#putting slashes to avoid it going into tags

[kodachromantic]

i know g4g is so dead but i still to this day believe there was something there that was scrapped/purposefully not going to be touched. bo/ok of bi/ll seems like The Place to where something like that would be revealed/hinted at, obviously i know it's not but if it were real and had a shot at being revealed in some way it would be in there. i need to get it in general but i know there's going to be a little nostril in my head sniffing for a delusional crumb

[killuaisaprincess]

Everyone always whines and cries how everyone ignores G//on

AND IF YOU DARE TO BRING UP KIS TRAMUA THEY ARE LIKE BUT WHAT ABOUT G

What about g KIS FANS ARE ANNOYING THEY SAY

Omg WHAT ABOUT G

MEANWHILE BACK WHEN I WAS ON A BLOCKING SPREE ALL I EVER SEE IS ANALYSIS POSTS ECT ABOUT G G AND HIM AND HIS TRAMUA AND THE BOTH TOGETHER MAYBE BUT KI ALONE MAYBE 1

SO I DO NOT EVEN WANNA HEAR IT

AND LET KI FANS CARE ABOUT KI

JUST LIKE U CARE ABOUT G

Stg these people wanna act like Ki’s life is so easy and CAA wasn’t hard on Ki CUZ WHAT ABOUT G

[gutsby]

Easy to Please

Pairing: Sleazy Landlord!Joel x Reader

Summary: Months pass, and you can’t make rent—again. You find another way to pay your sleazy landlord. Again.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Oral (m!receiving). Dubcon à la power imbalance / sex for money. Infidelity. Pervy!Joel. Talks of abuse. Omitting one tag to avoid spoiling the ending—please read at your own risk.

Note: This fic was loosely inspired by my three favorite songs about female adultery—‘Thinkin’ Bout Cheatin’ by Mae Estes, ‘Lyin’ Eyes’ by The Eagles, and ‘Cheatin’ Songs’ by Midland. No, I don’t support infidelity. Yes, it makes for fun fiction.

Word count: 3.1k

You hate the face he makes when he cums.

You hate the way he tastes when he’s done.

You hate the grit and the heft of the man, every lone hair that sprouts silver from his chest, and the way he pats the open space beside him in bed after you roll away.

‘Never seen a girl so goddamn allergic to cuddling!’

What makes his observation worse is that you know you’re hating it more and more with every passing day.

Today you have seven Benjamins, two Grants, and a Jackson tucked into your purse. You walk with a sluggish gait, knowing you’re $310 short of making this month’s rent and last. But you go on anyway. It’s not like Joel can’t see you from where he’s seated on the porch.

The pleasantries you exchange are short. By now, you have only to breeze past him in his lawn chair and say, ‘I can’t stay long,’ and he knows the rest. He grabs his six-pack, then his Pall Malls, and asks after you all the same.

“How’s the wrist?” he says.

You sprained it over the weekend. You aren’t sure how he heard. At any rate, you ignore the question and set your bag down on the counter before going to the fridge. You deflect with a question of your own—what the hell happened to the lemonade? He had a full jug last week.

“Got thirsty,” Joel answers, shrugging.

You’re always thirsty, you tell him, and you eye the case of Heineken that he’s placed by your purse. You don’t need to see his face to feel the smile starting to form.

“Don’t I know it,” he says. Insinuating.

You’d hit him over the head if you’d been able to reach. He’s still smiling when your shoulder checks his—closer to his elbow, from the feel of it—and when you leave the kitchen, he leaves too. He trails behind you with an ease that says this is the sixth time this has happened since August, and you’re hardly a week out from Halloween.

It’s not just rent you need to pay; it’s other things. Transmission in your truck’s gone to shit. Phone’s been on the fritz since you dropped it in the tub. Talking heads on TV say the country’s on track to get hit with another recession, and from the way your boss has been slashing your hours in half, you think they may be right. The crack in your bathroom window was tiny last week. Today it’s gone, because your husband put his fist through the thing on Sunday. You patched the hole with duct tape.

Joel’s covering the cost for the pane to be replaced, but that’s because he has to. He’s your landlord—proud owner of the Delta Commons trailer park since ‘97—and that’s what landlords do. Everything else is yours to pay.

You’re a part-time student, part-time waitress, and a full-time caretaker for your ailing spouse, or so you call him. Joel knows Stetson’s not sick, just perennially unemployed and drunk. You pay for most things, and it’s rarely enough to cover your rent. Stetson doesn’t care.

And that’s where Joel comes in.

No pun intended, but in his mind, there’s really no nicer way to say it: you fuck his brains out to make up for the shortfall in rent. You blow him before work to make sure your husband and you will have enough to eat that week. You bite the warm, freckled skin between his shoulder and his neck while you ride him, because you know that gesture will get you a little extra cash when you leave. You smile after swallowing him, and Joel knows that it tastes like shit. You’ve gotten good at faking it lately.

What he hopes isn’t totally fabricated is the way you call him big. Strong. Handsome. So stupidly well-endowed that you have to wince for the first few seconds when you sit on it, and go slow when he takes you from behind

“O-ow!” you whine presently.

His dick isn’t even in you yet. You just stubbed your toe on the edge of his dresser on your way to the bathroom.

“You alright?”

“Fuck me!”

I will, he thinks.

“Want me to get an ice—”

“Let go-OW! FUCK!”

Joel barely even touched your wrist and you were flinching away with a brand new pain. You rub it, almost defensively, then pin him with an icy glare. Nice going.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

Now he’ll be lucky if he can swing a half-hearted handy from the one that isn’t hurt. That’s how mad you look.

You turn your body away, and for a second, Joel assumes that his fate has been sealed: you’ll bumble over to the rug by his bed, toss a pillow on the floor, and assume what he already knows to be your least favorite position. You’ll kneel, and talk of migraines and your long, grueling day and in the end find an excuse not to use your mouth. That’ll be okay. But with the debts you owe him now, it also won’t be enough, and Joel will have to ask you back again. He hates sounding needy, but baby, deal’s a deal.

Luckily you don’t give him the chance to use that line. Much to his surprise, you get on the bed. You lie down. You seem to take a little more care settling in this time, but you take off your clothes. It’s a lime green tank top and some ratty jean skirt, but it’s enough to tempt him.

And not just tempt, but oblige him to accept, unblinking. He crawls over the bed to get to you, and he finds that his spit’s filling his mouth a little quicker. His hands are starting to shake as they slide over the duvet, and the tree trunks he once called his legs are runny, like eggs.

He has to remind himself, bluntly, of your last name, the shiny ring on your hand, your husband’s name, your—

“Age—what’d you say your age was again?” Joel asks.

You look confused for a second, but you tell him.

“Twenty-one.”

Way too fucking young to have gotten hitched three years ago. But then he remembers this is Leakey, Texas, and your family hasn’t strayed more than ten miles from the center of town in four generations. You told him that.

“I thought you said twenty,” Joel says, a little uneasy.

“I did. Up until this past Sunday I was.”

“Oh.”

A beat.

“Happy birthday.”

You blink.

“You gonna take your pants off or what?”

And he does. Maybe embarrassed at first, but then the jeans come off, and his boxers go next, and without so much as a word or a breath, his worries are sliding away like water off his back. Like his clothes now peeling off.

Like your smile growing thin at the sight of him half-stripped on the bed in front of you. Joel doesn’t flatter himself to think he’s even half as handsome as he was in his youth, but he knows he has his draws. What endears him to you today is, unfortunately, his wallet. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be convinced to like him more.

More than Stetson, he thinks without humor.

Dumb son of a bitch can’t tell his ass from his elbow and yet he’s won himself you, living it up these last three y—

“Oh.”

He sounds like an owl now. His clothes are off, and you’re rubbing him, pumping him gently in your hand, which you were so kind to make wet with your saliva. It even sounds better than his, the way it squelches with every flick. Joel can only say so much in strangled breaths.

He tries anyway:

“Feel like a dream, sweet pea.”

Sweet pea.

Your pace quickens. Joel swears he can see the corners of your lips twitch, but then he thinks you’re just wincing. You move down to the floor beside the bed. Kneel almost politely while you nestle yourself between his parted legs

Your mouth is warm. It’s always warm. Joel wouldn’t expect a girl’s tongue to greet his dick like ice, but yours is always heated to a thousand degrees, it feels like. He enjoys the sting. Your lips envelop his big, leaking tip, and he swears he can stay like this forever—in you.

On you, too. He’s got his palm resting flat on your head, and he doesn’t mean to, but he pushes. He bunches your hair in a fist and drags your face to make you swallow.

Mean old man, you must be saying in your head when he stuffs your mouth full. Makes your eyes prick with tears.

Sweet girl. My sweet pea, he thinks, affectionately, and continues to rub your scalp. He holds your teary gaze.

And then you’re moving up. Down. Coating his length with shiny spit and tiny whimpers as your lips move gently back and forth, again and again. Joel’s grip tightens in your hair, and he begs for more. More.

“More,” he orders, jaw clenched, “Fit a little more’a me.”

From where you’re kneeling below, you look put off.

Then you pull off, and you wipe your wet chin.

“Chokin’ me,” you grumble, “‘S’too big.”

Normally, Joel loves to hear that.

Now, however, he’s sliding his touch to your chin and tilting your head up to him. Thumbing at the spit dribbling out on either side of your mouth and subsequently coaxing your lips further apart.

He slides back in, and you don’t fight it. You like it. Holding his gaze in a soft, docile look while your lips stretch deliciously around his shaft, you must love it. Every inch and every twinge of pleasure from the brush of his cock going in and out must be your favorite thing.

Joel hopes it is, anyway. He holds your face now, and your throat convulses involuntarily. You’re so pretty.

“Such a good, sweet girl, ain’t ya?” he presses, watching the coarse grey hairs at the base of him tickle your face.

You respond well to praise. You preen under those words, and try to nod. But his cock is so deep down your throat you end up choking again. Joel watches all of it smiling.

Petting your head and not pushing again. Grinning.

“Love my cock nice and stuffed in that pretty throat?”

You blink instead of nodding, but it’s more than enough.

“Love me deep?”

And the head of him sinks somewhere he’s never been. Your eyes are like two wide pools, and your lips leak everywhere—your chin, your cheeks, your neck.

Joel’s smearing it all with his palm and smiling so wide that he thinks he might pull a muscle. He pants heavily.

“Just what you’re made for. Just what you need.”

You look like you might agree. He keeps going.

“My fuckin’ mouth. My pretty, pretty mouth.”

He holds your face. He thinks he might cum.

“Ain’t a damn thing Stetson can do for this mouth, huh?”

And then he doesn’t. Joel barely blinks, and you’re already bucking your head out of his hold, mouth skittering away while the spit spills out. You’re practically drenched down to the chest when your face rears back. Your eyes are alight and no longer smiling when you grit:

“Don’t.”

Joel should’ve known better.

He’s hit a raw nerve, and now he really wishes he hadn’t.

It doesn’t stop there—but it doesn’t get better, either. Things progress in much the same way as they always have but with none of the need, or the warmth, of before. You climb back up and straddle him quick. Not meeting his eye, you just sit down, and slide down, and don’t wince at all. You don’t tell him that he’s big, and he doesn’t get the chance to even groan at the first influx of pleasure before you’re riding him. Bouncing and grinding your hips against his with all the passion of someone perusing the newspaper. You don’t whimper or moan.

Of course, Joel enjoys the feeling. He also wants someone to punch him in the throat for what he’s done.

“Hey, hon—” he starts, voice strained, “Hon, I’m sorr—”

“Shut up,” you snap.

Your movements hardly falter, and now your hand is seizing the headboard. You’re clenching him tight inside your wet, drooling cunt, and it’s obvious you’re trying to make him cum as quickly as possible. You swallow hard.

Joel isn’t sure what to do. On the one hand, his body is being flooded with pleasure, and on the other, he fears you may never do this with him again. Quickly fixing on the latter, he cups your face in one hand. It’s still wet.

His fingers smear the spit, and somehow you look even prettier. You keep grinding your body in desperate little fits above him, and really, you feel fucking amazing, but Joel is too focused on other thoughts. He squeezes you.

“Baby—” he tries again, but you shush him just as fast.

Your hips are moving viciously now. No matter how sore your legs might have been from a long day toiling away—just a couple hours before your shift at your next job, if Joel’s remembering correctly—you’re working him well. Doing him in. Fucking his brains out, but you aren’t his.

His fingers smear the spit even more. Never will be his.

“Sweet pea—”

“Don’t fucking call me that!”

Now he can’t deny that his climax is close. But this isn’t how he wanted it to end—with you so incensed you can hardly look him in the eye. His hand rubs more, helpless.

And just when he’s seconds away from painting your insides white, losing it all to the pleasure, he sees it.

His wet, sticky touch has uncovered a residue.

Joel pulls his fingers away in a blink, and simultaneously, your eyes are fluttering closed. You’re focused now on climax; because of that, you don’t see what he sees.

What he’s stunned to find on his fingers: makeup.

Lots and lots of thick, heavy makeup on your cheeks. Concealer, he thinks he’s heard it called once or twice.

No matter the name, he quickly comes to see what it’s for. Just as you’re hitting your peak, squeezing the headboard behind him, and coming undone with a shockwave trembling all through your body, Joel pales.

The makeup that you applied so heavy tonight hides bruises. Black and blue and awful hues of greenish-purple too, your whole face, he sees, is engulfed.

He doesn’t speak. He won’t ask.

He won’t cum tonight, either.

He’ll finish something else.

You leave Joel’s trailer angry. You don’t say goodbye. The screen door screams shut behind you when you leave, and silently, you wonder why he didn’t cum. For once, you wish he had—and hadn’t said half of what he did.

Six hours pass like molasses, and by the end of it all—the close of your second shift—Stetson’s name still echoes in your head. The way Joel said it. It hums along the walls of your skull while you walk, and as you draw closer to home, you remember that strange and infuriating tone.

Then you remember your own less than two months ago:

Don’t talk to my husband. Don’t talk about my husband.

They were two simple rules, and Joel broke them both.

He must’ve defied the first when paying a visit to make repairs that week, and that’s when Stetson mentioned your hand: how you ‘slipped’ in the bath. Tripped and conveniently sprained your wrist the same night he almost tore your arm out of the socket for looking at a waiter a tad too long at dinner. You’d bet any sum of money Joel didn’t get to hear that part from Stetson when he came over to see about the window, though.

No, your twenty-first came and went without so much as a word about your wrist. Your arm. Your face—used to getting caked with concealer every third week or so.

You wince as you open the door. You walk slowly.

At first, you’re met with silence, and you sigh with relief. Then you hear it, and shortly drop your purse to the floor.

You all but fall down yourself at the sight: your husband doubled over across from you, in the kitchen. His head in his hands. You don’t need to see the face to know that it’s bleeding. Profusely. You tread ever slower into the room, thinking somehow, some way he’s going to blame this on you. And when he straightens a little and shows off the full, gruesome extent of his injuries, you blanch to think that it might be. His body’s been beaten to a pulp.

Your pulse hammers in your head so loud you can’t hear him groan. You see him, but you don’t really believe it.

And when Stetson reaches for you, you stagger back.

Your hands skim the counter, but your brain barely registers it. Your husband’s calling to you now, ‘Quit standin’ there lookin’ stupid, do somethin’, huh?!’ He’s screaming, and you’re not hearing it. Barely feeling like a sentient person at all but just a doll stumbling backward on two wooden legs. As you walk, your palm stays stuck to the laminate underneath it, and suddenly, you feel it.

An envelope.

In this state, you aren’t sure why you grab it, but you do.

You take the lone white paper, and you turn to leave. Your hands shake as you hold the thing, and your legs are hardly any better, but they carry you, miraculously, from the kitchen to the threshold of the back door. Then out. Stetson’s not just yelling but bellowing, loud, every last obscenity known to man as he holds his bloodied side and limps in his perilous, pathetic way. Fortunately, you’re gone just in time to miss the bottle he hurls.

Outside, you walk. And walk. And in the still of the night you’re obliged to find your way through a miscellany of trailers and trucks and old, creaking vans by moonlight, and the throbbing in your head begins to slow. You don’t rush to get far, and you don’t have your keys even if you wanted to drive off. You keep walking. Watching nothing.

When your eyes drift to the envelope in your hand, you barely see that either. You’re just blinking as you look, and breathing as you wait for the sight to make sense.

Inside, you find seven Benjamins, two Grants, and a Jackson staring back. Next to them are a few dozen others—enough to cover August, September, October, and several months before that, if you had to guess.

You hope you’ll get the opportunity to thank Joel, and maybe tell him that you don’t really hate him, someday.

[2knightt]

CANT HOLD IT IN ANY LONGER!!! i’m utterly obsessed with the curtis brothers.

idk if u do this, but if u can, the curtis brothers with a reader who’s super down bad for them? they make it so clear, too. constantly doing everything for them, making food, buying snacks, just utterly everything. compliments, holding their hand religiously … yk.

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ you know i’m a fool for you. ⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! you think the curtis brothers are the only men on the planet.

tags/warnings: swearing(on my end/once during dialogue.) reader being slightly overprotective or insane, mentions of reader getting hit on, mentions of reader leaving lip stick stains, me not knowing what to write for darry.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i’m using ny other accounts layout bc i can’t be bothered rn. also i’m here to feed y’all i’ve noticed the outsiders x reader tag is lowkey dry asl.

Ponyboy Curtis:

WOAH HE CAN’T HANDLE ALLAT😭

like actually. he is TWEAKING AT ALL TIMES! when you first like started complimenting him, showering him in kisses, giggling n’ shit—he thought it was a one time thing.

ponyboy just thought he’d have to thug that shit out once a week or something. he was, in-fact, pleasantly surprised when you continued to do it.

“you’re so-mwah-cute! i wish-mwah-i could-mwah-hold you forever!”

“y/n…😣”

he’s so flustered omfg like actually he’s beet red LMFAOOO. if you were to put your fingers to his forehead it’d be so hot. like ponyboy’s avoiding eye contact, his lips are tightened, etc.

if he were to stay the night at your place—you make him all types of food. like, food he’d never heard of. or food he’d dream about after eating bologna for a week,

“for me? …really?”

“mhm! c’mon, don’t let it get cold now.”

ponyboy is DIGGING RIGHT THE FUCK IN. okay he is SCARFING THAT DOWN. after he’d be a little embarrassed of how quickly he ate but like you just took it as a good thing.

thinks you’re the best cook ever tbh. gordan ramsey has nothing on you type levels.

going on a walk with him to go grocery shopping for the curtis house with your hands intertwined and letting ponyboy ramble about this annoying substitute he had!!! IT’S REAL!!! ALL OF IT!!!

“n’ then he tried to tell me my answer was wrong when i studied last night—I EVEN ASKED MY FRIENDS. so, i know it was right. i just think mr. johnson had a personal vendetta against me.”

“smh…i could do slash his tires if you’d like♡!”

“what”

“nothing.”

AWHHH PONYBOY FOLLOWING YOU AROUND THE STORE LIKE A LOST PUPPY BECAUSE HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO BUY LMFAO

he’d like holding your sleeve or the hem of your shirt as you walk around, looking more awkward above all else.

uwahh showering ponyboy in compliments late at night when it’s just the two of you, twirling his hair as you hold him closer!!!

“you’re hair is so pretty. it’s so soft…i dunno why you put grease in it. if i was you—i’d never let anyone touch it.”

“i don’t. i only let you.”

“…REALLY??🥰🥰😚😚”

ur friends are soooo sick of you talking about ponyboy LMFAOOOO like actually. every time you go, ‘omfg did i tell you guys, he-‘ they know to just let you mindlessly ramble.

“and then ponyboy read to me ‘til i fell asleep! he’s so sweet—i dunno how he’s real!”

“i dunno how you’re so whipped.”

“he must be the funniest motherfucker on the planet if y/n’s this obsessed.”

Sodapop Curtis

OHHH Y’ALL ARE AT A CONSTANT WAR TO SEE WHO’S GONNA BEAT THE OTHER AT BEING THE BETTER PARTNER LMFAOOO

HE’S usually the whipped one in the relationship…he felt both extremely lucky and threatened when you started attacking him with kisses…

“you’re so handsome. i’m just the luckiest person on earth—ain’t i?”

“…yeah…🤨”

“why’d you say it like that?😞”

“cause I’M the luckiest person on the earth…I’M supposed to be tellin’ you this…”

but as time goes on—he does take the loss and accepts you’re better at him. for now. it’s only a matter of seconds until sodapop thinks of something insane to show his love for you.

anyways! IMAGINE COOKING WITH HIM OHHHH NY GODDDDD /?:&$:&: he just mainly stands there and looks pretty as he asks what you’re doing but SHHH. HE’S MORAL SUPPORT.

“…what?”

“i’m chopping onions for the flavour, honey.”

“you don’t like onions, though?”

“i don’t like the crunch rather than the flavou—YOU REMEMBERED I DON’T LIKE ONIONS??☹️☹️”

“of course i would!”

gladly holds ur hand 24/7. i’m not kidding. you two are like super magnets. HEHEHE IMAGINE HIM DRIVING WITH ONE HAND ON THE WHEEL AND HIS OTHER HAND HOLDING YOURS!!/!2!

you do take him grocery shopping. only sometimes, though. he only buys junk food rather than actual food.

“can i get these? please?”

“you already have two bags of chips in the cart, soda.”

“okay..😣”

“SIGH…get them.”

“HURRAY!”

knows you can’t say no to him and that’s like the only time he uses it to his advantage.

soc’s do hit on you under the premise of ‘showing you how a real man is supposed to spoil a lady like you.’ HOWEVER, you look at them like they’re aliens.

“hey, baby. what’re you doin’ around here?”

“…EW.”

“???”

they’re shocked above all else as they see you turn away from them and quickly walk away without looking back. AND WOOO SODA IS SO PROUD.

Darry Curtis

the gang acts like you two are constantly fighting whenever you start to look at darry with that sparkle in your eyes.

“guys, PLEASE! YOU’RE BREAKING UP THE FAMILY! STOP ARGUING!”

“what the hell are you on about, soda?”

“you’re scaring pony!” “don’t bring me into this.”

“mind you’re own business, soda.”

AJDIEHJR DARRY HAVING A HAND AROUND YOUR WAIST AS YOU MUTTER SWEET NOTHINGS BETWEEN KISSINGS>>>

you two are a POWER COUPLE IN THE GROCERY STORE! EVEN IF YOU REFUSE TO LET HIM PAY AND HE GETS POUTTY! EVEN IF HE DOESN’T TAKE COMPLIMENTS WELL!

“y/n, please. these are for my house.”

“so?? my wallet was out first.”

“that doesn’t mean anything. baby, i’m telling you, i’m paying.”

“too late, i already handed the cashier the money.”

you cook and clean for the curtis’ to take something off of darry’s back out of the kindness in your heart and totally not because you want him to pay more attention to you!! NEVER!!

but you do enjoy the fact that darry has more time to sit down and pay attention to you! and darry really likes the extra time he has!!

“you didn’t have to.”

“yes i did! you’ve been so stressed out, it’s the least i could do for you.”

“you’re such a treat, y’know.”

“mh. only f’you.”

you FORCE him to hold your hand. sometimes he forgets that he’s supposed to hold your hand in public so do NOT BE AFRAID TO GRAB IT YOURSELF.

but once you do, darry is the last person to let go. maybe to wrap an arm around your hip—BUT THAT’S IT.

teehee leaving lipstick stains on his white t-shirt accidentally🫶🫶!! it’s all so real to me!! sure, darry’s a little annoyed but it’s okay! he can never be mad at you!

[leighsartworks216]

A Waltz Of Blades And Blood

Sylus x gn!Reader

I'm not happy with it but I'm so tired of trying to get it to work the way I want it to

Based on this post

Warnings: sparring/fighting, blood, injuries, minor knifeplay, mild/implied sexual content, kissing, no smut

Word Count: 1,235 (so close 😭)

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form (Psst fill this out to be tagged in fics)

Sylus doesn’t immediately enter the ring when you go to train today. Instead, you watch as he goes to a weapon rack against the wall and grabs out a couple of knives. He’s smirking at your wide-eyed look as he holds one by the blade for you to take.

“We’re using knives today?” You take it and turn it over in your hand. It feels strange in your grip. You’d trained with guns, swords, claymores, even with a bow, but never had you dealt with a knife like this. The blade gleams threateningly in the overhead lighting.

“Not everyone is going to try shooting you in a tough situation,” he says. He lifts the rope and climbs onto the stage. You follow behind. “If, say, a mugger tries to threaten you and steal your money, you should know how to defend yourself.”

He holds his hands up in a fighting stance. You quirk an eyebrow at him. “Shouldn’t you be teaching me how to disarm first, if that’s your concern?”

He smirks. “A kitten should know how to use its claws first.”

You frown as you mimic his stance. It’s the same one used for the boxing regime he put you through, only altered by your hold on the knife.

“Try to stab me.”

You huff. You know you won’t be able to, but the idea of drawing blood with these is… unsettling, at best. Your only solace is found in the knowledge that he can heal himself.

You try to slash at his arm, but he steps to the side and pushes your wrist away, creating an opening to strike at your chest. His knife stops before it can pierce you, resting sideways against your stomach, with the flat side against your workout shirt.

“Not bad, kitten. Follow through every motion. If your knife gets stuck because you don’t keep up the momentum, you’ll be vulnerable to attacks until you get it back.”

The subsequent training sessions go much the same way. He deflects or avoids your attack, taps you where you’d be hit in such an instance, and gives you advice. You manage to get a cut or two in, but he wipes the blood away and the mark is gone entirely. When you do, he’s quick to praise you, pushing aside how shitty it makes you feel in favor of encouraging you to catch him again.

-

The next day, he grabs the knives again. “You did well yesterday, kitten. Let’s up the stakes, shall we?” He plays with the knife in his hand as you get up on the stage. “No more training wheels. A real sparring match.”

You look down over the ropes at him like he’s crazy. “First person stabbed loses?”

“What’s the matter?” He walks up to the ropes, smirking up at you with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Afraid of getting scratched?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “How about first person to get pinned down loses? Our internal organs are at less personal risk that way.”

He chuckles. “Alright, I accept.”

-

The fight isn’t easy. You both land blows on each other, punching and slicing to defend and take down. Your arms mirror his, covered in knicks and cuts. You have a cut on your right cheek, where you’d stabbed him during your first encounter with the big boss of the N109 Zone.

It’s like a dance. You strike, he blocks. He strikes, you dodge. Blood litters the floor. Glittering little droplets that smear as you step over them. A captivating waltz of blades and blood. He could easily overpower you and force you to the ground, but it’s like he’s toying with you, playing a game to see if you can figure out how to use his weak spots against him. And you’re determined to win.

You strike and he grabs your arm, using the momentum to swing it back at you. You block it with your other arm, both of your faces close as you try to keep the knife away from your neck.

You shove against him hard, enough to create a small gap. You hook your ankle around his and pull his leg out from under him, almost turning his body into a lever, with his core as the fulcrum. He doesn’t let go of you as he falls back onto the ground.

Heavy panting fills the air as the dance comes to a still. You straddle his hips, leaning over him as you pin his shoulder to the ground. Both of your blades are against the other’s throat. You can feel the cold steel brush against your flushed skin, the sharp edge teasing the idea of breaking flesh as you swallow.

He smiles up at you, but his eyes can’t seem to stay on yours for long. They trail along your cheek, watching the blood that drips down to your jaw. His hand gently ghosts the edge of the knife along your skin to catch the stray drop. Then his eyes find their way to your mouth. They’re hypnotized by your parted lips as you try to catch your breath.

His knife leaves your skin. It clatters to the side. But you feel his hand as he drags it along your bleeding arm to hold your wrist, keeping you from removing the blade from his own throat. You can feel your weight shift as he flips you, kneeling between your legs with the knife still held against his neck. His other hand is by your head, holding himself up.

He leans down against the knife. You try to pull it away, but his hand tightens slightly around your wrist, keeping it in place. His face is mere centimeters away. You can feel his breath ghosting your face as you stare up at him.

“So close, kitten…” he whispers. His lips hover just above yours. Your breath hitches in your throat. He smirks. “We didn’t agree on a prize for the winner… but I think you’ll agree to these terms.”

He kisses you deeply, nose pressing against your cheek as he claims his prize. The knife sinks into the skin at his neck. A rivulet of blood slides down the flat of the blade and drips against your skin. You gasp at the sensation as the droplets slither down the side of your neck, leaving chills in its wake.

Sylus swallows the sound eagerly, growling into your mouth in return as he finally releases your wrist. The knife clatters to the side as carelessly with the other one. You grab the back of his neck and pull him in closer. Still holding himself up, his free hand finds yours and interlaces your fingers together against the floor.

When it feels like you can’t breathe anymore, like all the air from your lungs has been sucked out and your ribs ache, he begins kissing along your cheek. You hiss when his lips seek out the cut. He follows the old trail of blood to your jaw, lips becoming pink as he kisses it away.

You tilt your chin up by pure instinct as he moves lower, kissing along the right side of your neck, before making his way to the left side. His hot tongue glides suddenly along your throat, cleaning his blood off of you. When he speaks, it’s with his lips pressed to your skin.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetie.”

[dyaz-stories]

you took the words right out of my mouth || Kim Yeong-Hu x Reader

word count: 1k

warnings & tags: mostly sweet and fluffy, implied sex but nothing explicit, just harmless flirtation

A/N: For @neohumanmonster's Born in Blood prompt! I don't know if I'll post the other prompts right away because I don't want to burn myself out, so I hope you'll enjoy that one in the meantime!

“You do realize that there are two doctors in here, right?” you ask as you enter the room, not bothering to greet the man sitting on the examination table.

Sergeant Kim Young Hu’s eyes follow you as you walk to the sink to wash your hands. Around his bicep, a makeshift bandage seeped with red. By the looks of it, it isn’t the worst state you’ve seen him in.

“I’m not letting that lunatic touch me,” he answers, his voice calm, as it usually is, and you roll your eyes.

You’d be lying if you said you were a fan of Dr. Lim. You already had your issues with the man when you both worked for the government, before this all started. Once the Outbreak had begun, it had taken you forty-eight hours as his assistant before you had requested to start working out in the field. You’re well-aware of his shortcomings.

Unfortunately, and it stings to admit it, he’s one of the most competent doctors you’ve ever met. He’d be more than able to take care of the Sergeant.

“You do realize I have other things to do, right?”

“And I am deeply sorry to have taken you away from your fifth grade biology lessons.”

…Okay, he has a point. Finally done with your thorough handwashing — it’s not nearly as sanitizing as you’d like it to be, but it’s not like there’s a lot more you can do —, you come to stand in front of him.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask as you start undoing the bandage. At least working with the military means that the men all know what they’re doing in terms of first-aid.

“Could be worse. I think I just need stitches.”

You’d trust him, if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve heard him say that about injuries that could have been fatal, had you not been there. In this case, though, you’re relieved to see it does look mostly fine. Whatever attacked him slashed through him, deep enough to be concerning but without actually damaging the muscle or hitting an important artery.

“What happened here?”

“One of the guys tried to take something from a monster,” the Sergeant Kim replies flatly. “I intervened.”

“Oh, it’s good it didn’t turn out worse, then?”

“Not really,” he says with a shrug. “The monster wasn’t violent until disturbed. This could have easily been avoided.”

“Sounds like your boys need a stern talking-to.”

While talking, you go fetch what you need. At least you’ve got everything required for something like stitching someone up, which you can’t say about most other ailments.

“I’ll handle that,” the Sergeant answers from behind you, and you smile. He exudes this quiet strength that you cannot help but be impressed by. His men would follow him to the end of the world and back, if he asked, and you can see why.

“Alright, well, you know the drill,” you tell him, coming back in front of him. “Think you’ll be okay?”

It’s silly to ask, with how often you’ve had to patch him or his men up. You’re well aware of his resistance to pain. Nonetheless, your training requires you ask, even if it’s no surprise when he nods in answer.

“Just go for it.”

You make quick and easy work of the wound. You focus on being fast and efficient rather than on lessening the pain, which you know is for the best with him. It’s not long before you’re setting your tools back down, done with your work. There are a few seconds during which the Sergeant takes the time to relax his jaw, to breathe in a couple of times, and then he nods at you.

“All done?” he asks.

“You’ll need to come back here so I can check on it,” you say. “And try not to put any strain yourself with that arm for a couple days, alright?”

He nods, but you don’t put much faith in that. As a soldier, you’d think he’d be good at following orders and, to be fair, you’ve heard he did an outstanding job most of the time. Unfortunately, your recommendations seemed to fall into deaf ears more often than not.

“Is that all?”

“Sure,” you say, even if his nonchalance exhausts you. “Hope I don’t see you here again for a good while.”

This, at least, brings a smile to his lips, and you try your best to suppress your shiver. He gets up from the table, and stands up, just inches from you. He’s so close, his torso almost brushes against your chest.

“Is that so, Doc?”

Damn that man.

“You know, if you keep this up, I’ll end up thinking you’re landing yourself in here on purpose,” you say.

The smile turns more amused.

“I would never endanger myself on purpose,” he tells you with disarming honesty. “But I’d be lying if I said I minded this kind of flesh wounds all that much these days.”

And before you can tell him just what you think of that, of course, he leans in to capture your lips. It’s not the first time. It doesn’t look like it will be the last time. And you’re in one of the very few rooms in the stadium that can actually lock.

Fuck it, you decide, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. It doesn’t matter why the two of you play that game together, the people you shared a past with and that are long gone, the fact that this relationship was built on blood. What matters is that in his arms, for however long you get to have him, you forget that the world is doomed.

If him coming back for more over and over again is any indication, so does he.

hope you liked this, it's a little sillier than what i've written for the fandom so far, so that was fun to play with. i don't know if i'll write for other soldiers because most of them... didn't leave me much of an impression as far as their personality goes, but i tried something for sergeant kim ^-^ please consider leaving a comment or reblogging if you're enjoying my writing, interactions are what keep me motivated to write for a fandom!

more writing for sweet home

[kaciebello]

Sibling rivals, sibling allies

Masterlist

Nico Di Angelo x Hades! reader (platonic) Summary: Nico was aware his sibling loved him, to the point that lectures were inevitable. Warning: Angst, Siblings written by an only child, no use of y/n Author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I am not very good at angst so I hope I did this some justice. I also tried to make it gender-neutral as the request did not specify, however, this is my first time writing like that so I am sorry if I missed anything. All right to the artist of the fanart, I could not find them, but if you do, let me know and I will tag them.  Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) request: Yes word count: 1,3k Song: Lean on - Major Lazer ( ft. MØ, DJ Snake )

 Sibling rivalry was something everyone expected when having more than one child. And who especially expected it were the Greek gods. They even encouraged it. Sadly, for Hades, his children got along and refused to fight each other.

Usually, Nico would play mythomagic with them or just lazily exist in the camp. Only a few people would talk to him. But he is used to it now. That's why he was confused when they ran into the Hades cabin and suggested training with said two. He agreed nonetheless, not wanting to disappoint his last older sibling, and he also thought Percy was okay-ish.

That is why he was standing in the area, watching them absolutely beat Percy's ass. Annabeth was standing beside him but did not look very happy about what was happening. He can't blame her, he would not be either if the roles were reversed. Also, the Hades children weren't really known for their good temper, so it made sense.

So when Percy tapped out, he wasn't surprised. However, the girl next to him made her way to help her friend up.

“Close your mouth, flies gonna take it as an invite.” They said, slightly tapping his chin to close it. Nico glared at them but did not argue. they were covered in sweat and breathing heavily. Nico was sure it was from the sun, not the fight, as he dubs Percy would give it much. If anything they more likely only tickled each other with swords. Although he was warned, that activity can cause accidental stab wounds and immediate visit to the infirmary.

The other two campers joined them. Percy bleeding from his scratches and Annabeth frowns on her face. He knew it was his turn now. That's what they agreed on. He did not think putting him, a child of one of the 3, against Annabeth was fair. Granted, were it a few months back when he thought he had a crush on her, before releasing he had a crush on Percy, it would have been harder to fight her.

“Come on whip, it's our turn.” Says Annabeth and gestures her knives at him. Nico can only tighten his hold on the sword he was holding. He takes a few steps to face her.

“Annabeth.” Sounds behind him warningly. The girl in question just huffs before charging at him. He moved out of the way, but it was like she already knew his steps before him and stuck him in the leg.

He winced but kept on his feet. She charges again, but this time he manages to avoid and block her from sighting him. Annabeth did not like that. Not only she was a fast thinker, but Nico would also forget she had been trained by Luke, one of the best swordsmen in the last couple of hundred years. Annabeth strikes again and Nico has no time to even register what is going on. She slashes his Achilles. Nico yelps and falls, having no strength to put weight on his leg. Annabeth manages to get hold of his sword. She was not standing above him with the tip of his sword at his throat.

“Get up,” she says with a sinister smile. He won't admit it but he was scared for a moment. That was before Annabeth got slammed by his sibling and rolled away. Percy yelped in surprise and went to help Annabeth while the siblings helped each other. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Argued Annabeth once she regained her composure.

“You immobilized him! What the fuck do you mean get up!” His sibling yelled still kneeling next to him. Nico has sat up now, trying to move his leg but when pain shot up he decided against it.

“Monsters are not gonna hold back just because he can't stand!” Annabeth was now making her way to them. Percy was trying to stop her but was very unsuccessful.

“Monster my ass Annabeth. You knew very well what-” A roar cuts her off. All of them freeze in their spots. A rustling in the trees got their attention. A distant yell is what got them moving. Nico felt four arms lifting him.

His sibling and Annabeth were trying their best to get his limping ass away from whatever there was. Percy was surveying the area when he saw it.

“Fuck.” Was all that left him. there stood, an automatic bull, as big as the house. All of their eyes widened as they tried to hurry up. unfortunately, the bull has seen them and charged at them. Nico could feel his weight bearing but only on Annabeth as his sibling went to aid Percy in trying to distract the beast. He wanted to stop them, but he was no use at the moment.

Annabeth stops and props Nico on a tree.

“What are you doing?” He hisses and she just rolls her eyes.

“I'm going to help them.” She says making sure Nico is comfortable.

“You can't leave me here.” Nico could see that she took that as a challenge. before she could leave him however they both heard Percy yell. turning their attention to him they can see a giant boulder heading their way. Nico makes eye contact with his sibling before he feels something tackling him on the ground.

“NICO” Was all he heard before the world became black.

 When Nico came to his senses, he thought that perhaps, Dad pulled him aside, that maybe travelledow travelled. And Brehabs a small hope of seeing Bianca was there. However, when he heard his sibling absolutely destroying their vocal cords from the yelling, he knew he was mistaken.

Opening his eyes, above him stood a well-known Apollo kid, his name was Will or something like that. The light from his hands makes Nico turn his face away and to the side. Only to be faced with a comic view. Annabeth sitting on a bed having her hand looked after by a different Apollo kid. Percy is next to her, holding her other hand. And his sibling, going off on both of them, mostly Annabeth by the looks of it.  Annabeth's head was hung low, it was apparent that she got an earful from Percy beforehand.

Nico is enjoying the situation. Not only is he not getting reprimanded, but he is also getting taken care of by a cute guy. His freedom is shored, however, as Percy nudges the other Hades kid and points to him.

His sibling turns to him at lightning speed, when they see he's awake, they rush to him kneeling by the bed. He can see they are worried even when all of them are out of immediate danger. When they saw he was okay they jumped in for a hug. Will jumped back startled and Nico could only groan in pain. Letting him go just as quickly as they hugged him

“Sorry, I just. I just thought I would have to bargain with Dad.” They say with a smile on their face. Although tears were streaming down their faces making them look a little bit hysterical.

Nico smiled at them.

“I'm fine, I did not even see Dad.” He says, trying to reassure them that he in fact did not die and came back. They just chuckled and nodded.

They all sat in silence for a few minutes before Annabeth with Percy walked up to his bed.

“I'm sorry.” She says. Nico expected her to continue but she didn't. So Nico just nodded, taking in that they were all still startled by what happened.

Next to him, his sibling stood up. It was like a switch turned in in them. Manually they made both Percy and Annabeth sit down at the end of his bed. They took a deep breath before starting.

“I am lost for words!...”

And despite being lost for words, they continue to yell at them for the next 45 minutes. Nico would not want it any other way.

Tag: thefallensacrifice

[4m1rz]

Reminiscing tutor

StayC Isa X Male Reader

Tags: old friend Isa, daddy kink, blowjob, creampie

"Don't forget to use protection." Your housemate, Dohyeok teases.

"Yah, it's just a tutor session, not a date you moron." You argue. You prepared all of the stuff that you need for the tutoring session.

You, Yang Kibum, are in your last year at your university, High Up University. You are also the top student in academics and sports in the university. Everyone in the university, including students and lecturers, respects you because of your diligence and kindness and most students make you their role model.

It was last Wednesday that Dr. Kang, your Maths lecturer, told you that there's a student in the third year who is failing badly in that course. In order to overcome that, he puts the person in a tutor session for that course with you.

You, without a doubt, agree to do that tutor session. But when you ask him who'll you be tutoring, things start to go awkward for you.

Cause it's your old best friend's slash crush, Lee Chaeyoung or mostly known as Isa.

You and Isa have been the closest of friends since you were eight and she was six. Even though you two have a two years difference, it didn't stop both of you from doing things together back then. You even called her 'Chaey' back then which she finds cute and suitable for her.

As time goes by, you grow up into a fine man while she grows up into a gorgeous woman, almost angellike. At this point, you have developed a crush on her and hope that you two become a couple. However, you noticed that she's attracted to lots of handsome boys at the university. This makes you believe that she deserves someone better than you, which causes you to avoid her, and things get distant between the two of you.

Somehow, this tutoring session reunites both of you. You wonder how she'll react when you'll be her tutor. Also, you do feel odd about why she wants a tutor on the course that she always aced. Anyhow, you prepared yourself for your upcoming tutor session with Isa.

Fast forward to today, you are going to her place for the tutoring session. Apparently, she lives in an apartment near the university all by herself. Well, you don't care too much and go to the address that you got from Dr. Kang last week. 

As you reached the front of her apartment unit, you rang the doorbell and waited for her to come open the door. You feel nervous all of a sudden since this is the first time you two meet after all of your attempts to avoid her.

Seconds later, the door opens and it reveals the person who's in your mind at the moment. She's wearing a white crop tank with white pants with butterfly-like holes at the front. This makes her look ethereal and sexy at the same time.

"Oh oppa, you've arrived. Come inside." She says. With that, you enter her apartment and sit on the sofa in her living room.

 "Wow, you sure did have a nice and comfy apartment here, Isa." You try to make a conversation with her. "Yes indeed, oppa." She replied.

"So, can we start the tutoring session? Where do you want to do it and which topic do you want me to teach you?" You ask. "Yes, in my bedroom, oppa. Could you teach me trigonometry, oppa?" She replied. It's quite reasonable that she didn't quite get the topic because it's the hardest topic in the course for her semester. You also had problems with the topic back then.

Then, both of you go to her bedroom and she sits in front of her studying table while you sit next to her. And with that, you two begin the tutoring session by you helping her to understand trigonometry.

After twenty-five minutes, you tell her to rest for a while before you resume it later. She then goes out and when she re-enters, she brings some snacks for you. She invites you to eat in which you accept.

"So oppa, we hadn't hung out like when we were kids. How's your life so far, oppa?" She asks. "Yeah, I guess so. My life is just like my normal routine. I guess you know my routine, right Chaey-." You mentally slapped yourself when you called her the old nickname that you used to call back then.

 "Oppa, you haven't forgotten the nickname you used to call me back then. It's okay oppa, please use it, I like it." She tries to assure you that it's fine calling her by her old nickname. You mumbled quietly to yourself. 'Well, if that's what she says, you might just go with it then.'

She then asks you the things that bring back a lot of memories between the two of you, in which you tried to reply to every single one of them. However, things started to go a bit awkward when she started to ask the reason why you were so distant from her in the first place.

"Oppa, could you please tell me the truth about why you have been ignoring me since back then?" She tries to get the answers from you, while you are being shy to tell her. You tried so hard not to tell her about it until she showed you her pleading look, eyes wide open like you would see Puss in Boots did in the movie 'Shrek' as well as her lips pouting. You know that this is her secret weapon when she wants something, especially from you.

At this rate, you couldn't resist her looks as you began to tell her. "A-Alright, I will tell you the reason for that. Gosh, you really have to do that, don't you Chaey." She then giggles and waits for you to tell her about it. "Hehe, works like a charm. I knew you wouldn't resist my pleading look. So, can you tell me why you are distant from me, oppa?"

To be honest, you still feel hesitant to tell her about it but you try to push the hesitation aside and try to tell her anyway. "W-Well, we were very close back then. We would do things together, I'm sure you know what we did when we were younger. I would consider you my best friend and my little sister. B-But when we grow up, I could feel my adoration towards you is more than just a friend or a sister, in fact, I have developed a crush on you. Yeah, that's right, I'm in love with you Chaey. But, I guess you deserve someone better than me, that's why I try to distance myself from you."

After you tell the reason, she just sits quietly which makes the situation become awkward between the two of you. "Chaey, you okay? If you have nothing to say, I guess I'll-." Suddenly, she pulls you into a hug and you notice she's crying because you feel something wet on your right shoulder. "Oh oppa, y-you are such a pabo. I-I also like you too oppa. I-I thought I'm the one that has a feeling towards you, but instead you also have feelings towards me. Don't you ever keep something like this from me from now on, okay oppa?"

You pulled yourself from the hug to face her and nodded. "Don't worry Chaey, I won't keep any secrets from you from now on." You look at her while she looks at you, both with full adoration. Suddenly, she leans towards you and pecks your lips. Before she could back her head from you, you grip her nape and pull her towards your lips for another kiss.

 Kisses by kisses, it then turned into a make-out session. Both of your hands are roaming all around her body as well as hers all around your body. Without detaching lips from each other, you two get up from the studying table and get towards the bed.

Once you both reach the corner of the bed, you both dive into the mattress with you on top of her. You both continue kissing each other until you both retract your lips and end the make-out session when you both feel the loss of air. "Are you sure you want to continue this, Chaey?" You asked and then she replied. "Yes, I'm sure. Don't worry, I've prepared for this, daddy~."

 You almost choked when you heard that word coming out of her mouth. However, your mind commands you to just follow the flow. "It looks like my little Chaey has a daddy kink, huh? Such a naughty girl for daddy, aren't you?" She just rolled her eyes teasingly and pulled you for a couple more kisses before starting to strip your clothes off of you.

She first started to pull off your shirt from your body, which you helped her with as well. Once the shirt is off, she gives you pecks, licks, and lovebites all around your torso. After that, she tries to unbuckle the belt which takes her a couple of seconds. Then, she lowers your pants and your underwear together which then shows your raging hard dick for her.

"Wow, daddy. You have a huge dick. Is it because of me, daddy?" She asks you with excitement in her tone when she sees your dick. You then nodded. "Yes, Chaey. This dick got hard because of you. Please, do what you want with it."

 After getting your consent, she then holds your dick and starts to stroke it up and down. You moan softly when you feel the sensation that you got from your dick. "Ooh, your hand feels soft and smooth around my dick."

 "I'm glad you like it, daddy. Now for the next part…" She then removes her hand from your dick which makes you feel a bit disappointed. Suddenly, she bends down to your dick and starts giving licks at the tip of your dick. Then, she starts pushing her mouth to your dick until your dick reaches the back of her throat. Once she's ready, she starts to give you a blowjob.

You moan soundly when she starts bobbing up and down onto your dick. The sensation from the warmth of her inner mouth, her tongue twirling around your dick is too phenomenal.

 She also moans because of the sensation from your dick as well as the taste of your precum. You also wonder how she could bob the whole length of your dick without gagging.

"C-Chaey, you're doing so good. H-Have you been practicing it before?" 

"Yes, I have been practicing it, daddy. But with my toys only. I'm keeping my pussy just for someone special."

You wonder who's the special person that she's talking about. "Is the special person me, Chaey?" She nods and continues bobbing her head on your dick at a faster rate.

"Mmm. Oh god! Y-You're doing so well, Chaey." You moan a bit louder than before while looking toward her. She also looks at you with an alluring gaze and a smirk to show that she's happy to know that you're pleased by her blowjob.

"O-Oh, I-I think I'm gonna cum." Isa then releases your dick from her mouth. "It's ok, daddy. Just cum in my mouth." She then re-enters your dick into her mouth and starts bobbing maniacally fast.

 At this rate, you couldn't hold it any longer and started pushing the back of her head towards your crotch and started cumming inside her mouth. She tries to take all of your cum into her mouth, however, some of it drools out of her mouth and onto your dick. Once she removes her mouth from your dick, she then shows you her tongue full of your cum and then swallows it.

"You're such a naughty girl, aren't you Chaey?" She then just giggles and playfully hits you. "I'm so glad you like it, daddy. Did I do it well, daddy?" "Of course, Chaey. By the way, isn't it fair that I'm naked while you're fully clothed?"

"Hehe, my bad daddy. I want daddy to take my clothes off me. Pleasure me in any way throughout my body, ok daddy?" You just nodded, then laid her on her back. You start to give some lovebites all around her neck and she moans from it.

Once you reach her clothed tits, you cup both of them and you then realize that she didn't wear a bra at all. "Well, I guess you've really prepared for this, huh? You naughty Chaey~" She then blushes and tries to defend herself. "N-No daddy. I really didn't expect this to happen. I didn't wear it at home because it's more comfortable."

You then try to pull her crop top off of her body. Once her crop top is taken off her body, she then tries to cover her tits with her arms. "I-I'm sorry daddy. My tits are not as big as you hope. I don't want to disappoint you, daddy."

You remove her arms from her tits but she's still resisting moving them. "It's ok Chaey. Your tits are just big enough for me." After hearing that, she then just let you remove her arms.

 Long and behold, her tits dangling in front of you, just big enough for your liking. After admiring her tits for a while, you then lean down towards her tits and latch your mouth to one of the mounds while you grope the other mound with your right hand.

She moans very loudly when you start sucking and groping her tits. "Mmm, d-daddy… Keep playing with my tits, daddy." With that, you take turns sucking her tits and cupping her tits. Meanwhile, your other hand slithers down towards her crotch, going through her pants and panties to reach her wet pussy.

You rub your hand on her pussy several times before plunging two fingers into her pussy. This causes her to moan intensely and forces you to stop whatever you're doing to her. "D-Daddy, I'm ready. Please insert your giant dick inside my pussy, daddy. I can't handle it anymore."

You then hold the hem of her pants and pull down her pants and panties off of her at once. You give your dick a couple more strokes before lining your dick towards the entrance of her pussy. "Are you sure you're ready for this Chaey?" You asked her, to which she nodded.

After having her consent, you enter your dick into her pussy slowly. You grunt a bit because of the tightness of her pussy while Isa moans in pain because she couldn't adapt to your size. "D-Daddy, it hurts." 

"It's ok Chaey. Daddy will move slowly."

You then thrust your dick in and out slowly first to give her some time to adapt to your size. "I-I think I'm ready. Thrust your dick a bit faster daddy." She assures you that she can handle the size of your dick. Thus, you then thrust faster which makes both of you moan intensely.

"G-Gosh, your pussy is very tight and warm, Chaey. I love it around my dick so much." To be honest, you almost cum on the spot when you first insert your dick into her pussy. "Mmm, your dick so good inside of me. It's so big. I can feel it touching my core."

Suddenly, she moans loudly when your dick touches somewhere in her pussy. "Mmmh… Keep hitting that part, daddy. It feels so good!" That's when you realize that you hit her g-spot. With that, you thrust your dick hitting her g-spot multiple times which makes her moan uncontrollably.

"Mmmh, daddy. You make me feel so good~. Keep going daddy, make your Chaey feel relieved." Your thrust went faster and faster every minute after she said that. Thrust by thrust, you two moan intensely until you feel some knot forming at your crotch.

"C-Chaey, I don't think I can hold it much longer." You warn her that you will about to cum. "M-Me too, daddy. F-Fill me up with your cum, daddy. Don't you wanna fill your naughty Chaey with your cum, daddy?"

 You were shocked when she told you about that. "A-Are you sure Chaey? I-I don't want you to get pregnant." She then nodded and said that it was fine to do so. "I'm pretty, pretty sure about this. I'm safe right now. So please, FILL ME UP DADDY~"

"W–WELL, HERE IT COMES, CHAEY!"

 "DADDY!!~"

Your cum spurts into her pussy like a jet while she squirts all over your crotch. "Mmmh, so warm…" She moans because your cum went inside her.

Once you feel that you're softened and not releasing cum anymore, you pull it out from her used to be a virgin hole and see your combined cums leaking out from it.

"Well, that was intense. By the way, are you really safe?" You asked her again for confirmation. "Yes, oppa. It's my safe week. In fact, I also took some birth control pills for a couple of weeks." She confirms it. You just sigh because of that.

"Hmm, I guess you did prepare for this. You naughty Chaey. So, I guess today's our first day as a couple then?" She just giggles and hugs you closer. "Hehe, I'm your naughty girlfriend Chaey then. So please take good care of me from now on. Don't you ever keep any secrets from me, ok oppa?"

After that, she yawns and starts to sleep in your embrace. You hug her tight in your embrace while watching her with full adoration and then kiss her forehead.

"Don't worry Chaey. I will always let you know that I'll be by your side every single time from now on. I love you, my Chaey." You mumbled to yourself before joining her in the sleep world.

P/s: This is my first time writing. Actually, I wanna post this earlier but since I’m new with this shit, it takes a longer period for me to post it. Hope the ones who read this would like it.

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Happy New Year! 🎉 I clearly couldn’t stay away from these two for long, so I hope you enjoy our epilogue!

Pairing: Jake Kiszka X Danny Wagner *slash

Warnings and tags: 18+ ONLY minors you are not prepared for the debauchery here. Adult themes including: brief depictions of someone going through depression, loss and longing, it’s just a flashback don’t worry, subtle talk about sexuality in the past tense, talk about surrogacy, baby talk! Smut including: bit of breeding kink, unprotected sex, rimming, dirty talk, use of the word pussy for a male, dad Jake AU, dad Danny AU!

Word count: 4.5k

Late November.

Jake walked around his empty house, putting things away, picking up little bits of forgotten trash, and shutting off lights until everything was dark and he was nothing but a ghost drifting through furniture showrooms in a department store rather than an actual home. His phantom feet carrying him, without thought to step, to his bedroom night after night.

In the light of day he played each role perfectly. The caring father, the studious boss, a thoughtful brother… but in the lonely evenings when he laid in bed staring up at the ceiling the weight of who he wasn’t sat heavy on his chest. A happy lover.

It had been three months since he’d last seen Danny. Last spoken a word to the one person he wanted to confide in most on the days where it was just hard to go on. And those days had been coming more often, lasting longer, until every day was just a mind numbing going through of motions.

It was times like these when Jake tried to think of what his brother would say. He could call him and ask, he knew that, but it had been so long since he last talked to Josh either that he knew he was in for a long speech first.

Thinking of Josh and his capacity to lecture, Jake was suddenly reminded of a time his brother confided in him.

“It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” Josh quoted on a random Sunday afternoon, barely pulling Jake’s interest from the sheet music he was currently scribbling down on. “You’ve heard that saying right?”

“Sure I have” Jake answered with a furrow of his brow. He couldn’t wrap his mind around how to put to paper what he heard in his head and it was starting to get to him.

“Do you know where it’s from then?” Josh continued, pushing a little harder for his brother's attention as he sat up on his matching twin mattress and turned to face Jake.

Jake huffed and set his pencil down onto the notebook with a frustrated clack. “Umm, no I don’t. Why?” Giving up on his own task at hand, he decided he could use a little break and looked up to meet a more serious and sober expression from Josh than he’d expected.

“It’s from a poem” Josh explained, slipping off his bed and pacing around their shared room in his socks. “In Memoriam A.H.H. It was written after the death of, as history would put it, ‘a friend’”.

“Oh”. It wasn’t difficult to catch the drift in Josh’s pointed expression. He’d always been sympathetic to people of every kind so it didn’t surprise Jake that he seemed to be somewhat perturbed by the dismissal of the supposed nature of the poet's relationship with this ‘friend’.

“Famous quote about love, and no one even knows where the inspiration came from. Or if they do they choose to ignore it”. His hands came up in animated annoyance before coming back down to slap at his sides in defeat.

“Josh? What’s your point?”

“What I’m saying is” Josh circled around the room and ended up plopping down on the bed next to Jake, avoiding eye contact now. “I don’t know what life has in store for me yet, you seem to have things all figured out” he glanced over at Jake’s still open notebook filled with pages of sheet music and a dream of playing. “But I don’t want part of me to be erased”.

Jake took a moment to process his brother's words, making sure he understood his intention clearly before offering his response. When he was absolutely sure, he slid over and placed an arm around Josh’s slumped shoulders. “You know, you will always be someone of great importance to me, and no matter who you choose to spend your life with we will always be here for you”.

Tears started to threaten the edges of Josh’s eyes. Even with Jake’s arm around him it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew deep down that he’d always have the support of his family, but it still made all the difference to have told Jake first.

“So? Does this mean there’s someone you’re interested in?” Jake teased with a poke to Josh’s reddened cheek.

“No” Josh quickly answered and used the opportunity of swatting Jake’s hand away to wipe at his waterline too. “I just felt like it was time for everyone to know”.

“No worries brother, we will find you someone who will put up with your dramatics eventually”.

Josh shot him a look before scrambling off the bed before Jake could try harder to cheer him up. “Yeah I’m sure that will go well. Why don’t you tell me how it’s been going with that girl from the party? Has she called you back yet?”

“No” Jake answered in the same defeated tone as Josh just had. He picked up his notebook and got situated with it in his lap again. Hopefully by the time she did call him back he’d have this song finished and he could show her…

Jake turned to his side and forced his eyes closed with a winded exhale from his nose. So much had happened since those starry eyes boys first spoke of love.

It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

The phrase reverberated in Jake’s head like a taunting voice in the wind, an echo of life in an abandoned home. Some would say he was lucky to have been given two great loves in his life… but to have lost them both? Jake was sure he was probably the subject of some sick cosmic joke at this point. Doomed to taste love at its greatest but never own it.

When his breathing started to even out and the thoughts receded back into the depths of his mind, an image formed behind his fluttering eyelids.

Danny came into view, laying in the bed next to him and sleeping soundly. Jake smiled in his sleep.

Somewhere even in his unconscious state he knew holding onto this picture was doing more harm than good, but if his dreams were the only place he could be with him then he’d continue to visit them without a fight.

After all, wanting to see your love again was simply who we are. It was who we all are.

One year later.

“Come on, go say goodbye to your cousins Emma and Robbie” Jake called for his daughter as he gathered coats, hats, and gloves to ready themselves for the chilly walk to the car.

“Ok!” She jumped up from the floor and ran back into the kitchen where Danny was helping entertain the kids while his sister cleaned up.

“You’re leaving already?” Danny’s mom spoke up from where she had sat in the corner of the couch and quietly watched the majority of the evening. She noticed Luna's scarf had been tossed off onto the couch next to her, or rather it had been thrown mid game when the kids were chasing after each other in circles earlier.

She gathered the tiny child sized accessory, folding it in her slowly aging hands and stood to hand it over. “I wanted to thank you for coming. Danny tells me you’re staying with your brother?”

“We are. My parents and younger brother are coming over for dinner tomorrow night which is why we had to come here tonight. So really I should be thanking you guys for being so flexible with us” Jake explained with a soft smile.

“Oh we didn’t mind at all. It was just nice to see my son”. Her voice trailed off as her eyes drifted past Jake to where they could hear him laughing with the kids. “I know things have been hard for him, and we didn’t exactly help very much. I’ll have to apologize appropriately for that one of these days. In the meantime it’s been so good to see him happy”.

Feeling a bit bold, or maybe he’d been infected with the holiday spirit that seemed to be brightening everyone’s smiles lately, but he reached over and took one of her hands in his. “It’s not my place to say much, but he’s forgiven you”.

She choked up a bit at Jake’s encouragement and relief seemed to wash over her as her stiffness melted away and she reached up to pat his hands. “Thank you for giving him his spirit back, and for motivating him to start speaking to us again”.

“Of course, though I think you misunderstand who’s been helping who most” he chuckled, thinking about how much of a life saver Danny had been since moving in with him in Nashville.

“No I know” she smiled, and Jake could see right there where Danny had gotten his little half smirk crooked grin from. “The two of you are perfect for each other, and you would be a fool to think otherwise. I’d like to say I’ve earned a little bit of wisdom in my old age”.

“Wisdom and beauty” Jake added, slipping in a bit of his charm. “If you want I can tell Danny we’ll stop by again before flying home?”

“That would be lovely” she nodded her head and just when Jake thought she was going to retreat she pulled him into a hug.

Jake hugged her back and excused himself to finish gathering everyone up. Danny kissed his sister on the cheek as she washed dishes then turned to give his niece and nephew each a big hug. Jake watched in awe as Danny said his heartfelt goodbyes, his heart aching a bit as he held the not even one year old Robbie in his arms for a beat longer before passing him back off to his Dad.

“Oh Jake, hold on one second!” Danny's sister called after him as she pulled her kitchen gloves off and disappeared down the hallway. Jake and Danny exchanged confused glances at each other until she returned with a wipe in her hand. “Here, you might need this”.

He took the wipe from her, still not understanding exactly what to do until he realized it wasn’t just any wipe, it was a makeup wipe. “Oh right, thanks” he replied, having completely forgotten he’d allowed the girls to give him a ‘makeover’ after dinner. No he felt a bit like an idiot having had that conversation with Danny’s mom while looking no doubt like a clown.

As Luna ran in front of them Danny slipped his hand into Jake’s, intertwining their fingers together as he leaned over. “Purple really is your color you know”.

“Shut up” Jake scowled as he blindly tried to clean his face, probably just smearing everything until he got in the car and could look in the mirror.

A week had passed since they returned to Nashville after visiting everyone for the holidays. Jake’s attention was pulled for a moment as Danny emerged from the bathroom, hitting the light behind him with his elbow and making his way barefoot across their bedroom as he rubbed lotion into his skin. First across his forearms, then up his biceps, and back down to smear the remainder through his fingers.

Jake had never met a man who cared as much about personal upkeep as Danny did. Well maybe besides Josh but he never paid that any mind. Danny was always urging Jake to use some moisturizer though, especially in the dry winter months down south, or offering to give him a full body massage with warm oils. The one time Jake had actually taken him up on that offer he of course had a life altering experience that ended coincidentally with the both of them naked.

The smell of vanilla and pine infiltrated Jake’s senses as Danny made it to the bed, and Jake knew it came from a holiday themed bottle Danny’s mom had gifted him for Christmas. He could tell just from looking at him Danny was freshly shaven too, probably what had taken him so long after his shower.

Before Danny used to shave in the mornings, always more diligent about staying facial hair free than Jake was who sometimes let it go a few days past what should’ve been his limit. Recently though Danny had taken to shaving in the evenings because he knew Jake liked how soft his skin was afterwards. He’d crawl to his side in bed and tuck his head under his chin breathing in all of his scent as Danny’s chest shook with giggles.

“What are you looking at?” Danny questioned when Jake tore his eyes away and back down at his phone.

“Hmm? Nothing” Jake replied, caught red handed as he switched his phone off quickly.

Danny frowned with his elbow propped up on his pillow and his head in his hand. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, s’fine” Jake slurred his words as he nibbled on his thumbs cuticle, anxiety blooming in his chest as he debated on now being the right time to have a talk.

“Jake,” Danny reached over and pulled his hand from his mouth. He’d worked so hard on getting Jake to stop chewing on his fingers and he wasn’t about to let him lapse now. “Whatever it is, you know you can talk to me right?”

Jake sighed, letting his walls come down with his exhale. “Yeah I know, it’s just a lot ok?”

“Okay?” Danny was even more concerned now, hoping Jake would eventually tell him what was on his mind rather than letting him try to sleep now imagining the worst.

“I’ve been thinking about having another baby”.

“Oh”.

Danny sat up now, clearly this was something he needed to be absolutely present for. “A baby?”

“I know, like I said it’s a lot. It’s just I saw you with baby Robbie last week and you were so good with him, it got me thinking and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since”.

Listening intently until he was done, Danny took a brief moment to process everything before a huge grin stretched across his face. “So, seeing me with my nephew made you get baby fever?”

Jake’s face lit up like the red lights on the Christmas trees they’d still yet to take down in the living room before nodding his head. “And how do you feel about that?”

“I’m…” Danny scooted closer, picking up Jake’s phone and silently asking him to unlock it, “intrigued. Will you show me?”

Jake tilted the phone more towards his face, the scanning feature picking up on it and the screen coming back to life. It revealed the website for a surrogacy agency nearby, he’d been doing research on it and looking into the programs they offered. At first it had just started off as some light browsing, but soon he became more obsessed with finding the perfect match even though he hadn’t exactly talked to Danny about it yet.

“I’ve been looking at this profile” Jake navigated the website expertly, showing he’d been around it enough to know exactly where to go now.

Danny read over the details, Jake watching his eyes scan back and forth waiting for any sign of what he thought. “She’s good” he nodded, “I mean I’d need to get some more details, and we should probably give it a few days to see if this is really what we want, but a baby does sound exciting”.

“Really?” Jake asked, almost in disbelief that Danny was actually considering this crazy idea to grow their family.

“Really really” Danny smiled and leaned over to place a swift kiss to his lips.

“There’s one more thing” Jake continued, moving for a moment to plug his phone in before turning back to Danny. “If we do this, choose surrogacy, I’d want it to be yours. I mean the baby will be ours, but for the sample we’d give them… I’d want it to be yours”.

Again Danny needed just a moment to think about how he’d respond. Was Jake sure about that? He was the one who brought up wanting to have another child in the first place so Danny was unsure whether or not he should take that responsibility for his own.

“I’d want our baby to have your eyes”.

Danny looked up meeting Jake’s sparkling gaze and he was overcome with so much emotion for the man that he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close to his chest. “I love you”.

Jake didn’t need to say it too; it was evident in the way he hugged Danny back, trying not to be over the moon about how well this talk had gone. In the same moment Danny pressed a kiss to his chest, then his neck, and his jaw, before he was crawling on top of Jake and smashing their lips together passionately.

“A baby!” Danny beamed, giving Jake a second to catch his breath. “I can’t wait,” his hands started to trail down Jake’s sides, landing on his hips and pulling him down into a lying position. “Should we try for one now?”

“T-try for one?” Jake stuttered, becoming more and more flustered by the way Danny continued to pet his sides and tickle his neck with the tip of his nose. He wiggled as his breath came out in a shudder when Danny’s hand reached down the front of his sleep pants to feel him already half-hard.

“You heard me” Danny emphasized his point with a slow drawn out stroke.

“And you realize that’s impossible right?” Jake countered, trying desperately to remain calm in the face of Danny’s expert hands. “I don’t have the anatomy to carry a child”.

Danny’s lips, the lips that were currently leaving opened mouthed kisses on every square inch of Jake’s collar, pulled into a smile as he chuckled. “I know, but I bet you wish it was you I was getting knocked up. Don’t you?”

Jake let his eyes roll back and his eyelids fluttered closed as his body temperature started to rise, at least until Danny’s had retreated completely.

“I said, don't you?” Danny asked again once he’d gotten Jake’s attention back.

“Yes Danny” Jake breathed out, somehow the admission turning him on even more than the slight attention to his lower half had caused.

“Good boy. Now roll over”.

Jake obediently followed Danny’s command without another word.

In the year they had been together now Danny and Jake had explored plenty of sexual experiences with each other. They had taken their time learning what the other liked and taught each other even more along the way by willing trading roles. Even if Jake did secretly prefer Danny to take the lead most of the time.

Like tonight, Danny pulled Jake’s pants off and tossed them somewhere he wasn’t concerned with at the moment, pausing just for a beat to admire how Jake looked beneath him, already completely hard and flushed all over. He’d never get over how beautiful he was.

“Now, I’m gonna eat this pretty pussy until you’re good and ready to take me”. A gasp left Jake when Danny spread him open and spit directly on his hole. “Hmm, looks like you like the sound of that” he teased next, using his finger to spread his saliva around. “You’re already clenching around nothing”.

Jake was finally pushed past his mind’s breaking point when Danny leaned in, making him think he was about to do as he’d said, and blew cool air through pursed lips instead. “Jesus Danny just do something already!” He pound his fist onto the mattress and dropped his head below his shoulders in a fit of hormone induced insanity.

Normally Danny wouldn’t reward attitude like this, but even after how they had gotten here, tonight wasn’t about establishing dominance or bending Jake to his will. It was about showing him just how absolutely cherished he was. So Danny caved and gave him what he wanted, his mouth connecting with him in a way only the most devoted of lovers could offer.

At first Jake felt somewhat ashamed by how much he liked it. This certainly wasn’t something he’d have the gall to ask for, so for the time being he was enjoying himself to his full potential rocking his hips backwards and fucking himself on Danny’s tongue.

The only complaint he had was with Danny so focused he couldn’t hear his sultry voice whispering dirty nothings in his ear. Instead he had to suffer through listening to himself whimper and moan uncontrollably. A particularly loud moan escaped him when Danny added a finger, hooking it deep inside as his tongue continued to make sure his rim was relaxed.

“You ready to lay back down? Want you nice and relaxed when I pump you full of my cum”.

There it was again, his fabulous, seductive, voice speaking absolute filth that had Jake shaking at the knees in anticipation. As he situated himself on his back again Danny stood out of bed to undress and collect their favorite lube, smirking when he turned back around to the sight of Jake slowly stroking himself.

“What?” Jake cocked a challenging brow. “Can’t I enjoy the view?” His gaze flickered down to the toned muscles of Danny’s ass, biting his bottom lip into his mouth as he started to tug harder.

Danny crawled back onto the bed, taking Jake’s hand in his own and pinning it to the pillows above him as he came face to face, nose to nose, with him. “Not as much as I enjoy mine”.

Jake tried to crane his neck for a kiss, but Danny turned at the last moment and kissed at his shoulder instead as they started to grind their bare erections together.

“Danny” Jake muttered in that honeyed pleading voice that made Danny stop in his tracks every time. “Kiss me”.

Danny’s brows furrowed, trying not to show how badly he wanted to especially when Jake asked him to with those heart-shaped pouty lips.

He tugged his pinned arm, and Danny loosened his grip allowing Jake to slip free and move down to cup Danny’s face in his palm. “I want you to kiss me, then I want you to fuck me until I see stars”.

“Jake,” Danny breathed softly, using his grip to guide his boyfriend's legs up around his hips. “You’re so perfect. I want you to know that”.

The pads of his fingers tightened along Danny’s jaw line as Jake urged him to look him in the eyes. “No one’s perfect, but I love you and you love me, and that’s all that matters anyway”.

Danny wholeheartedly agreed by claiming his lips again, the intensity rising once more as he applied lube over the both of them and slowly pushed inside. The kiss only broke when they were fully connected, Jake sighing in relief and Danny groaning deep against his chest. They stayed like that for a while, Jake’s legs hooked like vice grips on Danny’s hips urging him deeper.

Jake’s cock was aching as it leaked wildly between their bodies, but he knew if he tried to touch himself again it’d be over too soon. He wanted tonight to last a little longer, feeling some new sense of rejuvenation and energy with the prospect of their future. Danny felt it too. He felt closer to Jake than ever before as he steadily thrust inside him, rising to ask for another kiss before increasing his pace and pulling more melodic moans from his lover.

Even if they wanted to go all night, which they had plenty of times in the past when securing a babysitter, they both reached their peak together Danny spilling inside with a breathy moan and Jake truly getting so high on the feeling he felt like he was floating through the cosmos. After coming back down, Danny helped clean them up before crawling back under the covers and pulling Jake close to his side.

“You think I’ll make a good father?”

Jake, who had already started to drift in and out of a light sleep looked up with an expression that read are you serious?

“I mean you are such a good Dad already,” Danny avoided looking down at Jake, knowing his sudden trepidation was silly and delusive, but still searched for some reassurance anyway. “It’s a lot to live up to isn’t it?”

“It is” Jake confirmed, but he would have never suggested trying for a baby if he didn’t think Danny was absolutely prepared for the role. “And you are so good with all of the kids already. You don’t have anything to worry about my love”.

The room filled with silence again and Jake laid his head back on Danny’s chest already closing his eyes once more. Danny on the other hand couldn’t sleep just yet. He realized why Jake had been researching it so much the past week, Danny couldn’t get the idea out of his mind. Holding a tiny baby in his arms, smelling that distinct newborn smell from the top of their little fuzzy head, letting Luna meet them for the first time. It was all playing out in his head like a film he couldn’t wait to see.

A smile crept quietly onto his face, and Danny glanced down to see Jake already snoring softly with his lips slightly parted and his cheek smushed to his shoulder. “I think Luna would love a little sister” he whispered, tucking a stray tangle of hair behind Jake's ear and kissing his temple before laying back and dreaming of their beautiful family.

Fifteen months later.

“Got it!” Danny cheered in success as he managed to get all the safety straps on the car seat base secured into place. “Why didn’t we do that before getting to the hospital?” He chuckled as he backed away from the door and let Jake by to load the precious cargo.

“It’s been a while since I had one this tiny. I forgot” Jake admit as he made sure the sun shade was down and she was still sleeping soundly, lingering for a minute to admire her wispy raven baby curls. “And I was excited to get here”.

“Right” Danny laughed even harder, waiting for Jake to duck back out and noticing a small fleck on his cheek when he turned around. “Wait hold on a sec” He caught Jake by the arm and used the pad of his ring finger to gently swipe across his cheek bone. “It’s an eyelash, make a wish”.

Jake examined the minuscule black lash on the tip of Danny’s finger then looked up at him with a blush. “But all my wishes have already come true”.

Danny shook his head and blew the lash away himself then leaned in to steal a quick kiss right there in the parking lot. “Alright then, come on let's get Stella home”.

Fin.

Tags: @kultavalo @sanguinebats @gracev0609 @lipstickitty @freyjalw @lyndz2names

[yorutsuki]

「 ✦ Did I Take it Too Far? ✦ 」

↳ Arrogant and prideful, you let them get the best of you during a match—it was only supposed to be a simple spar session.

Tags:

──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────

"Kirishima vs L/n, your up."

You hummed, a small sense of excitement bubbling within your chest.

This would be an easy win.

Your quirk, being fire could easily overwhelm the red-head—and easily earn you a victory.

The two of you preceded to the field, both getting into stance.

"You sure your quirk can withstand 2100 degree flames?" You grinned cockily, your hand sweating before igniting with crimson flames that danced in the wind.

"Do you think you can handle a boulder ramming into you?" He grinned back.

"Start!"

The two of you commenced battle—you instantly rushed towards your classmate, throwing a fiery punched which he dodged swiftly.

You quickly ducked an incoming blow of rock before backing up from another blow though retaliated with a burst of flames which Kirishima narrowly evaded with a roll. In the meantime, you quickly rushed towards him once more, gaining a small boosts from your flames, and sent a slash of fire.

Unfortunately, Kirishima blocked them with his hardening before running and sending a punch which was easily avoided and countered with flame that managed to graze his arm.

"Not even 5 hits in and i've managed to graze you, surely you can do better than that crimson riot wannabe!" You shouted, sending another attack of flames as your opponent ducked and rolled.

"Why didn't you get me in the first 3, maybe even the first!" He smirked.

You looked over to him before glancing over to your classmates. You swore you saw some laughing—maybe at you?

No, they weren't...You're fine.

No..You need to do better—4 hits were too many until a successful attack.

Your brows furrowed, though your cocky grin never faltered. "I'll make this round short, 3 more hits are all I need." You swore, before sending a burst of flame.

3 more hits...

"Is it just me or did L/n get a bit more aggressive?" Denki commented, watching your movements closely.

Todoroki shook his head, "It's not just you." His brows furrowed.

Kirishima blocked another incoming attack, though hissed as he wasn't quick enough for the follow up fire.

2 more...

Aiming and fusing multiple attacks at once, your were blinded by the bright flames as you barely dodged a kick to the side before flipping the owner who surprisingly landed though grunted as fire grazed his leg which wasn't hardened.

1 more...

"Woah, Kirishima totally looked awesome with that landing." Sero commented as Denki hummed in agreement along with Mina. "Let's go Kiri!" She cheered, some others joining as well.

You had gotten side-tracked with the new compliments, that you failed to notice the punch landed straight on the cheek. Fortunately you were way to close to the line.

Fuck, you were way too close

"I thought you said three hits, Pyro!"

No, he's fucking taunting you.

Three hits...

You got too side-tracked that he actually managed to hit you.

How did someone with a quirk like theirs manage to hit someone with a quirk like yours?

Were you too weak?

No,

No, you weren't

You just need to push yourself—exert more power...yeah, thats it, you just need more power then the match is yours!

Just need to make multiple attacks at one, put more in the gamble, your not weak.

Fuck, you felt your heartbeat increase, your hands emitting more sweat.

"L/n's attacks are getting more..rushed?"

"Kirishima looks like he's hanging on by a rope."

"I think i'm changing my bet."

The last comment didn't go unheard by you—it only fueled you more,

You just need to give it one last push—exert more.

"Oh shit-"

"What's L/n doing?"

You need to expand your flames, need to make them hotter—make him forfeit, you can't- You won't fail, you can't afford to.

"Kirishima!"

"L/N!"

"Oh my God..!"

Just one more-

"Thats enough!"

Suddenly you felt a cold breeze blow by.

Why isn't your quirk working?

Did you push yourself too hard?

Were you too weak to handle it?

Were-

"Kirishima!"

You were snapped out from your trance, scorn marks and ashes were covering the whole field, black and gray replacing the once sandy-coloring.

Your eyes glanced towards the sound until they fell upon the familiar red-head's body, laying—barely consciously, on the floor.

Your heart dropped to your stomach. Kirishima laid on the sandy floor, his training suit was burnt and holed-filled, revealing nasty 2nd degree burns, small 3rd degree's about his legs and arms.

Your breathing pickened at the sight.

"L/n! Your following me." Aizawa's voice was laced with disappointment and filled with irritation as he dragged you with his scarf.

You looked towards your classmates, Mina, Sero, Denki, Midoriya and a few others were aiding Kirishima while the rest looked at the scene or at you—worry, anger and even fear present.

You swallowed a dry lump in your throat, shaking as you ripped your head away.

You took it too far, and now your going to face the consequences.

[metaphorical-goblin]

So You Want to Start Reading Fanfiction

Hello! So, if you're here, chances are you already read fanfiction. However, it's possible that you don't, and you want to start! I hope this guide will give you a little bit of info to help you get started.

A. Where to Read Fic

We'll start with the basics: where to start? I prefer Archive of Our Own, (colloquially known as AO3), but others use other sites, such as fanfiction.net, Wattpad, and even DeviantArt! But I prefer AO3 because of their comprehensive tagging system.

B. AO3: A Primer

Let's go over some brief definitions and explanations.

Fic: Short for 'fanfiction'.

Tags: labels that people put on stories. Most people think of these as "trigger warnings," but that's not an all-encompassing label, since tags are also used to indicate different types of stories or relationships (for example, Fluff, AU, or Hurt/Comfort).

AU: Short for 'Alternate Universe'. This refers to when an author takes the characters and... well, puts them in a universe that's different from canon. Alternate Universe tags can also come with more specificity (Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops and Cafes, or Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, to give some examples).

Canon: short for "canonical." This refers to what actually happened in the original media, as opposed to popular fan theories or headcanons.

MCD: short for "Major Character Death."

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat: this is a term often used on fics with more "extreme" contents. It is meant to be a warning for readers to take the listed tags seriously; i.e., the author means it when they use the listed tags! What you see is what you get, so take time to review the tags and summary carefully.

No Archive Warnings Apply vs. Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings: I won't go into detail about the Archive Warnings here, since AO3 has a very extensive page about this, but the brief summary is: "No Archive Warnings Apply" refers to media that doesn't require any of the warnings (that is, Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence, etc.). "Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings" means that the creator may have included some content that isn't tagged or listed. It's always wise to proceed with caution!

Character/Character vs. Character & Character: This is a very key distinction! The slash refers to romantic relationships (dating, sex, marriage, etc., like Phoenix Wright/Miles Edgeworth) and the ampersand (&) refers to platonic relationships (friendships, parents, siblings, etc., like Trucy Wright & Apollo Justice). Some fics even use both (Franziska von Karma/Maya Fey; Franziska von Karma & Maya Fey); this is simply used to indicate that these characters might interact in both romantic and platonic ways, or it explores other aspects of their relationship. It's not uncommon to see groups of people all listed together, either as a platonic group or as a polyamorous coupling.

Now, what is an "archive?"

You may be apprehensive (or even nervous!) to read, like, or comment on something that's a few years old. This isn't something to worry about on AO3! The expectation is that you'll be searching for something to read based on your preferred tags (plus, any creator would probably be thrilled that someone is still reading their story a year, five years, even fifteen years later!).

The purpose of an "archive" is to hold all of these stories to share. You wouldn't avoid picking up a book at the library just because it's been there for a while, would you? The archive is the same way!

Getting an Account

AO3 has a bit of a waiting list when it comes to getting an account. This shouldn't deter you from applying to get one! Having an account on AO3 has all kinds of benefits, including:

Access to many other fics that authors have chosen to show to registered members only

The ability to Subscribe to fics and receive emails when they update

The ability to save your favorite fics with Bookmarks for easy access

Keeping a "marked for later" list (instead of having 73 open tabs of fics you want to read at all times)

A record of your history (so you can find the fic you forgot about!) that can be cleared with ease (so... other people can't find the fic you forgot about)

A presence in your fan community (something stellar about being recognized by an author you love...)

And more! ...probably

C. Navigating AO3

There's the occasional critique that AO3 is a bit hard to get around. However, I'd like to show you that this isn't the case!

Finding a Fandom

AO3 has... thousands of fandoms. Probably hundreds of thousands. So, the easiest way to find something that you enjoy is by starting at the fandom page!

If you already know what you're looking for, it's easy to just click on it's corresponding category and Ctrl + F for the title you're looking for (Cartoons & Comics & Graphic Novels -> Ctrl + F -> Owl House). However, if you're not sure what you're in the mood for, I like to click on "All Fandoms" and just see what's popular.

For this example, I'll just use Ace Attorney since... that's where I live.

Narrowing down...

Alright! So you found your fandom... and there are a hundred thousand fics to choose from. What do you do now?

The next step is to find your fic! One idea (and the method that I used when I first started) was simply to scroll through the landing page and see what was recently published.

However, you may want a little more specificity... let's say today that I'm looking for a multichapter fic with a Coffee shop AU where Miles and Phoenix get together. Now, how do I find something like that?

Well... that's where Sort and Filter comes in!

As a side note, if you're on mobile, you'll have to hit the "Filters" button at the top of the screen to open this panel.

Here is where we start adding specifics to what we want to read! Include and Exclude are sort of self-explanatory... "Include" looks for fics that have the tags you asked for, whereas "Exclude" hides everything that you list.

Language Settings are also useful! Selecting the language you want to read fics in (for me, English) also helps narrow down the numbers.

"Relationships" is useful to narrow things down for the specific ship or group that you want to read about. You can include or exclude multiple relationships, as well (personally, I really enjoy stories that explore both romantic and platonic relationships, so I tend to use multiple!).

I don't often include Word Count, but it can be handy if you're looking for a shorter fic (for example, sorting with a max of 5,000 words) or a longer fic (using a minimum of... 10,000 words, I guess).

At the top, you have "Sort By"! This is a very handy tool if you want to change up how you're seeing what the archive pulls up. I tend to sort by Date Updated (if I'm looking for something new) or Bookmarks (if I want to find something popular), but take time to explore all the options!

Now, let's see how the fic numbers change after I put in my filters...

Wow! So just a few filters took my choices from over 38,000, all the way down to 7! There are all sorts of other tags you can use, too, to look for the story you want to read! (Getting together, Family Fluff, DIVORCE!!!)

D. So, You Found a Fic!

Well, you sorted through the tags, read the summaries, and picked the fic you want. What do you do now?

What's a Kudos? Well, 'Kudos' is AO3's version of a 'like'. It's sort of custom to leave a Kudos if you finished reading the fic!

What should I comment? I won't go into detail about comments here, because that's a whole post on it's own. Comments are a step up from Kudos; it's your chance to tell the author what, specifically, you liked about their work (or that you just really, really liked it!). You shouldn't be afraid to leave comments, no matter how old a fic is. In fact, unless the author says otherwise, a Kudos and comment are appreciated at any time!

The Difference between Subscribing, Bookmarking, and "Mark for Later"

Note: All of these features are only available for registered members, so if you don't have an account yet, just slide on past this section!

Subscribing with the Subscribe button is a feature that emails you whenever the author updates that particular fic. Subscriptions are private; the only person who can see that you're subscribed to something is you!

Bookmarking is a tool you can use to save fics you really love. It's like putting your favorite book in a special place! It's important to remember that, unless you mark private, all of your Bookmarks are publicly visible! This means that any comments or notes you leave can be seen both by other users and the author; keep this in mind before you write something mean!

Mark for Later is a button you can use to save a fic that you want to come back to later. It saves it to a special page on your account in your history (in the Marked for Later tab). Like subscriptions, "Mark for Later" is private, and no one will see it. However, you will not get notified if your "Mark for Later" fics are updated, unless you are also subscribed.

E. What now?!?!?

Well... that's kind of all I have to teach you! You can keep modifying tags or fandoms to find things to read, but the best way to learn the website is by exploring it yourself!

After you read a fic, I highly recommend you leave a comment. Aside from the fact that it encourages the author, it also helps you build community with other creators! It's just fun to leave comments, and you can start some great friendships like this!

You might also want to explore the author's other works! This is easy to do; just scroll to the top of the page and click on the author's name, which is listed right under the title. If you liked this fic, odds are you'll probably like their other ones!

If you really really want to go wild, you could even share the fic on other sites (like tumblr!)! I don't do this often, but it's a good way to ask for or give recommendations for fics that you love.

Well... if you read all the way to the end, congratulations! I'm by no means an expert, but if you have any questions, I'd be happy to help you out. Good luck!

[gioiaalbanoart]

Find the Word Tag

So.....I had several in the back-burner, I might get start now....😅

THANKS TO : @the-golden-comet (X) with : house, flower, rain, green AND (X) with cold, shiver, stream, and drop AND (X) with Fear, Trust, Summon, Horror

@wyked-ao3 (X) with : loyal, gun, tree, smoke and (X same as Goldie)

and (X) with : void, valid, villain, violent and (X) with  fire, aim, guilty, hell

@authorcoledipalo (X) with : ache, slash, bounce, wink

@tragedycoded (X) with tire, accurate, innocent, switch

@sableglass (X) with Sting, Chase, Care, Empty and (X) with Lock, Cross, Stick, Fly

From my wip The scarred angel under the cut with tags

house

And Amy wishes. She wishes so badly for time to stop.

Of course it doesn't, and the morning reaches easily the greenhouse.

rain (it was the closest one 😂)

As I keep staring, bewitched, I'm vaguely aware of part of my brain suggesting : "Must be what being hit by lightening feels like".

green

By some standards I bet he could be considered as handsome : tanned, green eyes, tick dark hair, really bright white teeth.

cold

I’m suddenly cold now, despite the too warm, too humid fucking weather, but I sink in the sensation anyway.

shiver

Suddenly the power of a possible implication hits him, eyes go wide : "They're not past fentanyl, are they ?" he blurts and shivers despite himself. 

stream

"Our work on the border is challenging by definition. Starting with drugs and  illegal immigration and all the possible downstream harms like  various smuggling, gun-running.... You name it. 

drop

When this one looks at me with those arctic blue eyes my jaws involuntarily drops and all hairs on my body go secretly hair-raising.

Trust

She puts together scratches of material she has written, mainly on paper because she doesn't trust to bring along her laptop in the patrol car. 

Fear

It's old enough that among other things she fears it might overheat and miserably melt.

Summon

Herrera's answer hangs in the air while I summon internally any entity whatsoever that might keep him talking without requiring another awkward prompt coming from me.

Horror

It still would be nothing compared to the horror's ripping her apart.

gun

Which translates as different groups at war engaging in gunfight and not finishing the job because more urgent matters.

tree

Can you imagine families in those streets? With children?"

smoke

Despite all the open windows and the "no smoking" signs a stale cigarettes smoke persists and combined with the heat makes the air stuffy, so much for breathing.

void

We almost argued and Phil hardly held his tongue to avoid lashing out on me.

violent

"We're helping with the operation." he says : "We are on watch if you prefer. We want to avoid as much as possible any violent consequence on ours side."

ache

Ashley arches an eyebrow like a challenge : "Rumors about me have reached your ears, perhaps?"

wink

Still Morales winks at her, the lopsided unpleasant smirk still plastered on his face.

tire

Maybe I'm failing at it, or he's just so tired, as his heavy eyes' bags show, that he just can't care less.

switch

Say I call in I wouldn't have a clue about whom I could ask for, I probably wouldn't pass beyond the switchboard.

Sting

Proper interviews it's usually when things get interesting.

Chase

Amy chases away fleeting images of light blonde hair and ice blue eyes sneaking annoyingly between responsible and fully functional thoughts.

Care

She' half sitting half leaning on the desk edge, splayed palms planted behind to props her up like an easel, body language exuding a kind of devil-may-care attitude that seems irritating Morales as much.

Empty

My stomach is still churned and part of me is focusing on keep it from emptying it just there on the floor which is probably why I don't mince my words when I ask : "What's Ashley Knox to you, sir?"  

fire

But she's rather glad she didn’t earn any new of them from the fire, new painful identification marks.

aim

"So, what is that you're good at aim?" the blonde asks before taking a sip, curiosity lingering in her eyes above the glass's edge.

hell

Why the hell does she shaves so? 

Lock

Ashley at first locks eyes with hers then her lips twists in a half shit-eating grin : "That's was lame." She breaths out almost like talking to herself. 

Cross

Sounds like a joke, it must me the most common family name here where we can just walk to cross the border and get to Mexico. 

Stick

She abruptly goes back sitting and stirs the fire with a stick, her gaze back to usual hardness.

Fly

There is no way I'm taking a fly back home right now anyway, I don't have the strength, so let's play the role just for a few days.

NF : flower, loyal, valid, villain, slash, bounce, accurate, innocent, guilty

****

Now, that was...Np tag but I wanna share the pain 🤣 . Pick up one/more than one/ whatever words :

@saturnine-saturneight, @davycoquette, @cowboybrunch, @authorcoledipalo, @leahnardo-da-veggie, @kaeru483 @alinacapellabooks + open tag and a drink because you probably gonna need one 🍻 🍻🍻

[vibratingskull]

Yandere!Thrawn x F!reader chapter 6

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

tag : Yandere behaviors (duh), beating

Your alarm clock rings and you shut it off, eyes bloodshot and fixed on the ceiling. You rub your eyes and exhale deeply. You have to go to work today, it's another day… You try to motivate yourself, knowing perfectly that today won’t be no different. 

It was subtle at first, just some weird looks or a sniff of disdain when you approached. And then, one day, everyone turned against you. They were overly hostile, pushing you against the wall, spitting in your direction, insulting you… The whole crew went sour and aggressive. And you have no idea why.

You took it to superiors but someone kept stopping the process each time. You tried to speak directly to Thrawn but he refused to see you, not hard to imagine why. But the fact of the matter is you are alone and more and more isolated on the Chimaera. Nobody talks to you if it’s not to insult you, you feel consistently spied on and scared that each situation degenerates into physical violence. You don’t feel safe anymore…

You rise from your bed to head towards the showers. You leave your uniform on the sink and enter a shower stall. You let warm water run on your body, a moment of peace before the storm. You take advantage of each second before you leave the comforting warm air for the deadly cold air of the bridge. 

You choke back a sob, hugging yourself under the water, when you hear fist hitting your glass door with a shout. “Freak!” They scream, pounding on the door. You cower, naked and terrified.

Then, silence.

You slowly rise back, unsure, and open the door lightly just to check. Nobody’s here. You release your breath, wrapping yourself in your towel. You exit the stall to put on your uniform rapidly before anyone coming back and realize someone used a blade to slash it.

“Do you have a single convincing explanation for your attire?” Commodore Faro asks, deeply annoyed. “I don’t have another uniform in good condition.” You explain, straight and stiff in your ripped uniform. She looks at you and shakes her head with disdain, “Go to your console, I don’t want to hear from you.” You obey and head towards your position. The officer you relieve stands up and pushes you with her shoulder as you go to sit down. You don’t say anything but look at her black. You hear chuckles all around you, mocking you for your attire, Faro doesn’t order them to shut up. You grit your teeth and get to work.

Your mind is spinning at 100 miles per hour, trying to find who could help you as you work, typing on that console. “Everyone focus, the Grand Admiral will examine your performances for this exercise!” Faro shouts. 

Karyn!

She could help you!

You were somewhat friends, she could tell you what’s happening! Maybe she could interfere and help you. You wait for the noon break and walk out to her. She looks up towards you and you see disgust painted on her face before it disappears in a second. Great… Her too.

“Could you explain to me what's happening?” You ask, sitting down in front of her. “I have nothing to tell you.” She doesn’t even raise her eyes from her dish, “Come on! We used to be friends, no?”, “Maybe we shouldn’t have.” she retorts coldly. What might have you done for everyone to hate you like that? “Listen, I just want to know what is going on. Suddenly everyone hates me and borderline harasses me.”, “Just inform the hierarchy.” She responds drily, “That’s what I did, but someone keeps stopping my requests. I’m stuck.”

“Then speak with the Grand Admiral Thrawn. You are close, no?” You lower your shoulders, since that fiasco with the Captain he refuses to see you, despite your will to present your excuses to him. You don’t know what transpired between them, she took care avoiding you and you’re left with no answer. “Even though… I doubt he would help you with this one.” She finishes you up, clearly displeased to have you here. You look up to her with questions in your eyes. You just want an explanation. She gauges at you up and down “You really don’t know what this is all about, do you?” she finally asks. You shake your head.

She sighs and takes out her comlink to show you something. Your eyes widen in disbelief at what you see.

You’re in tears, ugly crying as you walk through the corridors of the Chimaera. Who spread that rumor? Why? What did you do to them? Is everyone aware of it? It makes you feel like you could puke at any moment.

You reach Thrawn’s office and, desperate, you try your code’s cylinder. Before it consistently refused to open for you and you have little hope now, but the door opens in a shush much to your surprise. Maybe he wants to talk to you now?

Thrawn has his back turned to you, focusing on a holographic map, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Grand Admiral…” You greet with a voice full of tears. “What are you doing here?” he asks coldly, making you shiver. “I… I need help…”, “Oh you do, now?” He sounds ultimately uninterested by your problems, not even turning towards you. “Please… I need you to hear me, someone started to spread a rumor about me and-”, “Why is your uniform in such a poor condition?” He cuts you off. You raise your head to look at him judging you with his red gaze. “Huh… Someone slashed it this morning.” you explain, embarrassed.

He shakes his head “You embarrass the Navy clothed as such. Remedy it immediately.” He turns back to the map, like the conversation ended. “I can’t really, all my other uniforms have been soiled with paint or oil by someone…”, “Are those poor excuses for not being able to take care of your own uniform, Lieutenant Commander?” He bites back “If you are not able to take care of an outfit, what good can you do for the Navy? Maybe a demotion is in order.”, “No, Please!” you shout by instinct. He looks back at you, frowning, his hard gaze judging you, “Please, no… Sir.” You plead, “I swear someone is trying to frame me, they even started a horrifying rumor about me.” You explain. A sob comes to shake you, just thinking about it makes you sick.

He remains silent, gauging you up and down as you start crying again. You hide your face behind your hands, before you would have gone to hug your friend and he would have told you everything is gonna be fine, caressing your head with his warm hand. But this man is not your friend, he is cold and distant, judging you harshly, and you can’t hold it against him, what happened to him was apparently pretty nasty judging by his reaction. But you terribly need a friend, you need support, anything proving you're not alone in this… “The whole crew turned on me, they insult me all day long, shove me against walls and they physically threatened me. Please, I need your help…” 

He turns fully to you with an annoyed sigh. “What is it?” he demands with a tone that sends shivers down your spine. He is pissed, whatever grudge he has for you he holds it tight. “I…” You start to speak, but you’re too disgusted to formulate it with words, this is so nasty… “So?” He asks with a hint of impatience “If you have nothing to say, go back to your post. I deal with important matters, I have no time for your whims.” You feel the venom dripping from each word despite his polite and calm tone. “They… They accuse me of…” Eyes fixed on your feet, you feel like puking right there and here “Of being a… pe…” You hold back a wave of sickness as Thrawn looks at you with the coldest glare you ever felt on you “A pedophile.” You manage to let out. You feel yourself sweating profusely as the sickness slowly goes away. He remains deadly silent. You finally muster the courage to look back at him only to be graced by the back of his head. He fully turned away from you.

“Thrawn…” You plea, “Go back to your post.” He just says uninterested. “Thrawn, please…”, “You are considered innocent until proven guilty, but be prepared to visit a cell at any given time.” His tone is monotone, unsympathetic. It destroys you. “Thrawn! I know you hate me right now, but I really need your help! I-”, “I cannot do anything without any proof of your guiltiness or innocence, go back.” he dismisses you with a nonchalant gesture of the hand, deaf to your cries. “Thrawn, you can’t possibly need proof? You know me, we are friends, you know I would never do such things!!” You cry. You can’t believe you have to justify yourself before such baseless accusations, you always prefer your partners the same ages as you or older, accusing you of such horrifying acts… Who would be deviant enough to do such things??

“Do I? Before I thought you would not leave me between the claws of a predator, but I was painfully wrong. Maybe my entire opinion of you is just simply wrong and I misjudged you for an upright person.” He finally lets out. You can’t believe what you’re hearring, even Thrawn won’t side with you. “Thrawn…” You plea, desperate. “Go away.” He just orders.

You flee the office in tears, you run to your bed and drops on the mattress, crying your heart out, digging your nails in the covers, tearing your pillow apart with your stomach in knots.

After one hour, once your cries subsided you reason you have to go back to your post. Faro admonishes you severely for being late and you get a chore as punishment. You sit down at your console, completely depressed, everyone around seems pleased by your actual state, you barely register what’s happening before your teary eyes, “Lieutenant Commander (y/l/n), if you don’t focus on the exercise more than that I will need to speak about your actual position to the Grand Admiral.” Faro instructs. Obviously, all the bridge heard and your hear sniggers all over the place. “I am sorry, Commodore.” you respond, disheartened. It is so hard to focus in those conditions.

When your shift ends you let out a big sigh, wiping your soaked wet cheeks of any remnant of tears. “Lieutenant Commander (y/l/n), follow us for a second.” another Lieutenant Commander asks you as you were going to get caff in the wardroom. You follow them to the locker room with glassy eyes, exhausted. You realize a whole group of ensigns and officers are already here, waiting for you. The look they give you freezes you down your core, “What the-” you start but you are violently pushed in the middle of the room, so much you lose your balance and hit the floor with a groan of pain.

As you try to raise up you feel a boot putting pressure on your skull, keeping you in place. “Wait!” you shout, terrified “What’s going on?”, “Freak” he responds calmly “We don’t want degenerates like you around here, child molesters have no place here…”, you don’t have time to plead your c ase you receive a prodigious kick in the stomach, “Your simple presence here soil the prestige of the Navy, freak.” You receive a second one in the ribs, cutting your breath, you spit out blood, coughing. “Wait…I am innocent” You breath ”I came to the Grand Admiral Thrawn to-”, “Keep the Grand Admiral Thrawn out of your wretched mouth!” One screams “He is an honorable man! You defiled him by lying and pretending to be an upright woman to be his friend!”, “He’s right! Now because of you the Grand Admiral Thrawn will be accused of protecting a child molester!” a woman adds.

You are met with a barrage of punches and kicks in your stomach, ribs, legs and face. You try to protect yourself the best you can as they scream at you to disappear, to go die in a ditch and to not associate with Thrawn anymore. You feel bruises flourishing on your skin, your bones fissuring or cracking altogether and your nose and mouth bleeding. Each time you try to stand up you're being kicked back down, you feel your blood vessels exploding inside your body and a warm, sticky sensation flows all over your face. You try to scream but your breath is cut off at each hit you take. You cower over yourself trying to protect your ribs the best you can so they hit your spine and head instead.

You can’t believe you're gonna meet your end like that, by the hands of your colleagues, people you fought alongside with, people you used to dine with each day. You scream of pain when you feel a bone breaking inside your soft flesh, the pain exploding like a bomb. You hear your skull cracking under the boot’s pressure. You plead for mercy but they shout and scream in response.

So this is it. Is this how you’ll go? Under the hits of former friends because of a psycho that wants you dead? Are they here?  You wonder in a flash of lucidity, is your tormentor in this room right now? Taking their pleasure in seeing groveling, bloody and in pain? 

You feel torpor and darkness dangerously approaching when a calm voice rises over the chaos, “Stop.” You know this voice, you’ll recognize it among a thousand, it is clear, melodic and deep, inviting for no rebellion and demands respect. You see your tormentors turning towards the door where Thrawn stands, hands clasped behind his back. He spoke so serenely and placidly, knowing everyone would obey his commands. “Enough.” He just says walking towards you.

“Sir! You can’t leave her off the hook like that! She’s a sick freak, she soils your honor just by being here!” One of them explains, still excited by the violence. You try to raise on your elbow but you just spit blood. “I thank you for worrying for my honor, however I received proof of her innocence. Someone took a sick pleasure in targeting an innocent and competent officer and you all played in their game.” Thrawn nonchalantly gives his datapad to the spokesperson and you see his eyes opening in disbelief. They all move away from you as he approaches, like animals in front of the dominant of the pack. You cough blood, still rolled up into a ball as he kneels in front of you.

“Poor (Y/n), what did those animals do to you?” He murmurs, caressing a strand of your hair out of your bloody face. You moan in pain, unable to articulate any words, bones cracked, you can only extend your hand to him in a desperate fashion to get out of here. “Thrawn…” You plead miserably like he is your Lord and Savior.

“I am here.” He answers softly only for you to hear. He scoops you up and walks out of the locker room with you in his arms under the disbelieved gaze of your aggressors slowly realizing their error as the datapad travels from hand to hand in a dead silence. 

Instinctively you snuggle against Thrawn’s chest, where you are safe. “Nothing can happen to you now.” He whispers as he walks towards the med bay, you groan and wince in pain at each of his steps, your body is so sore and painful you feel your heartbeat beating in your ears and the blood flowing out your nose and mouth. “My poor (Y/n), I will punish those monsters. I will keep you safe, nothing will happen to you.” He soothes you as you start crying.

You feel so safe in his arms, like it is your rightful place. “Thrawn…” You call pathetically between your tears, “I am scared…”, “I know cha’cah, I know. If you stay by my side nothing will be able to reach you.” He presses your face in the crook of his neck, you inhale his scent, it is familiar and reassuring, comforting you in your pain. You’re so relieved to have your friend back…

“Grand Admiral we… What happened?” Karyn asks, appearing at a corner of a corridor. “A regrettable incident. I want you to draw the list of everyone’s names  present in the locker room, I will deal with them appropriately later.” He orders without slowing down his walk. 

You feel him laying you down in a bed. You wince. This is so painful. “You are safe now, (Y/n). Do not worry about anything, I will take care of you.” You feel him squeeze your hand. You turn towards him despite your sore neck and notice the mess of blood on his pristine white uniform, “I soiled your jacket…” You manage to say exhausted, “It is quite alright, cha’cah.” He caresses your forehead with the tips of his fingers. “Thank you… Thank you for coming to rescue me.” You cry with your last strength, “I will travel through the entire universe for you.” He says so lowly you barely hear him “I will shine a light on this situation, do not worry my dear. I will find the truth.” You drift off into unconsciousness without another word.

This is a pious lie, you don’t need to know all the truth. You don’t need to know he fabricated false proofs of your culpability, you don’t need to know he waited outside the locker room as you got beaten up. You don’t need to know he wanted to teach you a lesson for what you’ve done to him. This is not necessary to your future couple’s happiness.

@bluechiss @blueninjablade3 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

[georgi-girl]

UglyDolls Movie Analysis.

Edit: added more content.

So, I wasn’t interested in UglyDolls when it first came out. I’d never heard of the toy line it’s based on and it looked like just another “beauty is on the inside” message cranked out by hypocritical Hollywood. But recently, I’ve finally got around to watching it and it’s not just about looks.

It’s about disability.

The movie takes place in an automated, possibly magical toy factory where different types of dolls are put together; pink rag dolls, grey teddy bears, red birds, and featureless humanoid fashion dolls known as “pretties”. Every toy is scanned and any one that has imperfections gets tossed down a shoot and sent to “Uglyville”. This is just like how disabled children are abandoned or killed by their parents when they’re born.

Uglyville is essentially a paradise with endless celebrations and all the junk food you can eat. The leader Ox (voice by Blake Shelton) tells everyone that the “Big World” of humans isn’t real, and everyone has pretty much lost interest in leaving. All except Moxie (voiced by Kelly Clarkson) a short and stumpy ragdoll who wants a human so badly, she runs away through the shoot, with her friends tagging along. Her friends include a grey blobby guy and a red bat. They end up with the pretties in the Institute of Perfection where the dolls are trained in surviving the Big World before going through a portal that sends them to their ideal child. This place is run by exposition bots and a scanner gate that assigns the dolls their appearance, name, and even careers. (Everyone is something slash model).

There, the Uglies meet Lou, (voiced by Nick Jonas) the most perfect doll and leader of the institute who tells everyone, through song, that being ugly is bad and that kids don’t want ugly toys. (Shows what he knows) They also meet Mandy, (voiced by Janelle Monae) the one doll who's nice to them and who hides the fact that she needs glasses. Tangent: I don’t know if it’s my place to say this since I’m white. It is so nice to see a black woman get portrayed as feminine and friendly and have her own character arc outside of helping the main character.

Anyway, Moxie and her friends stay, and Lou allows it, just to make himself look more benevolent. The dolls are trained to avoid getting messy or damaged (reasonable hazards for toys) and prepare for a real-world simulation called The Gauntlet. As hard as the Ugly dolls work, Lou keeps sabotaging them. He also sends a trio of girls to spy on Uglyville and kidnap Ox.

It turns out, Ox used to live in Perfection after landing there by accident. But he failed the program, learned that toys like them, rejects, are originally meant to end up in the recycling bin where they’re burned in the incinerator. Ox kept the ugly dolls sheltered in a place they’d never want to leave because he was afraid of them facing rejection. Thats also something lots of parents of disabled kids do. This news floors Moxie. She and the others never knew there was anything wrong with them. Not until it’s cruelty pointed out. As Lou tells her, “they were never meant to exist”. Eugenics much?

The uglies return to their home and break the news to the others. Everyone falls into despair; it’s one thing to never find your soulmate, it’s another to be told that nobody wants you. But then Mandy arrives, telling Moxie that she should run the gauntlet anyway because thanks to Moxie’s sweet affirmation, she feels encouraged to wear her glasses with pride. And they share a beautiful duet about how there will always be people who give who flack for being yourself, but you should be yourself anyway. There’s only so much you can do with the body you’re born with. And I love the trend of animated films saying that perfection is overrated. Encanto, Turning Red, the latest Trolls movie all have this message. And it’s good. Progress and self-betterment are great, but not when they come at a personal cost of conforming to someone else’s unreasonable standards. Moxies’ hope is restored. Just in time for Lou to have them both kidnapped and thrown in the incinerator. The other uglies save them, and they enter the gauntlet. Lou enters as well just to make sure they lose.

They have to go through life-size human house and dodge obstacles. At this point, I’m wondering who exactly is in charge of this toy factory and how they can afford all this crazy machinery.

While the pretty dolls focus on staying clean and looking out for themselves, the Uglies focus on having fun and being loving. They go back and help those who’ve fallen behind, they befriend the mechanical dog and mechanical baby they encounter. They choose to lose together rather than win alone. This ends up helping them pass in while Lou, who actually made it through the house, ends up failing.

While the audience isn't surprised by this, everyone else is. Perfect Lou failed at something. This triggers a breakdown in which Lou reveals that he isn't a real doll, he's a prototype. He can't leave the factory or be purchased by a child. Big kudus to whomever came up with this plot twist because this explains so much about Lous' character. Of course he's insensitive towards others. Of course he can't handle being played with. Whatever love-and-be-loved instinct the other dolls got, he didn't get it. But he still wants to go to the Big World. And that led him to resent the others, especially the Uglies, who can go through the portal despite their imperfections. In a way, Lou himself is disabled. But he could never admit it. And that's what leads to his downfall. He destroys the portal to the Big World and gets thrown in the very washer that he kept sending the Ugly Dolls to. A lot of fans are disappointed that he doesn't get redeemed in the end, I totally get that. But to be redeemed, you have to want to be redeemed. Lou just wanted everyone to forgive him immediately. Plus, he's still alive in the end, so his arc has an open ending.

The dolls work together to repair the portal, and set up a new system in which their communities live together and go back and forth through the portal so they can hang out whenever their humans are asleep.

And at the very last scene, Moxie meets her kid, a little girl with bad teeth like hers. Believe it or not, kids want disabled toys. There are Barbies with blindness and albinism, there are baby dolls with Downs Syndrome, there's and old man who crochets dolls with vitiligo patches. A girl in an online video painted a facial birthmark on her doll to match her moms' facial birthmark. I myself keep toys with missing limbs and chewed-up faces. Representation matters. And it's good that companies are finally acknowledging that. Even when they sometimes do a bad job at it.

It should also be noted that while the Pretties supposedly have it better, the Uglies live better, with a community that values joy and friendship and individuality. That really drives home the message that differences should be accepted and celebrated, not ignored of erased. (Just like that other animated musical starring Kelly Clarkson…)

One last thing, while the movie is officially the property of Universal, it was financed and worked on by two Chinese company. A movie about dolls, made in China. Brilliant.

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Fire/Fear

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner | Rated Explicit | Words: 8.4k

Warnings: Language, smut, passing out

Summary: A hurt/comfort fic that turns into soft smut where the fires onstage are entirely too hot, Sam becomes overprotective, and Danny has to get permission from a doctor to canoodle with his boyfriend.

Written for, in collaboration with, and edited by @gretavanfreaky

Author's Note(s): PLEASE let me know if you don't want to be on the taglist for Sanny fics or other slash fics; I know this isn't everyone's jam, so I don't want to be the one to tag you in things you don't want to read. You can stay on the general taglist, I'll just take you off any Sanny works! Enjoy this fic that has been sitting dormant in my Google Docs for a year (don't worry, I edited it first)! Also, I'm going to fix my Masterlist links and then try to finish the Danny x Reader "Stroke Me" by Billy Squier fic!

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

Sam had really been into the pyrotechnics this tour.

Everyone always thought that Josh was the pyromanic, but Sam had always given him a run for his money when it came to the admiration for fire, heat, danger, the pure destructive power that was just so damn beautiful and wily.

But Sam was not one to wax poetic - that was definitely Josh’s area of expertise. 

See, Sam was into the pyrotechnics this tour, but also…

Danny.

Or more specifically, Danny and his proximity to the flames and the resulting hot, sweaty, beast of a boyfriend who gleamed a soft orange in the reflection of the fire on his sweat for Sam’s viewing pleasure. Many a show had Sam been distracted by the way rivulets of water would run down his body (often shirtless half-way through the show just from the sweltering temperatures, which was another bonus) when he took rushed, poorly-aimed swigs from his bottle, or the picture of Danny, drumsticks raised high and a smile on his face as he was surrounded by flames. And, as strange as it sounded, something about the smell of smoke and Danny was just…infinitely hot to Sam.

Not to mention – in the name of saving water (save the Earth and all) - the shared showers afterwards.

But as incredibly sexy as his boyfriend was, how the fire made him light up, and how he loved both components of that equation, Sam would have nixed the idea of even a lighter on stage before Josh had even submitted the idea to their tour manager and props guy. It wouldn’t have even crossed the threshold of conception had he known that it would end in a crash and a few screams and the leading thought of holy fuck did we accidentally just set my boyfriend on fire?

Luckily, they hadn’t. But, here, laying in bed with a peaceful Danny in the aftermath of the incident, Sam couldn’t recall what exactly had happened, or if he’d been the one screaming, or whether the scuffed paint and bent tuner peg on his bass could have been avoided.

All he could remember was that even through the smoke and heat and fire, the fear had been icy cold and skin-meltingly hot all at the same time, and he’d thought he was going to throw up when a bunch of stage hands rushed over with water and towels to where Danny was usually poised like a greek god.

The big man stirred against Sam; the doctors said that his body, due to a lack of sleep and a built-up exhaustion, would take a little longer to recover and come to than normal. And sure enough, it had been hours - 3, to be exact - since that awful event and since Danny had been moved at Sam’s unwavering command back to their hotel room, where he’d cranked up the AC, put pillows under Danny’s feet, and had three gatorades and five water bottles waiting on the bedside table.

One big sigh left Danny’s lips and fanned across Sam’s neck. “You haven’t showered yet, have you?”

Finally, after what felt like an excruciating lifetime, Danny was awake. 

Sam grabbed a gatorade immediately and turned in his spot so that he could face Danny on the bed, unable to meet his eyes properly as he snapped the lid off the bottle. “Stop commenting on my personal hygiene and drink, fire boy.”

Not even a hello.

Perhaps it was the lack of Sam’s usual jests and snap-backs that alerted Danny to the fact that something was wrong – still, at least – but he drained half of the bottle in one go regardless of Sam’s demand, sipping on it more when Sam fixed him with a glare that said ‘you’d better finish that.’ “You know, you don’t have to–”

“Do you remember what happened?”

They spoke at the same time, but Danny let Sam go first, quick to playfully roll his eyes but always the gentleman. Usually the gentleman – ask Sam on any given night and he might just give you an overexaggerated wink and smirk. “Yes, Sam. I remember everything that happened up until the point that I actually passed out. I don’t have amnesia, you dork.”

Sam scoffed – he was no expert on the mechanics of what really happened when one passes out. Not when it wasn’t alcohol-related, at least, and even then, he’d left (most) of those days behind in his younger years. But, you know - fuck him for being a concered and invested boyfriend, apparently.

“Oh, well, sorry I’m not in the habit of passing out, I guess,” Sam snarked back. Danny just laughed good-naturedly at him and placed a sloppy kiss on Sam’s cheek. But Sam was curious. It was already established that he’d been too hopped-up on adrenaline to properly remember the exact order of events, and he wanted Danny’s perspective. “Just for shits and giggles,” he ventured, and Danny hummed for him to go on, “uh…what did happen? I mean, from where you were sitting,” Sam clarified quickly - again, a little embarrassed of his reaction and inability to remember the entirety of the event himself.

Danny finished off the bottle and battled with Sam for a moment when Sam tried to replace it with a water bottle before he even had the chance to throw the empty one in his hand away. “Chill the fuck out for a second, Sam,” Danny giggled, trying to push away the bottle without spilling any of the contents on either of them. “I just drank that gatorade in like…two minutes flat. Give me a break.”

“The doctor said you have to get fluids in you!” Sam insisted, forcefully pushing the water on Danny, but not exactly wrestling the man for fear of…well, he wasn’t quite sure he could place the fear yet. “And gatorade has so much sugar - you need water.”

Finally, Danny grabbed hold of Sam’s wrist tightly and stopped his attack, looking him in the eyes and seeing remnants of that worry Sam had felt on stage. “I will,” he promised sweetly, taking the bottle because he knew Sam’s intentions were pure, but…not very well executed. “Just, on my time and not shoved down my throat, please.”

Sam grumbled his assent, but kept an eagle eye on the water, making sure Danny didn’t put it down.

“Now,” Danny continued once they settled back down, “I started feeling a little weird after my solo.”

…

The show had started off like many of the other ones on the tour had. Not that it wasn’t memorable in its own way, or boring whatsoever, but - doing relatively the same sets every few days created a nice little flow that was conducive to the beat Danny could put out. It was what he was best at, after all - consistency and rhythm, the heartbeat and drum. 

Besides, Josh’s antics could never allow for a boring show, and with Sammy right by his side, Danny could pick a moment in time at random and would gladly live in it forever - tour, venue, song, crowd, or day be damned.

…

“Such a sap,” sighed Sam. But internally, he was swooning. He was a big swooner, but he’d never let Danny get away with the cheesy stuff without just a little bit of ribbing.

“Shut up and let me tell the story.”

“Drink your water.”

“Sam.”

…

So the show had started off well, and the crowd was alive and Josh was inciting even more energy that Danny pushed to match – he was feeding off of the exhilarating feeling of giving the people what they wanted, hearing them chant his name, the drive to prove just how good he was and how he contributed to the band.

It didn’t occur to him until his thirst nearly distracted him from his kit that he’d forgotten to drink water throughout the entire first half of the set.

And he was going to - he was - but then Jake’s ‘WAH’ pedal went out and he was informed via his in-ear that his solo was moving up a spot while the techs worked their magic. He didn’t have time to crack the bottle open and forgot about the water, too focused on his job and finishing the song and making the transition into his solo as seamless as possible. 

Did his eyesight go fuzzy here and there? Yeah. But his focus on the kit in front of him was unflappable - ultimately, he was no stranger to fuzzy vision every now and then when he played hard. All he knew was that he was just really fucking hot on top of everything with the periodic explosive columns of flames at his back.

It was only after he raised his sticks to let the anticipation of the beat to the next song lengthen that he caught himself from dropping them in a sudden loss of strength. Again, though - they were approaching the last stretch of the tour and were all hanging onto their mortal bodies as best they could. Fatigue in all forms was to be expected. Perhaps not in the middle of a show, but who really had control over that?

So he went on, and water was pushed to the wayside again when Jake pulled the ‘faster, faster, faster’ gag that had been running since the day Danny had stepped foot in their garage with a pair of drumsticks in his hand - to test his compatibility and chops as a drummer, could Danny actually listen? Could he pick up on the slightest tempo change and keep the band centered?

He could, and Danny would do it back every so often - pick the pace up and grin watching the others adjust - but this time, he was struggling. He was feeling a little sick halfway into their little game, and he wanted to slow down, but it wasn’t like he was gonna lose to Jake.

…

“So it was Jake’s fault,” Sam accused with a frown, throwing the gatorade bottle that had never made it off the bed in the direction of the wastebasket on the other side of the room.

He missed.

“No, it’s not Jake’s fault,” Danny said as he finally took a swig of the water, raising his brows in embellishment as if to say, ‘see? Drinking,’ to Sam’s concern. “It was mine for being stupid enough to not drink water at all during the show. Rookie move.”

Sam took one of Danny’s hands, tender and soft despite his calluses, and started massaging the muscles and joints that helped get them to where they were today. It was a little out of the ordinary - not to say that Sam neglected Danny at all, but this little touch of intimacy was more direct than Sam usually tried to make it. Danny didn’t say anything of it in fear that Sam would pull back; he quite loved moments like this, and he hoped his sigh of satisfaction and pleasure was just enough to get that message across without embarrassing Sam.

“I mean, yeah, maybe it was something a noob would do, but you’re not allowed to take the blame since you almost fucking died,” Sam declared, only a slight waver to the last word. He didn’t actually think that Danny had almost died, but he also didn’t want to think about where they would be if the flames had caught Danny’s fluffy hair, or the material of his outfit, and they actually did set his boyfriend on fire.

Danny gently booped Sam’s nose with the cold, damp bottle in his hand. “I didn’t ‘almost fucking die’,” Danny responded with a chuckle. “And it doesn’t always have to be someone’s fault, Sammy. These things happen. You know that it’s just part of the trade - the heat, the sweat, and…sometimes the fainting, I guess.”

Sam did know that - after all, he’d been videoed struggling at that stupid-hot show in Texas, and then there was that one in Cali that had him all out of sorts, and the…well, in any capacity, Sam knew that it was a part of the trade. Just, maybe not for Danny. Because if something happened to Danny, Sam was embarrassingly dependent on the man for support during their tours - especially since they’d been together together.

The twins had each other to lean on, and Sam had Danny - in all regards.

Sam wiped the bead of water that came from the condensation off his nose. “Well, we didn’t need the fire to make it worse. I’m still blaming both the twins now,” he pouted. “Josh for having the fire in the first place and Jake for egging you on.”

Danny laughed, and the sound vibrated from his chest into Sam’s, from his mouth into Sam’s ears, and it was wonderful. “I think you just want to be mad at someone, and you’re used to it being them,” he teased, even though there was likely some truth in that statement. “I see the way you look at me during shows - I don’t think you want to hate the fire. Plus, if I remember correctly, you were the fire’s biggest supporter.”

The soft, wispy feeling of Sam’s hair against his cheeks and chin made Danny sputter and spit, but Sam kept his proximity, still putting pressure into Danny’s hand as he grumbled, “Well, feelings change. It assaulted my boyfriend and if anything’ll get you on my bad side, that’s it.” Danny wasn’t sure if that particular concept applied to only the fire, but Sam seemed to be in a mood, so he didn’t comment. “So, what happened next?”

Danny, remembering that he’d been telling a story, relaxed into Sam’s expert masseuse skills and continued.

…

It had been Jake to notice first, though. He’d looked back with a smirk after a few beats into the next song, but the smirk had dropped off immediately once he’d caught sight of Danny’s ashy complexion, noticeable even in the firelight. 

He had been a little surprised Sam didn’t notice either, but “Caravel” was his time to shine, and he must have been working the crowd at the front of the stage.

Danny’s gaze had seemed a little glazed over and just not quite right when Jake did catch his eye to get an ‘ok’. But Danny had given it to him regardless, and he didn’t blame Jake for taking it at face value in the moment - he knew that Jake would have checked in on him at his next convenience, but solos weren’t to be trifled with.

He’d tried to push through the sudden onslaught of blurry vision and nausea and dizziness, but when he stood up to finish out the main set, he knew he was going down in that instant. It was all he could do to at least try to sit back down and lean forward, hoping that it would keep him from pitching back anywhere close to the fire, and his last thought before it went dark?

He should have drank some water.

…

“I should have known,” Sam said quietly. “I should have been paying attention.”

Danny felt for him - because if it had been Sam who’d passed out instead of him, he’d feel the same way. Why hadn’t he seen the signs? What could he have done differently? What if, what if, what if.

He drained the last of the water bottle and pitched it over in the same direction the gatorade had gone, uncaring if it hit its mark or not, and drew Sam in for a cuddle. Sam clutched at him, lightly brushing his hand down Danny’s back, just glad to have him there in their bed and not in a hospital. 

“There’s nothing you could have done, sweetheart,” Danny insisted gently. It wasn’t often that he called Sam petnames, but his boy seemed to need the extra comfort at the moment. “It happened so fast - literally within the span of like, two songs.”

“Yeah. Two songs I wasn’t looking at you for.” Sam sighed and shifted his weight to his elbow, drawing himself up so that he could look down at Danny with a severe expression. “I’m not letting you out of my sight for the rest of tour,” he warned, but Danny just laughed at him and pulled him the rest of the way on top of his body.

Two things happened, then. 

Sam started frantically struggling to get off of Danny and, in the process, his hand pressed down on Danny’s bladder – which was now full of two bottles of fluids – who was suddenly very aware of how badly he needed to pee.

“Okaaaaaay,” Danny hissed, covering his crotch and rolling Sam off at the same time before he hit another extremity, “what the fuck, Sam?”

“I don’t want to hurt you! That’s gonna make you too hot!” Sam huffed, standing up so that he was completely off the bed. 

Danny took a deep breath and shot Sam a small, disgruntled glare and trudged to the bathroom. “What ever happened to me being the hurt one? Shouldn’t I get what I want?” he grumbled, pouting and not even trying to hide it. “And not getting punched in the groin?”

They bickered from separate rooms as Danny relieved himself and Sam gingerly got back onto the bed, sitting against the pillows instead of laying down. Danny frowned when he saw the change in position, but got in bed anyways, plastering himself against Sam’s side in protest as he draped his arm around his waist and let it hang heavy there.

When Sam didn’t say anything, Danny decided to make the ending of his story clear. “So, yeah. That’s what happened,” he said. “I remember waking up once in the green room, but passed out pretty quickly again, and then we were here.” Sam nodded and sighed again, and Danny took his hand, his own anxiety growing at the silence. “Hey…I love you,” he said quietly, abruptly; he was a little bit worried about Sam’s lack of response and wanted the assurance of his voice – Sam was still trying to find his comfort, and Danny wanted to contribute as much as he could. 

Even as crazy about the other as they were, the two men didn’t often exchange the words unless they were whispered into skin after sex or right before they fell asleep, when their bodies were curled around each other and created a space for feelings to spill out in an exhale just before they lost consciousness.

It hadn’t been Sam’s intention to cause Danny unease in the wake of his silence, but in the retelling of the events leading up to it, he’d begun piecing together what happened immediately after. That’s what he’d been thinking of – that’s what he’d been deliberating on.

“I love you, too,” Sam returned, planting a small kiss on the back of Danny’s hand and gratefully accepting Danny’s form of reassurance.

There was a small squeeze from Danny’s fingers that caught Sam’s attention, and he lifted his head to meet Danny’s eyes. “Your turn.”

“My turn to do what?”

“Story time,” Danny said, as if it was obvious. “I told my end, I wanna know what happened after I passed out.”

Sam tried not to blush, but since his memory was coming back, he really couldn’t help it. “I don’t really remember much,” he said vaguely. “I mean…you passed out, we took care of you, and that’s it.”

Danny was quiet for a second, and Sam looked up to see if he’d bought his half-truth.

He hadn’t.

“Bull. Shit.” Danny intoned, letting his hand go to cross his arms. “I’ll just ask Jake or Josh tomorrow if you don’t tell me. Come on, Sam - I deserve to know.”

Sam thought about how he’d feel if he’d been the one doing the passing out, and - yeah…he’d want to know, too. So, he sighed and thought back to the bang, crash, scream, and panic.

…

Danny did pass out forward – right into his kit. 

That was where the bang and the crash came from - Sam had looked because that wasn’t part of the show, and if Danny was gonna improvise, it was gonna be at least a little bit rhythmic, not the all-in-one drum slam noise that came from his direction. And where he’d been expecting Danny to be grinning at his joke, maybe blushing because he dropped something by mistake, he was met with the sight of the listless body of his boyfriend slumped over his kit, panicked stage hands yelling and rushing over to him.

“Danny!” 

There was no hesitation in Sam’s action when he was faced with the decision of the man behind the drums or the call of the crowd. He threw the strap of his bass off his shoulder without a second thought, not even concerned with the grating, cringe-producing sound of it hitting and slapping against the hard stage floor, feedback scratching from his speakers.

As soon as he was within distance of Danny, he had his hands on him, another addition to the wet rags and ice packs that had materialized in the crew’s hands. “What’s wrong? What the fuck happened? Why is he– is he okay?”

The twins were quickly by his side, asking the same questions, stress evident on their faces. The medic on staff was shooing people back, snapping at them to give Danny some air, but Sam refused to leave his side, selfish as it may have been.

She bent over the unconscious man, feeling his pulse and completing a quick once over as the stretcher was brought over. “I think…this looks like heat syncope,” she said, feeling Danny’s pulse and face. “Heat exhaustion. Come on, let’s get him on a stretcher and off the stage - he needs to get away from the fire and lights.”

A few people began easing him back and lining him up with the hard, orange stretcher many of the venues came equipped with, and Josh put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Go with him. We’ll do damage control and find you soon.”

Sam’s tunnel vision opened up a little bit to include the murmurs of the crowd, hesitant titters flowing throughout the big venue. “Yeah,” he said, nodding, “thank you.”

He followed the line of people off-stage, catching a few comforting words coming out of Josh’s mouth assuring the crowd that Danny was alright and that he’d just gotten a little too hot. But he lost them as they got further away from the stage.

“I told you that he needed more ventilation back there four shows ago,” the medic said sharply to the stage manager. The stage manager was quick to defend himself, saying that ventilation other than a fan was practically impossible unless she wanted him to rearrange the entire venue. “The fire was a bad idea,” she mumbled, obviously trying to keep that opinion to herself with two members of the band (if you counted the one who was passed out cold), but Sam still caught it.

The fucking fire.

The culprit, and by proxy - Josh.

Back in the green room, with cold rags covering almost every inch of skin Danny had to offer without being indecent, Sam listened to the medic arguing with the tour manager about hospitalization. If it was serious enough, whether or not they’d even admit him, if they should go now or wait until he woke up - but ultimately decided that they’d see where they stood once Danny woke up.

“We should leave him here, try not to move him.”

As soon as the suggestion was thrown out, Sam immediately vetoed it. “No. The venue needs to close and we don’t know when he’s gonna wake up. Plus the A/C is spotty - the hotel will be more comfortable.” He left out the small component of added privacy back at the hotel - that they’d be in their room where there weren’t crew members continuously walking through and Sam’s concern and his yearning to touch and cuddle and mother his boyfriend would be out of reach of prying eyes.

“Sam–” the medic tried to reason.

Sam didn’t want to be disrespectful - he knew that the medic had a much more extensive knowledge of what Danny was going through at the moment, but Danny was gonna wake up, and he knew his boyfriend would rather wake up in a private room rather than one where he’d feel as though he was imposing. 

“No,” Sam said again. “It’s not like he has a head injury. He’s safe to move and I know that’ll be harder to do than leaving him here and I’m sorry about that, but –”

He was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder and a voice at his ear. “Sam, stop it.” Jake had come into the room without Sam noticing and had seen the beginnings of his tantrum. “They’re thinking of Danny. Don’t try to make it seem like they aren’t – we’re all worried.”

The stern, scolding manner of Jake’s voice ticked Sam off in just the right way. Maybe he was overreacting, but who could really blame him? He was about to snap back when the door opened again.

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” Josh’s voice filtered in from where he’d entered, and Sam turned from one twin to the other to poke his brother aggressively in the chest, garnering a shocked, very confused, and a little bit indignant reaction from Josh. “Hey!”

“It was too much fire, asshole!”

Even Sam was a little taken aback at the hostility in his voice. He needed to tone it down or he’d create another problem for himself – he knew he wasn’t actually angry at Josh, but the stress was getting to him and his brain had latched onto that idea of the fire being too much and, subsequently, Josh’s request back when the tour was still being planned for, when he quoted, “As much fire as fucking possible.”

Sam sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose, putting his hand up in surrender and in a silent apology, to which Josh nodded infinitesimally. Sam was grateful for the unspoken language that all four of them had managed to perfect with the time they spent in each others’ presence. “We’re not Metallica,” he said, softer, with a croak and a swallow that punctuated the end. “We don’t need this.”

Josh looked a little guilty and Sam knew he’d feel bad later.

…

“Do you?”

Sam knew what Danny was asking and bobbled his head. “A little bit. I think he knew that I was just stressed. A little frantic.” 

Danny’s arms wrapped tighter around Sam and bodily moved them down the bed so that they could snuggle, despite Sam’s weak protests. “I’m actually a little bit cold, now,” Danny reasoned, slipping a hand underneath Sam’s shirt to rub his thumb against his ribs. “I think maybe you should apologize.” Sam scoffed at the prospect, but Danny continued, “It’s not his fault. Or the fire’s. Really.”

The groan that came from Sam’s mouth was long and whiny. “But it contributed to it,” Sam stressed. He knew Danny was right, even if he didn’t want to admit it. So, with one last groan, he turned away from Danny and reached for the hotel phone.

“You have a cell phone, you know,” Danny said amusedly. “What if he’s asleep?”

Sam rejected the concept. “As if. And if he is, then he’ll wake up. Also, you need food in your stomach. Want a smoothie or something? I can call down to room service.” Danny was about to answer when Sam raised his eyebrows over his shoulder. “But no fast food stuff. Or soup. Or pizza. Too much salt - that’ll just dehydrate you.”

Danny pouted. “But I wanted Dairy Queen. And the kitchen will be closed by now - we’ll have to order out.”

“Fine,” Sam conceded. “But choose something else. Please,” he tacked on at Danny’s unimpressed stare.

“Yes, mother.” They eventually settled for a couple of salads from a late-night restaurant nearby that would be delivered by the hotel to their room. As Danny was placing the order (and sneaking a large order of fries to share in), Sam called Josh’s room, listening for two tones before the man picked up.

The conversation was short, and Josh said that he understood, admitting that even he hadn’t been thinking of the heat-related consequences having that much fire on stage could bring. But Danny took over the phone to further reassure Josh that he didn’t blame him, and that for the last time, it wasn’t the fucking fire’s fault, Sam.

Once Sam had done all the apologizing he felt he could physically force out of his mouth (which wasn’t much), they hung up the phone and Danny had yet another water bottle shoved in his face.

“I’m not continuing the story until you drink,” Sam warned, and this wasn’t a hill Danny wanted to die on, so he broke the seal and drank. Once satisfied with the amount, Sam sat cross legged across from Danny and kept talking.

…

No one really wanted to argue with Sam in that moment about where Danny would go, so the medic chewed her lip and gave the okay to transport Danny into the van, still strapped to the stretcher, and then to the hotel with the warning that she’d be coming to check on him every hour, and if he wasn’t awake within six hours, she’d call an ambulance.

Sam had readily agreed and stayed right by Danny’s side the entire time, even scrunching himself between the front seat and the back on the ground so that he could study Danny’s face and make sure he didn’t wake up suddenly.

Staff had allowed them to use a back entrance to get Danny up to their room real hush-hush, which was nice because Sam wasn’t sure how he’d react to someone asking what happened, and he didn’t want to take that chance.

It was up the elevator, to the room, and into bed, which was when Sam had taken the initiative to stock the table with drinks, hike up the A/C, and actually listen to what the medic told him to do when he argued – passive aggressively and on the down-low – against her staying in the room with them until Danny woke up.

Again, he just wanted a little bit of time alone with his boyfriend so that he could process everything that had happened without other people around to pick apart his mannerisms or actions or words or feelings. 

He wanted it to be just him and Danny.

“As soon as he wakes up, call me, make sure he gets some fluids in him, and don’t let him get up and move around a whole lot. That means,” she said, looking away from Sam’s eyes and pausing to think about the best way to phrase it, “no…strenuous activity–” Sam had to bite back a small smile at the implication, but was also quite offended that she seemed to be under the impression that he would jump Danny’s bones the first chance he got whether he was hurt or sick or otherwise not in a ‘jump-your-bones’ state, “--until I can clear him. Capeesh?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Sam agreed, standing awkwardly next to the bed, waiting to get in until she left.

Fortunately, she took her leave then, letting the door click shut behind her as Sam finally took the opportunity to lay himself along Danny’s side - not quite touching him in fear of the shared body heat - and zone out to process.

He was jerked out of his own little world a while later by a knock at the door, not realizing he’d taken Danny’s hand in his. A little unwilling to leave Danny’s side, but still knowing it was probably the twins, Sam got up, pushed the handle down, and opened the door. He’d been right – Jake and Josh walked in immediately, taking in Danny still passed out on the bed.

“How’s he been?”

Sam glanced toward the bed as well. “Conked out good. Hasn’t even so much as twitched.”

The twins hummed, but there wasn’t anything else to say except what the medic had told him, and that information was passed along quickly.

“I talked to the stage manager,” Josh said. “He’s making arrangements for a couple of big fans to be brought out at the next venue for him so he’ll have a little more air flow. The only problem they’re working with is how not to catch the smoke and create a new problem.”

Sam blinked. “I’m sorry, the smoke?” The twins glanced at each other like they’d been expecting this (which, in all honesty, they probably were). “We’re not having any more fire, Josh. Not after this.”

“Sam, the tour would lose so much money if we don’t use those things,” Jake reasoned. “The renting company isn’t going to give us a refund for the last, what - five shows?”

But Sam wasn’t having it. “We are not using them. They can do the math and take it out of my fucking paycheck, but I won’t play a single goddamn bass line if I see so much as a wisp of smoke coming from those things.”

Not wanting to get into it, and knowing that Sam was still in a state that wasn’t going to be conducive to collaboration or reason, Josh put his hands up. “How about we wait until Danny wakes up, and we can talk about it as a band. He should be included in this conversation.”

Jake nodded in agreement, but Sam just glared at them. “Fine. We’ll talk later. But if we’re not gonna talk now, then get out of my room.”

He felt a little immature saying that, but he was riled up again, and that was bad vibes when it came to a still passed out Danny. Sam didn’t want any of that negative energy in the room.

The twins rolled their eyes but stepped out, leaving Sam with the low hum of the A/C and Danny’s breathing once he got close enough.

“They’re being selfish,” Sam muttered to Danny, knowing he couldn’t hear him. “But I doubt you’ll be on my side when you wake up, either, you selfless bastard. We’ll have to talk.”

And then, disregarding his previous restraint in regard to skin-to-skin contact, he wrapped Danny in a hug and waited for him to wake up.

…

Danny was incredibly, undeniably, helplessly in love with this man.

Pulling Sam into his lap, Danny kissed him, long and deep, and murmured, “Thank you for taking care of me, Sammy,” against his lips.

A light flush covered Sam’s throat, and he gave Danny a peck back. “Always,” he said, but made no move to take the conversation nor the action further, despite Danny’s hands – having fast switched to roaming Sam’s sides under his shirt – obviously itching to progress their state into one of more undress, but waiting for a go-ahead which Sam did not give.

All of the sudden, Danny’s hands stopped. “Wait. Didn’t you say the doc told you to call her as soon as I woke up?” 

Sam made a face and shrugged, leaning into Danny’s body. “Yeah. But ‘as soon as he wakes up’ is subjective, in my opinion.”

Danny’s snort shook his whole body. “Um, I don’t think she’ll see it that way. Wanna call her before she comes up here herself and sees me awake?”

“Not really,” Sam answered. He didn’t give any further explanation, but Danny picked up on the protective theme throughout the story. Sam didn’t want other people taking care of him - he could do that himself. 

And Danny could bear with that – a few more minutes to themselves before they’d inevitably have to deal with the small shitstorm he’d accidentally created. Plus, with Sam in his lap, and energized now that he had a few hours of sleep under his belt, Danny’s mind quickly turned dirty and he resumed his previous quest of getting Sam’s shirt off, remembering that the doc had said something about this exact scenario when he looked at Sam for permission and was once again avoided.

“Wait,” he muttered again, even though he was the only one actually physically doing anything that required waiting, lips having been drawn in by the proximity of Sam’s neck, “so does that mean we have to have permission to fuck, now?”

Sam laughed at the abrupt change in topic and tune, humoring Danny only for a moment before shutting him down. “Just this time. But yes. And also no.”

“No?” Danny was interested. He figured if they’d already broken one rule, why not break them all? Classic Sammy mentality that Danny could actually get behind for once.

“Not tonight, Danny. We’re keeping things PG. Maybe PG-13.” And then, the record scratch stop. The rejection came as both a surprise and a conundrum for Danny until Sam’s next words. “You’re…fragile.”

The offense that Danny took had nothing to do with being perceived as fragile and everything to do with the concept that he was too fragile for sex.

He sputtered at Sam. “I’m not fragile! Babe, come on,” he whined. He and Sam both knew he would never coerce Sam into doing things he didn’t want to do, but Danny also knew that his hesitation had nothing to do with Sam not wanting sex and everything to do with his fear, evident in the way Sam’s expression bobbled from the burgeoning wisps of desire and back to stubborn concern, which Danny needed to address. He rolled on top of Sam before he could process it, wrapping Sam’s arms around his neck. “Feel me, Sammy. I’m not warm anymore. The hottest person in here is you,” he teasingly flirted, “are you sure I shouldn’t call someone for that?”

Sam rolled his eyes with a small smile on his face, but did take the opportunity to gently skate his fingers across Danny’s skin. He was right; there was no trace of the unnatural heat to Danny’s skin that he’d felt at the venue, and Danny had drank two water bottles and a gatorade by now. But still—“I don’t want to be the reason you break again, Daniel,” he maintained. “I don’t.”

Danny shook his head, giving Sam an Eskimo kiss at the same time. “You won’t, babe. Look,” he cajoled, rolling his hips smoothly into Sam’s, “I can show you just how tough I can be.” 

Despite his efforts, Sam just tightened his arms and used the leverage to pull Danny down, his weight on top of Sam something he’d been wanting all night but had been a little afraid to do. “No, Daniel. Because I swear, if you pass out while you’re literally inside me,” he warned in Danny’s ear, “we’ll both be celibate until temperatures drop below 70 degrees.”

The laughter Danny let out vibrated into Sam’s neck, making him shiver. “Then you fuck me. It’s not like it doesn’t work both ways.” Then after a second, but before Sam could respond, “And you couldn’t keep your hands off me that long.”

Sam pushed Danny off with a snort. “Oh, fuck off. I totally could.” But the protest was weak and they were both aware neither of them wanted the other’s hands off of them for any extended period of time. “And passing out when I’m inside of you is fucking worse.”

Danny grinned. “Not even a little bit flattering?”

“Nope,” Sam said, and then looked at his watch. Well, where a watch would be if he was actually wearing one. “Oh, look at the time! I’d better call the doc,” Sam sighed dramatically, and then actually got his phone and called her while Danny scoffed and pouted beside him. “She’ll be here within a few minutes,” Sam said victoriously, then eyed Danny’s half-mast. “You might want to calm down.”

Danny was still muttering in discontent when the medic arrived, doing her thing, checking his vitals, and making sure everything was back to the way it was supposed to be.

“Well,” she said, wiping her thermometer off with an alcohol wipe after retrieving it from underneath Danny’s tongue, “all seems to be normal. I’d say definitely no hospital required, and you are free to play your next show with the promise that you’ll actually drink water this time,” she said sternly, having glared at him when he told her that was the most likely perpetrator of the whole thing.

“Will do,” Danny agreed charmingly. And then, with a mischievous look towards Sam that Sam didn’t often see without prior prompting from no one other than himself, asked, “And that means I’m cleared for everything else, right?” The medic looked confused until Danny politely clarified, “The uh…the strenuous activities?”

“Oh,” she laughed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “Yeah, that too.”

This time, Danny wore the victorious grin and Sam was the one giving unimpressed looks in Danny’s direction until the woman left. “You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that much,” Sam sighed as he made the first move, pressing on Danny’s chest until he was laid out on the bed once more. “But I guess - since we have the go ahead and you’re so obviously gagging for it…” Danny finally tugged Sam’s shirt up and Sam helped it the rest of the way off, only to yelp when Danny flicked his nipple in retaliation to his quip. “Fucker!” he hissed.

And Danny laughed. “Not until you get the lube, baby,” he grinned, pulling Sam’s hips so that he could grind against him. However, once he’d finished his joke, he settled down for a moment, rubbing Sam’s hips with his thumbs. “You that we don’t actually have to fuck, right? I don’t want you to have to be worried about me, and I’m always down for a nice cuddle, instead.”

Sam scoffed playfully and looked down to where his body was laid atop of Danny’s. “And waste this opportunity now that we’ve gotten the all clear? Absolutely not. Where’d the desperate boy we’ve been seeing tonight go?” he teased, baring his neck to Danny as his boyfriend took advantage of the green light he’d been given and begun placing light kisses to his throat.

Against Sam’s skin, Danny murmured, “Oh, he’s right here, I promise. But, seriously. If you’re gonna fuck me, go get the lube.”

Sam lifted himself off and went to retrieve a tube out of the stash they had, coming back to a naked Danny on the bed (a sight Sam swore he would never get bored of), but only laid it by the pillows as he straddled Danny’s hips again.The room quieted as Sam took Danny’s mouth with his own, sighing into the kisses and reveling in the feeling of Danny’s tongue against his. He loved Danny’s lips - kissing, talking, sucking him off, singing in the shower, whatever – and loved that he got to do this.

Once he’d gotten his fill and Danny’s mouth was left red and a little slick and swollen, Sam smoothed his hands down Danny’s chest, slowly, gently, reverently. He purposefully stayed away from the erogenous zones he knew oh so well, and Danny eventually took issue with that. 

“Sam,” he huffed after the third pass of Sam’s palms on his thighs, dick twitching in anticipation every time they got close and a drop of disappointment marring his face every time he passed it by, “are you gonna touch me or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

While the idea was attractive to Sam, he laced his fingers through Danny’s, peppering kisses over his face and neck. “Shhh, I will,” he hushed, “Let me take care of you. I told you I would, didn’t I? Can’t I?”

Sam stopped to look Danny in the eye, a softness there that Danny had loved since they were kids, when the only thoughts of romance manifested in stuck out tongues and expressions of disgust, and knew that Sam needed this just as much as he did. Perhaps by letting Sam take care of him, he could do the same for Sam.

He nodded, drawing one of his hands out of Sam’s to cup his cheek, the atmosphere still charged, but more tender, now. “You did. You can. Anything you want.”

A sweet smile graced Sam’s lips at the affirmation, and he slid the rest of his clothes off before he finally took Danny in hand, the stimulation making Danny sigh quietly and relax. While he set a slow pace with that hand, Sam reached for the lube again and expertly flipped the cap open with his thumb, readjusting their positions so that his hips were cradled between Danny’s thighs before he left Danny’s dick to slick up his fingers. 

Some people were uncomfortable with quiet sex, trying to fill the awkward moments with moans and words and music and ambiance, but Sam and Danny were not those people.

They made noise when they felt compelled to do so, but in these beginning moments, when the initial touches were being made and their bodies began to sync up and tune into each other, they were content with the sound of skin on skin and the soft breaths of their lover to tell them where they were.

So, when Sam breached Danny’s body with his fingers, and the only sound that came out of Danny’s mouth was another sigh and an audible swallow, he smiled. He knew he was making his boy feel good. He knew he was taking care of him just as he needed to be.

However, while subtlety had its moments, Sam took infinite satisfaction in the sharp sound on the intake of a breath and Danny’s subsequent, “Sammy!” when he hit a good spot. He targeted that spot, then, first with the one finger he had, and then with the addition of another, and watched as he worked his boyfriend into quite a state of wanton desire. It was love, lust, desperation, and a certain brand of dependence born of a healthy relationship and vulnerability that he heard in the way Danny said his name and moved his hips and looked at him with those dark eyes that held so much love and joy.

Sam couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he asked softly, returning an uncharacteristically serious pet name. “I wanna show you…how– how much I…”

For some reason, he couldn’t get the words out without feeling as though he’d break into a monologue. How much he loved Danny. How badly he’d been scared. How much he wanted to take care of him and smother him with affection and spoil him until nothing bad could ever happen to him again.

“Do it, Sammy, love,” Danny encouraged with a kiss to the palm of Sam’s free hand. “Show me.”

Drawing his fingers out and adding more lube to stoke onto himself, Sam made sure nothing would hurt and finally pushed himself into Danny with a low grunt - tight, hot, wet, and his - his, that was whole and healthy and with him now. “I will,” he whispered, “I’ll show you, I promise.”

And Danny wanted to tell him, you already have, but Sam’s hand was on his dick again and Sam’s mouth was on his throat, and Sam’s heart was beating in time with his own and he remembered that this was something Sam needed as well, as an assurance to himself. 

Sam knew Danny understood. Not only did the man’s empathy make sure of that, but all of Sam’s love, fear, and dependence were reflected back to him in Danny. He began moving, pushing in deep and staying there with shallow thrusts so that he could plaster himself to Danny from head to toe with that connection that bridged the gap between them. The man underneath him whispered into Sam’s ear, sweet nothings alongside affirmations and praises.

“You take care of me so well,” Danny breathed, “you’re so good to me, Sammy. No one else could do it the way you do– you’re everything that I could ever need. The only thing.”

Sam nodded, picking up the pace a little bit to scratch that internal itch growing in both of them, trying to give Danny everything he had, everything he wanted. “Yeah,” he answered back, simple as that, knowing that Danny would pick up every unsaid word. “I know, Daniel.”

In the shared spaces that their mouths occupied, the air became damp and warm between the two of them, exhalations fanning across a new sheen of sweat and microscopic drops of moisture forming on each man’s skin. But still, Danny kept his arms firmly around Sam’s torso and Sam never moved from where he’d wedged both of his arms underneath Danny’s armpits, clutching them together via his back and shoulders – heat, at this point, be damned.

When Sam’s breaths became ragged, and his hips snapped forward just a little sharper, trying to bring them both to the edge, Danny started rolling his hips upward to place himself. “Just a little more,” Danny forced out, the knot in his stomach tightening and tightening until with one last, sloppy stroke from the tip of his cock to his balls, he whined, whimpered, and yipped out his pleasure in completion. Letting his orgasm rush through him, Danny buried his face at Sam’s temple as he bucked into Sam’s hand, coating it and his stomach with strings of come.

Sam, too, released his high moans just a minute later - short, desperate, staccato sounds that matched the jerk of hips into Danny as he let himself go. 

Danny stroked Sam’s back as he came down, breathing hard against Danny’s neck before mouthing at the skin there, ‘I love you’s escaping from his throat and his heart and his lungs and soaking into Danny's consciousness.

“I love you, too,” Danny whispered back, not letting Sam pull out nor away and keeping him all to himself. “I love you so fucking much, and I’m sorry I scared you, today.”

But once again, at his admission to guilt, Sam shook his head. “Not your fault. I’m always gonna be scared. I…you know that I need you, too.”

“Yeah. I know.”

The A/C was still turned up to the max, and Danny shivered - his sweat actually working this time and cooling him down quickly. He murmured to Sam, wanting to know if he wanted to take a shower or just get up early and do it in the morning. Sam gently pulled himself out of Danny’s body with a small gasp, and immediately collapsed by his side, wrapping himself around the man in answer to his question.

Danny wasn’t going anywhere.

“Tomorrow,” Sam yawned. “Let’s just rest now.”

And Danny could deal with that.

~~~

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[olderthannetfic]

I think the idea that MCD shouldn’t be a major archive warning alongside rape, GDOV and underage is a misunderstanding of what those archive warnings are for, and that they weren’t originally intended as “trigger warnings” in the way we think of them now, where it’s about shielding people with trauma around those topics. Trigger warnings got their start online on feminist blogs in the mid-late 2000s, which was before online social justice and fandom had much in the way of overlap, so correct me if I’m wrong but when AO3 was created, trigger warnings weren’t really a thing that was on most of fandom’s radar. Anyway, what the archive warnings have in common is they are all things that make fic “dark” or, for some people, “kind of a bummer,” and that the sort of “default” shipper who prefers things on the up and up (which varies across fandoms but I feel like in most, those people predominate and people who prefer darkfic/whump tend to be in the minority, at least that’s been my experience across several fandoms) sees as ruining the romantic fantasy they’re looking for in fic. I count myself in that category; I am not triggered by any of the archive warnings and in fact I’ve read plenty of original fiction that deals with each of them extensively, but I tend to go to fanfiction for warm fuzzy romance so both RNC and MCD are no-goes for me for whatever is my current big OTP: I want them to like and respect each other and not hurt each other (and also, not be rapists), and I want them to have a happy ending. And conversely, if you ARE into darkfic (which I am occasionally for some other fandoms, just usually not whatever is my current Big Ship), then you will want to know if some particular dark feature you might be looking for is in there. I hope I’m making sense here, I just get the sense that those big four are things that fandom tends to be sharply divided on in terms of whether they want it with a particular pairing or story or not, and so it makes sense for the four to be listed. But yeah, the idea that it’s somehow portraying character death as “triggering” to put that in that category, or that you’re so put-out by putting CNTW on your fic with a death you don’t want to spoil (which, well, as a person who actively looks up spoilers for original media and has read some great fics that gave away a death that still managed to be full of twists and turns and surprises, I’ll leave my thoughts out about that and “spoiler culture” more generally, but it is ultimately up to the author)…. I think that’s really missing that those were not originally intended to be a list of “triggering” things. Also, some other triggering stuff isn’t in there, because it’s not a common thing that fic readers tend either really want or really NOT want. (Like incest, which also is usually pretty obvious from the ship in question, or if they’re making two people related who weren’t in canon, from additional tags.) Anyway, the “but if I put CNTW on my fic they won’t know which one” whine is a problem with all four of the archive warnings. Maybe you CNTW for noncon but you don’t want people to think the character doesn’t survive. Maybe you CNTW for underage but are worried that people might think it’s nonconsensual. Idk, I think there are ways around that regardless via the author description. Also, sorry, but as someone who doesn’t like character death…. I like the idea that people who want to be coy about if it’s happening or not are forced to put a tag that raises that possibility! So i can just avoid it! If it wasn’t a major archive warning, a lot of those “don’t want to spoil” people would just not tag it at all, bumming their readers out if they feel like they weren’t anticipating it ahead of time. That’s a legitimate preference for readers to have!

--

We weren't consciously thinking of it in terms of "dark" fic.

Frankly, ye olde slash fandom was full of extreme hurt/comfort scenarios that nobody batted an eyelash at as long as the ending of the fic was happy.

These were simply a shortlist of things that are easy to enforce and that at least some archives and other fic spaces had had as important warnings in the past. MCD was like 100000000x more common than the others.