, it just seemed a little overwhelming alone.”

He knew your words were a joke, but they still stabbed at his chest, making him feel breathless as he looked up from the rim of the mug to you, before shuffling forwards a little closer to you. “Wanna’ break schedule with me?”

“You bet I do.” You were grinning at him now, taking a long swig of your own drink after blowing away the steam, and he followed suit, his mind beginning to lose the sluggishness that came with sleep, and catch up with him, planning out the day ahead as he tried to think about everything he could take you to do, and all the things he remembered hearing were included in the little safety-net town you’d been placed in. 

“We could go to the library and get some breakfast? We’ll get you all set up in your new neighbourhood. I bet your fridge needs restocking, too.”

“I can wear some of my new clothes.” He nodded at the idea, thrilled that you were beginning to accept more things as your own, and he lifted his arm, taking a sniff of himself and the shirt he was wearing. “You smell a little bit, you should shower first.”

He gaped at you, eyes narrowing a little as he smirked into his drink, but he couldn't deny the truth, though he would fight over it a little with you. “Oh, that’s so mean. If I smell so bad why did you even let me in, huh?”

“Because I missed you.” He wanted to coo over how sweet it was, but then you were opening your mouth again, and your eyes were glinting with a little mischief. “Plus, I‘m used to your stink now, or have you already forgotten that we lived together?”

“Excuse you, I was very clean when we lived together!” A little heat rose to his cheeks as he defended himself, watching you giggle a little at his flustered state. “I’m always clean!”

“Yeah, I know, I’m messing with you.” You stood up, finishing up your drink and breezing past him on the way to the kitchen. “You can shower after I do!” Your words were shouted, the bathroom door slamming shut only a moment later, and he rolled his eyes, before standing up to shake himself down a little, and search for his bag. 

He laid out the spare clothes he’d brought, barely having time to put both of the mugs into the dishwasher and rearrange the cushions and blankets of the couch before you were emerging once again, fruity-scented steam curling out into the hall as you scurried from one room to another while wrapped in a towel, disappearing into your bedroom. 

You were still taking those same military-speed showers he knew you for, and he took his place, starting up the water and finding it still lovely and hot, before he was kicking the door shut and stripping down to wash up in the tub. You had a much larger range of products than he did, and even if the rest of the apartment seemed uninhabited and almost entirely unlived in, but you had become familiarised with the bathroom. There was a ring of blue dust and glitter in the bottom of the tub which told him that at some point you must’ve at least had a bath, with a bath bomb, and he was absolutely adamant that you deserved those kinds of basic joys in life.

There was also a range of skincare products for you out on the side where he’d laid his clothes, and those were something he’d never been able to supply for you, because he really didn’t understand the difference between night gel, night cream and night serum, but girls did, and that may have explained why there was a certain glow about you lately. When he was done in the water, clothes were tugged on and hair was towelled dry, sitting in a damp mess on the top of his head as wandered back through the apartment, breath hitching a little when he found you putting away clean dishes and tidying up behind yourself. 

A cute sundress with pink and yellow flowers, a cream-coloured cardigan sitting over the top, with your legs bare underneath and a simple pair of sneakers, but they were new, and they were so much better than the filthy and scuffed pair you’d owned that you’d arrived in. “Hey! You smell better.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah..” He rolled his eyes, wandering past and making sure to lift his arm and wave his pit into your face as he moved past to repack his bag and take it to put in the car in advance. Your hair was flowing in soft waves, better than he’d seen it in the past and there were traces of fresh cream on your skin, he could smell the moisturiser you were wearing, making your skin look so dewy and shiny, fresh and bare-faced but still so stunning before his eyes. “You look lovely. Dresses suit you. Are you ready to go?”

“Totally!”

He took a seat on the edge of the couch, pulling on his shoes as you all but skipped over to him, and he stood up, brushing down his pants as he stood before you. “Let’s do this!” Your arm linked through his, and he was guiding you towards the door with his wallet, phone and keys in hand, ready to explore the new environment you found yourself in.

You had hopped up into the car seat beside him, reaching across to toy with the radio before he’d even fully started up the car, like no time had passed, completely unabashed in making yourself comfortable around him once again. The first stop was the library, officially getting you signed up for your own library card, a sweet smile on your face when they’d taken your picture for the piece of plastic, and the two of you had wandered the shelves for two hours as you learned your way around, everything being different to the library closest to where he lived, but it wasn’t all that hard to get to know. 

You checked out six new books, two science-fiction ones and two romance novels, as well as a new recipe book to flick through, and a non-fiction about penguins and the ice-caps, because apparently, you needed to know more after watching a ‘Planet Earth’ documentary before bed one night. 

Breakfast was more like an early lunch, stopping by to share a pizza while sitting at one of the outside tables as you chatted, before taking a simple walk around the park for the mid-afternoon. You still had to be discreet, and he knew that, you were still someone who was possibly being hunted, you were the first of a deep underground agency to ever find your freedom in a way other than death, you were a ticking time bomb of secrets to spill, and so he was determined to look after you, without you feeling like you had to stay cooped up in your house. 

You had also driven around, investigating each of the little shops, picking up a box of cupcakes and cookies from a local bakery and going to the store to get you new groceries, and Mitch was begrudging to admit just how much he had missed doing menial tasks with you like shopping as a week had passed by. The routine had been for you, but it was no secret that it had been hard for him to suddenly snap out of. Sleeping in and not having to be up at any certain time in the morning was a blessing, but he felt isolated during the day, and coming home from work felt a little dull as he knew nobody was waiting for him, a sweet smile and an offer of cooking and movies to cheer him up after a long day. 

It was with a bag of leftover takeaway to accompany shopping bags, bakeries boxes and books as he helped you tumble back into your apartment, in a fit of laughs and radiance as he took you through the house. You unpacked together, and he put your new books in a stack by the couch to try and promote you to venture out further into your house and make it your own. You were in your pyjamas again by the time he’d gathered his belongings, and while you’d offered him to stay another night, he had to decline, knowing that Irene would have his head if he - for all intents and purposes -  just moved back in with you at a new location.

You walked him to the door, blinking up at him through long lashes, and before he’d considered the actions, one of his hands had been cupping your cheek, his lips pressing to the other as he drowned in the smell of your body cream and shampoo, before pulling away, and pressing another kiss to your forehead. You looked up at him for a moment, lips quirking up at the sides, before you’d leaned up, hands holding his face so that you could kiss his cheek in return, and his stomach twisted up into knots at the way his heart had stuttered in his chest. 

Once the door was closed, he continued to stare at the plain for a second, warm cheeks and a stupid smile, before he realised what he was doing. He snapped himself out of it with a slap to the forehead, shaking his head as he tried to divert his mind. 

There was no possible way he could have feelings for you. You barely even knew who you were yourself, and he was in no position to impose on you with petty crushes and emotions that neither of you was all that good with yet. This was exactly the kind of thing that should be pushed deep, deep down, and forgotten for the rest of time so that you could move on and develop with the same speed and vigour you were maintaining right now. 

As much as he tried, every thought was coming back to you, and his heart was racing in his chest as he slammed the car door behind himself, a loud groan leaving him as he leaned forward, forehead slamming into his steering wheel. 

“Well, fuck.”

[savethelastdan]

Kagura Week 2020 Day 6: Sloth

Kagura slunk deeper into the hot spring, turning her sigh into a flurry of bubbles. 

Her outfit lay in a haphazard pile of fabric on a dry rock a few feet away, her fan the only thing that was carefully folded. Strands of hair that had fallen from the waves bundled at the top of her head clung to the sides of her face, but she didn’t bother to brush them away. 

Somewhere out in the forest, she could hear Jaken’s loud complaining about how long she was taking. And it was technically true; her fingertips had turned pruny quite a while ago. 

But she didn’t want to get out. This whole quest was boring. For one thing, Sesshomaru had opted to leave Rin and Kohaku in the village, meaning Kagura had no one to discuss anything of interest with. And secondly--either the daiyokai was making them walk around for the sake of suspense, or he actually had no idea where they were supposed to find this super-special shield or whatever it was (she hadn’t been paying attention during Jaken’s presentation). 

Third and last of all, Kagura just didn’t feel like an adventure right now. She felt like laying against warm rocks and pretending she was a noodle in a bowl of warm broth. 

(A joke which neither Sesshomaru or Jaken had bothered to appreciate.) 

The crunch of leaves nearby made her crack one scarlet eye open; she knew, of course, exactly who it was, since Jaken had expressed on multiple occasions that he would rather jump into a fiery pit of hell than see her fully nude. 

Sesshomaru’s frown seemed to echo the general disinterest that Kagura felt inside. “Get your clothes. We’re leaving.” 

“Go ahead.” She slunk even further, letting the tip of her nose graze the water’s surface. “I’ll catch up.”

He sighed, a loud and petulant thing that made her feel oddly jealous--if only she could inspire such unease in people with her own displays of annoyance. “You should be aware by now that neither Jaken nor I have qualms about leaving you behind.” 

Beneath the bubbles, she smirked for a split second. Since Naraku’s demise, and her full-time procurement of a healthy heart, Kagura was no longer the type to chase after a man playing hard to get. “I am. Bye, then.” 

Sesshomaru glanced towards the thicket of wood, where he might have left Jaken in a whimpering pulp, then back to her. If he’d been many thousands of years younger, and in possession of a temperament more akin to his half-sibling, she might have expected him to stamp his foot. “It is a wonder that sitting so long in the heat has not boiled your skin free from the bones.” 

“A wonder, indeed.” Leaning her head back, she swallowed--knowing his eyes would lock on the movement in her throat. “No need to make conversation, if you’re in a hurry.” 

She lived for the glow of annoyance in his eyes. It was delicious, to make a man who made a hobby of walking away from her stand there and try to maintain composure instead of just snapping at her to stop being lazy like a normal person. 

“Fine,” he managed to say with only the slightest gritting of his teeth (have you been practicing? she wanted to ask, or has Rin just pouted her bottom lip at you one time too many and you’re worried about being a cruel father?) He turned and stalked into the brush, leaving Kagura chuckling. 

She stayed in the spring for another half hour before finally sliding out. The ritual of wrapping each layer over her body before tying the obi closed was calming, methodic. Then Kagura flew up into the sky, ready to hunt down her traveling companions. They had put in quite a bit of distance, spurred on by their frustration.

It’d be some time before she can track them down, but Kagura didn’t mind. After all, a girl had to make her own fun now and then.

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Daegu Quarantine

Jungkook x reader

Gang/ zombie apocalypse au

Warnings:

Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?

Summary:

They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?

Word count:2325

Part 12===Part 13===Part 14

The moment we pushed into the hotel hallway it was all gunfire and falling bodies. Seokjin made quick work of the men, pushing ever forward in a hail of bullets that pierce the walls and floor with a merciless bite.

Room doors opened with a crash but the bodies only appeared for a moment before crashing backwards into more darkly clad bodies. I couldn’t help but be impressed, the forward push of Seokjin’s wide shoulders a reassuring reminder why we’d kept him around for so long despite the epic cringe that was his dad jokes.

The one moment there was a break in the gun fire Hoseok and I began scouting out the rooms, reassuring ourselves that nobody was hiding in the shadows for our eventual retreat back to the stairwell.

The first few rooms were empty thankfully but the third we tried was a different story. A dark shadowed blur dashed out of the dark bathroom, catching me off guard and slamming me into the wall so hard it knocked the wind out of me and almost caused me to lose my grip on my weapon.

Hoseok acted quickly though, wrapping his arm around the man’s throat and pinning his arm up in the air in a choke hold so fierce it caused his grip to loosen on me instantly. The two fell backwards, fighting for control as I recovered enough to smash the butt of my gun into my former assailant’s temple so hard he went limp in Hoseok’s arms instantly.

We gave each other a nod of thanks, both glad to have the other as backup in this life or death situation.

Out in the hall Jungkook was in a fight of his own, two men having made the mistake of trying to take him on at once. Jungkook’s leg darted out, taking one man out at the knee by snapping it painfully backwards. The fool landed with a scream, clutching his leg as his partner came at Jungkook with an ill placed fist towards Jungkook’s temple. Kook’s reflexes were far too quick though, grabbing the man’s wrist and twisting it sharply in the opposite direction. The man screamed out, high pitched and aching as Kook wrenched his arm behind his back and kicked the back of his knee so that he dropped down to the floor. Jungkook pulled upwards hard, dislocating his opponent’s shoulder with another well placed kick.

A single gunshot rang out, ending the man’s suffering instantly. Jungkook glanced back at me, a manic grin lighting up his face as he watched me eject my clip and slam another home.

“That’s my girl.” He cheered and I couldn’t help but swell a bit with pride as the three of us turned to race down the hall to Seokjin and Yoongi.

The two had already cleared the rooms ahead of us and now stood side by side with Rose. Seokjin was arguing with her as Yoongi glared with a mix of displeasure and what I could only describe as awe at the strange machine she had wrapped in her arms.

“There is no fucking way I’m leaving it behind.” She whined, clutching it tighter and almost seeming to want to stamp her foot like a petulant child.

“We can’t possibly make it all the way back home with you carrying that monstrosity and be expected to protect you AND stay alive.” Seokjin turned to me, his eyes filled with pleading for me to try and talk some sense into her. 

“I take it that’s the machine Tae made for you?” I asked. I couldn’t help but stare at the thing, wondering what had possessed her to think to even grab it in the chaos of escaping her room.

“It is. It’s the most important thing in my life besides what’s in my bag. You can’t possibly ask me to leave it behind.” She pouted, fluttering her lashes at me in an attempt to garner a bit of sympathy.

“I’m sorry. But it’s just too much. I mean, yeah you could try….but by the time you got half way down the street you’d be forced to drop it and make a run for it. Those….things won’t care that you’re carrying precious cargo, they’re more interested in your insides anyway.”

She stared down at it, heaving a sigh before turning and gently leaning it on the ground against the elevator doors. “One day...I’ll come back for you…” She stroked the gleaming metal and I could swear she shed a tear.

Turning back to us she hitched up her bag, glancing warily down at the pistol Jungkook was offering her.

“You really don’t expect me to take that do you?” She asked, her voice filled with doubt at the situation.

Yoongi sighed, grabbing the gun and forcing it into her hands. “Listen sweetheart. It’s kill or be killed. We risked our asses to come out here and get you for Taehyung’s sake, the least you can do is cover us.”

She winced and sighed as her fingers wrapped around the cold steel. “Alright...yeah no that’s fair.”

“You’ve got 15 rounds, one in the chamber. Make them count.” Jungkook turned to each of us, eyeing us up and down to check for injuries before glancing down the hall.

“There’s gonna be more in the stairwell, we can’t count on our way in to get back down which means clearing the lobby before we’re out the back way. Tae you still with us?”

“On it boss, back alley is clear for the moment, no activity on the streets. I’ll lose you in the stairwell for a moment but once you’re back to ground floor I’ll be sure to update you if anything changes.”

“Easiest way to the back door?”

Rose chirped up at this. “There’s a hall directly outside of the stairwell, leads to the front lobby. Head straight down the middle towards the back. There’s a kitchen that should be pretty easy to get through. It’s basically a straight shot to the alley from there.”

Jungkook nodded, checking the chamber on his gun to make sure it was clear before nodding once again. “Alright. Head out. Keep your heads down as best you can and your eyes open.”

We each signed off in agreement and began making our way down the hall. 

There was an unnerving silence once we were back in the stairwell, each of us trying our best to keep our footsteps quiet as we followed behind Seokjin who once again led the press onward. The silence was shattered quickly though by the sound of gunfire echoing up the center shaft of the stairwell.

I pressed my back as best I could into the wall, arms pulled into my chest and my weapon at the ready as bullets flew by before me. At a break in the firing Seokjin leaned over the railing, spraying a hail of gunfire of his own into the landings below as the rest of us pressed on in an attempt to gain ground on those beneath us.

“Get down!”

My eyes widened when I spotted Hoseok, tiny metal pin in hand as he lobbed a black object into the abyss below. I grabbed Rose who’d been pressed in close behind me, ducking both our heads down as a massive explosion rocked the stairwell and caused all matter of dust and debris to rain down on our heads.

My ears rang, a screaming high pitch tone filling my head with an ache unlike anything I’d ever felt as Yoongi tugged Rose and I to our feet and shoved us down the stairs.

“Christ Hoseok, really?” I muttered, smacking my palm several times into the side of my head as my hearing slowly returned. He only glanced back to me with a grin, fingers deftly rezipping Seokjin’s bag and throwing it over his shoulders.

We made it two more landings down before the gunfire began again, this time aimed far more sporadically and far less in number than before. Our next landing saw the effects of Hoseok’s grenade, bodies hanging limp over the railing and blasted out into the corridor beyond. We stepped over them with zero remorse and continued to dodge the gunfire as we moved on. 

Seokjin leaned over the railing once more as the firing slowed, allowing his AK to do the talking as the firing slowed and then ceased all together. We managed to make it down to the ground floor, arms and legs burning from the mad dash down the stairs and ears ringing in the silence following our assailants’ last shots.

Rose leaned against the wall, breath heavy as she clutched at her chest and coughed around her lungs’ desperate attempt at re oxygenating her body. “Fucking hell...being a computer nerd does NOT come in handy in the apocalypse.” She shook her head, knees bent as she coughed a few more times before straightening with a grimace. “Remind me to take up some cardio if we make it out of this alive.”

“We will. And I will don’t worry.” I smiled, patting her on the shoulder and turning to Seokjin who’d taken his bag from Hoseok.

“She’s been a good girl, not gonna lie. But there’s only so much ammo I brought for her.” He sighed sadly, tucking the pink monster away and pulling out two of his favorite pistols.

“Alright boys, final push. Down the hall and through the lobby. Get to that kitchen and push for home. Tae’ll have eyes on us so no worries alright?” Jungkook waited as we all whispered our affirmatives.

On a three count we were out the door and into the thankfully empty hallway. Yoongi covered our rear, steps clipped and sure as he moved backwards with a guiding hand from Hoseok gripping his shoulder. Jungkook had point, weapon moving ever watchful with his eyesight as we made our way to the corner that turned into the lobby.

I could see rubble littering the ground from the explosion that’d taken out the large glass front doors and a massive portion of the cinder block of the ceiling. Bodies were scattered throughout, probably from the chatterers that’d been milling the lobby and had been caught in the blast.

I couldn’t help but wince at the sight of one dragging itself across the floor. There was no lower body to speak of, just a trail of viscera leading from it back to a pile of rubble that it’d surely dragged itself from.

“Fucking gross dude…” Hoseok muttered from behind me, attempting to stave off a gag as we moved into the rays of light cast from the holes in the rubble outside. Our movements were quick after that, rushing past the chattering mass on the ground and into the dark hall that would hopefully lead us to open air and a path out.

***

The kitchen was just as dark as everything else. Thankfully we’d reached it without incident but this cesspool of darkness could very well be our undoing if we weren’t careful.

I closed my eyes, squeezing them tight and opening them to blink rapidly in an attempt to adjust my eyes to the gloom beyond but it wasn’t much help. The murky darkness was basically impenetrable beyond the dim light cast by the hallway door that Yoongi held open for the moment.

My eyes glanced back to the dark silhouette that was Jungkook and his outstretched fist indicating us to hold our positions. He motioned to Seokjin who reached into his bag and after digging around for a moment he tossed a large black mass to Jungkook. The mass was caught with ease and I barely managed to suppress my impressed snort in time as Jungkook pulled what were clearly a pair of night vision goggles over his head.

Seokin really thought of everything, I have to say I was pretty damn impressed.

We all linked up, fingers entwined in the tails of the shirt of the person who walked before  us as Yoongi slowly closed the door behind us. The room plunged into darkness and I could feel Hoseok tense up behind me before all thought was on Rose who walked before me being led by Seokjin.

I strained my ears, listening for Jungkook’s footsteps in the lead and trying to match my steps with his.

“Get down!” Jungkook’s voice rang out at the same time as a muzzle flash blinded me from further in the room.

I dragged Rose down with me as gunshots rang through the air, straining to keep her body covered with my own as Hoseok cursed on the ground behind me.

All went silent after a dozen or more shots had gone off and I sighed in relief as Jungkook’s dusky voice muttered out the all clear. But the relief came all too soon.

As I stood, arm wrapped in Rose’s elbow, one more shot rang out, instantly followed by another as I shouted out in pain.

A piercing white hot pain burned through me. Jungkook roared with rage at the front of the line as I went down, dropping to my knees with a whimper as stars exploded before my eyes.

There was no escaping the screaming in my head as bright light flooded the kitchen, illuminating the horror on Jungkook’s face as I reached for him. But it was just too much.

I’d been shot. In some stupid fucking hotel in the middle of a goddamn apocalypse.

I caught the sight of Yoongi, wrapping me in his arms and lifting me from the floor as chaos erupted around me.

The light began to fade as my eyelids grew heavier and heavier. The last thing I could hear as my mind shut down from the pain was Taehyung’s voice in my ear, filled with regret and fear, and one last bellow of anger from Jungkook before I lost consciousness and said goodnight to the world.

[marveldeliversusps]

Prompt: New Hobby

Thanks for the prompt and political advocacy, @queenoftherandomword​! Hope you like it!

Prompt: Looks like somone has a new hobby

Pairing: Stucky, shrunkyclunks, background Sam/Nat

Rating: M

Art by @inflomora-art​. I’m obsessed with this pic. 

Steve heard a knock and rushed to the door. It was around three PM and his postal worker, Bucky, would be dropping off the mail soon. On days when he wasn’t too busy, Bucky would stick around and chat with Steve for a few minutes. Those were the best days.

Mailman Bucky was beyond hot. He had a cleft chin with a bit of softness under it, wrinkles from smiling and sparkling grey eyes. He was so beautiful he even made the dumb postal worker hat look good.

When Steve pulled the door open, he found Natasha standing there expectantly. He tried to close the door but she put her foot inside the house. He set his shoulder against the door so she could push her way in.

“Nice to see you, Steve.”

Steve took a steadying breath in. He loved Natasha and looked forward to being around her. Since he’d retired from the superhero business and given the shield to Sam, time with Nat had been in short supply. However, she was perceptive and insatiably curious. If she was around when Bucky arrived, she’d sniff out Steve’s secret crush right away. Or find the numerous unopened boxes in his bedroom that he didn’t want to explain.

“Natasha,” he said.

“That’s all?”

Steve held tight onto the door. A moment of confusion or indecision would be just enough for her to elbow her way inside. This is why he needed more non-spy friends.

“Nice to see you, as always.”

Natasha rolled her eyes so dramatically her eyelashes fluttered. “What you mean to say is I’m sorry that I stood you and Sam up for our lunch date at Hot Lips pizza today, and that you two had to wait for forty-five minutes, and I can’t believe I didn’t respond to your text messages.”

Steve closed his eyes in embarrassment. “I totally forgot. I’m sorry, Nat.”

“It’s alright, Steve,” Natasha said, brushing non-existent lint from Steve’s shoulder. “I know you have other commitments. Maybe we could hang out now?”

Steve did want to spend time with her, just not for another hour when there was no risk of her meeting Bucky. Since getting together, Sam and Natasha were both happier, more fluid and less locked into decades-long patterns, but it certainly made Steve’s life more difficult. Their attempts at teasing him or caretaking were coordinated and ruthless. Loving, but ruthless.

“Now’s not a good time,” Steve said. “How about Friday you and Sam come over for a movie night?”

Natasha smiled sweetly, all her deadly angles covered by softness. She squeezed Steve’s hand gently, then dug her fingers into his wrist, making him yelp and stumble backward. As soon as Steve faltered, she charged inside and started looking around the living room. When Steve subtly positioned himself between her and the stairs to his bedroom, Natasha clocked his actions immediately. She slipped past his outstretched hands and hustled upstairs.

“Goddammit, Nat!”

Once she entered Steve’s bedroom, Natasha stopped abruptly and looked at all the unopened boxes lining the walls. “Huh.”

Steve nearly slammed into her back in his rush to beat her to the bedroom and had to grab onto the doorframe to stop himself. Natasha tilted her head to the side as if she was trying to solve a puzzle.

“What were you expecting?” Steve said.

Natasha’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know. A hot man or woman. A sex dungeon. Porn. Not a million boxes from…” she picked one up and squinted at it. “REI? What the hell, Steve?”

Steve opened and closed his mouth, not quite ready to tell the truth. The first package had been an actual order, a new pair of running shoes from an outdoor store he discovered. But then when Bucky had delivered them, REI (Recreation Equipment Inc) was apparently his favorite store, and it had given them something to chat about.

Steve had taken to buying gear from there once a week and planned his schedule to be home with the packages arrived, just so he could talk with Bucky. He’d even been working up the courage to suggest a hike together.

“I checked all the rooms downstairs,” Sam said out of nowhere.

Steve’s shoulders slumped. Of course, Sam and Natasha would be working together. They never went on ops alone anymore. Not since she was captured by AIM, and Sam leveled three blocks of downtown Mobile, Alabama to save her.

Steve should have never suggested Nat ask Sam out. Or introduced them. Or joined the Avengers.  

“Nice to see you,” Steve quipped.

Sam winked at him, the cheeky asshole. He knew Steve couldn’t stay mad at him long. “Not my fault,” Sam said, as he walked into the room. “You ditched us. And if you had just told Tasha what you were hiding--”

“I can have secrets,” Steve said petulantly.

Meanwhile, Natasha was walking around the room and shaking boxes. They all had the REI logo on the side: Sustainable Gear Built to Last. She retrieved a knife from her boot, ripped open a box and pulled out a 9.8mm Dry-Core climbing rope. It was bright yellow with red x’s on it, and Steve had picked it because he liked the design. “Is this for an outside sex dungeon?”

“Stop thinking everything is about sex!” Steve snapped. Sam raised an eyebrow at him, and Steve immediately felt bad. Before he could apologize to Natasha, she waived him off. Sam sat down on Steve’s bed and pulled out his own knife. He never used to have a million knives on him, probably Natasha’s influence.

“Do people know Captain America sneaks into people’s houses with knives?” Steve said.

Sam shrugged and carefully opened a package. “People don’t know a damn thing about me I don’t want them to know, because my girlfriend is a badass.”

A paranoid badass, Steve thought. But he had the self-preservation to keep that to himself.

Sam pulled out a Lavender Harness with yellow daisies stitched to the side. “Petzl Luna Harness,” he read off the side. “Steve, this is a woman’s harness.”

Steve crossed his arms, because he had aced his Women’s Studies class, thank you very much. “All the harnesses for women were pink and had flowers on them, and I thought that was very gender essentialist of them, so I bought it for myself in protest.”

“I’m sure they heard you loud and clear,” Sam said dryly.

They slowly unpacked all of Steve’s packages: another harness, two more ropes, a crash pad, carabiners, and several metal things Steve didn’t know the name of. After each item, Natasha looked at Steve expectantly, and he steadily denied that it was for a sex dungeon.

Next came a Marmot 1 person tent, that Steve would have to curl up in sideways to fit, a backpack, and a head lamp. He had more things he needed, but he wanted to spread the orders out.

“Why didn’t you open any of this stuff?” Sam said.

Exhausted with their questions, Steve flopped dramatically onto the floor, and he didn’t need to look up to know Sam and Natasha were doing synchronized eye rolls. “I don’t know how to use it yet!” Most of it he’d selected because he liked the colors or the philosophy of the companies. He had no idea if all the gear even all worked together. “It’s outdoor gear because my mailman likes to rock climb, and he’s hot, and I want to climb him like a tree.”

Natasha grinned triumphantly, and proclaimed, “So this is about sex!”

Steve didn’t respond, just slowly banged his head on the floor. Maybe if he blacked out they would leave him alone.

“Well, well,” Sam said.

“Don’t do that,” Steve snapped.  

“Looks like someone has a new hobby.”

Natasha leaned against Sam and giggled. It was so damn cute that Steve couldn’t decide if he wanted to wrap them in Christmas paper or throw them outside.

He almost missed the knock at the door.

“Steve,” Bucky called in. “Your door was left open. Just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

Steve shot an annoyed look at Sam who grinned unrepentantly. “Barton’s watching the entrance.” Steve should've guessed that, too. He half expected them to turn into a throuple any day now.

Natasha ignored them again, moving lightning fast to charge downstairs.

“Steve,” Bucky called again. “Hi,” he said, presumably when he saw Natasha. “Just checking in. I have a package for Steve.”

“I’m sure you do,” Natasha said meaningfully as she took the box from Bucky.

Steve made a racket in his haste to prevent Natasha from saying anything more embarrassing and landed at the door framing breathing heavily with a wild look in his eyes. Natasha, naturally, looked calm and composed.

“You must be Bucky,” Natasha said, extending her dainty hand. “Steve can’t stop talking about you.”

Steve’s cheeks immediately flamed hot, and the only saving grace was that Bucky’s cheeks pinked up adorably, too.

“Oh.” Bucky didn't elaborate further even though Steve really, really wanted him to. Was that a good oh or a bad oh? An oh or an /oh/?

Before Steve could follow up, Sam came up behind him and clapped an arm on his shoulder.

“Captain America!” Bucky exclaimed when he saw Sam. Oh no, no no no no, Steve thought. “You’re my hero! I mean, I’m an adult so not like hero hero, but it’s. Whew. It’s an honor.”

Sam grinned that warm, gap toothed smile that made old ladies weak in the knees, and he shook Bucky’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Did you serve?”

Bucky nodded, shrugging his shoulders shyly. “Yeah, two tours and all that, and you know, the post office is the number one employer of vets, so I’m here doing this. Helps to have the arm.” He pointed at his black and gold prosthetic.  Thanks for promoting that program by the way.”

Steve didn’t pout, but his inner toddler was stamping his foot. He only got a few minutes to talk to Bucky each week, and Sam was hogging all his time.

Natasha had magicked some popcorn out of nowhere, there hadn’t been any in Steve’s cupboard, and was obnoxiously monching it and watching the three of them. Knowing her, she’d probably known all of this was going to happen and brought the popcorn along as a prop.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Bucky said to Sam, “but could I get a picture?”

Sam nodded, turning to Steve with a shit eating grin. “Steve, would you mind taking a pic of us?”

Steve took Bucky’s camera. He stepped on Sam’s foot while he arranged them for the photo, because he had called dibs on Bucky, and Sam already had Natasha. “You know . . . I’ve been retired for a while.” Because if Sam could play the Captain America card, so could he. Bucky had never brought it up, so perhaps he hadn’t recognized him.

Bucky smiled softly. “I know, Steve.”

Oh, well. That was a different thing entirely. Bucky had known who Steve was all along and had never made him feel uncomfortable about it. Steve smiled back at him and took the picture.

Once they were done, Natasha leaned toward Bucky. “Tell me, Bucky, how long have you and Steve been getting to know one another.”

Steve was 100% sure that was her code for sex dungeon activities, which, what in the hell did she and Sam get up to in their free time? Nevermind, he didn’t want to know.

They didn’t call Steve the greatest strategist of his time for nothing. He subtly scooted over, forcing Natasha to lean back.

“We’ve only recently become friends,” Steve said. The blood rushed to his cheeks again when he realized what he’d said. Bucky probably had to be friendly with everyone while he was working, that didn’t mean he and Steve were friends. “I mean, I think we are.”

The sides of Bucky’s eyes crinkled adorably as he grinned. “Yeah, we’re friends, Steve.” He paused and glanced at Sam and Natasha before settling back on Steve. “Actually,” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, making his terrible round hat fall forward. He righted it quickly and said, “I was wondering if you’d like to go climbing this Saturday. I could show you the cool spots with not too many people, and--”

“Steve doesn’t know how to climb,” Natasha said around another mouthful of popcorn. “You should take me and Sam along to teach him. And Clint, too. Maybe Tony would want to come.”

By the grace of all that was good and holy, Sam had mercy and pulled Natasha away from the door whispering, “Stop cockblocking my best friend.”

Once Nat and Sam were out of earshot, Steve met Bucky’s eyes and grimaced. “I was looking for new hobbies, and when I ordered shoes you brought up climbing, and like an idiot I said I liked it too. because you are so handsome, and my brain turned into mush, and then I just didn’t want to stop talking to you.”

“I know,” Bucky said interrupting Steve’s rambling. His eyes sparkled as he grinned. “You once called a grigri a carabiner.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Exactly.” Bucky stepped closer, his expression turning mischievous. Steve could never, ever let him and Natasha become friends. “Wanna go on a date with me?” He was so close now, Steve could pick out the flecks of silver and black in his grey eyes.

Steve got lost staring until he realized Bucky had been waiting too long for a response. He didn’t seem to mind, his smile only getting wider.

“I really do want to learn to rock climb,” Steve blurted out to stop himself from saying something ridiculous like, please fuck me in your uniform.

Bucky tilted his chin back and laughed, mesmerizing Steve with the movement of his throat.

“How about we do both?” Bucky said, laughter dying down as he scooted closer.

Steve leaned down and said, “I’d like that,” against Bucky’s lips, the moment before they kissed. Distantly, he heard the sounds of Natasha and Sam cheering, but he blocked them out in favor of gripping Bucky’s hip and pulling their bodies flush against one another.

“The man has to work,” Sam called out. “Don’t get freaky and delay the mail.”

Bucky pulled back and patted Steve’s shoulder. “See you soon, Stevie.”

After he left, Steve collapsed on the couch next to Sam, heady with the experience, until a sudden realization left him cold.

“I forgot to get his number.”

Sam waved him off, and pointed at the kitchen where Nat was rifling through Steve’s cabinets. “Don’t worry. Tasha has it already.”

Steve groaned. Of course she did. And if by some chance she didn’t, Steve could always order another box from REI.

---

Learn more about Marvel Delivers USPS here! 

[forkanna]

ALSO READ ON: [AO3] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

WARNINGS: Petplay, exhibitionism, cunnilingus, watersports(kinda). This chapter is going to remind people that I once co-wrote My Sister's Mistress, haha… though honestly it's not that bad.

Happy December!

I'm very sorry to all three of you waiting for the epilogue of this fic. I was feeling fairly dissatisfied with my writing, so I took some time off for reading, and NaNoWriMo to focus on my original work (expect news about that soon). Though some mental fog remains, I'm feeling a little sharper and more capable now to continue delivering updates. And to that end...

Prepare yourselves for WE'LL FACE OURSELVES: GOLDEN! This will not continue the story of Yukiko and Chie, though they will be around here and there; instead, it will focus on another unlikely ship entirely. I'll begin posting that in about a month, or sooner if I find time. You may also want to keep your eyes peeled for more content pertaining to another fandom of which I am a part...

Thanks so much for sticking with this until the end. If you'd like to look me up on other platforms, please check out my Carrd!

Until we meet again, Jessex

                                                   EPILOGUE

A horrific day that everyone hoped would never come had finally ambushed the Investigation Team. Yu Narukami was leaving Inaba.

Not a dry eye was to be had at the Yasoinaba station as they watched their gray-haired friend bid fond farewells to all the other friends he had made throughout the year. Chie herself was a little shocked to see just how many there were — hell, even after almost a year she was still shocked that Rise Kujikawa, the real Risette, was one of them! An internationally known pop idol! But there she was, hanging on one of Yu's arms and sobbing into his jacket.

"Yu-kun, don't gooooo!" she blubbered, long auburn pigtails trembling with her movements. "I wanna get to spend G-Golden Week with you, Senpaiiiiii!"

Naoto and Kanji weren't much better. They made for such an odd-looking pair, the rough-and-tumble yakuza-wannabe letting fat tears roll down his cheeks as he was comforted by the small, reserved boy-who-was-not-quite-a-boy. Even after finding out Naoto was a woman, not much had changed; she still dressed like a boy and even behaved like one in most ways. All of Rise's attempts to "girlify" her had fallen flat. Chie really had wound up with a colourful assortment of friends, but she wouldn't change that for the world.

"Yeah, man, you can't take off," Yosuke chuckled. Trying to suppress his feelings with humour; they all knew he was going to miss Yu as much as anyone. "Your girlfriend's gonna miss you, and that ain't cool."

Not that he was pointing at Rise. No, his finger was levelled at Nanako — the little girl she and Yukiko had run into once upon a time who turned out to be Yu's cousin. She was currently hiding behind the leg of her father, Detective Ryotaro Dojima, coming over shy after he had reprimanded her for being too clingy with the boy she had dubbed her big brother. Not that he could control Rise doing the exact same thing, despite having nearly ten years on the second-grader.

"Oh, shut up," Yu grunted — though his motivation was pure, as always. "Don't tease her."

"Whaaat? I'm teasing you, not…" But at the glares from everybody, Yosuke sighed and deflated. "You guys are no fun."

Rise pulled back, her large doe eyes shining with tears — on purpose, Chie knew. She was a top notch actress. "Can't you give me a little kiss goodbye? Something to keep me from… from dying from missing you?"

"Oh please," Yukiko muttered under her breath with a begrudging smile.

But Yu obliged. Sort of. Instead of sweeping her into a graceful dip and really planting one on her, he kissed her forehead. It was a tender gesture, though, so Rise couldn't complain; a much more genuine little smile pulled at her pouty mouth, and she hugged him around the middle.

"Excuse me? What do you think you're doing?"

They all pulled back to see Ai Ebihara approaching, hands on her hips. This bitch again? However, something was different about her compared to their last run-in. She was still glamorous, but Chie couldn't help noticing it seemed like her outfit was a little more… conservative?

"What is who doing?" Rise protested, clinging a little tighter to Yu's arm.

"You! Little trollop!" The teen queen stomped over to the two of them, getting right up in Rise's face. She was a little taller and therefore more imposing, but Rise didn't seem scared in the slightest. "Get your greedy little paws off my boyfriend!"

The idol stamped her foot and snapped, "HEY! I don't see your name on him anywhere!"

Yu gulped and began to back away. "Uh…"

"Really?" Ebihara scoffed. "What makes you think you have any claim to him, slut puppy? He went to the festival with me — and spent Christmas Eve with me, too! And for your goddamn information, we got pretty close!"

Poor Rise. Though she was flirty and manipulative toward Yu and Yosuke, it was in a playful way; she did consider them both friends but couldn't seem to suppress her impulses. And here Ai was making all kinds of accusations and getting legitimately competitive. Her lip wobbled, though Chie was fairly certain it had as much to do with losing out to Ai as it had to do with losing Yu himself.

"Senpai, say that's not true! How could you, when I… I let you… you know!"

"Hey, it doesn't count when I'm just sitting there and you plop your butt down on my hand," he protested at her. "And Ai-chan, we hugged a little; please don't tease her by making it sound like more."

Both of his would-be girlfriends pouted and averted their eyes, cheeks turning pinker. Ai seemed a little more genuinely hurt than her rival for the boy's attentions.

"Whew," Yosuke exhaled, wiping his brow. "Don't know how you get away with it, juggling two chicks like that."

"That's not- I didn't…" Yu sighed, shaking his head as he facepalmed. "Maybe I'm glad to be leaving."

But the minute he said so, even if it was in jest, all faces wore expressions of deep sorrow. Nobody really wanted him to go. They had all known his stopover in Inaba had been temporary and yet it was still a terrible shock that Yu would no longer be hanging out with them on a daily basis, going to school, having roundtable discussions in the Junes food court.

"The end of an era, man," Kanji grunted, trying to look tough and only partially succeeding.

"Aww, cheer up, guys!" Teddie proclaimed, bouncing up and down on his heels so hard his blond locks bounced with him. "We'll see Sensei again! Bet on that!"

"There you go, Teddie," Yu laughed quietly, nodding his direction. The bear-shadow-turned-human beamed.

"And in the meantime, I can look after all the girls for you! You don't have to worry about a thing!"

Rise stuck her tongue out at the well-meaning bear. "I don't want you, I want Senpai!"

As the squabbling only grew worse, other classmates began to approach to wish Yu bon voyage. Some girl from his drama class, those guys from the basketball team… even some young boy and his clearly married mother, though she did seem a bit too young to have a child of that age. Their team leader really had left an impression in the short year he had lived there.

When the train whistle signaled that it was about to pull away, the bickering came to an end so they could truly see their friend off. A lot of tearful hugs and well wishes were offered before he was inside, looking out the window at them as it pulled away from the station. They ran after him all the way to the end of the platform until they ran out of space, then stood waving after him until the train was completely out of sight.

Chie was amused that it turned out to be Rise comforting Ebihara, and Yosuke comforting Teddie. Those were some pretty mismatched pairings. Ryotaro took a sobbing Nanako home, and that seemed to be an unofficial signal for them to disperse from the station.

While Kanji was busy throwing an arm around Yosuke's shoulders, proclaiming loudly that they were about to go drinking despite the fact that neither of them had easy access to alcohol at their age, it was Naoto of all people who started drifting closer to Chie and Yukiko. At first, Chie assumed she just wanted some company, but it turned out…

"Forgive my curiosity, but I've been wondering about something for a while now."

"Hm?" asked a bleary eyed Yukiko. She hadn't sobbed the way Rise did, but she wasn't completely unaffected by the parting. "I'm sorry, what's that?"

"Why have you been wearing a dog collar for the past several months?"

Both girls stopped dead in their tracks. If this were an anime, there would have been a record-scratch sound effect. Yukiko flashed a nervous half-smile at her girlfriend, who was busy tugging at the neckline of her shirt and gulping.

"W-well, it's… a fashion statement," the junior innkeeper finally told her.

"Uh… huh." Her sharp eyes looked between the two. "You may have forgotten in all the excitement of defeating Adachi and Izanami, but I am a detective. Do you want me to simply state what I have deduced from my observations, or would you like t-"

"Okay, okay, already!" Chie hissed, waving back and forth rapidly with her hand. "Can you maybe keep it under that crazy blue hat of yours?!"

Before Naoto could respond to the crack about her belted newsboy cap, a throat was cleared behind the three of them. Ai had broken off from the others and approached them, looking penitent and uncomfortable.

"Yes?" Yukiko prompted her in mild surprise.

"I… thought I should say… I am sorry." She swallowed hard, brows furrowed. The expression still made her look angry and snobby, despite her tone of voice being gentle now; she just had resting bitch face. "Probably too late. But I was really going through some things when I sidelined you two in Aiya, and being rude is second nature to me. Can't be the most stunning girl in school without it going to your head, can you?"

"You say that like I would ever know," Chie snorted.

"Right. And… normally I would be agreeing with you and belittling you, Bowl Cu- I mean, Satonaka. I have a lot of practice." Grimacing, she growled, "Got so used to being queen bitch that it's so hard to just be nice."

After a brief silence, so awkward that it felt as if any sound would have been preferable, Yukiko laid a hand on Ai's arm, gentle and reassuring. "Please, Ai-san. We all have darkness inside of us; nobody is a perfect person. So I think it's very admirable you're seeing your flaws and that you're trying to improve. I am the same, and so are my friends."

"Oh yeah?" The girl let out a wet-sounding laugh; indeed, tears were budding at the corners of her eyes. "How the hell aren't you perfect, Miss Goody Two-Shoes? I mean… I've always been so jealous of how the boys talk about you. No 'buts'."

"No butts?!" Chie burst out. "What do you mean? She's got a GREAT butt!"

Ai chuckled a little more heartily at that. Naoto was the only one who tapped her chin while noticing Yukiko's slight blush from the compliment; the others weren't paying it any attention. "No, no, not her ass. Which fine, sure, it's fantastic. I mean like, they describe both of us as really beautiful, or hot or whatever. Same words for both of us. But with me, it always had a 'but she's such a bitch', 'but she's stuck up', 'but she's psycho' attached. Yukiko… a couple of guys said you were snooty if you turned them down for a date, but the rest of them saw through that. You're a good woman and I'm just a good-looking woman. I did so much work to be beautiful so boys would like me, but I'm just… ugly on the inside."

Though clearly, Yukiko was about to speak up, Chie beat her to the punch. "So that's it, huh? You're pathetic."

"Excuse me?"

"C'mon, Ebihara. You're made of tougher shit than that. Where's that girl who slammed her leg up on the table in Aiya and demanded we appreciate it?"

Though the teen queen had been firing up, being reminded of that moment in the diner made her squirm and fold her arms tightly over her chest. "That was stupid. Do you wanna know why I did that?" When Yukiko nodded, she pushed ahead, "Thing is, I was a... when I was little, I was nowhere near the adorable Ai you see before you now. Fat and hideous, got told I had pig hooves. So like, I'm sure it sounds really stupid to you guys, but having dainty little feet now is super amazing to me still."

"You were fat?!" Chie demanded, looking her up and down afresh. "No way! I call bullshit!"

"Yep, a total blimp. And I got hella teased because I didn't match up with their… whatever. Yu already knows all this stuff, but pretty much I decided to reinvent myself when I found out we were moving to Inaba. Obviously it went to my head, but… at least I'm better now. Getting better all the time."

None of them knew what to say. Chie, for her part, was stunned that Ebihara turned out to be more than a one-dimensional prima donna; she had never given any indication otherwise, even in Aiya when her interests in Yu were revealed to be genuine. Maybe he was the one responsible. After all, while the team had been doing their best to save the victims from dying inside the TV and stop further kidnappings in the first place, Yu Narukami had touched all their lives, brought about an awakening of sorts to their inner beauty that they likely would never have found within themselves without him shedding that light. It just seemed to be one of his latent talents. Unsurprising that he had done the same for the entitled fashionista.

"There seems to be only one solution for this predicament," Naoto was stating firmly with a small nod, finger tapping her chin. "We must return to Aiya to remember our departed friend, and strengthen our bonds with each other."

"Oooh, a party!" Rise piped up with an excited little bounce, despite the light drizzle that was beginning to fall. "Yes please!"

"I guess that's a plan," Chie agreed as Rise, Kanji and Yosuke joined them. "What do you guys think? We catching the portal to the meat dimension?"

Grimacing, Yosuke demanded, "Do you have to call it that every time, Satonaka?! Geesh! Sounds super nasty."

"Bet you can't even handle it."

"Wha- OH YEAH?! BRING IT ON!"

                                      ~ o ~

"Ohhhhh, I couldn't eat another bite," Yukiko groaned as they slid open the door to her bedroom at the Amagi Inn. They had whiled away many hours at the diner before the fellowship was broken, and they began to drift their separate ways. Rise was the most afraid to be alone out of any of them, and seemed to want to hang out with Ebihara, despite their strife over Yu's affections. Naoto went off by herself to think, Kanji and Yosuke reinitiated their quest for liquor, that girl from drama class was hanging out with Daisuke and Kou from the sports clubs… and the two illicit lovers had paired off with no one questioning why. Probably because they had already been best friends for their entire lives.

"Well I could," Chie laughed in response as she grabbed a pair of paper slippers. "But you know me, I can always eat."

Yukiko giggled as she began to strip off her remaining clothing. "You and Yosuke, I swear. Your appetites are bottomless."

"Hey, I'm a growing girl!" she said, jabbing herself in the chest with a thumb. "What's his excuse? He doesn't even do martial arts!"

Once fully divested, lithe form fully on display for the other woman in the room, the junior innkeeper approached her side and slid her hands up to gently perch on her shoulders. "Mmm, yes of course. So very strong."

It was impossible for Chie to keep the blush fully out of her cheeks. "Y-yeah. I mean, strong when you're not making my knees weak."

"But Master shouldn't say things like that in front of her pet. She might think she can control her Master, and that isn't very good, is it?"

"True, yeah." Chie shook her head with a vague smile on her lips. It was funny; she was supposed to be the one in control, but most often it was Yukiko who reminded them of their play. The roles they were to serve for each other.

"Mhmmm. Alright." Even though she was clearly a little nervous, she crossed to her dresser, slid open a drawer and began to rummage behind the various undergarments arranged there. "I think we're both ready now."

Poor Chie didn't even bother to ask "ready for what?", because by the time the words began to form on her lips, her best friend was turning around, dropping to the floor and crawling toward her… with a long leather leash dangling from between her teeth.

"A-ah."

"Wrgh dng hrrg trh," Yukiko said — before Chie took the leash from her to allow her room to speak. "I m-mean to say, this is only if you feel up to it, or are interested. But we've spoken a lot about it in the past few weeks, and… and I feel like I would be alright with it."

"Okay, whoa whoa," she laughed nervously. "Listen, I… know you think nobody will see us, but c'mon, the inn gets guests all the time! And like, what if your mom sees us?!"

Sitting up a little straighter, the puppy-girl reassured her, "No, no, I have a plan. Do you know the forest behind our property? It's a little bit of a walk, and I know it might seem silly to take a walk before my walk, but we will probably be free from prying eyes out there. So… so do you want to?"

Any fool in Chie's position could have been able to tell that this girl wanted nothing more than to take her love into the woods so they could play. Even if the type of play they wanted to do was highly unorthodox. How could she say no to those big, baleful eyes?

"Yeah, of course. So um, maybe just put this around your waist under your kimono?"

"YES!" she burst out — before calming herself and clearing her throat. "I mean, yes, that is a good plan. I'll get dressed, try to keep the leash on."

In no time at all, they were strolling through the grounds behind the Amagi Inn, seeming to the single gardener they passed as if they were merely two high school friends out for a stroll. Nothing telltale from their appearances to suggest otherwise — except the collar, and even that wasn't immediately noticeable.

"Okay," Chie whispered once they were in the treeline. "Are you really sure about this one? Cuz like, if you wanna bail on the idea, you can, right now, and I won't give you any shit. I swear."

But Yukiko was already shaking her head from side to side, even before she got halfway through speaking. "I've been looking forward to trying this for so long! Maybe it hasn't always seemed like it, but… how can we know whether or not we enjoy it if we don't try?"

That, as they say, was that.

"Okay…" Chie cleared her throat and tried not to feel too overly self-conscious. "Then take it all off so we can get started."

By far the most difficult thing to endure was watching Yukiko slowly disrobe — which she was clearly doing on purpose, adding to the anticipation. She even did that thing where she paused with the yukata halfway down her back, looking at Chie over her shoulder with a coquettish flutter of her eyelashes. 'Nosebleed City, population: me,' Chie thought to herself. Then she let it drop all the way to the forest floor, pooling amongst the grass and leaves.

Nude… except for two leather straps. One around her neck and another trailing down her back.

"Gooooood," she managed to groan. Then she shook herself and caught up the end of the lead. "Okay, so like… what now? I just take you for a walk?"

"Master, come on," she giggled. "You're not being a good Master." But when Chie frowned, Yukiko fidgeted and added, "I'm sorry. That was supposed to sound teasing, but instead… well, I really am sorry. I was trying to say that you weren't playing your role yet."

"Okay." Taking a deep breath, she cracked her neck and tried to shove away those feelings of inadequacy that had begun to brew. "So you mean I'm supposed to start being a dog owner for real? Like, until we decide we're done and wanna go back inside?"

"Yes," she sighed in obvious relief that Chie wasn't upset with her. "How about this: I'll get on hands and knees, and that's when we start? And I'll stand up if I need to stop."

"Sure yeah, that sounds pretty simple. Go for it when you're ready."

With a small nod, Yukiko stepped out of her zori and into the grass, toes flexing as it tickled them. Her lips quirked into a reassuring little smile before she dropped down to all fours, perky little ass high in the air. Chie wanted to dive right into that inviting sight now — but she could wait. They had a game to play; they could have sex pretty much anytime they were alone together, as long as they were careful about noise levels. And door locks.

"Okay girl, let's go!" she commanded her in a more cheerful tone. This wasn't their first time playing in this way, or even their tenth. They just had never taken the playing outside of a locked bedroom before.

And miraculously… they went. Yukiko started walking along on her hands and knees, making little panting noises now and then. Just to maintain the illusion. Chie was both disturbed and turned on, but that happened a lot during their more adventurous encounters. The more they learned about this strange new culture they were a part of — thanks to the internet — the more intrigued they were, but Chie wasn't as good at taking it in stride as her puppy was.

Her puppy, Yukiko. Still bizarre to her.

"What is it, girl? You like that one?"

"Wan wan!" she yipped joyfully as she continued to mime sniffing a tree.

"Then it's all yours," she laughed easily, reaching down to scratch behind her ear. Her girlfriend hummed at the pleasant sensation, and even tried to jiggle one of her legs. With some success. Then she unclipped the leash from her collar. "Wanna play fetch, Yuka?"

More gleeful barking. So she found a stick and wiped it quickly on her sleeve — which, obviously, she wouldn't do for a real dog like Muku, but she figured she owed Yukiko at least that much.

"Go get it, girl!"

As Chie watched Yukiko, a real human being, bound off into the brush after a stick, she couldn't help feeling that her life had really gotten off track at some point. Mostly, she just wanted to be a semi-normal girl who went to school, hung out with her friends, practiced martial arts. Lately she had been toying with the idea of going into law enforcement when she grew up. Maybe it was because of all their adventures inside the TV, and saving Inaba from the menace of a vengeful god who had judged humanity as both too complacent and too volatile. She had found that not only did her kung fu training really pay off, but she also had enjoyed the idea of saving people more than she expected. And it was important work.

But seeing Yukiko creeping back from the bushes with the stick between her teeth gave her pause. Surely a cop didn't do things like this. Or maybe they did and she was just naive. No matter how many times they discussed the fact that she obviously loved her little Yuka, it still felt foreign and weird to order her around, treat her like property.

Even if they both got off on the roles of master and pet.

They had probably been playing fetch for about twenty minutes when Yukiko dropped the stick at her feet, then reared up to rest her "forepaws" on her master's hips. Barking at her. It was as cute as it was bizarre. Privately, she kept wondering if it hurt her knees to romp around like that, but Yukiko never complained. So she crouched down to scrub all over her hair, disheveling it so badly that she would definitely need to brush it out when they got back to the inn, and her girlfriend responded with more happy yips and licking all over her face.

"AH!" she giggled, trying to push her away without any success. Yukiko could be pretty strong when she set her mind to it. "Cut it out, Yuka! Ewww!"

Of course, this wasn't the first time the kisses had turned to doggy kisses. Though it was still a little icky, it was also highly entertaining for both of them so they had slowly incorporated it into their play. Yukiko's wet pink tongue slathered all over her cheeks, lips, chin… anywhere she could reach. Until finally, Chie grabbed her by the collar and held her back.

"Okay, girl! I love you, too." Yuka barked again so she grinned and pushed their foreheads together. "Who's a happy girl? Huh? Who's my sweet, sweet, happy girl?"

The junior innkeeper's ass wiggled from side to side. They had discussed getting her ears and a tail to help complete the illusion, but decided it would be a lot harder to explain those versus the collar and leash, which could just as easily be for Muku as for Yuka. Besides, she was pretty good at wagging a non-existent tail.

Chie was distracted from her thoughts when she noticed her girlfriend was sniffing around the hem of her skirt. She saw a coy smile grace her lips just before her face shot beneath to nuzzle against her center.

"WHOA!" she gasped — and went down hard on her backside. "Oof!"

When Yukiko's face reappeared, she looked very concerned. Still, they had agreed she was not to break character unless Chie had made it clear that she should.

"I'm okay, girl," she reassured her pet with a shaky laugh. "Just, uh… did not expect you to go for it like that. What is it, girl? Smell something good?" Yukiko gave a very human nod before remembering herself, and letting out a bark instead. "Yeah? Um, y-you want a treat from Master for being so good?"

That prompted a very strong bark, and her girlfriend gave a pronounced wiggle from stem to stern, to make sure there could be no question she really wanted that treat. So Chie leaned back against her elbows, allowing her thighs to fall open. Within a single second, her face was right back between those thighs, snuffling around and making sure her lips and nose were pushing into everything firmly.

And God help her, it was so hot. Every time they played like this, she still expected to feel disgusted regardless of how often she enjoyed it. And then was still surprised again. Maybe she really did have a learning disability of some kind.

When the nuzzling began to feel a little more pointed and purposeful, she realized that Yuka had hit an impasse. Sliding a hand down between them, she shakily tugged the crotch of her panties aside to grant her pet access. No time was wasted. After only a couple of sniffs, a warm, wet tongue was pressing into her needy flesh.

Chie really hoped nobody else would suddenly decide to take a walk through the woods. Not with her screaming out in ecstasy like that, a buck naked girl's face between her legs.

After a few months of trial-and-error, Yukiko Amagi was nothing less than a professional when it came to cunnilingus. That tongue knew every little fold and crease of her lover's sex, and she was an expert at finding the ways to set her off. With almost brutal efficiency, even if the touches were sometimes so light and delicate. Chie gave herself over completely, reaching down to grip her raven locks and hold her in place as she began to buck her hips against that insanely gifted mouth.

So close… "I'm coming! Good girl, Yuka! More!"

Well, she most definitely got what she asked for. At this point the game had been suspended while Yukiko ate her out with all the skills she had learned over the past several months, almost as if someone had challenged her to do the deed as quickly and spectacularly as possible. Her tongue almost seemed to be in two places at once.

Birds took off flying from the treetops when Chie cried out from the climax rocking her entire body, back arching off the forest floor. It was beyond mind-blowing. And all thanks to a good little doggie.

"Tapout!" she finally gasped a few moments later. That was the codeword they had developed for when their eager clits had been overstimulated to the point they couldn't handle any more. Yukiko's tongue disappeared, and she breathed a sigh of relief as her entire body shook and shivered. "Nnhh… oh GOD, that was… super intense!"

A little giggle spilled from the shining lips of her love as she crouched over her. Looking at her with bottomless affection. Just a moment for that to be made known — before she bounced a little. "WAN!"

"Y-yeah… good girl… c'mere…" She patted her chest and Yukiko crawled up to lick all over her face. "AWWW, NOOOO! Yuka, down! C'mooooon!"

Of course, it didn't take long for her to shove her puppy off and to stand up again, though her knees were a bit wobbly. A few deep, cleansing breaths cleared her head enough to clip the leash to Yuka's collar again and set off walking around the woods with her.

"You did such a good job!" she told Yuka — and Yukiko, really. Though she knew she couldn't talk back while they were in the middle of play. "I'm really happy. And even though Narukami's gone, I mean, he'll be back… and the rest of our lives are pretty great. Kinda kicking ass and taking names lately."

"Wan, wan!" Yuka replied. Too cute.

"You like taking walks with Master?" She paused to turn and look up at her, panting with her tongue out; a doggie smile. "Awww, I'm so glad! Sweet baby!"

Yukiko put her paws up again, but this time Chie pointed at her and said, "Down. You know better than that, girl." In response, she let out a little whine and got down on all fours again, looking up at her with large, baleful eyes that would have melted glaciers. "I'm sorry, but you have to behave; I can't have you jumping up on my friends!"

Not that there was any chance of that happening. Even after Naoto had figured it out, they still agreed this was only something for the two of them — nobody else.

Mostly obedient, Yuka pouted a little longer before she resumed trotting through the grass. Once or twice she winced when she crawled over a stick or a rock, but mostly she picked her way around them; they already established their rules for this interaction were no permanent injury. Chie wouldn't begrudge her that, even for the sake of "committing to the role".

They came to a stop nearly half an hour later when Yukiko began sniffing around a white pine tree excitedly. Chie couldn't blame her; evergreens smelled amazing. But as she sniffled… a memory of a previous conversation came back to her master. Were they ready? Most importantly, was Yukiko?

"Okay," she suddenly said, though she could hear the nerves in her own voice. "Mark it so we can go home."

Yukiko's look of surprise was priceless. Even while in Yuka-mode, she couldn't seem to fully suppress that deep level of alarm. But she didn't argue or stand up.

"Go on… if you, um, you need to."

There was a brief moment where it almost looked as if her girlfriend would either cry, or stand up and tell her off. Then she raised one leg…

And let out a golden stream against the bark of the pine's trunk. Chie felt her stomach disappear: she really did it. Her girlfriend, poised, refined innkeeper that she was, a true classic Japanese beauty… was pissing like a dog on a tree. Curiosity spiking, she took a further step to her right to get a better view, and was greeted with the sight of the thin arc of urine issuing from the top of her flawless pink pussy — two fingers on either side, to help keep the liquid from catching on the flushed lips.

Flushed from arousal, from going down on her? Or did she like this? Maybe "like" was too strong a word: Yukiko found it satisfying to be degraded in very small ways, so long as they played into her role of belonging to a loving master. By now, Chie had figured out — thanks in part to her shadow — that this was due to her desire to be cared for, cherished. To belong. Perhaps having to pee like a puppy in the woods pushed the boundary of what constituted a small way, but it wasn't so overboard that she broke character. In that way, it had been a perfect thing to demand of her.

As her thoughts bumped around inside her skull, the stream petered out. Yuka shook her raised leg a little, to rid herself of lingering droplets, then lowered it back to the ground. She was trembling all over, and she winced, but still made no comment.

"Very… good, Yuka," she told her in a distant voice. "Oh wow…"

A whining noise came from her puppy-slash-girlfriend, and she made baleful eyes up at her. Not very often had she witnessed Yukiko's cheeks flushed as they were in that moment. But the moment Chie began to frown, she nuzzled her leg — reassuring her that she was not upset with her. Just that the experience had been a strange, unsettling one.

"Okay, um… well, you did your business, so I guess we, like… should head back? Y-yeah…" But she instead dropped to one knee, pulling her in for a hug. Yuka leaned into the contact gratefully but didn't embrace her back, since dogs didn't use their forelegs like that.

In a flash, she knew what she could do to make her feel better. It was so obvious! After petting over her hair and back a few times, she started sliding her hand all the way back to her rump, then angling downward.

"Wan?" Yuka barked, the noise holding a very human question even if it was animal speech.

"Shhhh, shhh," she soothed her, petting along the damp folds. "Master saw you were really wet back here, girl. I-is it okay if I clean you up?"

Her girlfriend let out some very sensual dog-whines. Which apparently were possible. Chie felt her stomach turn a tiny bit at knowing this wasn't just excitement she was playing around in, because some of it was pee, but probably not much. And either way… it was Yukiko. She didn't mind.

And clearly, neither did Yukiko. As her attentions grew more pointed and firmer, fingers parting the lips and dragging up toward her ass, then back down toward her pulsing clit, the puppy panted and moaned, hips squirming from side to side as if to shake her off. Their past experiences had at least taught them to stop taking that involuntary reaction as a sign that their partner actually wanted them to stop; there had been a few touch-and-go moments thanks to miscommunication. Practice makes perfect, after all.

Kissing the top of her head, Chie whispered, "It's okay, Yuka. Master's gonna take care of you. Just let it feel good, okay? Like you made Master feel good before!"

By now, Yukiko was full-on baying — when she wasn't making more human sounds of pleasure. They were terribly hard to suppress in that state. Her hips were rolling into the contact, begging for more. Not for the first time, Chie wished she had a cock to slam into her — and they had considered buying one, many times. Probably would soon. Maybe even one that had two ends…

Once she started in on her clit, it only took another minute of blistering punishment before Yuka couldn't suppress her climax anymore. Her back arched and she let out a howl as the pleasure racked her body, nearly sending her face-first into the leaves and grass. And even doing something so base, she looked as elegant as always. The magic of Yukiko.

"Gooooood girl!" Chie praised her, kissing between her shoulder blades as her other hand pet up and down her neck. "So good, you were amazing! I'm so proud of my pretty Yuka!"

There was a much more subdued little "Wan" that fell from her lips before she gave a weak wag of her hips from side to side. But at least she was clearly happy.

As they continued their way back to the spot where they left the yukata, Chie was all smiles, and kept praising Yuka or commenting on what they might do later in the day. They had fallen into the habit of Yukiko using happy barks and whines to show her approval or disapproval of their various plans; that way she still got to put in her two yen without fully breaking character. Maybe it was cheating, but who cared?

"God, I could use some lemon soda," Chie sighed as the clothes came into view. "Oh — there we go. Did you have fun out here today, Yuka?"

"WAN!" she barked with a huge, panting grin, bouncing a little. Then she winced. "Nnn…"

"Yuka?" But she shook her head, so Chie sighed and pulled her closer to the clothes. "Mkay, let's get outta here; we still have time to play some Famidrive. Bet I can whoop you in Power Intuition!"

But as Yukiko drew almost right up to the clothes, which would be the official end of their play, Chie suddenly stopped and held the leash taut. There was a quiet gag before her girlfriend turned around to look up at her curiously.

"Wait… um… I was gonna do this later, but I think… I wanna do it now. While you're still on your walk, Yuka." Meaning during play. She actually had been going to wait for her birthday, but that was almost a year away — and she hated that she hadn't thought of it before the last one. Oh well, better late than never.

"Wan?" Yuka asked in concern.

"Huh? O-oh, right! I got you a little something." Kneeling down, she produced it from her jacket pocket and held it out. "Hope you like it, girl."

It was a dog tag. Not just any tag, but a bamboo tag with an elegant burned-in design of flames on one side. When Chie's nervously twitching fingers turned it around, the kanji "優花" were emblazoned on the back: Yuka. Gentle flower.

There was a very real gasp from her girlfriend before she squealed, "CHIE!" and threw her arms around her, bouncing with happiness. Her owner just began to laugh when she suddenly drew back and cleared her throat. "W-wan!"

"It's cool," she laughed as she reached for her collar. "We were almost done, anyway, right? Hmm…" Then she delicately began to attach the tag to her pet. The big grin and the way she could barely keep still was too adorable — and doglike, which continuously surprised her. Even if Yukiko was a beautiful debutante in so many ways, she was also the world's cutest puppy. "There!"

And no sooner had she finished than she was pounced upon, licked all over her face amid a flurry of giggles. After a minute or two, she managed to push the girl away and stood up.

"Okay, you can stand up too now."

"Ohhhh, Chie, it's gorgeous!" Yukiko gushed as she finally rose to her feet, catching up the yukata along the way. "Where did you get it? How long have you been hanging onto this?!"

"Few days," she told her shyly, watching her slip her zori back on. So cute the way her little toes wriggled to slip the thong between them. "J-just… you got me that necklace for White Day, and I don't know why, I didn't even think about-"

"Stop that," she cut her off. "We already discussed this, I told you I wasn't even sure if I should get you something. Since we aren't boyfriend-girlfriend, we are two girls; the rules aren't the same. So you didn't disappoint me!"

Shrugging as she helped her slide the light kimono around her body, she muttered, "Y-yeah, but you still deserved a gift. And we've been going out for like a whole year, so…"

"Almost a year," she whispered back with a twinkle in her eyes. One that made her suspicious.

"Um… you're not planning some kinda crazy thing next month, are you? Like, because it's our anniversary?"

Trying to sound innocent, she pressed a hand into her clothed chest — now that she had finished tying her yukata, naturally. "Why, Chie-chan! Would I do that?"

"Yep. Okay, okay… I guess I do wanna celebrate it, but don't go wacko! Just like, find us something fun. Maybe we can have a nice din-"

"Don't you worry about a thing," she reassured her lover as she linked their arms together. "Just don't be too busy that day and everything will come up roses. Okay?"

Letting out a loud "UGHHHHH", Chie tried to be grumpy as they headed for the edge of the woods, and toward the Amagi Inn beyond. But she still ended up leaning over to whisper, "Fine, I'm excited. Just don't tell anybody."

"Because our relationship is anyone's business as it is," she giggled. "Hmm… are you sure this is the right way?"

As Chie Satonaka stared at the pretty little innkeeper, the shafts of light filtering through the trees, her heart stopped for a moment as time froze. Because her priestess was there, and warm, and real, and so sweet and beautiful. Because they were there together.

"Everything's right, Yukiko," she whispered with a huge, goofy grin. "Everything."

                                      ~ THE END ~

[firehedgehog]

Undertale choose your Adventure

A Crack Story, Originally written and posted on Wattpad. Dream was on a walk.. and then it went weird.

So originally as said, was posted on Wattpad where at the end of each chapter there was a set of Votes. The Story finally finished but you can still find the original stuff on Watt. Here is the completed version minus the votes. If you want to join in future Adventures, please keep an eye on my wattpad account under the same name.

It was a beautiful day in the multiverse, singing flowers blooming birds... no they actually were.

Its not a misprint.

And a Skeleton was making there way through the area.

Dream Thought it was a beautiful day.

No battles.

His brother wasn't causing issues, and Ink for once wasn't driving him up the wall.

Nothing could make this day go badly.

Then he saw someone ahead.

Standing there was Error, The Destroyer.

Ink rival..

Dream was on his own, and his attacks would only do so much.

So... what if he changed what he did.

Taking a deep breath Dream walked towards the destroyer, who was apparently snacking on chocolate.

"Hey good looking," Dream said with an easy grin.

Error blinked and looked at the gold garbed skeleton.

"What are you on Dream?" Error asked.

"Who said I was on anything," he purred back.

Error glitched a bit more then usual.

"What's Inky's plan now," he growled.

"Just my plans," Dream said leaning up.

 Chu

Error fell down with a thud as Dream kissed him.

"Um..." Dream said as Error started rebooting.

"Get away from him Dream!" a voice growled.

And there was Nighty, looking as evil and goopy as always.

"Aw come on, he might be evil but at least he's cute and has a soul. Why do you always stop be from getting a boyfriend!" Dream pouted stamping his foot.

"Because your an immature idiot and think Ink for brains is a good choice half the time," Nightmare replied smugly.

Meanwhile Error had rebooted and hid in the bushes.

"No way! He just wants me for emotions! So let em have Error!" Dream cried.

"No way! Do you know how hard it was to get to the friend zone! I have to make it to the boyfriend zone next!" Nightmare snarled.

"So we both want him!" Dream said drawing his bow and arrows.

Error ate popcorn in the bushes.

It was nice to be wanted.

"We'll decide in a battle!" Nightmare called.

They leapt forward, attack on attack...

And somehow created a pentagram shape.

And activated it.

And Blinked.

"Blue?" Dream asked bewildered, as the other star sans seemed to appear in the pentagram.

"Wasn't I just making Tacos?" Blue said looking around a tray of food in his hands.

"I knew it!" Nightmare cried pointing at Blue.

"Knew what?" Dream asked.

"I knew Blue had to be secretly evil!" Nightmare yelled dramatically.

Error fell over laughing in the bushes, scattering his popcorn everywhere.

"Its is something I'm wearing?" Blue asked looking down at his clothing.

"EVIL!" Nightmare hissed.

"Brother... I'm sure this is a misunderstanding," Dream sighed, trying not to think of the weird thing Blue did.

"EVIL!" Nightmare cried.

"Can you guys send me home, the ovens still on," Blue asked with a sigh.

"He has to be evil, because he made friends with Error!" Nightmare protested, Blues eye twitched.

"That's jut the power of friendship, after all your Error's friend," Dream pointed out smugly.

"EVIL!" Nightmare ylled which was starting to get annoying.

"SEND ME HOME NOOOOOW!" Blue said in a warped voice an Error symbol appearing in one eye, the twins eeped and hugged each other.

When no return summon had happened, Blue got mad.

"So your just going to cry like babies," he said, voice still warped.

"Run you fools," Error said from his spot.

"Ha ha ah, I'm sure we'll be alright.. were friends right?"Dream asked nervously.

"We're going to die," Nightmare shivered.

"I'm sure it will be fine, after all Blue.. was the most innocent one right?" Dream said shivering.

Right?

Multiverse...

Stars darn it.. why did the multiverse only 4th wall break for Blue.

"Well then... I'm guessing you both need punishment," Blue giggled a bit insanely, voice glitching even more.

White bones shifted, Errors appeared around his body.

"Why aren't you running yet?" Blueberror smiled, voice fully glitched like Error now.

Only for a Taco to land in his hands.

Nightmare and Dream stared.

It was a fully cooked fresh taco.

"Oh! A Taco!" Blueberror said, and ate the Taco.

Magically he seemed to turn back into normal Blue.

"Your just not you when your hungry Blue," Error said, putting away his 'In case of Blueberror box' back into its magical hiatus.

"Thanks Error," Blue said all smiled and sparkles.

"Evil..." Nightmare whimpered.

"Soo... whats going on?" Blue asked putting his tray into magical space.

"Wait a minute," Blue said, eye lights blazing "Were you asking out my Error on a date!"

"Your Error?" Dream said faintly.

Nightmare looked ready to have an Error type crash.

"Of Course! We've been dating for years," Blue said happily.

"You did get the wedding invites right?" Error asked confused as he stood beside Blue.

"Wedding..." Dream said wild eyed.

"Invitations!" Nightmare squeaked.

"After all I don't share, Error's mine," Blue said with a wicked grin.

Error smiled happily.

Ink sulked in the bushes, everyone was having so much fun.

And they hadn't even invited him!

Him.. the Creator!

Why hadn't he gotten an invite to this drama yet, or even the wedding.

"Um... you got invited," a voice said.

"Don't I have any friends," he sniffed.

"Hello?" the voice said.

"He's totally not paying attention," a second voice said.

"Time to forth wall break!" the first said gleefully.

"We're already breaking it!" the second said.

"Time to join the party!" GumdropWolfYT gleefully shouted, as he picked up and Ink and threw him towards the other four skeletons.

ObsessiveFangorl facepalmed and dragged the other away, quickly closing the forth wall behind them.

"Ahhhhhh!" Ink shouted as he went flying

Crash

Fate held up a scoreboard with a 9 out of ten.

Error, Blue, Nightmare and Dream had slammed across the area from Ink who had suddenly bowled them over.

It was clearly a Ten Fate.

Fate?

Fine ignore me.

Hmph...

"Owwww," Blue said, he quickly got up and rushed to Error to press the 'Yes to Reboot' button.

"I see starrrs," Dream giggled clearly knocked over silly.

"I'm sooo done!" Nightmare said, opened a portal and left.

"Wait.. where did Ink go?" Blue said, looking for the resident soulless skeleton.

And Blinked when he spotted him.

"This.. is hilarious!" Reaper laughed taking pictures with his camera phone, he hadn't expected to come across Ink boi embedded into a hill side in a skeleton made crater.

Seconds made a dying sound.

"Hello Reaper!" Blue said happily, from beside the downed Error and Dream.

"Hey Blue, I see the moron was being a  moron again," Reaper said.

"Nah, just a badly patched forth breaking," Blue said cheerfully.

"So normal as usual then," Reaper cackled.

Suddenly Reaper paused, and stared.

“Is everything alright Error?” Blue asked, Error groaned and slowly got up.

“Geno..” Reaper whispered.

“Whoever Geno is, can take a number after this migraine,” Error said rubbing his skull.

“No, your Geno!” Reaper said shocked, his mate had vanished eons ago.

One minute there, the next nope.. cya later reality.

“I think I’d know if I was someone else,” Error said, after all Fate had said they’d created them from the anti-void.

Meanwhile Fate was trying to hide from Destiny’s glare.

“Yeah... you know what,” Reaper said with a smile.

“What what?” Blue asked bewildered.

Who was Geno?

“See ya, sorry you’ll have to cancel the wedding as I have I waifu to claim!” Reaper grinned, suddenly beside Error. He grabbed the destroyer who crashed, then both vanished.

“Get back with my Error!” Blue screamed going super sai.... I mean Blueberror and vanishing also.

Dream twitched.

Ink blinked and looked around wondering where everyone went.

If Reaper was anyone else, he’d be biting his fingers in frustration.

He’d found his Geno.

Geno so changed.

Geno.. who clearly didn’t remember him.

Yet... his soul pulsed, he could feel the link between them as soulmates.

What had broken Geno, his wonderful stubborn Geno.

Geno and himself, who had been discussing if they wanted children.

“Can you stop staring at me,” Error said grumpily, they were in Reapertale in Reapers home. Why Error hadn’t left yet, Reaper had bribed him with chocolate.

One of the things that apparently not changed between Error and his past self.

“Sorry... it’s just, I never figured out I’d find you this way,” Reaper said unhappily, after all how did one react to ones mate becoming the destroyer.

“As far as I know, Fate created me as Ink’s counterpart. I’m linked heavily to the Anti-void. If I’m gone to long, I’m pulled back. I don’t know how I can be your Geno,” Error said sipping a giant chocolate milkshake.

“Anyway, you can prove it?” another voice said, Reaper and Error blinked as suddenly as Blue was there eating a Taco at the table.

“How did you get here!” Reaper said shocked, only he himself and Grim should have been able to enter without an invite.

“Technically I’m an error a glitch in the system,” Blue chirped, his form shifting to his other self then back.

Right... Geno use to walk through security like it wasn’t there also.

“And what do you plan to do if you find out he is my waifu?” Reaper asked.

“Well Share him of course, Error is the only one I ever wanted. And at least your cute too, my glitchy error codes would protect me too,” Blue said wickedly.

Reaper and Error blushed heavily.

“Right,” Reaper said shakily... we have a few ways to do this.

“And?” Error asked, interested either way.

“TIME TRAVEL!” TK!Sans shouted appearing in a flash of time travel.

“Out! When I find out how you keep getting in with time magic this better stop!” Reaper said annoyed, stupid time kids.

“Oh! Look at the time. Gotta go!” the time tot said and vanished, leaving Reaper grumbling.

“You were saying?” Blue said giggling.

“I have a gem that sends us back in time, out of phase so no one can see us and we can’t change anything,” Reaper replied. “We go back, tag Geno as he’s taken and follow!”

“Why didn’t you use it in the past?” Error asked.

“You need three people to use it, and every time I get someone to agree they start arguing on where they should go first,” Reaper said dryly.

“Lets do this!” Blue cheered.

“Welp. Lets do this,” Reaper said, pulling a weird grey gem from a shelf.

“How does it work?” Error asked.

“Oh, were already there,” Reaper cackled, and all three of them faded away.

Fate sputtered as her toy vanished.

OoOoO

Three figures appeared with a Zomp sound.

Yes, a Zomp sound.

No were not going to describe it more.

Anyway...

“The world looks grey,” Error said looking around.

“And there is Geno, the day he vanished!” Reaper said pointing to a bloody glitchy skeleton.

“Does this have a speed up option?” Blue asked as Reaper tagged Geno.

“Sure,” Reaper said and slammed the gem into a tree.

“Cool!” Blue chirped as the world sped up.

Suddenly strings zoomed out of nowhere like a lasso yeeted Geno out of the area.

“Not my strings,” Error said, “looks like fates.”

“Right, lets follow!” Blue said, and they quickly followed the tag on Geno.

“The Anti-void!” Error said as they appeared in endless white.

“And there is Geno!” Reaper smirked.

“Hey you, Glitchy boi!” a voice yelled in the voice.

“Yeah you!” the voice yelled as Geno pointed at himself.

“I need a destroyer, you’ll do,” the voice said.

“That’s fate...” Error said dryly.

“Um.. no thanks, I kinda have to tell Reaper something important,” Geno said.

“Who said you got to say no?” Fate asked.

 Womp!

A giant hammer fell from nowhere and hit Geno, covering the area with a cloud somehow.

“Um...” Reaper said at the scene.

“...” Error said as the dust cleared.

“Now my minion! Do your job!” Fate cackled.

“Riiight... lets go home,” Blue said sweatdropping.

 BOIIIING

“What’s with the weird sounds it makes?” Blue asked.

“No clue,” Reaper said.

“...” Error said.

“Error honey?” Blue asked in concern.

And crashed and rebooted.

“That’s new,” Blue said as the reboot stopped at 99% with a new choice.

‘Download and install Original Data YES/NO’

Blue quickly pressed yes.

“Thank you for choosing The Origination Reincarnation Station, please sit back and relax” a gentle female voice said, then Error exploded.

“What the stars!” Reaper said as they were knocked back.

“Error!” Blue cried.

“And welcome back the migraine,” a voice said, a non glitchy voice.

“Geno babe!” Reaper said happily.

“I need to sit down,” Error.. no Geno said getting up, Reaper quickly helped his spouse to a chair.

“Are.. you still Error?” Blue asked worriedly.

“Yes...” Geno said.

“Good, just because you got your old body isn’t stopping my wedding to you two!” Blue said smugly, the married couple blushed.

“You had news for me... when you vanished,” Reaper asked softly.

“Ah..” Geno said blushing heavier.

“Ohhhh.....” Blue said giggling suddenly.

“I... was kind of pregnant when Fate grabbed me... and still am, now that this body was freed,” Geno said summoning his ecto body, which was quiet far along.

“How did we not notice!” Reaper said in shock.

 “            Well... I never summon my ecto body, and my glitched state hid any                  signs. Also.. I’m half dead and your Death,” Geno said dryly.      

Meanwhile Blue started having millions of baby thoughts, Error/Geno was a beautiful Skeleton in both forms. And the three of them would make adorable children, he wondered how long it would take to talk Reaper to get him knocked up too.

“Heh heh heh... Blue said lost in his own head.

“I’m sorry...” Geno whispered holding Reapers hand.

“For what, your alive,” Reaper gently said, he leaned forward and touched there foreheads together.

“But... I cheated on you as Error,” Geno cried.

 “Shhh... that doesn’t matter. You had no clue you were anything but what Fate said love. And I can see you truly love Blue too.. he’s not bad, and if that’s the price I pay for you I’ll pay it a million times,”            Reaper promised to his teary eyed love.      

 “It won’t be easy, I’m stil            l                   th                  e                   Destroyer. The Error,”                  Geno said.      

 “And I’m Death, Death and Destruction go together,”            Reaper smirked.      

“Idiot,” Geno said.

“And Blue can be the Chaos,” Reaper giggled.

“Crap...” Geno suddenly said.

“Whats wrong?” Blue asked, coming out of his daydreams.

“Well... Its time, guess the baby got tired of waiting eons to be born,” Geno said wincing.

 Thump

Reaper had left the building.

Okay fainted.

“Gahhh.... oh my stars!” Blue panicked and ran around like a headless chicken.

 Pow

And there was Blue meeting the wall.

 “            Why...” he cried through the pain.      

OoOoO

The sound of crying.

 “Take it easy, your magic will b            e                   over stressed for th                  e                   next few weeks,” a voice said, yes.. Sci’s voice.      

 “            I will, thank you for allowing me here,” Genos voice came.      

“No problem, was hilarious to see you rushing in using magic to carry Blue and Reaper,” Sci cackled.

 “The Baby!”            Reaper said coming fully awake.      

“Over here,” Geno said amused.

Apparently there were in at a hospital, Blue was just coming too.

“Reaper.. meet our son,” Geno said happily, held in his arms was a tiny Skeleton with one eye light typical to a sans type.

“He’s perfect,” he said raspy voiced in awe.

“What’s his name?” Blue asked wide eyed.

“I think his proud papa should choose,” Geno said.

“Goth, taking parts of both our names,” Reaper said happily, here he was gettinga happy ending.

Death and his glitch.

Death and Destruction.

With Chaos at the side.

“Hey Geno, next kids mine,” Blue smirked.

Geno sputtered.

Reaper laughed.

“You have quiet the future kiddo,” Reaper told the newborn.

He couldn’t wait to see it.

END

[emoboijk]

107 and 118 with hobiii!!! Pleasseee!!!💕

107. “Scoot over. I wanna sit next to you.” & 118. “Dogs don’t wear clothes!” —dog hybrid hobi x dog hybrid reader | drabble requests open

(I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be fluffy or nsfw so I just chose,,,both)(also sorry because i did not edit this) 

You don’t care what anybody says. Tiger King is good. 

You burrow further into the couch, cuddling beneath the blanket and twisting your tail so that it sits in your lap. One hand plays with the fur on it as the other presses play to start the show. 

You’re nearly through the entire season when Hobi comes in. You hear the gentle pings of the keypad outside your apartment and the whirring of the lock, and then his footsteps, pausing as he toes off his shoes before walking barefoot through the hallway. You can even hear the gentle swish of air from the steady wagging of his tail. 

“Hey babe,” he says, sliding the strap of his bag off his shoulder and putting it on the kitchen counter. Slowly, his tail lowers and dangles between his legs when he realizes you haven’t looked away from the screen. 

“Babe,” he tries again, crossing the apartment and nuzzling into your hair. He cranes his neck and noses at the scent gland beneath your ear to mark you like he always does when he comes home. 

You twist your head and reciprocate half-heartedly, mumbling a distracted, “Hey, how was work?” 

Now Hoseok’s tail is completely between his legs, lips twisting in concern. But an ear twitches when he hears: “That bitch Carole Baskin!” from the TV. He peeks up and squints at the screen for a moment. 

Oh, he thinks, that’s the show Tae was telling me about…

His eyes dart between you and the screen for another moment, just now realizing how distracted you are. “Yeah,” he says, testing the waters, “I got a face tattoo today. It just says puppy beneath my eye but I spelled it P-O-O-P-E-E. Great idea, right?” 

“Mhm, yeah,” you say without looking away. 

Hoseok crossing his arms, huffing, looking around the apartment as if something there will help him. Another minute passes before he sighs and gives up, retrieving his phone from his pocket and beginning to scroll as he walks to the bedroom to change. But his tail begins to gently swing as he comes up with an idea. 

Two minutes later, and Hoseok is ignoring the goosebumps that rise on his skin as he walks from the bedroom to the living room. He is not surprised to find you still huddled on the couch, watching the TV with an amazed expression. 

Grinning (and doing a playful little hip movement that causes his dick to swing around), he steps fully into the room. “Hey,” he says cheerily, anticipating the look of surprise you’ll have. He can already see the little O shaped mouth and raised eyebrows. His tail is wagging so hard he has to step forward so as not to knock the lamp off the table (he’s learned from last time). 

“Hey.” 

His expression falls, lips forming a resilient, frustrated line. He stamps his foot and still…nothing. 

Muttering to himself lowly he crosses the room to stand by the couch, expecting you to look up any moment now. Nothing. 

“Scoot over, I want to sit next to you,” Hobi says, only the slightest irritation in his voice since you still refuse to look over. 

You shuffle to the side, relinquishing half of your blanket when he shivers and says, “Ooh, cold." 

"Oh, uh, yeah, it's—” you start to say, pausing when you feel the bare skin of his hip squished in next to you. You finally glance over at him, jaw-dropping when you see your floppy-eared boyfriend manspreading beneath the blanket, shirtless. You rub your lips together, narrowing your eyes before saying, “Jung Hoseok, are you—?” In one swift motion, you tug the blanket back from both of your bodies, gasping when you come to realize that your boyfriend is completely nude. 

He’s pleased, a small smirk on his lips, the thumping of his tail against the couch a sign of his enthusiasm. 

“Hobi! Why aren’t you wearing any clothes!” Your eyes dart between his face and his family jewels. 

He shrugs and spreads himself comfortably across the couch, “Dogs don’t wear clothes." 

He leans into your neck, sniffing at your skin before licking it sloppily. His tongue moves sloppily over your neck and jaw before he presses huge slobbery kisses all over your face. 

You giggle at his antics, shoving him away slightly and patting his head. 

His fingers grip your waist and tug you to sit in his lap, your own little doggy tail wagging happily at the attention. He noses your scent gland again, rubbing against it almost harshly in his insistence. “Finally got you to look at me,” he pouts, lips dragging slowly across your skin. 

You flush as you realize how you’ve been neglecting him, “Sorry puppy,” you whisper, stroking behind his ears and leaning down to scent him, too. “How about I give you extra attention now? To make up for it?” 

(If you choose not to read the nsfw ending just know that the “extra attention” means lots of pets and cuddling and scenting and also making his favorite dinner and possibly making out)

optional nsfw for working ending below~

Already, Hobi’s cock grows stiff against your thigh and you can hear the slapping of his tail against the back of the couch from excitement. He emits a little high pitched whine from the back of his throat, a sound he only makes when he’s over the moon excited about something (so usually for concert tickets, bags of designer clothes, and just before having sex with you). 

You nudge his scent gland with your nose one more time before sinking your teeth into it. You don’t draw any blood but the stimulation alone causes his hips to jerk upward in a sloppy thrust. You make a similar whining sound when his desperate actions hit your clit through your sweats, causing you to keen prettily into his ear. 

You lean back, trying to find some composure, “Since you’re just a dog today…doggy style?” you grin. 

Again with the tail and the wagging. 

Hoseok bends you over the back of the couch and grips the base of your tail with one hand and massaging your ass with the other. He moves the hand to swipe through your folds, fingers reappearing covered in slick. That little whine makes another appearance and your tail twitches in his hand from want of wagging. 

He rubs the slick from base to tip of his cock, grunting as he pushes it into your tight heat. He squeezes at your tail, his tail swinging through the hair so rapidly it causes a bit of a breeze. He bottoms out inside you and stays still, leaning forward to lick comfortingly at your back. 

“Faster,” you whine, trying to force your ass forward and back on his cock but to no avail. 

Hoseok grunts again, kissing your shoulder and murmuring, “Sorry.” Then he releases your tail and grips your hips, snapping into you with impressive speed. Each thrust he pulls nearly all the way out before slamming back in, hitting your womb with precision so that you begin to see stars nearly immediately. 

You like doggy style a lot. You like it because, according to science, this position triggers the most base animalistic instincts of hybrids. Because animals nearly always mate like this, it’s been passed down in hybrid genes to go fucking nuts when in this position. 

And, for kind, caring, considerate dog hybrid Hoseok, that means he almost completely forgets about you. Forgets about you except as a cocksleeve, something he can thrust in and out of as roughly as he wants until he cums. And that turns you on to no end. 

So when he talks it’s not really to you. He just mutters about how tight it is and warm and soft. How good his cock feels and how he’s gonnacumgonnacumgonnacum. 

“Oh,” you moan, submitting to him in every way as he pounds into your pussy, falling over the back of the couch and letting him use you. “Oh, puppy,” you pant, gripping the couch cushions as he fucking destroys you from behind. 

You’re into your second orgasm when he finally cums, thrusting even as rope after rope of cum shoots into your cunt. His hips only slow when his balls are done twitching, slowly pull out of you with a lewd noise. 

You stay bent over the couch, biting your lip as you feel semen drip down your legs. 

And then, suddenly, animal instincts all but gone, your Hobi is back. 

“Ah! Oh, sorry!” he gushes, rushing across the room and returning with a towel. You stay bent over and let him gently wipe up the semen and pull up your sweatpants. When he’s finished he wraps your arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest, nuzzling and licking at your cheek. 

“Did you enjoy your treat?” you chuckle, “Mister dogs don’t wear clothes.” 

He chuckles and shrugs, “Hey, it worked.” 

(remember how this was supposed to be a drabble? and then it suddenly, poof, turned into a 1.5K…non-drabble lmao)

↠ random drabbles tag ↞

[complicatedandstained]

358 Nights: Poker Night

If it weren’t for Saïx’s schedules, the entire Organization would crumble. At least, according to Saïx. 

Overnight patrol duty is just one of many, many rotations assigned to each member each day. Its purported, primary goal: to protect the hallowed halls of the Castle That Never Was in the midnight hours. Its actual goal: to enforce curfew, so Saïx can get some shut eye. 

Once overnight patrol duty kicked off, it became quickly apparent which Organization members you don’t want to run into alone in a dark hallway in the middle of the night, and which you don’t mind so much.

Because Luxord has no interest in reporting anyone for being out of bed past curfew any night of the month—he is typically the best option. That is, provided you’re willing to go in on a little quid pro quo a.k.a. poker night a.k.a. buy Luxord a pint once a month and go in on a hand, or two, or twelve of dealer’s choice. 

And if it feels kind of like blackmail, well, Luxord’s not above that. 

Lately, poker nights have been held in the drafty back rooms of boozy pubs and disreputable inns on a messy little island called Tortuga. Frequented predominantly by pirates and smugglers, it’s the kind of place where nobody asks a Nobody too many questions and everyone’s too blitzed to remember a face. So, it’s the kind of place the Organization likes to be.  

The original plan had been to periodically switch up locations, but that was a pain in the ass because nobody ever portaled in at the same time and someone was always going to the wrong place and waiting around for a half hour, then getting pissy about it—which was fine when it was Demyx, but less fine when it was Xigbar. 

So, lately, poker nights have been held at Gibbs’ place—Gibbs being a graying old sailor bearing a kind, round face and fluffy white beard with high sideburns and a ponytail. 

They like Gibbs well enough. The pub owner’s the solid, reliable sort, with a lively, certain cadence to his voice—always ready to hear or tell a good story, sing a sea shanty, or call for another round.

And, yeah, maybe Gibbs has been getting a little too familiar with the lot of them. And, yeah, maybe he asks way too many questions. But, despite his claims to a former career in piracy under the service of Captains Barbossa and Sparrow—not to mention the Royal Navy—he’s, generally speaking, harmless as a slice of cold cheese pizza. 

Most importantly, he gives them complimentary beer bread if they don’t start a brawl in the first half hour of coming around. So, they let ‘im slide. 

Xigbar’s the first one in. He likes to be. More time to get the lay of the land and drink in peace. Outside of that Cuddly Duckling joint in Corona—the one with all the fucking, god-awful, pitchy flash mob song and dance numbers—Tortuga’s among the only places he can travel where he can walk up to a bar and take a seat without turning the heads of everyone in the joint.  

The tables and booths of Gibb’s pub are pleasantly crowded as usual, accordion music drifting through shouts and tipsy conversation. Xigbar’s got half a stein down before Gibbs notices him. A couple more gulps before Gibbs works up the nerve to approach, false cheer marked with frozen dimples. “Why, Sniper, me lad, you’re early!” 

“Yeah.” Xigbar chuckles into the foam of his drink. “Thank the Lord.”

“Ah, crews be like families,” Gibbs reasons in his infinite wisdom, borne of the sea salt breeze, “and we all fancy a break from the family every now and ag’in, I always say.”  

Xigbar rolls his eyes but nods. 

Gibbs glances around the room for more of Xigbar’s usual company, but doesn’t spot them. “Haven’t gotten a table for your crew o’ thirteen together yet, but I—”

“Don’t bother.” Xigbar interrupts with a quick slash of his hand. “We ain’t expecting much of a crowd tonight.” 

Gibbs’ brows go up, finding something in Xigbar’s tone rather ominous, but before he can ask, the door to his pub swings open, near off its hinge, and brings with it a jaunty gust of guitar music and a lanky blond. 

Said blond strums and sings like the sound’s possessing him, sashaying in with fast, certain steps, each synced with the rhythm of his next note. The tune reminds Xigbar of a soft rock ballad, entirely out of place in this world, though the pretty young women hanging on Demyx’s arms, swaying their hips, don’t seem to mind. 

“And after all~ You’re my wonderwall~”

Xigbar chokes, the ale burning his throat and nose. The nearby patrons of the pub nod and sway along. Feet start to stamp as Demyx twirls and plays, steps light, and the women on his arms whirl, their skirts billowing and their giggles airy.

“You’re my wonderwall~”

Xigbar sighs, sparing the ruckus over his shoulder the briefest of glares before plunking down his drink. “Dumb little shit…” 

“Now, wait just a—” Gibbs’ grin at the music dims as Xigbar eases onto his feet, but Gibbs doesn’t dare make a grab for his arm.  

Xigbar ignores the objection and strolls up to Demyx with heavy, confident steps. He claps his gloved hands together, slow and out of beat with the song, and Demyx stops dancing to turn his way. 

The young women retreat behind Demyx’s lanky height as the large, muscular man draws nearer, but Demyx remains where he is—rather idiotically, in the opinion of the spectators—only a foot out of the doorway, strumming in challenge, an easy grin on his face. 

“I said maybe~ You’re gonna be the one that saves me~ Because after all—” 

No more than a foot apart, Xigbar stops clapping and Demyx stops playing. 

And probably, Xigbar figures, he should give Demyx a hard time, but on the other hand, it is his night off. 

Xigbar sets a hand on Demyx’s shoulder, the rigid line of his mouth twitching just enough for Demyx’s eyes to catch. “Why you always gotta make a fucking scene, kid?”

“Psh.” Demyx tilts his head, a strand of hair flipping into his eye, and grins up at the scarred, muscled man, strums another chord, swishes his hips. “You liked it.” 

Demyx’s fangirls shriek as Xigbar moves in on Demyx, but the shrieks muffle and abruptly die as they watch the scarred, older man crush their mouths together. Demyx grin brightens, guitar shifting behind his back, body molding to Xigbar’s like water. 

People shout, jeer, laugh, and in the distance, after a few hesitant squawks, the accordion starts up again.

Their mouths break just long enough for Demyx to manage, “Now who’s making a scene?” 

And Xigbar to counter, “It’s your own fucking fault,” before scooping him up by the ass and pressing their lips together again. 

A throat clears loudly beside them, and Xigbar maneuvers them closer to the bar to another round of catcalls. 

The throat clearing follows them, punctuated by an, “Um, Sniper, sir?”

Xigbar sets Demyx up on the bar, lifting his drink and turning around. He petrifies the pub owner not with his golden, one-eyed stare or the slosh of his tankard, but with the murderous smirk he follows it up with. “Yes, Gibbs?”

Gibbs swallows, motions a bit loosely with his hand, then eventually just nods over his shoulder. At a corner table amid the bustle, Luxord sits alone, silver-backed cards fanned out in one hand and a brimming mug of amber grog in the other. He raises the cards in their direction. 

Xigbar salutes back, then turns to pat Demyx’s cheek though he’s pouting something fierce. “Game time.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Demyx complains, sliding off the counter in resignation. He starts thrumming “Luck Be a Lady Tonight” as Xigbar signals the bartender for another couple drinks. “Game time.”

Together they make their way to the card table. 

[insolxntprince]

Drabble || Family Marks.

Unbeknown to the children, Zuko was stood just around the corner. He had been concerned after having heard what had unmistakably been a shout from his daughter but had halted when he noted the actual content of the argument, realizing it was no more than a petty children’s bicker between Izumi and two other boys. And it was a rather amusing one at that, almost endearing.

“I’m going to tell my dad about everything you’ve said. And I’ll tell him you stole the mochi from the kitchen yesterday.” Izumi said, stamping her foot in an unfathomable rage.

“So what?” One of the boys said, “We’re not scared. Besides, you ate some too.” 

“Not as much as you did!”

“You still ate some though.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway.” The third child piped up. “You can’t touch us.”

Izumi scowled, “How so?”

“Because my dad’s an Admiral.” 

“Yeah, well my dad’s the Firelord.”

Izumi folded her arms and stuck out her tongue, knowing for a fact that she couldn’t be beaten on that one. The other kids bristled.

“Yeah well-... your dad has a weird face!”

That wiped the smile right off Zuko’s face. As soon as the words hit him, he panicked. He wasn’t hurt or angered by careless words from children; he wouldn’t expect people of such young years to understand. However, it had never even crossed his mind that Izumi could be enduring taunts and petty persecution for his disfigurement.

“What?” Izumi burst out. 

“Yeah, your dad’s weird.” The other boy said, “He looks creepy!”

It was a lame comeback, one they probably didn’t even mean but it seemed to invoke a less childish and more genuine rage in the young Princess. The sound of crackling fire paired with the shrieking of children caused Zuko to dart from around the corner.

“Izumi! Put that out, this instant!!!”

He grabbed Izumi by the wrists and the flames immediately dissipated.

“How many times do I have to tell you?! We do not use fire recklessly! Ever.”

Zuko scooped his daughter off the ground and gave the two boys a stern look, both of whom were pale from what had just happened.

“Kids, go home to your family’s right now.” 

They were both all too eager to obey.

~⚜~

“Izumi, what were you thinking?” Zuko said firmly, setting his daughter down on her bed, “You know you should never use firebinding recklessly, especially not at your age; you shouldn’t be using anywhere other than in the dojo. 

“But, dad-!” 

“Look, you’ve scorched your hair- and you’ve burned yourself!”

“They were saying mean things!” 

“It doesn’t matter, you can’t just go throwing fire at absolutely everyone just because they say something you don’t like. You could really hurt someone, yourself included. Come on, let me see your hands.” 

He examined Izumi’s inflamed palms. “Honestly,” he said, moving to the dressing table to cut open a leaf from the aloe vera plant, “will there ever come a day when you listen???”

He’d had the plants dotted around various places in the palace for incidents such as this and they had proved a lifesaver, particularly now that there were hot-tempered, firebending kids around.

“Here, this will bring the swelling down.” He said and rubbed the leaf sap over Izumi’s palms. But Izumi sat in silence, refusing eye contact and pouting angrily.

Zuko sighed.

“Izumi,” He said, softening his tone, “you don’t need to be angry. I know I look a little different from most dads but that’s not your battle to fight. I will seem a little strange to some children and you can’t afford to get upset every time one of them mentions it. If I did that, I’d be holding a grudge with half the world by now.”

“But they were saying horrible things about you! Things that aren’t true.”

“They were saying those things because you bested them and they wanted to get under your skin.” Zuko said with a grin, “And by letting it work, you’re letting them win. Don’t give them what they what.”

Izumi huffed indignantly. 

“Now, praise be to the spirits that these burns aren’t serious.” Zuko continued and began wrapping them in some soft bandages. “They should be all healed up in a couple of weeks. You were very lucky.” He emphasised, “But everyone’s luck runs out eventually, which is why if any of your friend's mention this again, I need you to just walk away, alright?”

“But dad-”

“I’ll let their parents know what happened and they can explain to them why it was wrong. When they grow up a bit, they’ll come to understand.”

“Well, they should grow up faster.” She said, stubbornly folding her arms.

“Izumi, promise me?” 

She scowled begrudgingly and let out a sigh, “Fine. Promise.” A pause, “But dad?” 

“Yes?”

“What if a grown-up says horrible things about you?”

“Grown-ups should better. So if that happens, tell me immediately and I’ll gladly go whip them into shape!” 

They both got a giggle out of that.

“There. All done.” Zuko said, tying off the bandages.

Izumi finally smiled and leaned forward to hug her father, “Much better. Thank you.”

Zuko smiled, happy that was all over with and gladly leaned in the hug, “You be more careful next time, alright?” 

“I promise. I’m sorry, dad. Love you.”

“Love you too. Now, let's see if we can fix that hair.” He said and let down Izumi’s topknot. 

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“Why is your face like that?”

Zuko faltered for a moment. That wasn’t the first that question had come up and he supposed it was only a matter of time before it came up again.

“Sweetheart, we’ve talked about this.”

“No we haven’t, not properly.”

“The Firelord before me was a very mean man.” He said simply.

Izumi’s brows knotted together. That was the same answer she had been given before and it didn’t shed light on any of her questions.

“But wasn’t he your daddy?” 

Zuko sighed, “Honey, your grandpa Iroh was my dad in every way that was important, just as he is your grandpa.” 

“I know, but...he was still kind of your dad, wasn’t he? So why did he do that? And how?”

Zuko gave a smile, a look that was almost apologetic as he leaned forward to place a kiss on Izumi’s forehead.

“I’ll tell you when you're older.” He said softly, “Now,” He took some scissors from the drawer, sat behind Izumi and began trimming the scorched ends of her hair, 

“What’s this about stealing mochi from the kitchen?”

[madpanda75]

I have one for Sonny too if that's ok? “Shut up and kiss me already.” Love that talkative daddy long legs. 😅Thank you!

I’m with you, love me some Sonny! That sweet sexy bean pole does things to me! Thanks for the request, I hope you like it ❤️ Also I believe it is canon that Sonny Carisi loves games (especially Twister 😉)

“Classroom Kisses”

The first grade students at P.S.19 quietly read in their seats while you were writing out math problems on the board. You sighed, slightly shaking your head when a small familiar voice cut through the silence. Without even looking, you already knew who was disrupting the class.

“Dominick,” you turned around and crossed your arms, a stern look on your face. “This is quiet reading time.”

The blue eyed boy looked up at you sheepishly, “Sorry, Ms. Y/L/N, I was just telling Caroline a joke.

“Save it for recess, Dominick,” you said before turning back to the board. Unfortunately, Dominick didn’t save his joke for recess. For the remainder of the day, the little boy continued to talk, trying to get the attention of his classmates. You had scolded Dominick more times than you could count. In a way you almost felt sorry for him. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself from talking.

Dominick was a handful, but you had a soft spot in your heart for the little boy. He was bright and incredibly sweet, one of your favorite students. He just couldn’t stop talking.

After school, the two of you sat in your classroom working on an art project while waiting for the little boy’s mom to pick him up. You smiled, watching as he painted a rainbow on poster board, “You’re a good artist, Dom!”

The little boy beamed at your compliment, “Thanks, art’s my favorite subject!”

“Mine too,” you replied, painting a fluffy white cloud next to his rainbow. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. Looking up, you saw a tall handsome man with the cutest dimples you had ever seen.

“Uncle Sonny!” Dominick exclaimed, running to the older man.

Sonny gave Dominick a high five, “Hey, little man! What’s up? Ya’ have a good day at school?”

“Yep! The best! I got to help Ms. Y/L/N with her art project!” Dominick took his uncle by the hand, pulling him over to you. “Ms. Y/L/N, this is my Uncle Sonny!”

Sonny’s heart skipped a beat when he saw you. He had heard his nephew talk about his favorite teacher, but he had no idea how beautiful you were.

“The famous Uncle Sonny. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you said with a smile.

“Likewise, Dominick talks about ya’ all the time. I hope it’s ok that I’m picking him up, his mom had to work an extra shift.”

“That’s fine, Mr.?”

“Carisi, but please call me, Sonny,” he replied.

“Only if you call me, Y/N,” you shook his hand, drinking in his bright blue eyes and sweet smile.

He leaned in, studying your face. “You..uh…got some paint on your forehead,” he said, motioning to a spot on his own head.

“Oh, I do?” You touched your forehead, trying to wipe off the paint, but only making it worse.

He bit back a laugh, reaching into his jacket for a handkerchief, “May I?”

“Thanks,” you bit your lip and blushed as he cupped your face with one hand while gently wiping the paint off.

Dominick looked between his uncle and teacher, “Are you two gonna kiss?”

“Dominick!” You and Sonny both said at the same time, catching each other’s eye and laughing.

“Dominick, why don’t you go to the restroom and clean the paint brushes for me,” you ruffled his hair a bit, handing him the dirty brushes.

Sonny chuckled to himself, watching his little nephew walk into the bathroom, “He’s a character.”

You nodded your head, “Dominick is a great student, but he’s a social butterfly, talks a bit too much in class.”

Sonny walked over and helped you put the paints away, “I was the same way when I was his age. Always talking. I mean I could just talk and talk and talk. My ma says I was worse than my sisters. Every report card I got always said the same thing, Dominick Carisi Jr. is a smart boy but chats too much in class.” He stopped talking and rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed when he realized he was rambling on. “Looks like I’m still a talker.”

You giggled, “Must be family trait.”

“All done!” Dominick came running back into the classroom, handing you the clean brushes, looking expectantly at his uncle. “Can we go home now?”

“Sure thing, pal. You’re driving right?” Sonny teased.

“Uncle Sonny, you’re silly!” The little boy ran out the room. “Meet you at the car!”

“Wait for me, Dom!” Sonny called out before turning back to you. “It was nice to meet ya’, Y/N. Hope to see ya’ around sometime.”

“Well, now you know where to find me,” you winked at him, sitting back at your desk.

Over the next few weeks, Sonny began picking up his nephew more and more. You didn’t mind one bit. Apart from being sweet and gorgeous, you and Sonny really hit it off, becoming good friends.

Even if Dominick’s mom would pick him up from school, Sonny would still stop by with a cup of coffee or a donut, just to talk. You would tell him about all the crazy antics his nephew or another student tried to pull on you that day. His line of work was always dark and depressing. Visiting you was an escape for him.

One day you asked if Sonny wouldn’t mind stopping by after school to help you put up some decorations for Saint Patrick’s Day. Every month you would choose a theme, transforming your room into a whole other world for your students. The kids loved it, but decorating an entire classroom was a big job for one person to do alone.  

Sonny was happy to help. He strode into the room, pizza box in hand watching as you stood on your tiptoes on top of your desk, struggling to hang up a fluffy cotton ball cloud from the ceiling, “Hey, be careful up there.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve done this a million times,” you replied, hanging a pot of gold next to the cloud. “Thanks for helping me with this. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Sonny set the pizza box down on a nearby desk. He cleared his throat, unable to look away as your skirt rode up, revealing your shapely legs. “I brought pizza from that place you were telling me about.”

“You went to Lombardi’s?!” You turned towards him, momentarily forgetting where you were standing. One misstep and you were falling to the floor. Sonny was quick to action, moving to catch you in his arms.

You both stared at each other for a moment, a flush creeping up on your face, “Betcha haven’t met a girl who would tumble to her death just for a slice of pizza,” you mumbled.

“You’d be surprised,” he smirked, setting you down on your feet. “Almost forgot, I brought ya’ this,” he opened a bag, holding out a shiny red apple.

You quirked an eyebrow at him, “Are you trying to be teacher’s pet?”

“Maybe,” he winked at you before looking at the assortment of decorations on your desk. “Tell ya’ what. Why don’t we eat and then you can leave the ceiling decorations to the tall guy,” he rolled up his sleeves and hung up a green shamrock with ease.

After pizza, you and Sonny continued to decorate your classroom. By the time you finished, the place looked like a lush green fairyland, covered in clouds, rainbows, and pots of gold. Sonny half expected a leprechaun to leap out of a desk. “Wow,” he whistled, taking in the state of the room. “This place looks amazing. Wish my teachers did stuff like this when I was in school.”

“Thanks! It’s a win-win. I love arts and crafts and the kids flip when they see the room like this,” you stamped the last of your leprechaun footprints with green paint as Sonny walked around the room, surveying all the books and games you had. Some of them he remembered from when he was a kid. A smirk tugged at his lips when one game in particular caught his eye.

“Hey, Y/N, what do ya’ think?” He asked, holding up Twister. “Up for a little fun?”

You sauntered over to him, a playful expression on your face, “Hmm, you sure you’re up for that, my long limbed friend? I am the Twister champion around here.”

Sonny scoffed, “Do not underestimate these long limbs.” He leaned in closer to you, “I can move in ways you’ve never seen.”

A shiver shot down your spine at his words. Narrowing your eyes, you looked between the game and Sonny, “You’re on. I hope you’re prepared to lose.” You grabbed the game to begin setting up as he pushed some chairs out of the way.

By the fourth spin, you and Sonny were a tangle of limbs, your hands and feet all over the mat, looking like one giant human pretzel.

“Sonny…stop making me laugh! I’m trying to concentrate!” You gasped between fits of giggles.

“Sorry, doll,” he laughed.

You stretched and reached for the spinner, the board instructing you to move left hand, green. “Ok, how am, I going to do this,” you said to yourself, looking around the mat for a free green space within reach. Biting your lip in concentration, you leaned closer to Sonny, your arm snaking under his. “Aha! I did it!” You exclaimed.

“It’s…ummm…it’s your turn,” you murmured, glancing down at his bubblegum pink lips. You tried to maintain your position even though the scent of his cologne and his crystal blue eyes were causing you to lose your focus on the game.

With your free foot, you pushed the spinner towards him. Sonny got a left foot, blue. He let out a deep breath, slowly inching his foot around your leg so he could hit his spot. Stretched out his leg, he moved even closer to you until his foot landed on a blue spot.

“Y/N?” He stared into your eyes, your noses practically brushed up against each other.

“Sonny,” you whispered, no longer caring about the game. All you wanted in that moment was his mouth on yours.

“It’s your turn,” he licked his lips, eyes darting down to your cherry red pout.

“Sonny?” You interjected again, but he wasn’t listening.

“Can ya’….uh.. reach the spinner or do ya’ need help reaching it. Cause I can uhhh….get it for ya’ or I can just say a color or something. There has to be some rule for when only two people play and can’t reach the spinner,” he nervously rambled on.

“Sonny!”

“Yeah, doll,” his eyes locked with yours, your bodies entwined, breaths mingling as your chest rose and fell rapidly.

“Shut up and kiss me already,” you softly said.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he craned his neck, “I can do that.” His lips softly brushed up against yours, kissing you slow and sweet. His tongue tentatively moved against your own. Your legs and arms were shaking from holding such an awkward position, but you didn’t care. You moaned, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, so caught up in Sonny and his tender touch, that you lost your balance and fell, taking him down with you.

You both laughed, his body perched on top of yours. “Wait, so does that mean I won?” He chuckled.

“No! You distracted me, Sonny Carisi!” You smacked him on the shoulder. “That game was a draw.”

“Wanna have a rematch?” He said in a husky voice, running a hand through your hair.

“I’m game,” you tugged on his tie, bringing his mouth back to yours. He kissed you with such passion, it took your breath away. You wrapped your arms around his neck, gently nipping on his bottom lip when you heard someone clear their throat. Turning your head, you saw your coworker, Tony, standing in the doorway.

“Sorry! Just wanted to stop by and see if you needed help with your room but it looks like you got it covered,” Tony blushed, quickly scampering away, leaving you and Sonny alone again.

“That was embarrassing,” you cringed and covered your face.

“Yeah, guess we shouldn’t be making out in the middle of a first grade classroom,” he sat up, offering his hand to help you to your feet as you both put your shoes back on. “I should get going but I would like to take ya’ out on a date. Maybe Saturday night?”

“I’d love that. After all I owe you a rematch in Twister,” your hand found his as he pulled you into another feverish kiss. “You’re a good kisser,” you whispered against his lips, teasingly darting your tongue in his mouth.

“So are you,” he purred. Since your first meeting, Sonny had often wondered what it would be like to kiss you. Now standing there, your lips locked with his, it was better than he ever could have imagined. You were luscious and sweet, intoxicating to him. He kissed you all the way to the door, blindly bumping into desks, until finally letting you go. “Have fun tomorrow. Hopefully Dom will keep the chatter down.”

You snorted a laugh, “From your lips to God’s ears.” He smiled, cupping your face and kissing you one last time before leaving.

You put the game away, moving back to your desk to pack up your things. Your coworker slyly poked his head back into your room, “So does your friend have a brother?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Good night, Tony! I’ll fill you in tomorrow at lunch.”

“You better!” He sang down the hallway.

Finally alone in your room, you leaned back in your chair. Spying the red apple, you smiled to yourself, your lips tingling. If Sonny’s kisses were any indication, then you were going to have an incredible date.

@amirightcounsellor @obfuscateyummy @beltzboys2015-blog @southern-magnolia @letty-o @sweetsummertime99 @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @burningsorr0ws @katmstanton @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @riodallas @eclecticminded @delia26 @glimmerglittergirl @sweetcannolicarisi @babypink224221 @livxrafa