#shaking my fist at the sky THIS SHIT COULD BE GOOD BUT BY THE NATURE OF ITS EXISTENCE I CANT DO ANYTHING WITH IT

[eclipsesalign]

Missing old ocs

[typingatlightspeed]

if you're still taking not-smut requests, may i please request some dullahan!solly hanging out with djinni!pyro?

TF2 Fanfic - Accelerant

While some of the team plays ball, Pyro watches and has a think. Soldier joins him, and they talk about Engie's body modifications, Pyro's evolving feelings on them, and the nature of their extreme age gap and lifespan difference. Then they build a potato cannon. They talk a little about Soldier's relationship with Scout, but mostly a bit of mayhem ensues.

Part of Monstrous Intent! Ao3 Link! Rating: Teen (there's like one sex joke lol)

I hope you enjoy, anon! This one stymied me for a bit up to the point where Soldier suggested the potato gun, then the final gag with Soldier's head popped into my brain on the drive home from work, and I was like, "THAT'S IT THAT'S THE GAG" and the rest came naturally. :D

---------

"Yo! Come on, Snipes, I'm open!"

"Bombs away!" Sniper lined up his shot and fired off the football in his hand, launching it for Scout with surprising force moments before Demoman collided with him, tackling him to the dirt.

"Dammit!" Engineer cursed, chasing the pass, knowing there was no way he'd get there in time to intercept, but hoping he could at least bring Scout down before he made any forward progress.

Scout caught the ball easily, eyeing up his options for approach, and took off for the area that had been marked as Engineer and Demoman's goal by setting up a cooler and a particularly large rock and drawing a line in the gravel between with a shovel. He bounded across the desert floor, grinning as Engineer charged for him, intent on bringing him to the ground. With a grunt, he kicked off the ground, vaulting Engineer in one leap, his hoof tapping the shorter man's hard hat and launching him into a second-stage jump, carrying him well past any hope of being caught. He sped into the end zone and spiked the ball, prancing in a circle and pumping his fists to the sky. "Woo! Now that's how it's done! Eat my dust, Hardhat!"

"Damn double-jumpin' jackrabbit," Engineer cursed with a pout. He shot a glare at Demoman, who was now quite busy pinning Sniper to the ground and tickling his neck with his muttonchops. "Dammit, Demo, we're tryin' to play a ballgame, here!"

"Yeah, play games with Snipes' balls off 'a the field, you mook," Scout teased, snatching the ball back up and trotting over.

"D'ye want Scout, then?" Demoman offered to Engineer, sitting up on his knees and letting Sniper wheeze in a breath between diminishing laughs.

"'Least he's tryin' to play the damn game," Engineer reasoned, tossing Scout a look and shaking his head.

"How 'bout we take five, get some water, an' let these two get the giggles out?" Scout asked, jerking his thumb at Demoman and Sniper. "I'll go grab my basketball. Football ain't shit with only four players."

"Yeah, that's fair."

"Sure you'll be good for basketball, Truckie?" Sniper asked, sitting up and shoving Demoman off of himself.

Engineer glared at Sniper, knowing exactly the dig he was about to make. "Stretch, dunks ain't the entire game. Ain't gotta be a giant to sink three-pointers."

"Dibs on Engie," Scout announced immediately. "Robot hand's gotta be an unfair advantage!"

High above, Pyro sat on one of the catwalks above the base, watching his teammates mill around and grab bottles of water from the cooler. He hoped that this wasn't the end of their game. It had been entertaining to watch Scout, Sniper, and Engineer actually trying while Demoman was intent on turning it into a game of grab-ass rather than actual sport. All the same he giggled watching the bomber pull his lover into a kiss before being swatted with his hat playfully and having water dumped on his head. As Scout trotted inside, Engineer unclipped his overalls to remove his work shirt, fanning himself. He cracked open his water and poured a little on himself before taking a swig, looking up in surprise upon hearing Pyro whistle from above. He grinned upon seeing him wave from the catwalk, and waved back.

The distant burst and whoosh of an explosion caught Pyro's attention from behind, and he turned to see Soldier sailing up into the air, fresh off a rocket jump. He nearly overshot the catwalk, landing at first on the railing before turning on his toe and hopping down far more nimbly than expected of a man his size.

Pyro half-turned, waving to him. "Hey Soldier!"

"Hello Pyro!" Soldier greeted brightly. He set his launcher down against the railing and ambled over to sit down beside Pyro, letting his legs dangle off the catwalk and kicking his feet idly. "What are you up to?"

"Hanging out. Thinking, mostly."

"What about?"

Pyro looked down at Engineer, who had clipped his overalls back into place and was currently holding the basketball as Scout stripped his shirt off, the two of them clearly taking team Skins for their little two on two game. They headed over to where their makeshift hoop of a bottomless milk crate nailed to a board had been hung on the edge of the porch overlooking a concrete paddock and set up to play. "Engie, mostly," he replied, a sigh in his voice.

"He is pretty dreamy. You should ask him out," Soldier teased.

Pyro snorted a laugh at that. "I dunno, I think he might be out of my league. You know the guy's got eleven PhDs?"

Soldier frowned. "Sounds fake." Another snorting laugh rewarded him, making his grin return immediately. "So what's Engie got you thinking about?" he asked, turning his gaze down to the game below.

"Ah, he's working on a new 'upgrade' to his body. A new spine. First stage of a full endoskeletal conversion project, so he says."

Soldier looked to Pyro and stared blankly.

"He's gonna replace all of his bones with metal ones eventually," Pyro explained.

"That botherin' you still?" "A little," Pyro admitted. "A lot less than before, though. I understand a lot more about his prosthetics, how they work, why I don't see the glamour in them like I do other things he builds. They're really clever, actually! In addition to making it so they obey his commands by a mix of reading muscle impulses and magical will-working, they're powered basically by pulling ambient magic out of the air, which is a completely sustainable fuel source. The Conaghers have been doing magic artifice for generations without even realizing it, because they've been accidentally blending magic into their technology. It's why nobody's been able to replicate their designs. The Australium is the key resource that makes it all come together, with its arcanoconductivity."

Soldier picked at his ear with his pinky finger, about half of what Pyro was saying flying directly over his head to go crash and burn somewhere in the desert. "So what's the problem?"

"I dunno, I guess I still have a lot of trouble getting past the fact that he's removing perfectly good flesh and bone for this, taking himself apart, you know?"

"Doc adds and removes stuff from us all the time," Soldier pointed out, lifting a finger into the air in an imitation of the doctor's mannerisms.

"Yeah, but at least it's usually internal so I don't notice."

"So are a spine and bones."

"But his entire legs and hand weren't. And once he finishes with bones, you can guarantee he's gonna work outward from there."

"Fair." Soldier let out a long breath through his nose, his brain churning. "Hadn't Engie been complaining about his back for as long as we've known him?"

"He does do a lot of lifting."

"Worn out, busted."

"Doesn't sleep great some nights."

"Can't sit too long."

"Practically eats aspirin."

"Ice packs."

"Heat packs."

"The way he smells like tiger balm after a real long match."

"He's strong as an ox, but he's in his mid-forties," Pyro sighed.

"It's not really perfectly good flesh and bone then, huh?"

"Guess you're right." Pyro leaned his forehead against the railing, flames creeping around the metal bar a bit. "He's in a lot of pain a lot of the time. This'd actually fix a problem rather than just do it for the sake of doing it, huh?"

"What's more practical than replacing the busted part?"

"You sound like Engie," Pyro chuckled.

"All I'm saying is that from what I've been told by people I've outlived is that the average red-blooded American man expects to just barely get past seventy years if he doesn't give his life in glorious battle first. Engie's more than halfway through that. He's probably trying to make himself last as long as he can. After all, he doesn't have the luxury of already being dead, like me!" Soldier jerked a thumb at himself with a grin.

Pyro chuckled and shook his head. Soldier was too good at making a solid point when he wanted to be. All the same, he didn't like being reminded about how short the rest of Engineer's life would be. "I'm ageless, eternal," he sighed, his eyes following Engineer's movements as he juked Demoman right off of his feet and sunk a two-pointer with ease. "I'm gonna outlive him. Just like I outlive everyone."

"How many human partners have you buried?"

"Too many. I don't know if I can do it again. But I know I'll have to."

Soldier hated to see his friend wilt like this, pain written clearly across his flaming face. "Maybe that's something Engie can prevent? He's smart enough."

"Short of becoming something supernatural, no human has, Soldier."

"You said it yourself that his cyber-stuff is basically magic, right? Maybe he'll build himself a new body that'll never grow old or break down so long as he keeps fixing it up! With the strength of five gorillas, and an ass that physically cannot quit!"

Pyro barked a laugh at that, his giggles fading into a soft hum. "Maybe so. Guess it's time we have that conversation, huh?"

"You haven't talked about all that?" "Not so much, no. It's not exactly fun to think about it."

"Got me there."

The sounds of Scout shit-talking Sniper's terrible free throw filled the silence.

Soldier looked back to Pyro again. "You wanna make a potato cannon?"

Pyro looked at him with all of the severity of a man about to realize his life's calling. "Hell yeah I do."

*

The bay door to Engineer's workshop rolled up, the sunlight momentarily blinding for Pyro and Soldier as they stepped out of the base. Soldier held a large plastic tube in his arms. It was long, and about an inch and a half diameter until it reached a connector after about two feet, and attached to a piece that was about three inches in diameter for its final foot.

"I'm surprised we didn't need to steal more from Engie."

"PVC pipe, connector, PVC cement to glue it all together, pipe cap, and a quick visit to the drill press, no problem," Pyro chuckled, shaking up a can of hair spray, a sack of potatoes firmly grasped in his other hand.

"Why did you have hairspray in your quarters, anyway?"

Pyro stared blankly at him like he'd asked the stupidest question in the world. He held out one finger, a soft glow heralding a small mote of flame springing to life at its tip. Without interrupting eye contact for even a moment, he held it up to the spray can and pressed down, the spray making the little fire into a gout of flame.

Soldier grinned. "Let's see if we can hit the Sword Van from here with it."

They set up on the edge of the paddock that led to the bay door, kneeling down and setting out their meager supplies. Pyro handed Soldier a potato, which he stuffed partway into the narrow barrel of the gun and tamped it onto the concrete to mash it in, the pipe shaving off any of the spud that didn't fit inside.

"Hey Soldier," Pyro began, popping the cap off of the hairspray can. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Okay."

"Where did you go that one furlough when we had that party at Engie's place?"

Soldier frowned, laying the potato cannon over his shoulder like a rocket launcher.

"If you don't want to—"

"I went to go see Ta—," he cleared his throat, "The RED Demoman."

Pyro pulled the cap off of the back end of the wide combustion chamber of the cannon. "I thought things were over between you two."

"It is. It was. Maybe. I dunno. We screwed. Almost felt like old times. But... he figured me out."

"What do you mean?"

"He guessed I wasn't human."

"Oh."

"I'd been afraid of that since day one. He didn't try to kill me on the spot, so it went better than expected, but not by much."

"I'm sorry, Sol."

"Don't be. Made me do some thinking for once. Realize what's important to me, and what I had right in front of me this whole time."

"Scout?"

Soldier smiled softly. "Yeah." He steadied his grip. "Light 'er up!"

With a nod, Pyro sprayed the hairspray into the combustion chamber and plugged it, then snapped his fingers to summon a spark inside, lighting the aerosol. With a soft kick and a THOOMP, the potato rocketed out of the pipe and streaked across the yard and parking lot, slamming into the side of the team's getaway van, bouncing off with a satisfying PWANG. Soldier and Pyro both whooped a laugh and high-fived.

"Reloading!" Soldier called, grabbing another potato and stuffing it into the pipe. He shouldered the cannon once again for Pyro to prep.

"You and Scout doing good, then?"

"Yes! He is not afraid of or disgusted by the fact that I am dead and can remove my head. Now that I have this collar," he flicked the metal ring that hung from the front of his Cephalophore's Collar, "he likes it even more. Mostly because I can screw him and blow him at the same time."

"Priorities," Pyro chuckled, uncapping the cannon.

"He's fun, and sweet, and gets that a fist fight can be a way to say I love you if you're both laughing when you do it. He makes me feel light inside. He makes me feel important. And wanted. And I don't have to hide anything."

"You don't realize how important that last part really is until you finally have it," Pyro mused. "I get it." He shook up the hairspray and sprayed it into the chamber.

"Yeah."

Pyro plugged the chamber. "Fire in the hole!" With a snap, a spark lit and with another THOOMP the potato was sent screaming across the lot to graze a different spot on the van with a WHUNG. "Haha, nice!"

"We should shoot something else."

"Sure, but what?"

Soldier rooted around in the bag for another potato and withdrew a wrinkled, soft one that was weeping liquid that smelled utterly vile. He recoiled for a moment before a wicked grin crossed his teeth. "I have an idea."

"I'm open! I'm open!" Scout hollered, waving his arms in the air.

Engineer craned around Sniper, who was doing his best to stay in his way and block the pass. He cast a look around, noticed one of the support beams of the porch, and grinned. "Port side, son!" He ducked under Sniper's armpit and shot the ball at the beam, bouncing it off and right into Scout's waiting hands. He drove for the hoop, leaping out of Demoman's grasp with ease for the dunk...

And was shot out of the air when a rotten potato slammed into his solar plexus.

Scout folded in on himself as he hurtled to the ground, landing in a heap, the ball forgotten. The stench of rotten potato filled his nose, and he had to fight the urge to gag as he gasped and tried to regain his breath, a sharp throb of pain sparking through his chest and belly. He wheezed, clawing at the ground, the noisome smell filling his senses and making his bile threaten to rise as he writhed.

Sniper's head whipped in the direction from whence it came, and he squinted, making out the shapes of Pyro and Soldier in the parking lot, rolling on the ground laughing. "Oi, you cunts! What's the big idea?!"

Pyro climbed to his knees and cupped his hands around his mouth to holler. "He okay?!"

"He smells bloody awful!" Demoman called back, trotting over to help the fallen faun to his hooves, dodging chunks of potato as he scrubbed it off of his chest, succeeding only in mashing it into his hand wraps.

"Oh, I'm okay alright," Scout growled, then spit on the ground. When he saw Soldier he grinned. "They ain't, though!"

"Hey, Sol?" Pyro said, shaking Soldier, who was still laying on the pavement, shaking off giggles. "Sol. Sol, he's coming."

"Who's coming?"

"Scout's coming and he does not look like it's in peace."

Soldier rolled up into grinned broadly, throwing his arms wide. "How you like that mashed potato, Private?!"

"Ohhhh brother you're in for it now," Scout growled, diving at Soldier and sending the two of them tumbling out of the lot and into the dirt, fists flying, legs kicking, throwing up a cloud of dust as they brawled like it was an old cartoon.

Pyro set the hairspray down and quickly sidled out of sight and back into the base.

It was a few minutes before Sniper spotted Scout returning with a bloody nose and a cut above his eyebrow, something clutched in his arms. "What in the hell is he carryin'?"

Scout saw them watching him and tucked the object under one arm, lowering himself and charging back onto their makeshift court with speed. "Yo Snipes, alley-oop!" he yelled, double-jumping over the assassin and finally making that dunk, hanging from the milk crate basket for a moment before dropping to his hooves victoriously.

Everyone looked at what he'd dunked. Soldier's detached head, with a black eye and a fat lip, grinned up at them. "Hello! I am a basketball!"

Demoman threw an arm around Sniper and gently slugged him in the side. "See? Told ye we're nae the weirdest couple on base by a longshot."

[lonely-lost-soul]

A Pirate's Life for Me

Cover Art Done By: @fridaydev-draws and @friday-dsv (Dreamsmp x reader) Pirate Au! Love Interests: C!Wilbur, C!Techno, C!Dream, C!Sapnap, C!Quackity, and C!Schlatt

~~~

Salt burned your lungs as you tossed open your window with a loud bang, the seagulls perching on your flower boxes screeched in protest and flew from your window. “Fucking sky rats get the fuck out of here you heathens!” You snarled out the window shaking your fist at the bothersome birds, the sounds of the ocean crashing on the shore filled your ears as well as the chatter of the dock workers. You let the breeze blow back your hair and you heard someone calling your name from down below.

“Good morning (Y/n)!” You glanced below you and grinned,

“Morning Eret!” They waved back enthusiastically their dress spilling around their ankles, a basket of fruit was balanced on his hip. “Opening early today? I'm sure your patrons would be happy to start their drunken stupor early,” She held a hand to his mouth snickering and you shot them a look.

“If that gets more money in my pocket then so be it, I won't complain too much.” You shrugged, “Will I still see you later tonight?”

“Always do dove, how can I resist a drink from my favorite bartender.”

“You can’t it’s my charm.”

“Will the both of you shut the fuck up!” Another man’s voice growled from another open window, “It’s too early for your bullshit.” You saw Eret click his tongue but smiled up at you despite the man's protests,

“I’m heading to the market anyway. These fruits won’t sell themselves, I'll see you later.”

“See you soon!” You closed your windows once more, but not before urging your daisies to grow one last time. You tossed open the curtains allowing light to spill into your cozy home, a small carpet was in the middle of your room. It was a deep red and the pattern was made of gold yarn, aside from that everything in your residency was made of dark wood. Your shelves were littered with books and empty cups, and your old worn journal sat open on your desk. It was filled with childhood memories and you continued to write in it to this day, it was easier then, things were simple and everything was innocent and new to you. Now your days were filled with sea fairing idiots who liked to drink themselves stupid, but you could handle yourself, you always kept your father's dagger on your thigh at all times. Those who were frequent customers knew not to mess with you and those who were new learned their lesson within the first ten minutes of meeting you. You inherited the bar from your father, a kindhearted man who died a few years before today, leaving you with the bar and the dagger you had on your hip. You fished through your closet pulling out your clothes for the day, your dress was a gorgeous light coffee color and came down to your ankles. The bottom was flared and had dark brown panels on the sides, it faded inward to a light green then back to the coffee color. The corset around your waist was a dark brown with light green trim, you tied it tight with a small huff making sure your waist was sinched perfectly. The sleeves came down to your elbows allowing you to move your arms freely while making drinks. The top of the dress ended just below your collarbone, you strapped your dagger to your thigh before lacing up your knee-high black boots.

You thought back to your tavern downstairs, you were fortunate enough that you weren’t running this entire operation yourself. You ended up hiring help and they were like family and you knew they saw you as such as well. Most of the girls didn’t have a family of their own so you gave them room and board, also money, of course, you weren’t a terrible boss! You opened the door to your room, you watched Cecil, the tavern’s mascot trot out of Juniper’s room. The border collie liked to switch up which rooms he stayed in protecting every one of your girls when you couldn’t be there for them.

The first of your girls was Adelaide or Addie, she was one of the first to fall under your care. She was around your age, a motherly type, sheep hybrid, who cared for the girls, and always gave the drunk patrons with mommy issues a shoulder to cry on. Her long brown hair always hung down her back, she typically worked tables, served food and drinks, and always got a generous tip from patrons.

The next girl was Judas, a squid-enderman hybrid who was taller than you could ever wish to be, although intimidating you couldn’t meet a kinder woman. A jack of all trades the woman helped out wherever she could, black-ish purple hair curled around her shoulders and some people came specifically to hear her sing. Her voice was like rich velvet and lured men and women in like a siren.

Juniper was after Judas, a demon hybrid who was naive but you’d be a fool to underestimate her. She worked beside you at the bar, she can make some mean fruity drinks, Eret always preferred her drinks over yours. Freckles adorned her face and shoulders, her light brown hair curled down to her middle back, purple horns sprouted from the top of her head. You wanted to adorn it with gold jewelry and you were saving up to gift some to her.

Yeti was a human woman like yourself, she didn’t bother with those who were rude or obnoxious. She kept to herself only really talking when she was spoken to or when there was an opportunity to crack a rare joke. She typically stayed on the sidelines, out of the scenes and Yeti liked to help Judas decorate her sets.

Zig was a kind young adult, they got along with everyone who came inside the tavern. Soft emerald eyes drew people in, and they tried to make sure tensions within the bar didn’t rise and start a fight. There would always be one or two that’s just natural, but one look at Zig and his magic words and they seemed to disperse, not wanting to hurt the kid’s feelings.

Vendetta was the tallest member of the group you had taken in, she was stunningly beautiful and didn't take shit from anybody. She was a guard dog if you will, making sure no one fucked with any of the girls in your tavern. While Zig did their best to keep people under control sometimes they couldn’t win. That’s when Ven would step in and ‘kindly’ escort them off the premises with or without force.

The youngest member here was Luvena. She was a moo-bloom hybrid with soft brown hair that sprouted flowers, her cow ears would twitch when she was excited and followed Addie around like she was her daughter. Addie took her under her wing and was training her to be a perfect little waitress, absolutely warming customers’ hearts. Luvena also loved to give out flowers, she was a fan favorite bringing new life into the tavern.

Cecil barked seeing his mama and scampered over to you, you poured food into his bowl as Juniper wandered into the hallway. Her head rested on the doorframe as she gave you a tried wave, “Morning (Y/n).”

“Morning Juni, We’re opening a little early today. Take your time I’m not expecting a big rush of bar patrons this early.” You assured her and she gave a sleepy nod,

“I’ll be down as soon as Ven’s out of the shower.” She yawned, “This beauty doesn’t come naturally.”

“Hardly darling you’re gorgeous just the way you are.” You reassured with a wink, Juniper flushed a little, happily laughing beside you.

“Just go wake the others will you, you flirt!”

Tossing your head back you gave a happy laugh heading down the hallway to make sure everyone was awake and ready to go for later. Addie and Luvena shared a room so she was in charge of waking up the youngest member of the tavern. Judas was already awake making breakfast for everyone when you headed downstairs, Zig was sitting on the counter beside her, they were the designated taste tester.

“Good morning Miss (Y/n)!” Zig chirped, the young adult hummed fondly, “Sleep okay?”

“Absolutely. What about you both? Thank you for making breakfast Judas.” You hummed fondly and Judas had a shy smile on her face.

“I slept well thank you.” Judas hummed softly, “Also it’s my pleasure. Want to make sure everyone’s healthy and alright.” She let out a little squeak as you wrapped your arms around her body, you barely came up to her chest,

“Judas please marry me,” You complained, “Your breakfast is always heavenly and you care for everyone. Please be my wife.”

“(Y/n)! Please.” She sputtered face turning a dark purple, Zig made a noise of protest and held his hand in the air.

“If she won’t marry you I will!”

“Zig! I’d be honored!”

Their entire face lit up with excitement and they hopped off the table to hug you tightly, you hugged them back and pressed a fond kiss to the top of their head. “I got to open up the tavern, you mind setting the table for me Zig?”

“Sure Miss!”

You sent Judas a kiss in the air which her face burned at, quickly going back to her cooking. You smiled eagerly and unlocked the door to the tavern, you shoved a bucket in front of the door to keep it open. The salty ocean air wafted through your nostrils and your eyes sparkled wondrously.

Today is going to be a good day.

Almost immediately a particular bastard caught your eye,

“You’re here early.” You mused raising an eyebrow,

“Heard you were opening early today sweetcheeks,” His voice was a low baritone, rough from years of smoking and drinking. Horns curled around his fluffy ears that stood out against his gruff exterior, he was a ram hybrid at its finest. “Figured I’d take the opportunity to get a special drink from my special girl,” He mused looking you up and down drinking in your figure. You scoffed at the retired man, he dressed like he was cosplaying captain jack sparrow, the gun’s in his belt just added to his costume and so did his large ruffled shirt, he was never one to forget his gold jewelry.

“Where’s Quackity?” You ignored him sitting him at his usual table, he frowned but you knew he was taking it as an opportunity to stare at your ass. He slid into the stool and put his feet up on the table, his boots were muddy but you could only control him so much. He was too much of a regular to get scared off by your threats and scolding.

“He’ll be in at his normal time. He’s not much of a day drinker, although can’t say I’m complaining. Having all your attention on me and all, considering I’m the only one in here. That being said, I’ll have my usual sweetcheeks.”

“Stop calling me that,” You scolded with a certain fondness that was reserved for the man. “You’re lucky you’re my favorite regular Schlatt,” you gave his ears a fond pinch and he bleated. He sent you a scalding look as you walked away, although the look soon fell as he got a good look at your ass once again.

“I’m your only regular sugar tits!”

“Schlatt feet off the table.” Addie criticized whacking his boots with a rolled-up menu, he rolled his eyes but dropped his feet to the floor. “You should know this by now, we go through this every day.”

“Yeah, yeah little lamb I’m on it. Judas here?”

“She’s always here,” She huffed spreading the menu down on the table. “Do you want your usual or something different? Should I get Quackity’s drink ready too?”

“Nah just stick with mine, for now, tell Judas I’d like to see her.”

Addie clicked her tongue and placed her hand on her hip, “fine. But if you’re just going to grossly flirt with her as you do with (y/n), then keep it to yourself.”

“You’re not the boss of me. Just because you look like an old hag-” The way she glared at him sent a chill down his spine, “shit babe take a joke will you.”

Eventually, people began to file into the tavern, as the morning faded into the afternoon and then into the evening. The tavern was bustling with life, Judas’s elegant voice traveled through the crowds and her voices seemed to float above the voices. Quackity joined Schlatt by his side seemingly irritated by a conversation they were having, Schlatt was about five drinks in at this point, which was much less than his usual, and Quackity on his second.

“What are they talking about?” Luvena asked swinging her legs as she sat on the bar beside you. Her moobloom ears twitching every so often as she tried to eavesdrop on their conversation,

“Vena it’s impolite to eavesdrop.” You scolded bopping her on the head lightly, she whined and rubbed the top of her head.

“I wasn’t!” She argued as you rolled your eyes, you looked over at the two men to find Quackity looking over at you. His hand was raised in the air, one finger was up summoning you to get him another drink.

“I’ll be back, why don’t you talk to Ven while I’m gone. She’ll keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Good thing she doesn’t want to babysit your ass either, now shoo.” You motioned her to hop off the bar and she did so with a long, dramatic sigh. You looked over at Ven who gave you a silent nod, letting you know she’d watch out for the youngest member of your band of misfits. Meanwhile, you grabbed Quackity another drink and walked over to the two men at the table, “Someone order a drink?”

“Aye! Mamacita! Fancy seeing you here.” Quackity purred a bright smile spreading across his face seeing that you were the one to deliver his drink,

“Hey Big Q,” You greeted placing the drink in front of him, “You doing okay?”

“Better now that an angel walked into my sight,” He flirted and you rolled your eyes. “What? It’s true! You always brighten my day you know? Ow!” Schlatt hit his ex-first mate over the head,

“Take a breath lover boy. Thanks for the drink sugar tits.”

“You’re welcome, what were the both of you talking about if I may ask.” You hummed grabbing some of Schlatt’s empty glasses, an uncharacteristic frown came over both their faces. “Oh? Touchy subject?”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Just dishing out some old problems, most of which are better left unsaid.” He aimed that statement at Quackity, his jaw seemed clenched and Quackity’s brow furrowed in annoyance.

“Well I just want to remind the both of you,” You passed the tray of empty glasses over to Addie as she walked by, she took them swiftly. You grabbed the side of both their heads and pressed them against your chest, not that you knew but both men’s flushed to the tips of their ears. “No physical fights are allowed in this tavern. If one starts I won’t hesitate to kick your fucking asses. Got it?” They looked over your chest and locked eyes with one another, after years on the sea they could read one another’s facial expressions rather easily and at that moment they shared the same thought,

‘They should fight more often.’

“I said, got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” The repeated simultaneously as you pulled away,

“That’s what I like to hear-”

“(Y/n)!” Vendetta’s velvety voice called out from behind you, you turned and saw a group of newcomers file into your bar. Your body tensed momentarily,

Pirates.

Schlatt turned his head to follow your gaze and he tensed from behind you, “fuck me.” He growled and Quackity raised an eyebrow at his captain, he turned to look over his shoulder and his face lit up.

“Sapnap!”

The pirate who had a white bandana tied around his forehead glanced over at him and a smile lit up across his features. “Quackity? Is that you?”

“My man!” He stood up from his chair heading over to wrap the man in a hug, “I haven’t seen you in years, man.” You zoned out of their conversation eyes locking with a few of the other pirates who walked into the tavern. Vendetta and Addie both greeted them, but everyone who was under your care knew to keep their guard up around pirates. From what you could gather there seemed to be two crews, a crew of what only seemed to be two, Sapnap was included. The fire demon was still talking with Quackity, while the other man took in the view of the tavern, he had shaggy blonde hair, and had a few scars across his face. A porcelain mask sat on top of his head, a forest green cloak was around his shoulders, his hood was lowered around his neck. A sword was strapped tight against his hip and there was another dagger that seemed to be tucked against his side. His eyes gazed towards you and he winked teasingly with a coy smile, you scoffed looking over at Addie.

“Seat those two gentlemen yeah? Be careful, I’ll tell Ven and Yeti to keep an eye.” Addie looked at you, concern written on her soft features but she nodded. While Addie departed, you noticed Ven talking with the other group. Luvena was hiding behind Vendetta’s long legs, although a tall blonde boy seemed very keen on talking to her. You smoothed out your dress and moved towards the group of three, you eyed them up casually. The blonde looked to be around Luvena’s age, he had a shit-eating grin on his face and his uniform matched that of the second tallest in the group. The second tallest was clad in a light blue jacket with large golden buttons on the red collar. He had a cream-frilled shirt underneath and a black belt holding up his brown slacks, those were tucked into black boots. On his back seemed to be a guitar and was the only one of them not holding a weapon, but you knew better than to assume with pirates. His curly brown hair seemed to bounce every time he talked, he seemed to be the ringleader but there was no doubt that the real ringleader was the hybrid standing beside him. He was taller, on par with Vendetta in height, he had long pink hair that was tied in a ponytail on top of his head. A few pieces framed his face elegantly, there was no doubt he was the captain of the little crew that was in your tavern. He had a white shirt on with a deep low cut ‘V’ it showed off a good portion of his scared chest, around his shoulders sat a deep red jacket but his arms were outside of it and crossed over his chest. He seemed content on letting his second in command do all the talking, his red eyes were the only ones to meet yours. His head tilted upwards and before Vendetta could stop him he walked over towards you,

“You own the tavern?” His voice was a low monotone and it sent an array of pleasant chills up your spine.

“I do,” You raised an eyebrow crossing your arms over your chest, “Names (Y/n). You are?”

“Captain Technoblade of the ship Odyssey, I was hoping you had a few rooms and a table available. My brothers and I are pretty exhausted, we’ve been sailing all night.”

Brothers, they certainly didn’t all look alike, but then again you certainly had a mix of girls in your care. Your tongue swiped against the top row of your teeth, “Why don’t you and your brothers take a seat at the bar for now. Juniper will be happy to serve you, I’ll see if we have some free rooms available.”

“Thank you, once you return I’ll introduce them to you if you’d like,” Technoblade bowed his head before turning back to get his brother’s attention.

“I’d like that thank you.” You gave a nod motioning for Vendetta to follow you as you slid behind the bar with Juniper, Judas had also taken a spot sitting on the bar. You figured you’d let her know as well, considering she was another adult figure in the group. You knew either Juniper or Judas would fill in Addie considering the three were close. “Ven, can they be trusted?”

“Not too sure about the masked man, the one Quackity seems to be familiar with seems decent enough. He’s a fire demon though, could smell him from miles away, we all just need to be cautious.”

“Agreed,” Juniper added tapping her finger on her chin. “We should just try to curb all fighting if at all possible, what did the captain of the other group ask you?”

“They want a room, I’m about to check to see if we have availability. Thoughts on that?”

Judas let out a low hum her eyes followed both sets of pirate groups around the tavern, “I say if we have availability let them stay. They seem harmless so long as we don’t mess with them, which we’d never do.”

“Plus I can always stay awake to keep an eye on them.” Vendetta tapped her nails against the table,

“You sure.”

“As if I’d let anything happen to any of you, you’re my family.”

You all smiled softly, and you noticed Judas’s eyes widen, “Zig! Get that out of your mouth this instant!” She shot up from her spot and over to the person in question. The three of you laughed fondly at the nonsense, meanwhile, Juniper saw the three brothers sit at her bar. She moved away from you to greet them, you immediately could tell she was taken with the second eldest brother.

He seemed to be an absolute lady killer.

Vendetta ruffled your hair before going back to stand at her place by the door to keep the peace. You headed up the stairs to the rafters to check on the extra rooms you had, “Excuse me?” You tensed visibly turning around to face the man in all green. His eyes were mesmerizing, a fierce jade green to contrast his cloak, “Do you happen to have two rooms available?” The man held up two fingers to clarify his request,

“Do you usually start introductions with a blatant request like that?”

He chuckled a smile spreading across his lips, “I’m Dream and you gorgeous?”

“(Y/n), it’s your lucky day I’m about to check and see if any are available. My tavern is a hot commodity tonight.”

“Well, I can see why,” he spoke and you raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side.

“Oh?”

“It has the hottest owner around. Word spreads fast.”

You couldn’t believe this man was making your cheeks burn, he chuckled softly taking a step towards your figure. “Oh really, word spreads that fast on the open sea, Captian?” It was his turn to turn light pink, but he covered it up quickly with a chuckle.

“Touché.”

“I’ll get on that room for you and your friend. Take a seat, for now, this part is for guests and staff only you know?”

“So I have you all to myself?” He cheekily mused, he stepped towards you and before you knew it you were pinned against a wall. His hand suddenly brushed against your cheek, it was cold in comparison to your warm cheek. You felt Dream’s thumb brush against your cheek slowly, “You know...being on the open sea alone does something to a person.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You mused pushing your forehead back against Dream’s, “All alone with only your crew with you.” Taking his other hand within your own you slid it up to your hip, you saw his entire face turn red as he stared down at your chest. “You’re probably missing a little love in your life, aren’t you Dreamy?” He nodded dumbly, his eyes still not leaving your chest,

Perfect. You weren’t going to let some pirate boy get the better of you.

He let out a grunt of pain as you spun him around and pressed his head into the wall with your elbow, your other hand has his pinned behind his back. “This hallway is for staff and guests only,” You purred in his ear before letting him go and swinging your hips before heading up the stairs fully. From behind you, Dream’s face was a deep, dark red and he had to clear his throat. Dream wasn’t going to let you go after that, I mean look at you, tough and able to hold your own, it awakened something inside him.

After checking up on the rooms you headed back down into the main hall, three-room keys in your hand. Glancing over at the scene in front of you, you saw Juniper dancing in the middle of the tavern the flirtatious brother at her side. Judas was sitting beside Schatt and Quackity at the bar, Addie was tending to Technoblade and the blonde at their little table. Dream and Sapnap were whispering to one another in the corner but still seemed to be enjoying the show. Vendetta was smiling softly by the door, beside her were Luvena and Zig both playing various instruments. You noticed Eret was also amongst the crowd, she had a brilliant grin on his face, it was flushed pink with alcohol and you smiled to yourself.

It was peaceful, and for a moment you forget half the patrons were scoundrels or pirates.

That was until the man dancing with Juniper locked eyes with you, his eyes lit up and he spun Juniper off into Addie’s arms. She giggled snuggling into the mother sheep’s arms, you heard a distressed “Juni! I’m holding glasses!” Before your vision was overtaken by the handsome flirt.

“Hello love,” He hummed, “May I offer you a dance?”

You were about to refuse but you saw Yeti, who finally made her appearance as it was getting closer to Judas’s set, giving you a big thumbs up “I’d be honored.” You responded taking his hand within your own, he pulled you out onto the dance floor and you felt his other hand politely hover on the small of your back. He allowed you to lean into his touch as he began to elegantly spin you around the dance floor, you were almost embarrassed to say felt like a princess. “Maybe I could get your name?” You asked above the music, “Since it seems you’re my dance partner this evening?”

“Wilbur Soot my love.” He hummed proudly, “The first mate of the ship Odysseus at your service. Plus I play music on the side.”

“Well now you need to play for us,” Wilbur twirled you around in a circle,

“Maybe one day. If you give me your name?”

“(Y/n) (L/n).”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“I was right.” You commented biting the bottom of your lip trying not to smile,

“About what?”

“You.”

“Ah? Already talking about me I see? Is my manliness and gentlemanly qualities that renowned?”

“Not exactly.” He picked you up slightly and pulled you into a low dip, “I was right in thinking you a nothing but a flirty playboy.” Wilbur almost dropped you, you squawked grabbing onto his neck. He began to laugh as you clung to his chest,

“Alright love. You caught me red-handed.”

Wilbur set you on your feet hands on your lower back, you were pulled close to his chest. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I get them for free hon. I own the place.”

“Oh...oh.” He paled a little, “I didn’t fuck up our chances of getting a room did I?”

“Nah lucky for you and your brothers, I have you covered, same with your buddies over there.” You motioned to Dream and Quackity’s friend, Wilbur’s face paled as he felt the chilled room key get placed in his palm. “What’s your little brother’s name?”

“Tommy.”

“Tell them both we serve breakfast free from 7 am to 10 am.” He nodded as you walked past, Wilbur meanwhile turned to look at Technoblade. It seemed he had his red eyes on the couple the entire time they were dancing. He held up a room key, it was labeled 205; Technoblade nodded his head before leaning back and talking to Addie once more. “Dream!” You called throwing a hand up into the air, instead of Dream, Sapnap looked up he nudged Dream with his elbow. The man was now wearing his mask, but at least you could tell he was looking at you,

“Well hello, darlin’ you must be (Y/n). Name's Sapnap. Dream told me about you, so you have good news for us I hope?”

“Pleasure, I'm sure he told you all about me,” He nodded, his eyes taking in your body especially your ass. “Got you both a room key, your neighbors. Across from the other crew of pirates. Just don’t fight and we won’t have any problems.”

“You mean those jackasses are staying?” Sapnap complained loudly, looking over your shoulder at the other crew members.

“You both didn’t think you were the only patrons, did you? This is a business after all.” You, tossed the keys their way, Dream caught it with ease and Sapnap fumbled it only a little bit. After they were in their hands, you waved them off with a flutter of your palm you turned around to go speak with Judas about her set but before you could take a step you saw Schlatt stumbling up from his seat. “Ah shit,” You knew what was about to happen, you weren’t paying attention to the ram hybrid so who knew how many drinks in he was. You felt responsible, for a while you and Judas had been trying to help Schlatt with his addiction. You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly set him off for him to get this drunk, Quackity caught him in his arms with a grumble. The man was a drunken mess, and as you approached you could hear his slurred speech and could practically smell the alcohol on his breath. “Schlatt,” You spoke carefully and as soon as you got close Schlatt detached himself from Quackity and lunged at you. His head was buried in his chest, he almost purred like he was very happy to be there, you rolled your eyes and ran your fingers through his hair. You were mindful of his horns but he seemed pretty eager for you to touch them,

“(Y/n).” He whined although it was muffled against your ample chest, “Why do pirates have to fuck everything up?”

“What are you on about Schlatt? No one likes pirates.”

“They’re gonna take you away from me, sugar. You’re my safe space, this tavern is my safe space.” You sighed listening to his drunken ramblings, you grabbed his horns and pulled him away from your chest.

“This is my life Schlatt, I’m not going anywhere trust me. Plus my family is here, they need me. So try not to worry okay?” You slicked back the hair on his forehead before planting a fond kiss there, everyone in the tavern narrowed their eyes at the scene. Even your girls were green with envy, at the sight of their lovely boss kissing someone who wasn’t them. He leaned against your lips eyes fluttering closed,

“Well, well, well if it isn’t Captian Schlatt? Or ex-captain if I remember correctly.”

“What?”

You turned your head and felt Schlatt’s arms wrap around your waist and held you close to his chest. The touch was protective and you felt your heart skip a beat, why was he protecting you, and why did you actually feel protected?

“Has the drinking finally caught up to you? Or was it the fact that you lost your so-”

Was that Dream's voice?

“Shut the fuck up.” He snarled and you were shoved behind him into Quackity’s arms, you felt less protected. “I’m not that person anymore and you fucking know that,” Vendetta came to stand beside the both of you a hand was placed on your shoulder protectively. You knew she was desperately wanted to step in and you held up a hand to stop her.

“This isn’t good…” Quackity murmured, “They’re going to fight. Schlatt’s going to get himself fucking killed.”

“Calm yourself. We won’t let it get that far.” Ven grumbled eyeing you waiting for your signal. But you were lost in the conversation or argument, the two were having, you couldn’t believe Schlatt was a pirate. He was so...he just didn’t...he was a drunk okay? That didn’t exactly shout feared pirate to you!

“Oh, are you sure? I remember that look, that’s the look you’d get before you stomped someone’s lights out. No wonder your son disappeared under mysterious circumstances-” Dream was shoved against one of the poles holding up the building. He grunted and Schlatt’s arm was pulled back ready to punch, but his arm was stopped by smaller hands,

“Pardon me Mr. Schlatt but you know how we feel about fighting in our tavern.” Addie bubbled, she had a smile on her face but it wasn’t kind, it was full of warning.

“Get the fuck off me, sheepie. This doesn’t fucking concern you.” Schlatt shoved her away and as soon as his skin made contact with her body he made a sound of distress.

“(Y/n)...” Addie murmured quietly, your father’s dagger was embedded in Schlatt’s arm,

“Fucking hell you bitch!” He snarled baring his teeth, you glared at him twisting the dagger he yelled in agony.

“Touch one of my girls again and next time this dagger is going right into your back.” You ripped the dagger out, splattering the floor with blood. He grabbed his arm tightly and looked at you with slight betrayal in his yellow eyes. “I mean it Schlatt, Quackity take him home.” The man nodded looking at you longingly, he muttered a quiet ‘Sorry’ before escorting him out of your tavern. “You,” You glared harshly over at Dream, “Go to your room.”

“You’re not my mother.”

“Then find another play to stay.” You spat, he turned away and you looked over at Addie, “Are you alright?” Your voice turned tender as you cupped her cheeks. She nuzzled against your palms and nodded her head,

“I’m fine. You didn’t need to-”

“Yes, I did. No one messes with you. With any of you on my watch.”

The sheep hybrid made a little sound as her bottom lip trembled, she wrapped you in a tight hug which you accepted without hesitance. Judas walked over next and wrapped you both in her arms, pretty soon you were surrounded by your girls and Zig.

All of them had the same mindset: comforting both you and Addie.

It was good to be loved.

Wilbur watched the scene curiously and glanced over at Technoblade who stood up from his chair.

“I think that’s our cue to leave for the night.” He looked over at his first mate, Wilbur nodded in agreement grabbing his guitar from the chair beside Technoblade.

“They...Techno were they talking about Tubbo.” Tommy whispered to his brother, his brow furrowing in concern as they all climbed the steps up to their room, “You don’t think-”

“It just might be Tommy.” Technoblade tilted his head to the side, “Guess that’ll be something we ask him when we get back to the ship tomorrow.”

“Well, this trip is going to be way more fun than I thought.” Wilbur snickered lighting a cigarette, taking a long drag, before letting the smoke curl out of his mouth and up into the rafters. ~~~

Tag List: @v01dw4lk3rz, @jam-bombs, @abovenyx, @glitterydigitalart, @phoenixaesthetic19, @luluwinchester, @boiled-onionrings, @pastelmoonwitche, @roxy3457, @alovestruck-fool, @victory-is-here, @mack4676, @fiorenc, @theoneandonlyyeti, @bloodrose0723, @sandyy-woo,

[duskamethyst]

cozen.

a/n: just realized that the colors of my banners are different on laptop and phone and that pissed me off.

word count: 3.9k 

genre: smut, nsfw

warnings: noncon/dubcon, exhibitionism, public sex, thigh riding, squirting, sexual assault, stalking, power abuse

pairing: aizawa x f!reader

summary: where aizawa deliberately takes on the roll as your guardian inside the train, but of course he has other plans.

the worst place to be during the rush hour would be inside a train. 

aizawa never bothered to commute because he often walked to work and back home but for you, he was willing to make an exception. 

you caught his attention during one of his evening patrols, walking alone in the big city with a short skirt that accentuated your curves and long legs. aizawa discovered the fact that you used the train to get to work daily and with the fact that you were always alone, he knew that you were always put in a vulnerable situation. so, he thought; why not keep an eye on you? maybe his job as a hero could give him a little advantage too.

like a child, he finds himself eager to get on the train. of course, he doesn’t really know which coach you would be standing in but his commute turns out to be so much worth it whenever he does end up standing in the same one as you.

in the morning, you would be there before he gets in and he’s the first one to step off the train in the evening. he assumes that you live somewhere closer to the end of the train’s final stop but he doesn’t know exactly where. so far, he has learned which station you use to wait for the train for your ride home from work. 

and today seems to be one of those days where he is lucky enough to see you in the same coach, squeezed between a throng of people. aizawa always noticed the fed up and uncomfortable look on your face as you held on to the bar but it was because of no other than a pervert deliberately rubbing his front on your backside. 

he’s sort of mad that you just let it happen, quietly accepting the assault being thrown at you. he can see how your face is contorted into anger and vexation as you try to nudge the man with your elbow and what he assumes as the man muttering half-assed apologies before he starts to blatantly repeat the same shit again. 

you look around pleadingly for someone to intervene and your hands are balled into tight fists, ready to swing any moment but you hesitate because you’re afraid of being the one who will end up getting into trouble and especially since you don’t have any concrete evidence that you’re being harassed either.

for a moment, his gaze locks briefly with yours before you turn away, probably to seek for someone else to come to your aid. he knows that almost no heroes ride the train, since they either patrol on the streets or keep watch from up above but he is currently the outlier, and what kind of hero would he be if he just continues to turn a blind eye on this? maybe it’s time for him to steal the opportunity to play hero and finally get an excuse to talk to you after a long time of observing you from the sidelines. 

aizawa slowly pushes the people aside to make his way over to your side and takes you by surprise by putting his hand on your shoulder.

“baby, why didn’t you pick up the phone?” he sighs and says a little too loudly so the creep behind you can hear. you look at him perplexingly but he just gives you a silent look that tells you to play along. 

“u-uh.. i’m sorry. my phone is on silent.” you try to reply with the same tone. “but i’m glad you found me! thought i’ve lost you.” 

the way you inch closer to him doesn’t go unnoticed, especially how your boob is literally pressing on his side. aizawa quickly glances to the man who still seems to be unbothered by the fake acting (not that he can tell) so he spins you around to face him instead. 

good lord. maybe he shouldn’t have done that. 

now aizawa can clearly see that your tits are squished against his chest through the unbuttoned top of your little white blouse. your gaze strays somewhere else, probably in embarrassment or maybe you don’t mind at all– he can’t tell nor can he think straight right now but he’s here for one purpose and he’s going to honor it. 

“how’s work today?” he inquires, turning your head to him with his fingers so it would seem like you both are engaging in a natural conversation between lovers. he is able to see your tired eyes up close but they seem to carry the same soft look he’s so smitten with.

“hard.” he tenses up a little at the possibility of you noticing the erection in his pants but thank god they’re baggy or else the tent would be obvious. “i missed you.”

aizawa’s heart is bursting in his chest but he places on his mask of unfazed expression perfectly. he still has a role to play after all.

he leans down to whisper in your ear yet his eyes bore intimidatingly into the man’s, “i’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. but i promised to take good care of you tonight, remember?”

perhaps that was a bit of an overstate, but hey, it works. now that the man has caught on, he immediately walks off the train as soon as it stops– not even bothering whether it's where he’s supposed to go or not as he tries to run away from the possibility of getting into trouble with another guy.

“you okay?” he steps back and takes a good look at you only to realize how you’re avoiding his gaze to hide your evidently flushed face. how cute. “you don’t look so good.”

“i-i’m fine.” you mutter. “thank you for saving me.”

“no problem. it’s a part of my job. i just happened to be here.” he points out in a blatant lie.

you look at him in surprise as if finally connecting the dots, “wait, are you a hero?”

“uh, i guess– yes, i am.”

it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a hero being vague about his profession– or maybe you just made him feel uncomfortable to admit that he’s one when you, a quirkless citizen should be acknowledging the heroes that are risking their lives to protect the country so they should at least deserve some recognition, him included. 

“i’m sorry. i didn’t recognize you and i don’t really keep up with the heroes.” you laugh nervously, afraid of offending the male. though you can’t really tell what he thinks nor can you tell if he even cares from the look on his face but he only observes you silently before his lips turn to a lopsided smile. 

he doesn’t take it to heart, of course, but he finds it endearing that you’re trying to make him feel better. aizawa is not one that likes to be in the limelight anyway, so he doesn’t blame you. 

the number of people in the train gradually dissipates as the train stops station by station, leaving him and you together with some other few who have taken their seats to doze off. aizawa’s platform has long passed by but he decides to stay with you with intent to know where you actually live.  

aizawa doesn’t speak much the whole ride, only answering your questions and listening to you as you talk about your life. he learns that you’re a fresh graduate who just started working in an office and saving up to buy a car so you don’t have to trouble yourself with train rides anymore. he doesn’t know why you entrust him with the fact that you live alone in your apartment, but he’s relieved that you do. maybe it’s easy to trust a hero. man or not. 

but his filthy gaze lingers around your body once in a while– blood rushes to his cock when he sees the plush thighs that are exposed from your short skirt as you sit, the two buttons on your blouse that looks like they’re about to pop off from your breasts and the way your puffy lips jut out slightly when you stare out the window to watch the sun slowly disappears below the horizon to make way for the dark sky. the ride would’ve been peaceful if not for the uncomfortable throb inside his pants right now.

and soon enough, you stand up from your seat and grab your bag in preparation to step off from the agonizing ride. 

“this is my stop. thank you again, eraser head. it’s nice meeting you!” you beam sweetly before you walk off the train and wave him goodbye as the doors slowly closes between the two of you. 

aizawa can’t wait to see you again tomorrow– but now he needs a change of pace. since he doesn’t want to take risk of you finding out that he intentionally missed his platform, he chooses to only ride the train in the evening now.

with his height, aizawa is able to see you looking around as soon as you step into the train with exhaustion written all over your face. however, it’s instantly washed away with an exuberant look when you notice him staring at you from the other side. his heart swells with joy as he watches you push yourself through the crowd with your bag covering your chest protectively.

“found you, eraser!” you chirp as you stand in front of the male.

“oh? so you were looking for me?” he replies coyly, sinking lower into his scarf to keep his burning cheeks out of sight.

you nod eagerly and sigh, “i looked for you this morning too, but i guess you were on a different coach or something.”

“why? you wanted to use me so i’d protect you from perverts?” 

“oops. busted.” you laugh. 

if that’s the one thing that binds you and him, he doesn’t really mind. aizawa is pleased to know that you’re willing to be around him as much as he does. it then comes to a point where you both promise to be in the same coach in the evening.

it has been over a week since aizawa restrained his lecherous intentions. all of those days he has seen you don that short skirt that seems to hug your ass so well. every weekday evening he gets to glance down over your cleavage when you press yourself closely against him and when you’re not facing him? he can feel that ass just lightly brushing, teasing him when the train shakes and he knows he won’t be able to take it any longer. 

what is he waiting for anyway? when this is all what he coveted in the first place? fuck playing the reliable hero. 

aizawa doesn’t want to regard himself and the creeps inside the train as equals. he’s different. he’s a hero and because of that, he got you always wanting to stay close to him without him compelling. you’re so sweet to him, so trusting and you never give him the dirty look whenever he places his hand too low on your back. 

more people are joining in from different stations so as usual, aizawa quickly pulls you into a corner nearby one of the doors which he knows won’t be opening for people to get in and get out. he only keeps guard by standing behind you as you take in the view of the same buildings and skyline.

“you have no idea how much i’m dying to own a car.” you sigh as you stare outside the glass window unheedingly and completely oblivious to your surroundings. 

“yes. you’ve said that a million times.” he carefully inches closer (as much as he can anyway) and bravely takes a whiff of your shampoo that never fails to fill and rouse his senses.

“i’m sorry,” you titter. “you must’ve gotten bored of hearing it.” 

“no, i like it.” he whispers audibly in your ear, just enough for both of you to hear. 

“i’m gla–” you’re suddenly startled when you feel something hard prodding against your ass. you start to feel uneasy and try to shift away but a pair of hands brazenly grab your breasts, almost making you yelp in surprise. 

“shh,” his hot breath fans over the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “don’t wanna make a scene.”

your heart instantly drops once you realize the person you trust most, a hero at that, is doing the very same thing he protected you from. you can see the vague reflection ahead– the way his hands are massaging your tits as he litters chaste kisses on the crook of your neck.

you attempt to pry his hands off of you, but he only grabs harder and pushes you closer to the front until your forehead presses against the cold glass.

“aizawa– stop.”

aizawa can hear panic lacing in your voice as you whimper but he simply brushes off your plea, too busy soothing his carnal needs by grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“no. you feel so good.” he nibbles your neck, sucking and biting the supple flesh to leave a bruising mark. 

“p-people are gonna see.” 

“that’d be really hot.” he hoists up your short skirt to prop his knees between your thighs before one of his hands guides your hip and compels you to grind your pussy against his own thigh. 

your eyes lingers around the crowd in the train, in between looking for help and hoping that no one sees what he’s doing to you but everyone’s either immersed in their phones or napping and even when someone does notice you, they just turn away uncomfortably. 

“looks like i’m the only hero in this train, kitten.” he says ironically as the hand from your hips snakes in front to rub circles on your clit. “feels good, does it?” he coos as you try to muffle your whines from escaping. 

you’re clawing on his wrist in an attempt to make him stop, but the harder you try to, the harder he presses your mound and clit.

aizawa slips two fingers inside your panties, barely biting back a groan once he uncovers you wet beneath his fingers. 

“what a surprise.” he chuckles, smearing his fingers with your slick before bringing it up to your mouth. “open up, kitten.” 

you purse your lips in retaliation but he easily rubs his thumb on your hardened nipple, causing you to gasp and he quickly shoves his fingers inside your mouth. your tongue wraps around his fingers, sucking and tasting your own flavor as he observes you through the reflection.

“you like how it tastes?” he pulls out his fingers from your mouth with a lewd pop sound before tugging your panties to the side and sliding a digit swiftly inside your cunt. a surprised yelp manages to roll off your tongue from the intrusion but you quickly look down to hide your humiliation and away from the peculiar gazes of others inside the coach.

aizawa hushes you as he thrusts his fingers slowly, savoring the tightness of your walls while also attempting to keep down the squelching noises from your dripping cunt. 

“it’s okay. most of them are going to step off soon, then you can be as loud as you want.” he murmurs, holding you close to his body while his other hand continuously rubs your nipple with his thumb to stimulate you even further until your world is reduced to his satisfying ministrations. 

as time passes by, more and more people have left the train while a few sleepers still remain. aizawa already has two fingers pumping inside your sopping cunt and your slick is already trickling down your thighs as you try hard to hold in your whines. 

“please– i can’t–” your legs have grown weaker and you can only find support by leaning back against his broad chest. your toes are curling inside your heels and your breath has come out shorter and deeper as he keeps on edging you until he thinks it’s safe to fuck you without the presence of other people seeing his unheroic actions.

“you wanna cum, pretty girl?” he finally picks up the pace, causing your body to squirm as you moan breathlessly. 

“y-yes– please–”

“you’re really sucking me in.” he groans, dragging and curling his fingers against the spongy walls that makes your thighs tremble as you edge closer to an orgasm. “cum for me.”

your hands are clenching hard on his forearm and you feel the muscles in your stomach tightening with so much intensity. with his finger pressing down on your throbbing bud, you eventually come undone and you bite on his arm to stifle your screams. 

“that’s it, princess. just what you need after a long day at work, huh?” he kisses your temple soothingly as you regain composure and struggle to fix your skirt, but he stops you from doing so. 

“aizawa..?” 

“i had a hard day at work too, you know.” he tugs your panties down to your ankles and picks it up. “i deserve something from you too, right? and i’m not talking about this.” you see him showing your panties through the glass before he shoves it inside his pocket.

aizawa wraps his scarf around your body and drags you to the middle of the coach. the fabric works as a bind around your wrists and ties onto the bar handle on top of your head to keep you restrained and exposed in front of a man that is sleeping in his seat. 

“let’s hope he doesn’t wake up soon, hm?” he chuckles and takes his place behind you. 

“you’re out of your–!” 

you can barely contain your shriek when aizawa suddenly rips off the middle of your blouse that sends the buttons flying across from you and he quickly slips his hands underneath your bra to fondle your breasts.

“careful not to wake him up, princess.” he tweaks your pebbled nipples between his fingers to provoke the slightest sound from you but you press your lips firmly to conceal your mewls. “or else he’s gonna see me fucking your tight cunt.”

aizawa spits on his hand and smears his saliva with your slick, making you shudder from sensitivity before his fingers prod into your hole to give you a few pumps in preparation for his cock. 

“i’ve been waiting for this for far too long.” he unzips his pants hastily to free his cock from its confinements and you gulp nervously when you see it in the reflection ahead– already throbbing and fully erected. aizawa lifts one of your legs up and rubs his shaft against your wet, puffy folds before lining his cock with your entrance. 

you look down at the man anxiously, praying silently for him to not wake up (or maybe just never at all) to see you with your legs spread in front of his face for god knows how long it’ll be. you bite your lower lip hard when you feel aizawa’s cock sinking inside your cunt, stretching it as he pushes through your walls. 

“shit. so fucking tight.” he growls in your ear as he sheathes his cock into you, pushing through your convulsing walls and until he has filled you to the brim. he starts to pound into you slowly and you bite back a moan when you feel the delicious drags of his veiny cock inside you.

his tongue traces the shell of your ear, licking all around the erogenous zone that has you shuddering and clenching down on him even more. 

“mmph– you’re milking my cock so well, kitten.” he grunts, flicking your nipple with his free hand before toying with your clit. 

“ah– he-he’s gonna wake up.” you pant, tugging your wrists for release as if the way it binds so securely doesn’t tell you enough that it would be impossible.

“then he’s gonna get one hell of a show.” he says nonchalantly before picking up his pace. 

the squelching noises begin to fill the quiet air as aizawa continues to fuck you relentlessly. your slick is dripping down to his balls and your thighs, pooling underneath you and you can feel that you’re close to reaching another orgasm.

as your state has become more delirious, the man in front of you suddenly grunts in his sleep and a cold rush of fear instantly creeps down your spine. yet, aizawa doesn’t seem bothered when he remains to be balls deep inside you.

“i think you’re getting off on this, princess.” he says between breaths, rutting into you harder when he feels how hard you’re clamping around his cock. 

“b-but– i’m gonna cum–” you whine, body squirming as you ground yourself to not cum.

your pussy is spread wide open in front of the man when aizawa easily lifts up your other leg. your heels have fallen under you and now you’re just practically hanging in mid air with his scarf and hands supporting your body. he angles deeper inside your cunny and your head throws back onto his shoulder when you feel the tip brushing against your cervix. 

“then, cum.” it’s baffling how he manages to make it sound simple, not having a care in the world as if his reputation isn’t in the line right now. “look at me.”

you shyly turn your head to meet his heavy lidded eyes before he crashes his lips onto yours. you drown into his fervor kiss while the pressure continues to build in your lower stomach turns more intense and unbearable. at this point, you think it’s best to just swallow your humiliation.

“let it go.” he whispers against your lips and locks his gaze with your wavering eyes. 

“f-fuck– cumming–!” you instantly draw in for a deep kiss to make him swallow your moans as you finally let yourself come undone. it feels oddly relieving in a sense that has your mind turned to mush, together with the feeling of an insurmountable high. the moment your eyes flutter open again, you realize that there are questionable droplets of water staining the glass window in front of you. 

“you’re a little exhibitionist, aren’t you?” he mocks, yet proud and even more aroused that he managed to make you squirt in a public transport. “he might need to clean up.” 

your eyes trail down to the man in front of you to see some amount of your own arousal trickling down on his poor face. you're so dazed with pleasure that you don’t even bother to care anymore and you just let aizawa fucks you through your high before his cock begins to twitch inside your pussy.

“be a good girl and take all my cum.” his pace soon falters and he holds you still before releasing a thick load inside your cunt. after he has emptied out, aizawa leans in the crook of your neck to catch his breath before removing his cock and putting you down gently. 

“that was fucking good.” he sighs gratifyingly as he pulls his pants back up. aizawa unties your restraints and your legs wobble once they touch the ground, but he quickly catches you in his arms to keep you from falling to the floor. as if on cue, the train finally comes to a halt.

“oh, we’re here.” he picks up your shoes and bag before pulling you closer to him to stand in front of the automatic door. “do you need me to carry you or something?”

you look at him confusingly, then to the small map above your head; you’re at least two stops away from your station and three from his. “but this isn’t our stop.”

“well, this one has always been mine.”

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[sinisterlyhan]

06. hwang hyunjin /  9259 words

badboy!hyunjin (kind of), virgin female reader, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, corruption kink, overstimulation, fingering, a little fluff

tw: overstimulation, faint yandere themes 

a/n: hello, josie! i might have dragged this out a little but i hope you like it, nonetheless 🙇🏻‍♀️💞

req: 

a bolt of lightning cracked through the night, rainy sky. the sound that erupted along with it was heinously loud, echoing through every corner of the city, and thus, startling you.

hyunjin furrowed his brows when you winced, your hands going up to your head so you could cover your ears upon nature's piercing attack against them.

"here, you can wear this."

clutched between hyunjin's fingers was an oversized hoodie, one you humbly asked for when the weather was beginning to get chilly further into the night, and you were unfortunately stuck with a simple t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts because you had not anticipated a thunderstorm tonight.

even with the heavy rain outside, you never planned on staying the night at your best friend's apartment. it wasn't unbearable in any way, you could still get on the bus and walk home by yourself. or, if push comes to shove, you would simply grab a cab and have it drive directly to your apartment building.

it genuinely wasn't anything to feel overwhelming concern about.

but hyunjin was not having any of your excuses when you told him you could still make your way home. the rain was pouring too heavily outside, he'd be damned if he ever let you go outside alone, even if it was to head back home.

it took him a whole lot of persuasion to get you to stay behind. it had started with short, playful threats, something along the lines of "hey, if you leave this house i'll chain you to the bed so you can't leave!" words that you didn't take too strongly to heart because he had been laughing when he said it.

however, when you began to insist against his wish, hyunjin suddenly opted for a much softer approach. he reasoned with you about it, telling you how dangerous it could be to head outside at this time of day and under such horrible weather.

you were already caving in half-way down his argument. his voice was toned down to a hush when he spoke to you, and you could never resist it when hyunjin puts down his stoic and aggressive facade in exchange for softness, all just so he could talk to you more calmly and carefully.

plus, he was looking out for your safety. it was indeed unsafe to head outside with the sky crying waterfalls down your head. the roads were slippery, the night was dark and cold, and the empty streets could be haunting.

hyunjin has a point when he wanted you to stay at his apartment for the night. but, despite all that, despite the logic and the consideration, what really got your heart tugging its strings was when he cooed at you to listen to him.

"come on, (name), be a good girl and listen to me, hmm?"

"thank you so much," you said meekly after putting your phone down on the table, trying to shake off the recollection of his low voice addressing you in such a seductive way.

he probably didn't intend for it to come off that way. hyunjin has always been a handful with his teases and laid-back affection. calling you names like that—this wasn't the first time, and unfortunately, he gets you every single time he shoots you a little "good girl," or a small "baby."

it was just what hyunjin does, he probably didn't mean anything by it. it was your mind that went south, being wishful and delusional that he might have said those words out of genuine affection.

"what did your parents say?" he asked after you received his hoodie. he slumped down on the couch next to you, his knee brushing against your bare one when he got into a more comfortable position.

"my dad offered to come and fetch me, but i told him it's fine since i don't want him to drive under this weather," you said, laughing a little as you spread open the hoodie and reached down to the hem. "they can be a little too worried sometimes, but i understand. especially since it's my first time staying over at a boy's home."

"what's so scary about that?" he commented nonchalantly, "it's not like i haven't stayed over at your home before."

you frowned at him, slightly annoyed by his tendency to refute everything your parents has to say about him or your friendship with him. even though you were two legs down on the same boat as him whenever your parents mentioned how much they didn't want you being friends with somebody like hyunjin.

they knew nothing about him, surely. but the piercings-decorated ears, the dyed long hair, the tattooed arms, and the bruises all over his skin were such dead giveaways of his character. not to mention they caught him sleeping in your room multiple times after he snuck in through the balcony window.

"they just don't want me to do anything stupid," you muttered.

"and what stupid thing can you do when you are trapped here alone with me?" he pressed on, eyeing you sharply. his voice was almost caught in a mocking tone as if he was making fun of you for not straightforwardly saying the word 'sex.'

but to be truthful, hyunjin was mostly disappointed that you would refer to that as something stupid. it was as if you could never see yourself laying in bed with him, at least not in intimate quarters.

"hmm, (name)? is it the same kind of stupid thing we could have done when i was hiding under your blanket the other night when your parents came to check your room?"

"hey, hey, what are you talking about," you nervously laughed as you stood up. lightly kicking his leg, you gave him a short frown. "don't make fun of me."

he didn't reply. he only watched as you busied yourself with wearing his hoodie. you pulled the hem to the side, giving yourself space as you raised your arms to lift the clothing above your head. his eyes traveled from the hoodie to your body, and for a split second, he could see the outline of your breasts through the tight shirt you wore.

shit, you took off your bra after showering and just never put it back on.

the sight was gone as quickly as it came. you pulled his hoodie over your head and down your torso, the end of it falling gracefully past your shorts to expose only the soft skin of your thighs.

"oh, okay, there we go," you hummed in satisfaction, pulling at the hoodie and fixing the cuffs. then you looked at hyunjin, smiling. "this feels really comfortable!"

he hummed with amusement, leaning his head to the side where his elbow was propped up on the armrest to focus on the television. and when you heard his laugh, you could only roll your eyes and gently kick him in the shin, assuming that he was making fun of your appearance.

but the laughter he had hung on his mouth was truly nothing more than an innocent facade used to hide the deep, seething lust masked beneath his bright brown eyes.

starting from something as trivial as the fresh rosy scent you smelt of after taking a shower, and the way his socks engulfed your small ankles, to something as knees-tightening as the sight of your nipples poking through your thin shirt and the shower water that once trickled past your delicate skin.

and now his hoodie, covering your small figure. your small, throwaway, fuckable body.

he has never had to control himself this much before. surely, he has had his fair share of dirty fantasies before, but he would only allow those vile thoughts when he was alone and able to take care of it by himself.

all those filthy things he wanted to do to you; the way he could make you scream, the way you would taste on his tongue, the way you would feel around his much bigger self—he threw them all away, unlike the way he would usually deal with them, which was to simply get his way.

"ah!" you flinched again, a yelp leaving your lips when another bolt of lightning zapped through the air.

hyunjin looked over at you, his brow raising at your curled up body. you had pulled your legs up to your chest in an attempt to appear smaller and tighter, to hug yourself to your body as if that would stop the sky from exploding.

it was adorable, the way your eyes squinted and your hands curled into tiny fists to hide under his sleeve. but what he cared about the most was how you had chosen to fall to his side, your head hitting his arm and your body snuggling up next to his unpredictably.

"they're just lightning, dumbass," he commented, yet still reaching an arm over your body to pull you close. “nothing scary about it. it’s not like they can reach indoors.”

"yeah, but they're really loud," you retorted, looking up at him with wide eyes and casually brushing your legs against his. "i got surprised!"

hyunjin sighed after he glanced down at you. your sparkly eyes looking at him in an almost taunting manner, telling him you have no idea what you were doing to him, with the exposed collarbones and the bare legs and the fresh smell coming from your body.

you were clueless. it was your blatant innocence that pushed all his dirty desires to the back of his head. and he has willed himself not to make any move on you because he wanted to preserve that purity within your heart and your core. at least until it was prime time for him to break you down, that was.

(and oh, how he would completely ruin you from inside out when he gets the permission to do so.)

"how can you get surprised even after it happened twice in a row," he rolled his eyes, then he laughed, pulling you into a playful headlock, "admit it, you just wanna get close to me, don't you?”

with that said, you immediately pulled yourself away. albeit, it did take you a hesitant moment to be able to slip out of hyunjin’s chokehold (hilariously, he was the one unwilling to let you go), but you managed by ducking your head and quickly pulling yourself away. when you were finally free of his grasp, he could see that your face had started to heat up from his words, a faint blush adorning your cheeks.

hyunjin widened his eyes. there was only amusement on his face, not one inch of his mind was taking you seriously when you looked so uptight yet tiny in the process of trying to pull yourself together.

“woah–what, i can’t be surprised by thunder anymore?” you defended, pulling your face at him to try to get the attention off your flusteredness. “you–you try going about one a normal day and being interrupted by that loud, freaking thing in the sky–yah!”

as if the sky could hear your intolerant insult, it countered back with a round of humongous thunderclaps, the flashing of the lighting so bright that it was as if someone took a picture of the living room with flash on.

you let out a high-pitched squeal at the sight, your eyes widening, and immediately your first instinct was to fall forward onto hyunjin to hide away from the intruding weather.

hyunjin was ready to catch you. for a second, he was still able to breathe out a laugh at your reaction. but when you have finally dropped on top of him, your body leaning against his chest and your small hand gripping his inner thighs, the space close to where his hardened cock was, he found his heart stuttering.

to make the matter worse, when your clumsy-self decided to sit up upon hearing the gasp that he has let out, your eyes afraid as you thought you had injured him, you only fell forward with an airy trip, your hand scooting over to palm his cock directly.

"shit–" he moaned when your bodyweight forced the pressure down on him, his eyes glowing a shade of lust as he glared at your red cheeks and widened eyes.

"oh–oh, no! i'm sorry, i didn't mean–woah!"

you opened your shut-tight eyes only after you felt your back hit the surface of the couch. you couldn't move your legs nor your body, having been trapped under hyunjin's weight after he tackled you down with your hands pinned to the side of your head.

his mind blanked out there, he wasn't sure where he got this sudden courage from.

it wasn't the courage to pin you on a surface. oh no. he has been doing that in his head many times now, he would have no problem enacting it in real life. not to mention the way you were always rendered speechless with dazed eyes and drool dripping down your chin in his head. he would be stupid to pass up an opportunity to make you all messy like that.

it was the courage to break through his self-control, to finally let your endearing innocence go and finally give himself the chance to see if you were capable of being fucked until you couldn't think about anything else, of being ruined beyond repair.

it was all he could think about when he caught your eyes.

"are you sure you didn't mean to do that?" he asked in a hiss, his breathing heavy and loud. "you know, you've been teasing me the whole night, (name). i'm starting to think you might actually be a fucking whore."

the soft fringes of his hair tickled your skin, but nothing could have diverted your attention from the proximity between the both of you. his face was so close, so heart-flutteringly close yet so painstakingly far that you still weren't kissing him yet.

"why are you not saying anything, hmm?" he muttered near your ear. "don't tell me you're actually this clueless about sex, are you?"

the tip of his nose ghosting down the side of your neck until he found a spot he could leave a mark on.

it was a hesitant kiss. he waited for you to try and push him away, and he had planned to resist your protest to see if you would have a change of heart and allow him the privilege to finally feel you up. but you didn't, you simply laid there, heavy breaths leaving your mouth and knees pressing together as he sucked a harsh bruise on your skin.

hyunjin smirked upon your lack of protest, his heart simmering with joy as he relentlessly attacked your neck with kisses and sucks until he left you with a short pool of hickeys.

you whimpered at the feeling; slightly painful, but also very new and intriguing at the same time. besides, you knew that hyunjin was sucking marks onto your neck, and oh—how alluring was that? being claimed as his, having the presence of his teeth on your body.

you loved it and so did he.

"you still haven't answered my question, baby doll," he said after pulling away, his eyes briefly admiring the purples on one side of your neck before returning to you.

he raised a brow at your flushed cheeks, his grip around your wrist tightening unconsciously as he imagined the way you would look with this hazy expression and your naked body—sweating, blissful, and completely fucked out of your head.

"wh–what question...?" you asked, your voice small and timid before his enticingly lustful eyes.

hyunjin chuckled. he had a feeling that he might be frightening you with this new side of him, and the ego boost it gave him was immaculate. god, you're so small, so timid, so easy to control—it was exactly the way he wanted it.

"are you this clueless about sex?” he mumbled, letting go of your wrist slowly by sliding his hand down along your arm, going further and further down until his fingers were dancing around your exposed thighs. "or are you just faking it?"

"i–" you cut off with a gasp, your knees immediately pinching together as your body flinched at the sudden brush of his fingers against your clothed core.

hyunjin raised a brow. he moved his index finger, adding more pressure to the middle of your pussy while his thumb blindly found your clit. you sucked in loudly, your eyes casting away from his face as your back arched off the couch at the new feeling.

"huh... you really aren't faking it," he purred under his breath, rubbing circles against your clothed clit to bring out a hefty response from you. "well, it's not like i doubted you or anything. you couldn't even curse properly, let alone being fucked raw."

his hand left your core then, eager and impatient. moving up to the waist of your shirt, he fumbled around with the button and the zipper, his eyes focusing on the way your face scrunched up without a word of denial. you simply laid there, letting him do whatever he wanted, dots of doubt clouding your eyes.

his hand slipped under your denim shorts, his hand rubbing across the surface soothingly first before his finger tugged at the hem of your panties. and he attempted to pull them off your hips finally, wanting nothing more than to leave your lower-half naked for him.

you let out a short yelp of surprise when you sensed that you would have nothing but the hoodie to cover yourself up after he gets rid of them. the thought of that made you shudder. you couldn't even muster up the courage to look at yourself in the mirror, let alone letting hyunjin (of all people) see you, touch you, play you.

noticing your agitation, he furrowed his brows and, for a moment, seemingly wanted to stop what he was doing. perhaps he was taking it too far, perhaps you only didn't protest against it because you wanted to please him, to take care of his feelings because that's what you always do.

you were always so damn nice to him. sometimes he feels like all he does is take you for granted.

"i–actually–sorry, shit," he cursed, his hand leaving your opened shorts as he released your wrist. "i'm sorry, god–fuck, what am i doing?"

"hyunjin," you whispered out, surprised at the sudden change of mood.

sitting up, your eyes chased after his aggressive expression and you frowned. he was blaming himself for something, perhaps for what he had apologized for. "hyunjin, are you okay?"

"yeah, i am. just..." he huffed out in annoyance, not looking at you. "i'm sorry, i should have asked first before i did all that. i don't even know if you are comfortable with something like that, shit."

"oh! no, no, i'm actually–well, yes, it would have definitely been nice if you had asked first, hyunjin. that i do agree with." you nodded to yourself with all seriousness, then you burst out of it and turned to him, your eyes bright. "but it's okay! i–uh, i..."

your hands fumbled about in the air, your face scrunched up with shy embarrassment. you weren't sure how you should go about saying you wanted to try it out, whatever hyunjin was just doing to you, you had wanted him to continue.

"i'm just shy, and i have never tried this before, that's why i might look like i don't like it but i–i promise i do!" you said, waving your hands and laughing awkwardly. "besides, if i am to do this with anybody, i think i'll be the most comfortable doing it with you, hyunjin."

his eyes widened. that was not the kind of response he was expecting to get. it was great to know that you felt comfortable enough with him to go this far with the intimacy, but he hadn't expected you to confess to him this way. and right now, looking at you, all he could think about was kissing you, hard on the mouth.

you squealed when he reached out for your face, his fingers gripping your cheeks tightly as he pulled you toward him. his lips brushed firmly against yours, finally, molding perfectly with the shape of your mouth as he kissed you with an infinite amount of desperation.

he was pushing you down again, his body pressing close to yours this time while he concentrated on the feeling of your lips. he was moving quickly, at a pace you couldn't catch up on, therefore making the kiss sloppy and ugly. but neither of you cared. you two have had your affections for each other concealed for too long to break out of this kiss.

opening his mouth, hyunjin harshly bit on your bottom lip, pulling at it to gain a small moan out of you. his hand roamed down from your face to your legs, his hand raking up your thighs to your shorts, and he finally finished with getting it off of you and throwing it to the ground.

"tell me when you want me to stop, okay?" he pulled away from a moment to speak, his eyes staring into yours quietly while his fingers moved near your naked core. "because i don't plan to stop from here on, i won't be able to."

you looked up at him, your heart beating loudly. the air brushed against the lips of your pussy, a cold sensation awaiting for several digits of warmth that would be welcomed between your tight walls as soon as you give the cue. and you felt weirdly excited; scared and excited, with a perfectly weird mixture of arousal dripping along your heart.

"okay, i will," you told him, and he smiled.

"good girl," he praised, rubbing the side of your head. "this is going to feel great, i promise.”

and he was right. it did feel great. it felt new, weird; you have never had anything shoved into your pussy before, not even your own fingers. your first reaction was to clench your legs shut, your knees wanting to desperately close together upon the feeling of hyunjin’s index finger slipping between your lips. but he had stopped you just in time, a hand holding onto your knee and pushing your legs apart for more access.

your walls were clenching down on him hard as well. the unfamiliar feeling has got your entire body going on defense mode, and hyunjin wasn’t sure if he found it hilarious or arousing. he has not met anyone like you in a long while, most people he encountered before were experienced and polished. this was probably his first time having to hold someone’s hand and walk the process through with.

not that he was against the idea of that, though. you might think being inexperienced would be one of your shortcomings, but the superiority your shyness was giving hyunjin was everything he could ask for from the gods above. and for once, he felt like he could take care of you instead of having it be the other way around.

“it’s okay, doll, just concentrate on my hand,” he whispered against your ear, his finger sliding in and out slowly to give you time to adjust to the sensation, to wait for the feeling to consume you when your walls could finally register the friction. “i got you, doll. i’ll make you feel real nice, okay?”

your voice became more and more confident as they turned from letting out short, whimsical breathes to giving him cute, lovely whimpers. the quicker his fingers pumped, the more you could feel your abdomen tightening with a hurried sensation, something akin to the feeling of needing to release.

“jin–hyunjin–“ you moaned out, your face flushed pink and your small hands tightening around his shoulders. “i–ahh!“

you huffed out a breath, your toes curling when he didn’t slow down. instead, he added his fourth finger, slipping it into your cunt quickly and seamlessly before he started to fuck both fingers into your heat, going in and out at a satisfactory pace that made your inexperienced mind see stars. he smirked at your reaction, the lack of words an indirect approval to what he was doing.

“there we go, baby doll,” he said, your slickness rubbing along his skin and lubing his fingers up perfectly. the squelching sound became louder and louder as he stretched you out by moving his fingers in a scissoring motion, occasionally curling them to hit the top for more pressure. “it feels good, doesn’t it? hmm? don’t be shy, tell me how it feels.”

“ye–yes, hyunjin!” you nodded, your eyes darting everywhere on the ceiling. the weird sensation in your tummy was magnifying with each thrust, you could feel the explosion approaching and you didn’t know how to prepare for it. you could only focus on his hands; in, out, in, out. quicker, stronger, thrusting into your hole as if it was the most entertaining thing to do.

“it feels good, it feels–hyunjin i–my tummy–“

you kept trying to hold it in. whatever it was that would spill out of you, you had no idea if he would like that, and you’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t something normal. hyunjin, upon hearing your incoherent words, furrowed his brows slightly and slowed down his pace, unsure if you were trying to get him to stop.

“what is it, baby?” he asked carefully, kissing your cheek and not letting his lips leave your face.

“oh, it’s gone, it’s–there was this weird feeling,” you mumbled to him. “i felt like… like i wanted to pee, or something.”

ah. the light flooded into his eyes, understanding what you meant and immediately feeling the itch of his cock and the twitch of his fingers. that was what got you all messed up—an orgasm. god, how fucking despicable! you couldn’t even properly understand the concept of it, you naive little doll. how would you be like when he let you have one, hmm?

your first orgasm, given by none other than himself. fuck, just thinking about it made him so excited!

he finally let out a chuckle after moments of self-contemplation. he kissed your cheek, your cute chubby cheek. then his hand got to moving, really moving; his fingers were pounding into you, hitting your insides in a hurried pace because he wanted so desperately to get you back to where you were.

it did not take you long. the surprise overwhelmed you quickly and he has you moaning in no time. the tension in your tummy built itself right back up upon the incredible pace, your eyes flashing brightly as the whiteness consumed your mind. hyunjin focused on your face, his eyes sharp as a hawk as he observed all parts of your precious face.

your eyes shut, your lips quirked down, your brows arched up as bliss took over your body—you looked so pretty, it was unreal. the fact that he was causing it felt even more unbelievable.

a final moan brought your release then, your walls clenching down on his fingers as your essence spilled along your walls, coving his fingers up. you have never felt this wet before. how peculiar, you could feel the essence in your pussy, feeling it coat hyunjin’s finger with bubbles of whiteness.

hyunjin smiled to himself, contentment sprouting within his chest when you slumped onto the surface of the couch after your first orgasm, already looking dizzy and tired.

how adorable. he was barely done with you.

wait until he put his cock in you and you’d be done for.

“good job, baby doll,” he praised, kissing your eyes and your mouth before sitting up.

his fingers slipped out of your pussy, letting your cool down for a moment before he held it up to his face. he smirked at the glistening arousal, all sticky and bubbled up like white glue. he couldn’t stop looking at his fingers and the cum adorning the digits; how pretty, it all came from you, it all came from your insides!

you almost thought he planned to lick his fingers and suck off the juices in front of you. but instead, hyunjin reached down to his sweats and carefully pushed it off his hips. your chest rose at the sight of his member, stuffed beneath his tight boxers and aching to be let out to breathe. and you immediately looked away when he noticed you staring with wide eyes, your face once again getting hot.

“aww, is my baby shy?” he asked out loud, a hint of giggle covering his voice as he pushed his boxers down with one hand, preserving his other one simply because he had other plans with it. “look at me, (name).”

you did as he was told, your head turning slowly until the sight of his red cock came into view. you sucked in a silent breath, feeling shy beyond imagination. that was… that was big, it looked big. that was the only word you knew to describe it—big, and probably unfitting for your small hole.

“nothing to be shy about,” hyunjin hummed as he caught your eyes. he raised a brow suggestively, his cum-filled fingers finally moving down to wrap themselves around his shaft. he spread the arousal all over himself, lubing it up as much as he could while groaning to himself. “it’s going to be in you anyway because i’m fucking you with it.”

fuck, just the smallest bit of your cum on his cock as enough to make him feel so euphoric. he could not imagine actually feeling your walls around him.

pumping himself a few more times to get himself wet, hyunjin finally moved down to get closer to your body. he eyed you carefully at first, his eyes trailing over your covered torso and wondering if he wanted to rip the clothes off your body.

agh! what a dilemma! being able to see you completely naked would be a blessing, truly. but oh, to fuck you when you were dressed in his hoodie, looking so small and so helpless, was a dream in of itself.

pouting slightly, he moved his hand over to the hem of the hoodie. however, instead of clutching it, he only slipped his hands underneath the fabric so he could roam his hands up your warm body. the end of the hoodie bucked up to your stomach, exposing your lower body and a part of your tummy before his hands finally met your bare breasts.

you exhaled when he cupped the rounds in his hand, massaging it eagerly and feeling the softness of your boobs. there was a lost look in his eyes, his head drowning in nothing but bubblegum lust upon being able to feel your body up physically. how long has he dreamt of this? many, many times. and just as his dreams were, your body was soft and small, completely catered towards his liking.

you were made for him; for him to squeeze, for him to fuck, for him to love. you were made for him, you were his.

hyunjin slowly leaned down to your face, his body coving yours entirely as one of his hand left your breast to his cock. he guided himself to your entrance, his tip rubbing along your slit for teasing purposes. the gasp you let out was amusing, because he could feel you subconsciously buck your hip up for more.

so shy yet so damn enthusiastic. ah, hell, he loves it so much, it’s unreal!

“feel that, baby doll?” he asked, pushing himself in slightly just for a taste.

“ye–yeah,” you nodded meekly.

“mmhm? do you want more? tell me you want more,” he urged then, lathering himself over your slit and poking through your hole once in a while. “say it out loud. tell me you want me to fuck you.”

the soreness in your neck burned with hesitation. hyunjin was approaching you with such sudden demands, demands that you were still too shy to fulfill. but you also really wanted to feel him inside of you despite the fear of the unknown.

he was literally at the entrance already. it would only take you a few beg to feel the heavenly bliss like the one he has given you before; the friction against your walls, the stretchy feeling of your hole, the impactful thrusts of his cock—mmm!

“please… plea–please fu…” you pursed your lips, cheeks red and hands covering your mouth until your voice was muffled. “please fuck me, hyunjin.”

“i can’t hear you with the sleeves covering your mouth,” he cooed demandingly, caressing your cheek until he impulsively gave it a light smack. he smiled at you, impatient about having to hold himself back when he was so close to tasting heaven.

“you’re going to have to speak the fuck up, baby doll.”

you trembled at the way his eyes growled. they have darkened with exasperation, desperate and yearning for more so he could satiate the lust-filled in his chest. you wouldn't dare to disobey him, but having to say such filthy words were also so demeaning, you weren't sure if you could proudly do it.

your silence burned his anger. hyunjin cracked under his desire quickly when he pushed himself slightly into you again. your walls engulfed his tip, and the warmth made him realize he has made a grave mistake. now all he could think about doing was to slam himself inside your cunt, fucking you raw and messy.

"fine," he growled under his breath, discarding your disobedience to the side as he slipped his hand out of your shirt and reached out to grab your arms.

he pinned your hands on top of your head, pinning one wrist over the other before his much larger hand tightly bounded them together with a death grip, pushing your wrists down on the couch surface.

"don't say anything then," he muttered, breathing down your neck. "i'll get you begging for more soon anyway."

the second his voice dropped, he spared no time to push himself inside you, stretching you out painfully.

your eyes snapped open, wide with tears as the burning sensation riddled your core. your arms moved, struggling against hyunjin's stronger grip miserably while your legs bent at the impact of his thick girth.

"ah–no! no, no! it hurts!"

you inhaled a choked gasp when he slowed down, seemingly snapping out of his trance from enjoying the way you felt far too much. the tears that once brimmed behind your eyes rolled down your cheeks, the pain subsiding very slowly as he had stopped pushing himself entirely.

hyunjin looked at you, his brows furrowed with concern. oh no, he was not hoping for this. he knew it would hurt you, considering this was your first time having sex, but he hadn't actually thought about what to do, neither did he expect you to cry from the stretch.

god, why did he have to be so sloppy and unprepared all the time? and he wanted to take care of you? what a damn joke.

"i'm sorry, i know it hurts but–i can stop if you want me to, baby," he whispered, running a hand through the side of your face and caressing your cheek to wipe away the tear stains.

you were quick to shake your head, glancing down at him with a soft smile. "no, it's okay, i can–you can keep going."

he stared at you as if giving you time to opt-out if you were to have any second thoughts. but you didn't. you were ready for this, and that was because it was hyunjin hovering above you and not somebody else.

if you were going to have sex, if you were going to lose your virginity, it has got to be him and nobody else.

your determined eyes were the cue he needed to keep going, not before he double-checked and made sure you knew you had ultimate control over whether this session would keep going or not.

hyunjin, very carefully this time, pushed himself further into your heat when you were ready. your walls clenched down on him, adding pressure to his cock and giving him a very tempting sensation. but he reminded himself to hold back for a while, to wait until it was easier to move before he would begin to devour you whole.

it was getting extra hard, though. your walls were pulling him to a stop with how tight you were.

"shh, shh, hey, i know, i know," he whispered in between the peppering of kisses on your face, his free hand rubbing your sides to calm your pained whimpers down as he pushed himself to the hilt.

"you are doing so great, baby doll. you feel so good around me, you're heavenly–mm, fuck!" he cursed, dipping his head to your neck when you suddenly clenched around him. he wasn't sure if that was a voluntary action or not. either way, you were driving damn crazy. "ugh–you make me want to fuck you so bad!"

you forced yourself to take in heavy breathes, letting the calmness flow through your body while you acknowledged the thick shaft stuffed between your private walls. you felt full, you could feel yourself wrapped up around him and you felt stuffed, in the best way possible.

"hyunjin, you can move," you said quietly, eyeing him. "just... not too quickly."

he laughed, fondly. he raked his hand through your hair, rubbing your scalp gently as he brushed the hair out of your face. his eyes were softer now, for a brief moment at least. you could see the lust vanishing to be replaced with warm affection.

"okay, baby," he said, watching you carefully as he pulled out before shoving himself back in, slow and sensual so you could adjust to him. "is this good for you, mm?"

you nodded, finding yourself enjoying the way his cock moved along your walls more and more. it was an unexplainable feeling. there was this punch to your gut every time his tip hit you deep inside, an electric feeling that rained over you each time.

it felt good, really good. and you wanted more, rapidly and hardly.

hyunjin repeated the slow movement, again and again, his sight blurring when he noticed the shift in your voice. your uncomfortable purrs were turning into moans, louder and more dragged out moans, so breathy and hot that he could feel the temptation in his dick burn.

he discreetly picked up his pace, unable to fully hold himself back from intensely ramming into your small body. he didn't want to hurt you again, but goddamn it, he needed to feel more of you, and to hear more, to see more.

much to his delight, the only response you gave him after he started to thrust at a more satisfying speed was to moan louder. his cock brushed against your walls, even if you were more comfortable now, your small hole was still sticking to his skin perfectly and building up the tension in his abdomen.

there was bliss attached to his name when it spilled from your mouth, making him feel over the moon to know that he's made you feel this way, making him snap his hips harder into your pussy to earn more noises out of you.

"ahh–hyunjin, hyunjin i'm–" you moved your arms, your fingers moving against each other above your head, unable to get out of his hold. pursing your lips then, feeling the releasing feeling in your abdomen again, you dipped your head to look at him and you whined, "it's that, again, the feeling–ahh."

and he could tell, he could just tell that you were nearing your second orgasm again when his name started to come in broken sounds. it made him want to coo; you inexperienced little thing, how quickly have you reached your maximum threshold for pleasure already?

he hasn't even let his desires free yet.

"you wanna cum, hmm?" he asked, knowing well that you do. "you gotta tell me baby, or else i can't help you with it."

you blushed, your hands wanting to move to your mouth out of instinct, but they were trapped under hyunjin's tough grip for the time being. the only thing you could do was as he asked of you to—tell him you wanted him to fuck you until you cum.

"i... i want–mm," you looked away for a brief moment, feeling embarrassed. "i want to cum... ple–please, hyunjin."

"see? that's wasn't so hard, was it, dolly?" he grinned, leaning down to your face to bit the side of your jaw out of impulse. when his lips dragged up to your ear, he whispered, "feel free to let go when you want to."

the next second overwhelmed you. he had pulled himself out until his tip almost left your sticky hole, leaving you with an empty feeling. but when he slammed himself in the next second, wordlessly and without any warning, he simply did not stop his advances. he continued with the same quick pace and the same strength, thrusting into you in hopes to chase your high and give you what you wanted.

you squealed at the newfound feeling of his tip reaching deeper and deeper within your cunt. your back arched into his chest, your limbs trembling at the force of his hips ramming into yours and your eyes rolling up upon the tension building up in your cunt.

"ah–fuck, fuck–oh my god!" you huffed out, feeling your release approaching until your toes curled and your voice gave out at the actual climax.

"there we go, dolly, good job," he muttered, planting kisses along your neck.

you breathed heavily, letting the stars fade away from your eyes and calming down for a moment. and when your consciousness finally returned to you, as did the soreness in your joints and your heat, your brows furrowed at the feeling of your hole still being stuffed full of his cock.

hyunjin was still going.

he buried his face at the crook of your neck, moans and grunts letting out of his lips as he rutted in and out of your heat like a dog, feeling the warmth of your essence and your walls all over him. you were still tight around him because of the previous orgasm, and he was taking his chance to feel as much friction as he could.

you laid on your back, your eyes facing up the ceiling as you felt the pleasurable feeling slowly build itself back up in your abdomen. you huffed, unsure if it was supposed to happen that way and slightly overwhelmed with the soreness in your cunt.

"hyunjin–"

"what?" he growled under his breath, continued to snap his hips against yours.

"i feel a little–huh, fuck!"

your body pulsated at the hit against your g-spot. it wasn't like any other thrusts, this one made you want to scream out loud, this one was like butterflies flapping in your stomach but magnify the feeling, this one made you want more even though you felt like you could barely take more thrusts in your used hole.

"ahh–fuck, hyunjin, what is–"

he kept hitting the spot, hard and quick, giving you one zap of pleasure after another. the euphoric sensation rushed over your head, your legs automatically moving up to his back so your walls clench down on him, narrowing his path for a better aim.

it felt good, it felt so good, you couldn’t think about anything else but to anticipate having the spot be repeatedly pounded into.

wanting to look up at you solely to catch the lewd look on your face when he hit your sweet spot, hyunjin found it impossible to remove himself from your rosy neck as he focused on the build-up of his own orgasm. it was approaching quicker and quicker, your walls knowing how to clench around him just fine.

his hand roamed your side, squeezing your breast and finally resting on your tummy. he sniffed your scent, his hand desperately pressing down on your stomach until he could feel his tip poke out from the inside. the bulge made his heart jump with a passionate burn, it made him groan in approval.

god, how was this possible. you were truly made for him—so small and so innocent. he was gonna tear you apart, he swore.

"jin–more, more, please–" you yearned, arching your back off as your eyes widened with lust. his had increased his speed even more, the hip-stuttering kind, making you see spots in whiteness as your mouth spilled the words you once deemed too embarrassing to say.

your legs pushed against his back, trying to bring him closer. you begged, desperately, for more and more. "please, fuck me, fuck me–ahh–"

you words were nothing short of arousing for him. who would have thought he would ever hear you say those things? 

the moans you let out has got hyunjin cuming in no time, his cock twitching in your warm hole before his exasperated release, his cum spilling into your hole and filling you up.

"ahh, fuck!" he grunted loudly, his eyes shutting at the relieving feeling.

you felt the warmth coating your walls, your eyes widening in the realization that hyunjin came inside of you. the thought made you feel hot and dirty, so shy and bothered.

he kissed your collarbones, his lips dragging up to yours before he kissed you. you moaned into his mouth, feeling his hand move down from your tummy to your pussy. his finger pressed against your clit, rubbing it in circles to get you to your climax again.

he pushed into you, riding out his orgasm and helping you chase your third one tonight. you tried to move away from his mouth, wanting to moan freely, but hyunjin remained on top of your lips, finding it extremely alluring to eat away at your desperate noises.

your muffled noises got louder and louder as he became more aggressive, forcing himself inside you and pinching your sweet spot again and again. soon enough, you let out a silent scream upon feeling the knot in your abdomen burst, your essence rushing along your walls again to add more in your already full hole.

your entire body shut down then; your legs slipped down from hyunjin's back and your back falling on the couch. he watched you quietly, a manic gleam present in his eyes as his hand unconsciously gripped your nails-marked wrists tighter.

"dolly...? how are you doing, hmm?" he asked softly, not pulling out of you as he leaned his face down to hover over yours. your eyes found his slowly, and he couldn't find a trace of recognition in them. "aww, no way. have i messed you up?"

he could hear giggles in his head, a crazily satisfied giggle. this was the look, this was it! this was the face he has been dying to see on you! the dazed, lost, exhausted, completely fucked out look; mouth agape, lids trembling, chest heaving, and voice grumbling.

pretty, pretty, pretty! how pretty! you're absolutely broken and you look gorgeous! he wanted to do it again, he wanted to tear you apart again!

pulling out of you, he moved away from you and scooted down your torso. his hands clutched your ankles, bringing your legs up and causing the hoodie to slide down your thighs. spreading your feet apart, his eyes widened in anticipation upon seeing your dripping heat, the gooey whiteness slowly oozing out of your pretty, quivering hole.

looking up at you, he tentatively moved his fingers over your slit. you flinched immediately at his touch, a soft cry leaving your lips.

he raised a brow—very sensitive.

fun.

without further warning, he moved closer to you and pushed the hoodie further up your stomach. laid between your legs, hyunjin carefully inserted two fingers into your holes, gathering your cum in his hands and pumping in and out slowly.

your walls clenched at the sensation of being played with again. too sore, your cunt was too sore and your mind was too hazy to register the incoming pleasure that all you could think about was to stop it.

your legs quickly forcing themselves shut. but hyunjin has got one hand curled around your ankle, pushing you open to keep you accessible.

"it's okay, baby doll," he said gently, humming close to your heat. "you can take another one, you will take another one."

"huh!" you gasped out in pleasant surprise, your head perking up when you felt his lips smooch your heat. "jin–hyunjin–what are you doi–ahh!"

he hummed against your cunt, his tongue running a slow line up your slit before he kissed it, taking the cum into his mouth and spitting out the saliva mixed with it. his hand continued to rub your clit, stimulating you and causing tremors along your spine.

fuck, how delicious you taste. this was better than anything he could ever imagine—all the other people he's slept with, all the dreams he's consumed at night. they could never compare to this, having your cunt in front of him and his tongue catching every last drop of you.

not a single drip to waste. he has to have all of you in his system because everything about you belongs to him. your essence, your body, your mind, your heart—everything. you are his.

your moans were starting to get thick and airy, your senses blurring together into one. all you could think about was his tongue, fucking you rapidly with flicks and thrusts; his plump lips kissing your pussy, his teeth occasionally grazing your skin; hist thumb circling your clit, pressing and pinching you.

pleasure, there was only pleasure. so overwhelming that you could feel tiny, soft little pains present in your chest. too much but not nearly enough—you wanted more, the sweet poison, you wanted all of it.

"fuck! hyunjin, please, i wanna cum," you begged, tongue swiping across your dry lips and saliva gathering at the tip to drip down your chin. "hyunjin more, more, please! i wan–wanna cum!"

he smirked. such filthy things to say! you even cursed, and it was all for him! how endearing. he almost couldn't remember how you were like before he completely turned you into his sex-crazed doll.

ah, that innocent little girl you once were. how adorable, how foreign. if he could revert you to that, he would, just so he could corrupt you all over again.

"just cum, baby," he mumbled against your heat. "let me swallow all of you."

your body clenched at the pleasure, the overstimulation pushing you to the edge and shoving you down. your senses fell, rapidly, and you spilled yourself all over his face.

hyunjin kissed your hole up, flicking his tongue and gathering up all your juices into his mouth, cleaning you up with his mouth. your warm juices stained his tongue like fine wine, he gulped down down his throat with ease.

you were trembling during the process. even the smallest feeling of his lips near your core was enough to make you shiver. a moment of relief spread through your chest when you finally saw him stand up, leaving your half-naked body on the couch as he walked to the bathroom.

hyunjin headed out with a towel, wet with warm water. he sat by the edge of your head and gently held your body up, his eyes frowning when you winced at the movement.

he pulled you to his chest, letting you lean on him to rest. one hand going around your waist, his other hand reluctantly brushed at your leg. when you shrunk away, he flinched as well, but he was quick to bounce back to his senses to comfort you.

"hey, it's okay, i'm just going to clean you up, okay?" he informed softly, kissing your temple to distract you while he gripped the back of your thigh to pull your leg up.

his hand went down to your exposed cunt, the warm cloth in his hand turning before he slowly wiped you down, cleaning you up carefully. you laid there in his arm, breathing out quick pants and keeping down your sensitive flinches so he could take care of you easier.

"you did such a good job, baby," he whispered, continuing to pat you down. "you have no idea how well you took me. you did so well, and you made me feel so happy."

sweet, sweet words flooded your ears. you blushed at them, acting as if they were just your daily compliments and not about how great you have been, laying there and taking his cock like a stupid toy. either way, you were beyond delighted to know that you have made him feel good, as he did you.

"thank you for making me feel so good as well," you mumbled, bringing his hand up to kiss the back of his palm. "it wasn't as scary as everyone says it'd be. and i like it, it feels..." you hummed, "good. it feels good."

"i'm glad you liked it." hyunjin giggled. "may–maybe we can... do it again... some time."

that was a blind shot. even though he just had sex with you, he wanted to be sure where you two were.

"oh, sure, i'd... i'd like that...?" you laughed, feeling shy as you played with his fingers. "hmm, how are we gonna tell my parents about this..."

"about us having sex?” he asked incredulously, although not much opposing the idea. to have your parents know how he has ruined their little daughter’s mind and filled you up? god, he wondered how they would react knowing that their little girl loves him enough to let him do that.

"no! about you being my boyfriend, please!" you waved your hands at him, amused. "i mean... unless that didn't actually mean anything–"

"it did! it definitely did–oh god, yes!” he exclaimed, his hands fumbling suddenly as he dropped the cloth in his hand. his mind went into a frenzy, not quite sure what he could do except kissing you all over your face. “thank god!"

the smile on his face was dazzling to look at. you felt your heart pump excitedly upon his enthusiasm. seeing him so happy about being in an official relationship with you was surprisingly fulfilling and reliving, perhaps it was because you have spent so long thinking you didn't deserve him only to realize you have been wrong the whole time.

"oh, i love you so much," he muttered, hugging you close to his chest as he kissed your cheek, rocking you two from side to side.

you laughed. it was amusing to see him act all mushy like this. nobody outside would believe it if they see him now, all loving and clingy.

turning your head away from his incoming kiss attacks, your eyes caught sight of the window and the scenery outside.

oh, how peculiar. the thunder has stopped.

[volleychumps]

Requesting cheating angst with Kuroo, Iwaizumi, Akaashi, and Atsumu? Rip my heart apart please😌😌♥️

oH SHIT let’s do a remix on the fluff for this one post, everybody- I’m in an angsty mood so uh, eskettit :( I couldn’t make it past Akaashi’s scenario and I had so many breaks, so proceed at your own risk, everyone! 

Turn and Keep Going. (Kuroo, Iwaizumi, and Akaashi) - angst -

TW: CHEATING, CURSING, ANGST- no fr I ugly cried and I wrote it

Kuroo

“Y/N. Where do you keep the extra towels again?”

You didn’t mean to see it. In fact, if you had the choice on whether or not you did- 

you would have chosen not to. 

The phone in your hand became tightened in an iron-clad grip as a chuckle with a nervous tinge to it slipped Kuroo’s mouth, and the world seemed to drown out for a moment. As if the world around you submerged into the water of the sea, where everything you could hear was jumbled as a strange heat flooded your vision, choking your lungs with the salt of the ocean. 

“Y/N?” The garbled voice was questioning now as your eyes stayed glued to the screen, of the naked set of breasts and invites, even worse- 

the accepting replies. 

That was all it took for you to flinch away from the hand that Kuroo had carefully set on your back hunched over the device, the towel he had been using to dry off his hair falling to the floor in a heap of material as the raven-haired boy finally entered your bedroom from his post-practice shower. 

Still, the phone remained tightened in your hand so tight to the point where your knuckles were turning white. 

“Why are you going through my phone?” The accusatory edge to Kuroo’s voice had risen, and so did you to your feet, the device hitting the floor next to the towel as you fight to keep your head afloat.

“How long?” Your voice cracked, no matter how hard you fought the breaking feeling spreading across your chest as Kuroo seemed to still completely, and you didn’t need to look at him fully in the face to know how utterly guilty he looked. 

“W-What do you-?” 

“Don’t.” Your voice was soft, refusing to meet the captain’s eyes now, not knowing just who was standing in your room. 

Not knowing just who was the man now holding your face in his hands, urging you to look at him with his own flood falling on his cheeks as his words remained garbled. Still, you let him. 

“Baby. Kitten-fuck. I don’t know what you think you saw, but I love you! I wasn’t completely there when I-” 

“Fucked her?” Your voice hadn’t risen, eyes glazed over in a haze as Kuroo’s voice hitched. 

“No. Nononono- Y/N, kitten-” 

“T-Tetsurou?” The name felt foreign on your tongue as your head finally rose to meet his, willing everything inside you to hold it back as Kuroo held you tighter, as if his arms would salvage what was falling apart. 

“Get out.” 

“Y/N. Please.” His voice fell to a whisper- 

and the dam broke. 

“I SAID GET THE HELL OUT.” You screamed, falling to your knees as your arms wrapped around yourself, knowing you were all you had in the world at the moment. You saw his legs approach you, before hesitating and turning the other way, clenched fists creating bloody marks in his hands from his fingernails as he complied. 

“And Tetsurou.” You spat just as his legs stall in the doorway, watching as Kuroo’s feral and playful eyes that once painted every edge of your universe seemed to be fighting to remain stable. The captain heard those words, and couldn’t fight the sobs beginning to wreck his body as the voice he loved echoed in his ears with parting words- 

Your voice didn’t crack this time. 

“Don’t come back.” 

Iwaizumi

“She’s a nobody.” 

You jump at the sound of the voice, humorless chuckle slipping your lips as Iwa steps to your side, dark eyes looking tired and void of any light that might had once lit up his dark irises. You look out at the landscape, still looking straight forward as the ace settles next to you, hanging his forearm across his bent knee. 

“How did you find me?” 

“It’s been two years. I know you, Y/N.” Iwaizumi’s eyes bore into your side profile, and more sarcastic giggles make their way past your lips as you hug your knees to your chest, jabbing him where it hurts. 

“Funny. I really thought I knew you, Hajime-” 

“Don’t you start with that shit.”

You lazily finally meet Iwa’s eyes, causing the ace to feel the lump growing in his throat at the amount of light drained from the look of them, mirroring his own. Iwa moistens his lips, trying to get his head back on track as the heat tinges at the sides of his eyes. 

“We love each other, don’t we?” 

“Yeah. We did.” 

Iwa flinches at the past-tense term, feeling his breathing hollow out at the sound of it. 

“We must’ve at some point, right?” All cried-out, you watch the sun seem to slowly sink into the horizon in a mix of color as your eyes soak in its’ prettiness, as if the light from the sun would somehow bring the gleam back to your eyes-

but every time you closed them, all you saw was Iwaizumi fiercely kissing another girl in the passenger seat of her car, fist clenched in her hair as he kissed her with anger from the fight he had with you-

“You do. You love me.” The denial sunk in as you laugh. And you laugh some more as if that were the most idiotic thing in the world. “And I love you, Y/N- princess, we can make this work and get through this-!” 

“I don’t want to, though.” You cut him off, drawing circles in the dirt as you remember the nights teasing Iwa for showing too little emotion- not knowing that the most you would get out of him would be after he stuck his tongue down another girl’s throat. 

“Don’t you get that?” You shake your head, smiling as if you can’t believe it, shoving Iwa’s attempt of holding you off of you as you raise to your feet, soaking in the colors as they fade to a more dark color palate. 

“I don’t give a fuck about some nobody, don’t you get that?!” Iwa’s on his feet now too, and you finally begin to crack as you look out to the horizon, a familiar heat flooding your vision as you smile. 

“Hey, Hajime.” You ignore his cry, prompting the dark-haired boy to look in the same direction you were. “This is where it all started, didn’t it? Where you kissed me, and promised that you would always protect me, right?” 

Iwa’s own eyes brim with frustration as the stinging heat from earlier takes over, feeling the mix of regret and heartbreak begin to settle in as you turn and give him a smile. No sarcastic intention behind it as you close your eyes, Iwa’s eyes widening at the sight of something he’d never get to see again. 

“I guess you really don’t know me, after all.” You smile to the point where its’ painful, spinning on your heel. “I came because I knew you’d find me, not to fix whatever this is, but-” 

You’re turned around now, the sun fading into night as you will your legs to keep walking. 

“To say goodbye to you, Hajime.” 

And so, the dark-haired ace watched as you walked off into the distance and out of his life for a problem he created, yells of frustration enclosed in his throat and the need to punch something ever-so prevalent- 

as the sky above now swirled with dark pigment. 

Akaashi

“Don’t. Don’t go, please.” 

“Keiji, let go.” You tug your arm in an attempt to make the messy-haired boy release you, trembling when he pulls you into his chest, burying his head in your neck as the hot tears hit your skin, prompting you to bite your lip and fight the urge to hold him back as your own eyes burn. If he wouldn’t let you go, then-

You can’t help the vicious words from slipping. “She’s waiting, you should go to her, shouldn’t you?” 

“Stop. D-Don’t say that-” 

“Am I wrong?” Your voice remains stable to your surprise, causing Akaashi to tighten his hold on you even more. “The girl who came out after you in your shower...who is she?” 

“No one! No one, Y/N, you were so far for so long, and-” 

“And what?” You question emotionlessly. “You have needs? You were lonely? Cut the bullshit.” 

“Do you know what it’s been like?” Akaashi’s voice is soft with an angry edge as he pulls back, still holding you in his arms as if to keep you there for an eternity, and for a minute, time does stop- 

and you soak in the reality. Life tore you two apart, distanced yet together, far away yet still part of the same relationship. The blue-eyed boy would never be able to rewind the clock and keep you as his no matter what life hurled- 

“Let go.” 

“Fuck if I do.” 

Your strong exterior begins to crumble as Akaashi watches with now widened eyes as the viciousness drains only to be replaced with sorrow, relief filling his heart when you hold him back just as tightly, your chin resting on his shoulder as your grateful he won’t be able to see what kind of expression crosses your features. 

“Keiji.” You whisper almost child-like, causing Akaashi’s heart to swell with hope until the next words make his heart stop. 

“Eat healthy, will you? I know Bokuto likes to drag you around to all these places, but too much ramen isn’t good for you-” 

“Y/N?” 

“And please, for god sakes, make sure you remember to pick up your suit from the laundromat on Thursdays, I know you’re presentations are usually on Fridays-” 

“Y/N.” 

“Oh, and don’t forget- you always make it a point to drop by Konoha’s for a guy night on the fourth of every month, so don’t drink too much because it gives you a massive migraine in the middle of the night-” 

“Y/N!” 

“And Keiji?” You pull back, corners of your mouth pulled back as you cup his face gently, leaning your forehead against his as Akaashi Keiji freezes in shock as the love of his life, his future, his world- 

Smiles a wordless goodbye, capturing his lips as Akaashi wonders how to turn the hands of time, forcing the laws of nature to bend for his selfish desires as his arms slacken- 

“Be happy.” You whisper, retracting your arms and hands before stepping out of his now weak grip, brushing past him with a finality in your steps as time refuses to stop, Akaashi fighting every instinct on forcing you to stay with him- 

letting you go as the hands of time continue to move along with your steps away from him, the setter lifting a hand to his mouth before he falls to his knees and looks up to the sky- 

wishing he had more hours, minutes, and seconds to see that smile for just a bit longer. 

“Yeah. You do the same, love.”

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

LMAO GO READ SOME OF MY FLUFF IF THIS MADE YOU SAD I’M SORRY 

General works: @takemetovalhalla @kasandrafaye @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046

[thefanficmonster]

Caught Red-handed

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Struggling with migraines 

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having suffered from migraines all their life, Y/N knows better than to give them much attention or let them hinder their work too much. However, their boyfriend is a lot more worried than they are and has taken it as his personal duty to ease their pain as much as he possibly can. 

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to get to it, write and post it, but here it finally is and I hope you come across it and read it! I’ve never experienced migraines nor have I known someone who has so if I’ve misrepresented or written any misinformation, anyone who catches it, feel free to let me know either in the comments or in my inbox/messages! Love, Vy ❤

The first time I got a headache was in the middle of math class in eighth grade. I remember it so distinctly because I had never before experienced such sudden and such intense pain. I got to go home early that day and spent a good portion of the day trying to sleep it off but to no avail.

Since then I’ve grown used to having to deal with a pain so strong it renders me unable to function for a whole day about two times a month. Sometimes, I even try to be stubborn with it - I try to push through as much work as I can despite the migraine, but that never works out for a long time considering it ends up crippling me in the end. That’s never kept me from trying over and over again though!

Now, to contrast my nonchalance and even annoyance with these pesky attacks, is my boyfriend Corpse’s concern over them. I’ve tried explaining to him that I’ve grown used to them and that I try not to let them bother me and that he shouldn’t stress over them so much but I may as well be talking to a wall because all he has to do is see me squint my eyes or cringe and he enters concerned-mother mode. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it to no end, I just don’t want him worrying over something so small. Also, a minor convenience: if the migraine doesn’t hinder me from tending to my tasks, Corpse will. He’ll make sure I’m off the task I’m working and transported into bed in an instant.

That’s why I’m now clenching my jaw, struggling to maintain a poker face as I work on an important project I have to send to my boss by the start of next week. I’ve got plenty of time, but I like to stay on top of my work so it doesn’t pile on top of me, you know what I’m saying. Corpse is sitting on the couch next to me, casually glancing at me every now and then while remaining quiet as to not disturb me. So far so good, he hasn’t noticed anything and, if I didn’t know any better I would sigh in relief. There’s nothing to trigger the pain to arise any further - the lights are dim, I’m staying hydrated, and I downed two painkillers in the bathroom about an hour and a half ago - so I’m sure I’ll be in the clear at least until dinner.

“Wanna watch a movie when you’re done?“ Corpse asks, “Unless you’re tired or anything...“

I flash him a grateful smile, giving his knee a squeeze of reassurance, “I’d love to, babe. But I can’t promise that I won’t fall asleep.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I know you’ve got a tendency of doing that.” Giving me a side-glance he adds, “It’s cute.”

I roll my eyes, already sensing a blush creeping up on my cheeks and neck which I hide by turning to face my laptop screen. One thing I can’t hide though is the wide grin that’s spread across my face as I mutter: “Shut up.”

Just then, a particularly sharp jolt of pain courses through my head, testing that ability to maintain a resting face. Thankfully, Corpse is turned in the opposite direction, searching for his phone, so I allow myself a brief cringe at the discomfort. 

Guess the painkillers are dying down on me, I think to myself, a second away from sighing exasperatedly at the thought that I have to down two more. It was wishful of me to think I could enjoy the luxury of a dull ache until dinner, now the migraine is straight up mocking me.

I quietly stand up from the couch and make my way to the bathroom so I can take another dose of aspirin because I don’t think I’ll be able to focus on my work for very long if it keeps hitting me with this intensity. Opening the door to the small cabinet above the sink, I automatically reach out for the bottle of pills but stop when I see a surprise.

Directly in front of the bottle stands a note written in, you guessed it, Corpse’s handwriting.

‘Already losing effect, huh? When are you thinking of coming clean?‘

Well shoot, am I that transparent?

I sheepishly exit the bathroom, walking back into the living room where Corpse greets me with the same stance as a parent greeting their kid who’s gotten home past curfew: legs crossed, arms folded over his chest, one eyebrow raised, the whole nine yards.

“Yeah, they’re already losing effect.“ I admit, a small apologetic smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks burning with an embarrassed blush. “And I wasn’t gonna tell you at all.” I hurry to add: “Please don’t be mad though.“

Corpse shifts slightly, his gaze giving me a onceover as he contemplates how to pursue the case. I’ve already got several arguments/defenses ready - the perks of working for a lawyer - but I know he’ll dismiss all of them no matter how strong they might come off as in court. Bottom line: even statements that would fly in court can’t fly with Corpse sometimes. Especially when my health and well-being are the topic of observation.

“What have we said about lying?“ He finally asks, causing me to cringe and ball my fists in guilt.

However, I still have my arguments ready: “You never asked me so I never technically lied.” One might say I have quite the audacity to plead not guilty right now, even though I’ve been caught red-handed, but what can I say, I’m stubborn in nature. And Corpse knows this, he’s just testing me for his own amusement.

“Poor excuse, Y/N.“ He says with disapproval, shaking his head and fully embracing his disappointed parent persona. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. So, as punishment for hiding the truth from me, you are to ditch that project you’ve been bugging yourself over and come cuddle and watch a movie with me. Bonus points for you if you fall asleep.“

I needn’t be told twice - not only will it wipe that look off his features but it’ll also get earn me a movie night with the additional benefit of cuddling with my boyfriend? - how could I refuse?

I can’t help it, I just gotta push my luck here and poke the bear with a stick, “If the punishments are so sweet I might start being dishonest more often.“

Corpse rolls his eyes, scooting on the couch and tapping the space he’s freed up for me, “I said I was feeling generous, don’t bet on it happening often though.”

Alright, enough luck-pushing, I should be grateful for this generosity instead. I should be using it to the max.

So, what’s stopping you from doing just that?

Good question, brain, good question.

Head still pounding just not as intensely, I slip under the thin soft comforter to find myself not only wrapped in it but also in Corpse’s arm, his warm embrace bringing me instant comfort, walking me on the tight-rope of falling asleep right away.

“Sneaky bastard.“ I attempt to mutter, yawning halfway through. 

I feel his lips on the top of my head, placing a quick and gentle kiss in my hair before he says, “You’re welcome, babe.”

Count your lucky stars, Y/N. You’ve got one of the good ones.

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[kashi-prompts]

Prompt: Above (but slightly altered)

Pairing: Kakashi x Reader (POV alternates between them) 

Wordcount: 4,963

Rating: M 

Trigger Warning: Graphic depictions of domestic violence, implied/suggested rape, and violence

A/N: Ok, so I got carried away with this one. This prompt has been in my head for a long time, and I didn’t know where I wanted to go with it. But if you’re a little emo millennial like I am, you’ll remember the song “Face Down” by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus that came out in like, 2010 or something. I listened to this song over and over again one day while I was driving and this idea came to my head. Please abide by the trigger warnings, as I feel this is pretty triggering. But I do hope those of you who enjoy the whole angsty vibe enjoy this. 

And [y/f’s/n] = Your friends name

Prompt below the cut: 

"Over here," the grip of his hand on your upper arm alerted you that you were moving through the crowd too quickly. He directed you back down the path he wanted to go. Hundreds of people lined the main street of Konoha in the culmination of the day's festival. You looked up, adjusting your kimono as you noted some teens arranging fireworks to be set off on the roof across from you. 

"This is a festival to celebrate love and relationships," you reminded your husband, frowning as he continued away from the festival's main road. You pushed a piece of hair away from your face, the hot air causing it to stick to your forehead with sweat. 

"What does it matter? We're already married, aren't we?" Aiko sighed, his irises pointing north in irritation. You noticed and agreed not to speak of it again. 

"Hey, Jiro!" Aiko's demeanor changed instantly at the sight of his friends huddled around a table, sake being poured generously all around. Slapping his hand between the man's shoulder blades, you watched your husband smile for the first time that day. 

Within moments, the lanterns in the streets were lit, and a glass of the fermented alcohol shoved haphazardly in your hand. The three men leaned against the table as you watched more people walk by, snippets of conversations passing you. You smiled dolefully as a young couple crossed the path before you, their enamored expressions radiating off their faces. 

You wearily twisted your wedding band with your thumb. 

Across the street, three men leisurely pitched themselves against the plank siding of Konoha's Dango shop. Despite the men lacking the commonly ordered shinobi uniform, one could still discern the nature of the three ninjas simply the way they displayed themselves. Although they were not on duty at the moment, their demeanor barely skimmed the surface of leisure. 

"Oiy," one burly gentleman sighed, exasperated by his friend's lack of interest, "Kakashi, won't you put that book down? Just enjoy the evening." 

The taller man shrugged, the tilt of his grey hair below the paper lantern above casting a shadow over his already partially covered face. He turned another page calmly, not looking up. 

"I'm here, aren't I? Isn't that enough for you both?" Kakashi responded, his thumb resting between the pages of his novel. A single dark eye glanced up at the two men. 

"Just listen to Guy," the brown-haired man exhaled, gesturing to the enthusiastic friend between them. "It would be nice to have you present once in and while. Maybe you can find a girlfriend here instead of always relying on that stupid book of yours for pleasure." 

Kakashi sighed heavily, scoffing at his friend and snapping the book shut in his palm, replacing it in the pocket of his kimono. Above them, the sudden popping sounds of fireworks shooting into the night sky filled the air. 

"I love the energy here," the man named Guy proclaimed suddenly, turning to look at the teenagers on the roof above them set up another round of colorful bursting rockets. The man clenched his fists in enthusiasm, smiling broadly. 

"I remember being that young," he said suddenly, "the rich life of youth!" 

Kakashi folded his arms across his chest and slumped deeper against the building. He had waited for this festival to end hours ago, imagining the familiarity of his warm bed at home and the burning desire for his mind to rest in the comfort of the book in his pocket. 

As the stream of citizens bustling down the dirt street finally divided, the silver-haired shinobi's eye settled on a woman across the street. Despite the clarity of her disquieted gaze, her appearance caught the shinobi's attention as his eye swiveled back to her. 

For a moment, something within his mind was set ablaze. The silver-haired man tilted his chin, studying the woman as she nursed a small glass of the clear liquid in her hand. Her slender fingers tapped against the drink while her thumb nervously twisted at the silver band on her ring finger. 

Behind his mask, he frowned slightly. She was taken, obviously. How could she not be? There was a grace to her that would be swept up by any man lucky enough to get close to her. Despite the obvious conclusion that he had made about her status, his eyes couldn't seem to leave her. The uneasy expression on her delicate features tugged at something within him. 

"I'm going to go get us a drink," Tenzo clapped a hand to his thigh, leaning forward from the wall. "Sound good?"

Kakashi nodded, looking away from the woman as another pack of eager teenagers wandered between her and the men. Instead, he watched Yamato push his way to the bar across the street where she stood, offering three fingers to the bartender in request. 

As Yamato waited, Kakashi observed the man at the table in front of the bar. A boisterous laugh echoed from the man's husky chest, slamming down an empty glass that once held a generous amount of sake. 

"If I really wanted to, I could take on any of these shinobi," Kakashi heard the man say to his friend. "I don't need to know any of that ju-ju shit." 

Beside him, Guy was oblivious to the entertainment unfolding before them. Kakashi managed to stifle a chuckle, looking away as the man began to roll up his sleeve to show off his beefy arm muscles. His single eye swiveled back to the woman, clearly embarrassed by the man's humiliating masquerade of virility beside her. 

The connection was suddenly made clear to Kakashi. 

"Hey, you!" the man yelled over the table, pointing to Yamato as he used an extra wooden hand to carry the three glasses back to his friends. 

"You're a shinobi, aren't you?" 

"Yes," Kakashi heard Yamato say, clearly unaware of the man's prior antics moments before, "Why?" 

"C'mere for a second," the man chuckled, waving the shinobi over. The burly man's friends snickered around the table, turning around to observe Kakashi's friend. Kakashi stood straighter. Beside him, Guy did the same, also suddenly aware of the strange situation displaying before them. 

A fist flew through the air without warning, and the sound of shattering glass filled the bar. Three glasses of sake spilled around their feet as Yamato's hand gripped the man's fist in front of his face agilely. 

"Aiko, stop!" The woman Kakashi had noted minutes before cursed at her husband, her eyes wild with embarrassment and anger. "What is wrong with you?" 

Yamato pushed back with one hand as Kakashi and Guy carefully made their way across the street to assist if needed. The man stumbled back, shaking his head in disgust. 

"You men are useless," he spat at Yamato. Kakashi and Guy stood at Yamato's shoulder. "All you stupid fucks do is go out and use your little magic to bring war to our village. Just because people aren't inherently born with your stupid-"

"That's enough," Kakashi commanded suddenly, taking a step forward. His other lid slid open, the twirl of three tomoe in his glowing eye a jarring sight to the group of men. Aiko scoffed, brushing off the scarecrow's display of authority before sitting back down. 

Kakashi turned, impervious to the man's words. As Guy opened his mouth beside him, Yamato quickly directed him away. 

Making his way back through the crowd, Kakashi glanced over at the woman beside him, her expression a blend of humiliation and gratitude. 

Clutching your drink, you stared at the silver-haired shinobi in front of you as he passed. The glow of his red eye eerie as he slowly closed his lid again. Did he know? 

****** 

2 Months Later

The humidity in the air was stifling. The typical steady flow of children darting about in the streets seemed to have been reduced to merely a trickle of one or two Genin desperately trying to cool themselves with the gardening hose outside the Yamanaka Flower Shop. 

The wait between missions was always a relatively appeasing time for the jounin leader. Although today, as he patrolled the streets with a book in his hand, he longed for a mission to a place with a cooler temperature than the sweltering climate he walked the streets in now. Drips of sweat cascaded down his spine, dampening his undershirt all the way to his vest. 

"Oh!" was all Kakashi heard as he felt the weight of someone walk into him. The pages of his book flew through the air, minging with a bag of groceries that fell to the ground.  

"I'm sorry!" he heard as he quickly assessed the situation. A messy lump of [y/h/c] knelt before him, picking up the groceries that had been scattered about the street. 

"No need to be sorry," he told the woman quickly, kneeling beside her. 

"I should have been looking where I was going," clearly flustered by the situation, she continued to grab her groceries and place them back in the bag. 

"It's okay," he chuckled, glancing up at her. His chest tightened for a moment as he viewed the woman he had seen in the bar a few months prior. Her beauty remained, but the apparent cast of malaise had overtaken her. He blinked, taken aback by the situation that had suddenly unfolded before him. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, lifting an arm to her shoulder, "did you hurt yourself?"

She evaded his touch, pulling away with her bag of groceries. He withdrew his gesture as she stood, clutching the bag to her chest. Looking down, he observed the wedding band still on her thinning finger. She looked ill, he thought. Or, at the very least, quite exhausted. Beneath his mask, his lips curved into a frown. 

"I'm fine. I must be going," she told him quickly, brushing by him. It was now evident to the jounin how this large bag of groceries had obscured this woman's view enough to run into him in the first place. 

"Let me at least help you carry your bag," Kakashi offered, taking a step towards her. 

"No!" she told him quickly, pulling the paper bag away from his grasp. "I'm fine, thank you." 

As she turned the arm grasping the bag away from him, his single eye glanced down at a deep-set bruise on her upper arm. The clear markings of four fingers having once gripped the skin caused his stomach to churn uncomfortably. He opened his mouth, attempting to frame a sentence of carefully composed words to her, but only a pause came from his lips. 

Without another word, the woman turned from him and quickly began heading over the bridge to the other side of town. Her gait struck him as rather peculiar, almost as though she were trying to make up the time she had lost moments before. Looking down, he grabbed his book from the dusty street and shoved it in his pocket, uneasy from the interaction. 

**** 

3 Months Later

Fall had arrived before you had even noticed the conclusion of the warmer days of the year. The lustrous canopies of trees that cocooned the village had shifted to autumn's mute yet vibrate colors. The crisp air of the night nipped at your cheeks as you walked at the ankles of your husband, keen to keep a distance yet knowledgeable enough not to fall behind. 

Another festival had arrived, this one focused on family. The two of you were supposed to be a family, having been married over two years ago. Yet you didn't feel like that was the case. It was almost as though the moment you had said "I do" to Aiko, he had changed. He had wanted a maid, a mother, and a ragdoll in one package. 

As the evening had progressed, you were sure he had learned his lesson from the previous spring festival. But once the arrival of his friends had commenced, you knew it would be similar. The gnawing, raw feeling in your stomach caused acid to flow freely into your mouth. 

You remembered the last festival, the one where he had made a fool of himself in front of those shinobi men. He had scolded and ridiculed you for not supporting him at that moment. It was considerably evident that your husband was no match for a trained ninja of the Leaf. Yet, his disgust for the protectors of the village only grew more. You suspected it was rooted in jealousy. 

Not realizing the extent of his burned complex that night, you had continued to go about the evening, unaware of what was to come. Once you had arrived home, it had been the first time the verbal abuse had turned physical. The memory of his grip flush against the curve of your neck, pinning you to the wall as he spat in your face, was as clear as it had been the night it happened. You could still hear his words, appalled that his wife had not supported him- maybe then he would have won. You could still feel the glass that had shattered and plunged into your skin as he threw you into the coffee table. 

You took in a shaky breath, trying to calm your anxiety that rose within you. You prayed it wouldn't be that kind of night. You prayed it wouldn't be the type of evening where you were both his physical punching bag and his sex ragdoll. The apologies he whispered to you after as he held you down to "make love" to you caused your skin to crawl. 

The abuse was blatant; there was no denying it. You couldn't say to yourself, "he loves me," because he did not. Yet, you couldn't find the strength or the dignity to leave. The more his words stung, the more you felt you deserved them. 

As you traveled through the street, you looked around, watching families partake in the street vendor sweets and games provided to them. Your hand went to your stomach, the emptiness within it a sad reminder that you were still not a mother. 

"What are you doing?" Aiko asked abruptly, his voice dripping with contempt and impatience. You turned your head, hurrying back over to him as you hadn't even realized you stopped walking. 

"Sorry," you mumbled. 

Later in the evening, the wind had picked up, and the festival lanterns waved in the breeze. Once again, the sake was flowing freely. It was setting up to be just as it had been that night in the spring. Your skin itched with anxiety. The wedding band on your finger was looser than before, falling to your knuckle as you sipped your drink nervously. 

"I bet you could take him out," you heard Aiko's friend say to him. Your eyes widened, and you looked to the sky, a silent prayer for peace falling from your lips. The obsession with shinobi had only grown worse since the incident. As unbenounced ninja passed them on the street, spit would fly from your husband's mouth to their sandaled feet. Mortified, you would always look away. 

But tonight, as you looked over at your husband in the bar, you realized the three men from that evening were behind him. The realization of what your husband and his friends were discussing hit you, and you quickly sucked down your alcohol to ease your distress. 

That shinobi that had helped you in the street that one day was there as well—the same one with the dancing red eye that had looked at you at the spring festival. 

Was he looking at you? You wondered, catching the gaze of his dark eye from across the room. You looked down at your empty drink, feeling a blush creep up your neck that didn't seem like it was from the sake. 

He was handsome, you thought to yourself. You remembered the day you had bumped into him in the street, the way he had chucked at the way you apologized so profusely. When he had walked by you with that eye that night in the spring, it had felt like a real shock of electricity ran through your body. 

A clamor of chairs brought you out of your daydream as you quickly looked up, startled by the sudden noise. 

"Aiko!" you yelled, seeing your husband up against a wall with the forearm under his neck that belonged to the same shinobi he had tried to fight in the spring. This couldn't be happening, you thought. 

The shinobi with a terribly styled bowl cut pulled your husband off of the young man, restraining him. 

"What is your problem?" the brown-haired man shouted to Aiko, pushing him as the other held him in a headlock. 

"Guy, Tenzo!" the silver-haired man stood between them, pulling the men apart. 

A glob of spit flew through the air, hitting the man named Tenzo in the cheek. He gritted his teeth, angered as your husband looked at him in satisfaction. 

"Fuck you," Aiko said, "and fuck your stupid job." 

"Tenzo!" Kakashi forcefully shoved his comrade back as he lunged towards the man. "Enough! Guy, let's go!" 

Embarrassment flooded you like no other. The overwhelming realization of what had just unfolded before you caused acid to erupt in your stomach. You put your glass down, running out of the bar and into the street. You didn't care if your husband couldn't find you - you didn't care about it at all. You were mortified, mortified to be around him, associated with him, to be married to him. 

You pushed through the crowd, finding a dark alleyway at the end of the street where you could find solitude and rest for a moment. Tears streamed from your face as you slid your back down the side of a building. You held your face in your hands, unable to control the sob that erupted from your chest. You stayed there, clutching your knees to your chest as time ticked by. 

You were angry with yourself. You were disgusted for having been stupid enough to get yourself in a situation with such a dreadful and disorderly man. This was your fault, you thought. Your responsibility for not seeing the signs, for not realizing who he was - 

"Get up," you heard, interrupting your thoughts. Your body froze, unable to register the gravity of what was about to happen. You looked up, seeing the outline of your husband against the backlight of the street behind him. 

"Please, Aiko, I'm just-" 

"Get up!" 

You stood to your feet, your knees shaking uncontrollably beneath you. There was nothing you could do now. You had to deal with whatever was going to be delt to you. The rational side of your brain knew it wasn't your fault he had made a fool of himself, yet his tainted reputation and burned-out dignity only enraged him more- and somehow, you felt responsible. You were his punching bag - his relief. 

"Why did you leave?" he demanded, taking a step forward. 

"I was feeling ill," you told him, standing your ground as you lifted your chin. 

"You think you can leave?" he asked, his hot breath on your face. The stale smell of alcohol on his breath tickled your nose, causing nausea to churn in your stomach more. 

"You think you're better than me? Do you think this is all a game? That these men are better than me?"

"I never-" the sudden grip of his hand on your jaw caught your tongue between your teeth, the taste of metal in your mouth quickly spreading. 

"You disgust me," he seethed, the sweaty skin of his nose touching yours. Without hesitation, he threw your body to the side of the alley, slamming your head between the trashcans. 

"Go ahead, get up," he urged you mockingly as his foot slammed into your stomach. 

"Get up!" he yelled, watching you curl your body in pain on the concrete.

Aiko curled his hand into a fist, raising it above him as he leaned down. You braced your body for impact, knowing full well what was about to happen. Anger at yourself overwhelmed you. 

The sound of trashcans being pushed to the side abruptly filled the air of the small alleyway. You felt one hit the top of your head, and you moved quickly, sitting up with wide eyes. Your husband's arm was twisted behind him, and his face pushed into the brick building behind you. Blood seeped from a cut on his forehead. 

"You can't hit a real man, so you think you can hit a woman? You feel like a man now? Huh?" 

The comprehension of what was happening hit you as you scrambled back from the scene. The silver-haired ninja with the red eye slammed your husband harder against the wall, using the firm grip on Aiko's wrist to move him as though he weighed nothing. 

"Get off of me!" Aiko cried furiously, forcefully trying to free himself from the man's grip. You looked down, seeing the shinobi's forearm flex as he gripped your husband's wrist tighter. 

"Break your arm," the shinobi urged mockingly, "that's the only way you'll get out of this." 

Your husband thrust himself backward, wildly trying to free himself. Your eyes widened as you watched in one swift motion the shinobi pull Aiko to the ground, a fist landing firmly on his jawline. You closed your eyes, hearing the sounds of knuckles to flesh penetrate your mind. A mixture of anxiety and relief overwhelmed your senses. 

When the noises had settled, you looked up, watching the shinobi's chest heave in and out as he caught his breath—blood coating his knuckles. Your hand went to your mouth, shaking. He turned to look at you, his red eye open and glowing in the darkness. You scrambled to your feet. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said quickly, his expression turning from blind rage to concern. "Are you okay? You're bleeding." 

You reached up, touching the trickle of blood that streamed down from your hairline as the adrenaline from the situation began to die in your system. You felt dizzy, whether from the situation or the injury, you weren't sure. But when you looked back up, the man's spinning red eye was closed again, and he stared at you with worry. 

You looked to your beaten husband, his face puffy and red as he slumped against the wall, unconscious. 

"Is-Is-" you tried, words failing you as your body shook uncontrollably. 

"He's not dead," the shinobi told you quickly, "just unconscious. I just - I saw what he did to you and - he's the lowest scum on this earth."

His words fell silent as his chest still rose and fell with heavy breaths. You looked up at him, your eyes locking with his. The adrenaline and anxiety that had been building up in you peaked as your knees gave way below you. Your body fell to the ground as you let out a loud sob, one that had been accumulating within you for months. The overwhelming, unrelenting sense of fear that consumed you day in and day out had diminished, if only for a moment, right now. 

"Hey," he called quickly, kneeling before you. His voice was calm. You felt his hand on your shoulder, gentle and assuring as you cried. "Hey, it's okay." 

"This is my life," you felt the words tumble from your mouth, "this is how I live, day in and day out. These bruises are normal; this fear is normal." 

His silver eyebrows turned up in grief as waves of emotions overtook your body. After a moment, you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest. This stranger, having saved you and comforted you in a dark alley in the middle of a festival. This stranger, who knew nothing of you, yet held you close to his beating chest as you clutched his kimono. You felt his hand on the back of your head, his skin sticky with your husband's blood. 

"It's okay," you heard him say to you, his chin atop of your head, "It's okay. I'm not going to let him hurt you again. I promise." 

***** 

Spring had come again. The blossoming sakura leaves a staple as the annual festival celebrating love commenced in the streets once again. You walked by yourself through the crowd, the newfound strange sense of independence feeling like a breath of fresh air to your lungs. You looked around, observing the same throng of teenagers pass by, another year older. 

You stopped, letting the dog at your side sniff a street pole. You smiled, leaning down to pet your brute of a hound. He looked up at you, wagging his tail at the affection you provided. 

"Good boy, Megumi," you smiled, flipping his ears warmly. Megumi had been given to you by that ninja named Kakashi after you had returned from the hospital for the severe concussion you had received that night. You were unsure where he had gotten the pup from, but the dogs small, doting eyes staring back at you won you over instantly. 

"He'll serve as a good sense of protection," Kakashi had told you, "and if you need any help training him, I'd be happy to help." 

That had been the last time you had seen the man who had saved you. Although often, you were sure you had seen him pass by you in the streets, only to realize it was someone else. You wondered how he was doing. 

Your husband had been promptly thrown into prison, collected on domestic abuse charges that were not tolerated within the village whatsoever. You slipped your bare ring finger through one of the loops of Megumi's chain. The divorce had been finalized last month. 

"[y/n]," someone had called. You turned, seeing your friend, [y/f's/n] wave happily to you. You smiled as she handed you a cup of warmly brewed tea. 

"How are you?" She asked brightly, "it's so nice to see you out. And how is little Megumi?" 

She bent down to pet the dog's ample head—another tail wag. 

"I'm good," you smiled. Your smile was genuine, your heart light. "Thank you. How are you?"

"Happy to see my friend!" the woman smiled, hugging your shoulders from the side. You beamed, laughing with your friend for what felt like the first time in years. Just as you turned your head, tittering off a laugh, your eye caught sight of a turf of silver hair in the sunlight. Your heart jumped in your chest, and you blinked.

"What is it?" your friend asked, her face falling. 

"Nothing, it's just -" you tried but couldn't form the words. It had been seven months since you had seen Kakashi. The angle of the lantern's light catching his sharp features as he conversed with his two friends. Beside you, your friend traced your gaze to the man a few meters away. 

"Is that-?" she trailed off, watching your face flush as your fingers tapped nervously against the cup of tea in your hand. 

"You're blushing!" she pointed out, a playful finger pointed at your nose. 

"I'm not," you waved a hand, "I'm just surprised to see him." 

"Why don't you go talk to him?"

"Oh no, I couldn't," you shook your head, fidgeting with Megumi's leash. 

"But he saved you! You should at least see how he's doing." 

"He was just doing his job, [y/f's/n]," you sighed, rolling your eyes at your friend. 

"No, it doesn't matter. You should go talk to him," she urged, pushing you towards him. 

"[Y/f's/n]!" she pushed you through the crowd, children dispersing as your dog sniffed his way over to Kakashi's leg. 

"Hey!" Kakashi chucked to the dog, a smile forming under his mask. His eyes traveled up the dog's chain to you as your friend's hands left your shoulders, disappearing into the crowd. 

"[y/n]," Kakashi smiled in surprise, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he looked at you. "I didn't-"

"How are you?" you asked suddenly, feeling your face flush. Kakashi blinked his single eye, tracing your face with his gaze as if to memorize it. You were sure you looked healthier than the last time he had seen you. 

"I'm good," he said finally, not realizing his friends disappearing behind him with snickering looks over their shoulder. "How are you?"

"Better," you smiled softly, holding Megumi's leash tightly as the dog sniffed at his feet. Kakashi leaned down to pet the dog, smiling as he patted the side of his chest. 

"And I see Megumi is doing good too," he cooed at the hound. 

"He is," you nodded, "thank you again." 

"Not a problem," he leaned back up, catching your eye again. You looked away, your chest flushing. A few awkward beats passed between you as you watched a couple pass by, their hands intertwined as they strolled down the street.

"Would you- like to grab something to eat?" You heard him ask, his voice dripping with nervousness. 

You turned back suddenly, your eyes snapping back to his. He smiled softly, lifting his eyebrows. 

"They have some good food stands here this time of year," he commented, "but if you'd rather not or if you're with your frien-"

"Of course," you said quickly, "I would love to." 

His eyes perked up at your acceptance, turning into two small crescent moons. He turned, waiting for you to follow. Your instinct told you to stay a foot behind him, but when he waited for you to step beside you, you realized he wanted you next to him. 

"So, are you wishing for anything?" he trailed off as the two of you began walking, a smile on your face. 

[dynyamight]

For the interaction + action ask: “ You have the most beautiful eyes, I’ve ever seen. “ + attempts to pickpocket, but gropes instead

send me an interaction ask bonus + action

“You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen." + attempts to pickpocket, but gropes instead

From the moment he landed on the feeble looking man, making his way down the cobblestone pathway, Bakugou knew that was his next target.

Dressed in an oversized robe, with only his soft, round face showing, the merchant strolled the empty street with a satchel, visibly filled with who knows what. But, Bakugou had a gut feeling that it had to be valuables and riches.

The green haired fool had his hands protectively around its shoulder strap; of course there had to be something worth selling.

Swiftly, Bakugou hightailed, right behind the merchant, making sure to keep a relatively natural distance between them. Fortunately for him, the night sky allowed his presence to be hidden better, with only the dim street lamps barely making light.

When the merchant makes a turn, around the corner of the next street, Bakugou allows himself a few seconds to slow down. Give his target some time to look back, and notice nothing.

After his small breather, Bakugou then makes the turn.

“Hi!” The merchant greets in his face.

Taken aback, Bakugou’s left stumbling backwards, barely catching himself in the process. “What the- Holy shit.”

“I deeply apologize, I didn’t mean to scare you so suddenly.” The merchant smiles feebly, his expression painted with worry. “I just noticed we were headed the same way, and I was wondering if you too are wanting to meet with Wizard Yagi?”

Wizard who?

Now, usually, Bakugou would have dropped the mission, head over and found a different person. There’s no point in trying to steal from someone who already knows your face, and has caught you in the act. It ruins the fun in thievery, and Bakugou simply just doesn’t enjoy lying, due to having to talk to the other person.

He prefers to do the least amount of talking possible.

However, today was a complete bust. Bakugou hasn’t been as lucky as he usually is, stealing empty bags, and pickpocketing fool’s gold and counterfeit goods. It’s just been the fucking worst, to say the least.

So, yeah, he’s desperate as fuck. And, this guy looks like he could barely hurt an ant, without bursting into fat welts.

“Sure am.” Bakugou lies, offering an open hand. “You must be Wizard Yagi’s apprentice?”

Green eyes light up, and quickly their hands are met into a firm handshake. “Why yes! How did you know?”

Lucky guess. “The whole town’s been hearing about you. Someone who had extremely, wondrous potential. A fucking prodigy, genius even.”

There’s a slight blush that forms over the merchant’s face. “O-Oh, I wouldn’t say that. The rumors are always so exaggerated these days.”

“Pfft, c’mon. You’re fucking well known.” Bakugou states easily, “I bet you’re the best at magic.”

“Um, I don’t actually use magic.” The merchant weakly admits.

“You don’t?” Shit.

“D-Don’t worry!” He reassures quickly, hands waving dismissively in the air, “It’s a common mistake the folks say.”

“Oh, that’s a fucking relief.” Bakugou genuinely breathes out.

“All is forgiven.” The merchant chuckles, finally gesturing to his satchel at his side. “You see, I gather bunches of resources from the forest, as well as pick up spices and herbals from different shops, and create healing potions. If I could use magic, I think it would have been Light magic.”

“You can’t possibly collect so much, without a couple of coins in your bag.” Bakugou suggests.

“A-Ah, well,” The merchant scratches the side of his cheek, donned with freckles, “I do have riches, in order to trade and purchase.”

It has Bakugou smiling bright. “No kidding.”

“Um, anyways,” The merchant instantly shifts the conversation, “Why don’t we walk together over to my master’s lodging? It can get a little dangerous around here.”

“My, how kind of you. You’d do that for someone like me?” Bakugou teases outright.

The merchant nods confidently. “Yeah, I can protect you, of course.”

What a fucking liar. “Lead the way, then.”

With his huge robe in the way, Bakugou has come to the terrible conclusion that while they walk, he can’t seem to grab the satchel. Hidden by the long cloth, it will continuously appear and disappear, with each step the young man took. It irritated Bakugou, to no end.

“I never got your name.” The merchant chimes from in front.

“It’s Bakugou.” He huffs, still eying at his side.

“My name is Midoriya!” The merchant chuckles airly, shaking his head. “Sorry, you probably knew that already. It’s a force of habit.”

Thank god, he would have never guessed. “Don’t sweat it. I do that shit all the time.”

Immediately, Midoriya halts in his steps. And, before Bakugou could ask, he turns to face him, a wide, joyous smile printed on his face. “Really? You do that, too?”

The satchel has now flung behind Midoriya, no longer at his side. For fuck’s sake.

Nothing comes easy to Bakugou. Hard life comes with hard, strifling times.

“Y-Yeah,” He barely grits out through his teeth, pressing down on the urge to tackle Midoriya, right here and now. “Forgetful ass motherfucker. That’s me.”

“While your language is a bit crass, I completely understand how you feel!” Midoriya states, eyes shining in delight. “It’s like I’ll go to the theater, and the ticket master will say ‘Enjoy the show!’, and I say ‘Thank you, you too!’ It’s absolutely dreadful, right?”

Bakugou has never said that stupid shit, in his entire life. Who even does that?

Apparently, this idiot.

“Absolutely dreadful.” He forces himself to agree.

“My, we have so much in common!” Midoriya laughs, bringing his hands together in a fold. “Perhaps we were bound to meet; you and I. Out here, on this fateful night!”

Sounds terribly romantic. Which then, just like a lightbulb, perfectly brings a brilliant idea in Bakugou’s mind. A way to make Midoriya stand still, and reach around his back for that damn bag.

“Say,” Bakugou begins, taking a step closer, inching his face near, “Did anyone ever tell you are a lovely sight to witness?”

Midoriya’s eyes widened, lips agape in shock. “I-I am?” He weakly breathes out.

“The damn sunset would grow jealous of your rare beauty. Trust me.” Bakugou brings his right hand up Midoriya’s face, gently cupping his cheek. “Believe me.”

He can feel the warmth hit his palm, before he sees the red hue flush across Midoriya’s face. “U-Um, thank you, Bakugou. That’s rather kind of you to say.”

“You know, if we had met under different circumstances,” Bakugou whispers, making sure to add a hint of sultry and sweet into his rough voice, “I know exactly what I would have said, to grab your attention.”

With his lingering left hand, Bakugou reaches around Midoriya’s side. He hovers just slightly over his waist, towards his backside.

At this point, now he was waiting for the right moment.

Despite his calculated movements, Midoriya still had no idea. “Wh-What would you have said, if you don’t mind me asking?” He mumbles quietly.

“I’d say,” Bakugou smirks, ‘Excuse me, sir. You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.”

And, with those emerald, pretty eyes staring back at him in awe, Bakugou finally grabs at the satchel with a tight grip.

There was no buckle. No riches he felt. No crunch from herbs or spices. There was literally nothing he felt in his hand.

Except a piece of firm ass.

And the hard fist that slammed into Bakugou’s face left him unconscious, out on the street.

[sockablock]

(TW for panic attacks and discussions about trauma)

— — —

The thing is, Beau's friends are shit fighters.

To be clear—she's not saying that they're bad at fighting, gods know Veth's a force of nature with her crossbow and all of the spell-slingers can kill with a word—it's just that when it comes to fighting, actual fighting, that down-and-dirty fist-on-flesh shit, her friends suck. Most of 'em just run, or they’d sweet-talk a surrender, or go back to slinging spells.

Beau would never admit she misses the Soul, but at least those people knew how to block. At least Dairon would make her work for it, wouldn't tell her to please, gods, Beau, stop punching me, I give!

Fjord's better these days, but not good enough.

Which is why, on their third morning back in Nicodranas, when Beau opens the door to see Yasha looking restless, she knows exactly what's up.

"Should I get my staff?"

Yasha shrugs. She usually does.

"I'll grab it. Down in five."

Beau considers grabbing some toast too, but she remembers how antsy Yasha seemed and figures she should try to avoid puking in Marion’s yard.

Yasha is stretching when she gets there. The gate swings behind her with a gentle clunk, and she kicks her shoes off, curls her toes in the grass. The sun is barely broken above rooftops and towers, and the first chime of church bells ring out overhead.

Beau yawns a little, but it’s just for flavor. Mind games. She’s not actually sleepy.

“We do not have to—” 

She quickly waves her hand. “It’ll wake me up. You know, get the blood pumping.”

Yasha smiles a little at that. It’s always such a small one, but it’s getting to be familiar.

“I got up early. I couldn’t sleep. Er...sorry.”

Beau doubles her effort to be dismissive. “Don’t apologize to me, Yasha. C’mon. You think I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to?”

This seems to be a winning argument. Yasha nods, like she can’t imagine Beau doing anything she doesn’t want.

Maybe it’s the crisp ocean breeze, maybe it’s the way they circle each other in the yard. Maybe it’s the fresh brush of gauze on her fists.

Beau wants to win.

She dives in, pulls low, uses her quick movement to catch Yasha off-guard and get in as closely as she can. Yasha’s tall, broad, strong as an ox, and even holding back, she could wind Beau with a punch. She presses even closer, limiting Yasha’s motions, sweeps out a leg and cuts up when Yasha moves. The two of them duck and weave and push, neither allowing the other an inch, fists flying, blows being blocked and sweat beginning to pour down their backs. Beau lands a hit that leaves Yasha grunting, then stumbles when a wild haymaker knocks her back. It’s clear that Yasha was never taught any form, just scraped it all together by surviving on the moors and her chaotic movement, high endurance, and reckless confidence just make her deadlier.

Beau tries to close in again, but a lucky kick forces her a pace too far. Her knuckles are bruising in that numb, seething way, and so she darts to the side, grabs her staff, vaults up and then arcs her foot to Yasha’s face—

The dance starts again, this time hardwood hitting forearms and on anyone else, Beau might even feel guilty about it. But Yasha barely seems to register the thwack, her teeth bared in a sideways grin, her eyes hard and excited and alive. Beau’s probably wearing the same expression. She hears herself laughing, and knows that she is. Up-swing, down-swing, slide left, throw a punch, block one, dart back, duck and then—

Yasha’s fist catches her right in the gut, sends Beau lurching flat into the dirt. She chokes her own breath, coughs up dust, barely gets an elbow up with Yasha leaning over her, blotting out the sun, raising Beau’s staff for a finishing strike—

Halts.

It’s like watching a tower fall. Yasha staggers back. She drops the staff. She lifts her hands and stares at her palms and Beau hears a mangled breath. Her knees give. She collapses on herself.

Beau scrambles up, aching limbs forgotten.

“Yasha?” she says. “Yasha? Are you—is—what’s wrong?”

Yasha sucks in more air, but that just seems to make things worse. Her shoulders tremble and her lungs sound ragged.

“Aw, shit,” says Beau, “I mean—fuck—uh—”

She half-runs, half-crawls, ‘til she’s at Yasha’s side. She wants to put her hand on Yasha’s arm, thinks better of it, panics a little more. She wishes she were Jester. She wishes she were Cad. They’d know what to do, they’d be better at this than her, anyone, hell, Marius would be better at this than her—

But it’s her, and everyone’s still in the house, so she shakes her head and stamps the fear down. 

“Yasha, I...aw, fuck, I’m—I’m here, it’s okay, nothing’s wrong—” clearly something is wrong, idiot, “—I mean, um, you’re safe here, okay? It’ll be alright. I’m here, and I’ll stay if that’s what you want, okay? I won’t go anywhere, if you don’t want. Uh...can you shake your head if you want me to go? Is that...possible, can you—”

A frantic shake.

“Oh good, okay, thank fuck, then I’m here. I’m right here, Yash. I’m not going anywhere.” She tries to pitch her voice calm, takes deep, long breaths, and continues to murmur as reassuringly as she can until after...seconds? Minutes? Yasha’s trembling slows. 

There’s a pause. Yasha inhales and lets it go. It’s shaky, but apparently good enough because finally, eventually, she turns and looks back at Beau.

“I’m...okay. I am okay.”

Beau sinks back into the grass. Then she lies down. “Oh, cool. I’m, uh, glad.”

“I’m so—”

She holds up a hand. “Nope. C’mon.” She pats the ground beside her.

“Er...what?”

She pats it again, emphatic. “Lie down. C’mon. I think we’ve earned a break.”

She stares up at the sky while Yasha shifts around, and eventually there’s a gentle thud as she lies down. Seagulls cry in the distance and clouds drift slowly past their heads.

Beau swears, but mentally. A private thing.

“So, uh...do we...want to talk about it, or...?”

Yasha is quiet for a moment. That’s not surprising. Then:

“It...reminded me of when I killed you.”

“What? Oh—” 

“Almost killed you,” Yasha amended. “Both times.”

“Right,” says Beau. “That’s...right.”

She thinks about saying—almost. You only almost killed me, so really it’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. And you kill people all the time anyway, right?

She blinks. “Wait, you kill people all the time, Yasha. Is it always that bad? Shit, does it always...does it always make you feel like this? Only...I don’t think I’ve ever seen you...break like that...”

She regrets the words immediately. Stupid, Beau, that’s a stupid thing to say. 

But Yasha answers the question earnestly. “It’s usually different,” she says to the sky. “It usually...doesn’t matter. Er...no, not that it doesn’t matter, it just...”

“Doesn’t matter,” Beau sighs. “No, I...sort of get it. Man, that might be fucked up. Of us.”

Yasha shrugs, which rustles the grass. “It’s how it has always been for me. That is just what life is like.”

“I’m sure Jester would disagree.”

“Jester is...nice. I am not. I...have hurt a lot of people. And not just people who were fighting me, or trying to hurt me, but people who were innocent, who did not need not to be hurt, people who care about me, and, and people who I...”

She trails off. Beau can’t see her face, but right now, selfishly, she is glad for it. She feels anger bubbling up in her stomach.

“You were being controlled,” she says fiercely. “You didn’t do it. Someone made you do it.”

“But...part of that...part of it was still me. Since...since you all freed me, I...I remember parts of it. I remember doing it. Those were my hands.” 

Beau can practically hear Yasha’s fist tighten. She definitely feels it when Yasha hits the ground.

“If I was better, or if I was stronger, if I had broken free faster, none of that would have happened, I could have stopped him sooner—”

This time, Beau doesn’t hold back. They’re lying down, so it’s incredibly awkward, but the first thing she can think of is to grab Yasha’s hand.

She sits up, and waves it over Yasha’s face.

“But you didn’t,” she says, then falters, then wants to smack herself. “Fuck, no, that’s not what I mean. What I mean is...” Then she stops. “No, you know what? Fuck it. You didn’t break out faster. And that’s because it was a miracle you managed it in the first place. Yasha, you were being controlled by a devil. You were being controlled by the Chained Oblivion. The fact that you were even a person the first time we met—and you were a person, you were funny, you charged me money to, to, well, you charged me five gold, remember that?”

Yasha blinks. Her wrist is slack in Beau’s grip.

“I...do, yes, I remember that.”

“Right. The fact that you were a person then meant that they couldn’t keep their claws in you. Because you were strong. You were better. Better than everything they tried to make you. You kept breaking free.”

Yasha does not try to squirm away, only stays there.

“But...I needed help every time that I did escape. I never managed it on my own. First it was...it was Kord, and then you all—”

“Of course!” Beau throws her other arm into the air. “Who the fuck could do it on their own?! All that means is that when you had a chance, the second you had a chance, you were outta there. In your heart, you knew what was right. You knew it, and held onto it, even when I’m sure it would’ve been so easy to stay there, to stay in that hell and just go through the motions and lose yourself in...in grief, and loss and...and all that. But you didn’t. And now look at you.”

She cracks a goofy smile, all desperation to make what she’s trying to say heard.

“You’re an angel, Yasha. Remember?”

Yasha slowly sits up too. Her hair cascades down her shoulders, black turning white, with little blades of grass.

Beau is made painfully aware of the fact that she’s still holding Yasha’s hand. She lets go. Then she swears again, and hopes that Yasha doesn’t think it’s because of anything s—

“I am, aren’t I?”

Her gaze shoots up and Yasha's wearing a goofy smile too. Small, a bit nervous, but real and warm.

It’s getting to be familiar.

Beau snorts. She snorts so loud that it might dislodge something in her chest. She hits Yasha gently on the arm.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t, uh, don’t let it go to your head.”

She can see Yasha nodding in the corner of her eye.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Then, after a brief battle over whether or not to bring it up, “I don’t...I don’t...for the record, I’m not mad about you stabbing me. Or whatever.”

Yasha looks stricken, and Beau regrets it instantly. “Shit, should I not have reminded you of—”

“No,” Yasha sighs, and her face softens. “No. I am...glad that you are not mad at me.”

“Should we, like...go to a cleric about this?” Beau asks. “Is this going to be something that happens in, like...fights? Because if it does, it might put you in danger. Also, it’s...it probably sucks for you. Right?”

Fjord would probably have something to say about the way she’s handling this conversation. He’s not here now.

“I...don’t know,” Yasha says eventually. “It hasn’t happened before. It was only...just now. And...just with you. It...hurting you reminded me of being controlled. It...brought me back to all the times that my mind was not my own.”

“I’m sorry,” Beau says, because she’s not sure what else to say.

“No,” says Yasha. Beau looks up, surprised by the weight in her words. “If I am not allowed to be sorry to you, you cannot be sorry to me.”

“Ah,” says Beau. She feels a grin pulling. “In that case...I’m not sorry.”

Yasha nods, like this is sacred, and Beau can’t help but snort again. 

“C’mon,” she says. “We can...work this shit out later. Or start to. With a cleric if you want, or not, if you don’t. But I just got my ass kicked, and I’m thirsty. What do you say to some drinks? I think there’s juice. Do you like juice?”

She stands up, and sticks out a hand. 

Yasha takes it.

“Okay. I like juice.”

— — — 

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

[posallys]

i saw a post about percy and poseidon and i figured i'd drop this stupid little headcanon i have here (i also take stuff from this analysis, so go read that mayhaps)

Ya know how we’ve established i think that Percy’s fatal flaw should be control and not loyalty? And how I talked about the whole “Percy and Poseidon are quick to anger” thing in my analysis of them? And how it’s literally in their nature to want to be in control of everything around them?

okay, well, for whatever reason, percy is on olympus (maybe a solstice? maybe annabeth is talking about stuff for her rebuild? idk)

and a god somebody says something and it he gets pissed, and since his emotions are so closely linked with his powers, he accidentally triggers an earthquake

except, poseidon could obviously tell that there was going to be an earthquake bc he could feel it, so he just kind of pops in front of percy and grabs his wrists/hands and is like "that's an awfully big earthquake you almost caused, ya know."

And Percy’s kind of shaking because he could feel the way the anger took over and how he couldn’t stop the earthquake himself. He was trying so hard to restrain it, to hold it back, but he couldn’t.

He doesn’t really say anything to Poseidon, because he’s clenching his jaw to the point that it’s painful, but he looks up at Poseidon, and his eyes kind of give it away.

(and it may not have been obvious to anybody else, but it was obvious to poseidon because he can't even begin to count the amount of times that look has been on his own face)

So Poseidon takes a deep breath and closes his eyes and nods a little (meanwhile the rest of the gods are just like 👀 👀 because percy almost fucked a lot of shit up and poseidon is being very calm and also being a dad and trying to help his kid)

So he lets go of percy's wrists and is like "come with me"

And Percy kind of hesitates for a moment, but then Poseidon is like “It wasn’t a question” because he knows it’s probably the only thing that’ll help, so it’s Not A Question.

(and poseidon knows that he should have done it after the titan war. He should have helped Percy sooner, but he didn’t, so he has to do it now, and he’s going to do it, because he's not going to let percy keep walking blindly through the mess that is their powers)

Poseidon does some god shit and flashes them out to like. The middle of fucking nowhere. like just creates a little slab of land in the middle of the ocean. nothing around for hundreds of miles except open water

Percy just looks at him like wtf? "Dad, why are we in the middle of the ocean??"

And Poseidon just kind of chuckles and is like “yeah, actually, we are in the middle of the ocean. This is the point that’s as far from any land that you can get.”

“Uh? Why?”

“Because it gives me enough time to stop any damage before it happens.”

Percy’s like “???? what damage?? Pls explain”

“I should have done this after the titan war, Percy. I should have—well it doesn’t matter what I should have done. You have to learn how to let go, and I’m going to help you.”

And Percy doesn’t like the idea of that. He doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t trust himself not to hurt someone or cause destruction (after all, his name means to destroy).

He must be making a face because Poseidon looks at him sympathetically.

“I know it’s hard, Percy. Believe me, I know better than anyone.”

Poseidon pauses for a moment and then continues… “How do you survive a riptide?” he asks.

Percy answers immediately. “You have to let it pull you out. Eventually, it’ll let you go out the side or the back. You don’t want to fight it, though, because you’ll probably drown trying.”

Poseidon purses his lips and nods, and Percy’s looking at him confused for a moment, trying to figure out why his dad asked about a riptide (because Poseidon obviously knows how they work).

And then he Gets It. “You mean...I have to stop fighting…”

“You have to let go. You have to let yourself be carried out sometimes. The longer you fight, the more tired you get, and the worse it becomes. The sea doesn’t like to be restrained, Percy.”

“But I—” Percy’s voice cracks

“I know you don’t want to, but I promise you, it helps.”

Percy nods and lets Poseidon tell him what to do.

Poseidon tells him to scream. To really let everything out. “I know, I know, you’ll probably feel stupid doing it, but do it anyway. No restraints, no worries. let it flow out of you.”

And so he does. He screams the way he’s wanted to for what’s felt like forever at this point. And the ocean responds to him. It responds to his frustration and his anger and his pain. And the waves are rough and choppy and the sky is turning a shade of grey, and the ground is trembling, and then the waves are getting higher and higher and they’re building, building, building, and then they’re crashing onto the ground around him.

And it feels good, really. To let go. to not have to restrain himself

And Poseidon is there watching him (and he’d stop anything Percy may cause before it got to a place where it could cause harm (there’s a reason they’re in the middle of the ocean, after all)).

And Percy’s scream dies out, and he sits down and he breaths and he feels like the world has been lifted off of his shoulders again.

But he’s not done yet because Poseidon is coaching him through things, making Percy create earthquakes and hurricanes and tsunamis, helping him find the balance between controlling them and letting them control him.

And then poseidon teaches him how to release his anger. He walks Percy through the steps. Start with your hands; unclench your fists. Relax your arms, your shoulders. Roll them out, hold yourself up straight. Unclench your jaw, stretch your neck out. Don’t hold the anger back, but don’t let it consume you. You have to change it, you have to feel it. Let it move through you like water flowing down a river. Feel it in your arms and your fingers and your legs, but then push it out. Not aggressively—calm. It has to be calm. You have to let it carry you to a certain point, but you can’t struggle. It’s a riptide, Percy. Once you surrender to it, you can escape it. Once you surrender to it, you really have control.

And it works. Percy goes through the steps, slowly relaxing himself, letting it move through him until it’s no longer anger and he no longer feels like he’s being crushed.

“I caused a lot of destruction when I was a younger god, Percy. I didn’t have a good grip over my anger. It took me a long time to figure out that, while I may control the ocean, the ocean also controls me. Do you know why? Because I am the ocean, and so are you. The ocean is inside of you, and you must find the balance between controlling and being controlled.”

“How often do you do this?”

“Every few months. It’s easy to get caught in the cycle of control again. It’s in our nature to want to be in control, so conceding isn’t easy for us. So when I feel myself on edge, when I start angering quicker, I come here and I let go.”

So they make a habit out of it. They come out to the middle of the ocean every other month, or about as often as either of them needs it, and they let go, and Percy slowly gets better at becoming one with the ocean, better at finding the balance.

(and then they go to this diner in Montauk that Poseidon has a weird obsession with….)

And when Estelle is older, the three of them take the trip out to the middle of the ocean together, and they teach Estelle how to find balance. And she’s younger than Percy was, so her anger hasn’t had time to peak.

Unlike Percy, whose anger is silent, sneaky, creeping up out of nowhere (the way he’s smiling one moment and lashing out the next) Estelle’s anger was a storm you could see coming a hundred miles away. Her anger brews on the horizon, building and building, slowly getting bigger until there's nothing left but for it to shatter. Which makes it easier, really. She’s better at letting go than Percy is—she has time to let it dissipate before it reaches her.

[idreamofplaid]

The Only Thing That’s Real

Square Filled: Fix It Fic

Characters: Sam x witch!Reader; Dean; Lucifer

Word Count: 8802

Summary: The reader falls in love with Sam during his darkest time, and she’s willing to do anything to help him.

Warnings: Non Con (discussed not depicted); heavy angst

A/N: This is for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo. It’s early Season 7 Sam during the time he’s hallucinating Lucifer. It is the longest one shot I’ve ever written, but it didn’t feel right to break it into smaller pieces.

Thanks to @petitgateau911 for being my beta and @thinkinghardhardlythinking for the conversations about Sam and what would be true to his character. Hugs to you both.

The motel wasn’t much; the places Dean stayed never were. His car was another story. It was impressive, and when you saw it parked outside this latest no star establishment, you knew you were in the right place.

You parked in the space next to the Impala, made your way to room 16, and knocked lightly on the green door with the peeling paint. Dean was expecting you. He answered quickly and stepped outside closing the door behind him.

He hugged you and held on a beat longer than he usually would. When he let go, you scanned his face looking for some clue about the situation but couldn’t get a solid read on him. He knew what you were doing, acknowledged your look with a nod, and said, “Thanks for coming.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t? Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” You shifted the bag on your shoulder. “I’ve never seen you like this.” That worried you because you had seen and heard a lot when it came to Dean. Usually, he called on you in need of your witch skills. You’d always had just the right spell for him, but your instinct told you this situation was something else.

Dean’s eyes clouded over for a second. “Sam’s not doin’ so good. He... needs somebody to watch him.” Dean dragged his fingers down his cheek. “He doesn’t know what’s real, Y/N.”

You tried to mask your reaction from Dean. Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this; this was bad. “I see.” You eyed the door behind Dean, imagining what you’d find behind it. 

Dean blew out a breath. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come here. This is too much to ask you to deal with.”

You put your hand on Dean’s arm to settle him. “You called me because just maybe I can help. At the very least, I can make sure he’s not alone and give you a chance to take care of what you need to.” With a little pat, you let your hand drop from Dean’s arm. “Why don’t you give me the short version of what’s happening and then introduce me to this little brother you’ve been hiding?”

The story Dean told was horrifying. Sam had been locked in a cage with the devil in hell. “He has nightmares, Y/N. All the time. He’s been having them ever since his memories of hell came back to him. The things he says in his sleep make my blood run cold.” Dean made a fist, rested his chin on it, and closed his eyes. 

You moved closer and put your arm around him. “I know this is hard for you, Dean.” He dropped his fist and started shaking his head.

“He’s my little brother. I’m supposed to take care of him, and I can’t help him.” Dean took a couple of steps away from you so your arm was no longer around him. You knew Dean well enough to know he felt like he didn’t deserve the comfort because in his mind he’d failed his brother.

“Dean, you are doing everything you can; you always have.” He bent his head back, looked at the sky, let out a deep breath, and then let it fall forward again until his chin was almost touching his chest.

“Y/N, I’m starting to believe things happened to him that the demons torturing me when I was in hell only threatened to do. Just remembering the threat of it kept me awake at night for years after I got out. Now, he’s seeing things. Seeing Lucifer. And Lucifer taunts him, reminds of him of what he did and tells him he’s going to do it again.”

Dean started to pace. “Sam gets this terrified look in his eyes sometimes, and I know he’s seeing Lucifer, hearing him. Sam begs him not to do it again, and he talks about how cold it is inside. He’s afraid of the cold.” Dean chewed at his lip, and looked for a minute like he might start crying. 

“They tear you apart in hell, piece by piece, then put you back together to do it again. It hurts more than there are even words to describe. They mess with your mind. That’s worse than the physical pain. They make you believe all kinds of shit that isn’t real. But I think Lucifer did something to Sam even worse than all that.”

You closed the distance between the two of you and put your hand on Dean’s arm again. “What do you think happened to Sam?”

Dean shook his head harder than he had before. “No. I can’t. I can’t say it out loud. I don’t want to.” 

“Okay, Dean. You don’t have to say it.” You tried to calm him with your voice, but it was having little effect. This was bad for both of them. You felt your stomach drop, knowing how they both had suffered. No one should hurt like that. “How about you introduce me to Sam now? Let me see him.”

Dean gave you a silent nod then turned and opened the door. You followed him into the mostly darkened room. What you saw in that room caused your heart to leap up into your throat; the sight in front of you created an emptiness in the center of your being and fanned to life a dormant flame inside you. Dean’s brother was sitting on the edge of the bed, head and shoulders slumped over. He was powerfully built, taller and with wider shoulders than even Dean’s. His hair was falling over those shoulders and his face. You held your breath for a second or two. You could sense his soul, felt connected to him and the pain he was bravely trying to manage. This man was beautiful, and he was broken.

Dean closed the door behind you and said, “Sammy, there’s somebody I want you to meet.” Sam slowly raised his head. His eyes were haunted, the horrors he held in his mind reflected there. When he saw you, he tried to sit up a little straighter. “Sam, this is Y/N. She’s an old friend of mine.”

Sam attempted a smile. “Hi. Did Dean ask you to come babysit me?” There was nothing bitter or angry in his question. 

You weren’t sure how to best answer him, deciding to go with at least part of the truth. “That’s not exactly how he put it. He said you weren’t feeling so good, and you know how Dean worries; he didn’t want to leave you alone. All these years I’ve known him, you’ve been the mysterious brother I’ve never met. I wanted to change that.” 

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

The first night passed without incident. You’d taken a chance and brought along a chessboard, thinking maybe Sam and his Ivy League mind might like the game. It was a good move; it gave you both something to focus on other than the awkward situation you were in together.

Sam was nothing like Dean, but he had his own kind of charm. He could carry on a conversation in a way that made you feel like you were the most interesting person in the world, and he could talk about any number of things. The two of you discussed everything from favorite childhood books to Spanish architecture, and the conversation was easy.

It was almost impossible, while at the same time nearly natural, to imagine Sam as a hunter. Dean got a certain thrill and satisfaction from hunting. You didn’t sense any of that in Sam, but he certainly had the mind to put the pieces of a puzzle together and solve a case. The way he was built he could take on any monster, and you couldn’t help but notice his eyes were beautiful. They were a mosaic of green, gold, and amber. You could have easily indulged in staring at them endlessly; you appreciated and were drawn to the depth you saw in those eyes. 

You passed a comfortable evening together, and when it was time for bed; Sam took the first turn in the bathroom. That left you alone for a few minutes to gather your thoughts. So far things were going well, but you knew that could change in an instant. You centered and grounded yourself, then cast a quick protection spell over the room. It wouldn’t be long before you would find out that nothing could protect Sam from his own mind. 

Sam slept peacefully in one of the double beds and you in the other until the first faint light of the sunrise began to filter through the golden orange curtains casting a tinted light over the room. That’s when Sam started to yell and plead. “No. No. Not again. Please.”

The pitiful sounds he was making tore you from your sleep, and you went to him. “Sam. Sam.” When calling his name didn’t work, you lightly touched his shoulder. He bolted awake and grabbed your wrist, wrapping his huge hand around it. You knew he could break your wrist, but you didn’t feel the slightest twinge of fear. It was something else entirely you were feeling. You wanted to protect him from whatever it was that was tormenting him and take away his tremendous pain.

You tried speaking to him softly. “Sam, it’s okay. Nothing can hurt you here. It’s alright.”

He looked at you with wide and confused eyes. “Y/N?” Sam looked down at his hand that was still grasping your wrist. He let go. “I’m...I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” He sounded ashamed of what he’d done.

“No, Sam. You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.” You wiggled your fingers and swiveled your wrist. “See? Everything still works.” He watched your motions, and they appeared to reassure him a little. Sam pushed himself up into a sitting position with his back against the headboard. 

He ran his fingers through his hair and scanned the room. He still seemed a little disoriented. “What...what did I do?” He looked to you for the answer. 

You wanted to put your hand on him again, soothe him with your touch, but now that he was awake; you didn’t do that. You tried to comfort him with the tone of your voice instead. “You were talking in your sleep. It sounded like...like someone was hurting you. Do you want to talk about it, Sam?”

He gave a slight shake of his head. “No. It’s...I’m okay.”

Two days later, Dean still wasn’t back. He texted everyday to check in, and you replied back with a confidence you didn’t feel that you had everything under control. Sam had slept fitfully both nights, but nothing else had happened as bad as that first morning until Sam completely cracked in front of you. 

You were playing a game of chess, and as near as you could tell, Sam was about three moves away from claiming your king when he jumped out of his chair to stand in front of you. His arms were outstretched in a protective gesture, blocking something that wasn’t there from getting to you, and he was talking to the empty space. “Stay away from her. Don’t you dare try to touch her.”

You stood up behind him. “Sam?”

He reached back and circled one of his arms around your waist and pulled you close against his back. “I won’t let him near you, Y/N. I promise. I WILL NOT let him hurt you.”

“Who, Sam? Who do you think is going to hurt me?” You reached for his shoulder, as you had during that first nightmare, and lay your hand on it trying to bring him back to reality again. 

Sam’s voice took on a hard steel edge. “It’s Lucifer. He thinks he can do to you what he did to me, but I will NEVER let that happen.” Then Sam started to talk to the empty air, his voice full of conviction. “You can do anything you want to me. You already have. Drag me back to hell and do it all again, but you won’t get to her. I. Won’t. Let. You.”

You started to rub the back of Sam’s shoulder. “Sam, there’s no one there.”

“Y/N, get back!” He started walking backwards, pushing you along behind him until you hit the wall. Then Sam turned and wrapped his arms around you, shielding you with his body. 

He was pressed firmly against you, and it took some effort to push him back far enough to get your hands on each side of his face. “Sam, look at me.” You positioned his face so he was looking directly into your eyes. “Look in my eyes.” You saw the instant his hazel eyes focused on you. “That’s it, Sam. We’re fine. No one’s here. Just us.”

Sam took a couple of steps back; he looked around the room, and then he slowly backed all the way to the bed and sat down. His eyes met yours, and he swallowed hard before he said anything. “I’m sorry.” His words were soft and tortured; you couldn’t keep your distance from him. You joined him on the bed, sitting so close that your leg almost touched his.

You put your hand on his cheek again, much more softly this time, knowing full well that he knew where he was and realized what you were doing. “Sam, you don’t need to apologize to me. You haven’t done anything wrong. Tell me what you see. Tell me what’s going on in your mind.”

Sam’s eyes searched yours, like he was trying to determine how much he could tell you. He reached his decision, and he let you in.  “He taunts me. Reminds me of everything he did to me when I was in hell.” Sam took a long pause and shifted his eyes away from yours. You lowered your hand and put it over his. He rotated his hand so he could close his fingers over yours. Now, he had something to hold onto.

“He says he’s going to do it all again. Says he loves the way I try to hold out, makes it more satisfying when I scream.” Sam shuddered. You rubbed your fingers gently over the back of his hand, hoping it gave him some comfort. Sam closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he said in a strained voice, “He tells me I’m still in hell; I’m with him. He lets me believe you’re real to make it worse when he takes you away.” Tears were shining in his eyes, threatening to fall.

You tightened your fingers around his. “I’m real, Sam. I’m here with you. No one else. Just me.” Slowly, you let go of his hand so you could comb your fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his face. “I’m the only thing that’s real, Sam. He closed his eyes again, tighter this time than the first and nodded. You put your arms around him and hugged him close. “Do you feel that, Sam? It’s real. You’re safe.”

Sam turned toward you and wrapped his arms around you. He was struggling to steady his breath. “Tell me again that you’re here.”

You slipped your fingers into his hair and held the back of his head. “I am, Sam. I’m here.”

That night you slept in the same bed; Sam held you, and he slept without nightmares or hallucinations. You listened to him breathe, felt the warmth of his body next to your back, and the feelings you had for him grew deeper and took root in your soul. You whispered into the darkened room, “You’re not alone, Sam. You never will be.”

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

Your life went back to normal when you went back home, but it was forever changed. You couldn’t get the image of a tall, handsome, and troubled hunter out of your mind. At night, you lay awake in bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering if Sam could sleep. It was one of those sleepless nights that you finally threw back the covers and got out of bed intent upon doing something to answer the questions that kept spinning through your head. 

You took your scrying bowl from the cabinet where you stored it and filled it with water. Your altar was still set up from your last ritual; the candles were still there as well as a place for the bowl. You placed the bowl on the altar and lit the candles surrounding it. The water caught the light from the candles and reflected it up to you. You concentrated on the light and let your vision go hazy. 

A vision of Sam appeared on the water. His palms were pressed against both sides of his head. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, the way you had seen them in person, and Dean was standing next to him. He was saying something to Sam that you couldn’t make out, but Sam dropped his hands and opened his eyes. They were wide open now and filled with fear. He backed away from his brother, clearly scared and trying to get away from something that was terrifying him.

The image of Sam disappeared, and you sat on the floor in front of your altar stunned. You wrapped your arms around your body and hugged yourself. What had you thought you would see? You’d seen the condition he was in for yourself, and it hadn’t just mercifully disappeared. For the rest of the night, you didn’t move from that spot. You sat there in the dark and watched the candles burn down.

By the time morning came, you were exhausted. Fortunately, you had been your own boss since you left the graphic design company you worked for two years ago and gone freelance, but you still had clients and work to do. With that in mind, you were making a strong pot of coffee in the hope it would keep you awake enough to deliver the designs you’d promised. 

Your plan was good, but it wasn’t working. You were distracted and preoccupied. For the third time since the sun came up, you picked up your cell phone with the intention of calling, or at least texting, Dean. What were you going to say? I can’t get your brother out of my mind since I managed to fall in love with him after spending three days with him. Or maybe, I saw him in a bowl of water last night, and I’m worried about him. No, you couldn’t do that. It didn’t matter how much you felt otherwise; your life was not actually connected to Sam’s. Dammit. You put your phone down on the counter with a thud, and snatched open a cabinet to get a mug. 

You had work to do, bills had to be paid. With that in mind, you grabbed the coffee pot and started to fill your mug. The memory of Sam’s hazel eyes flooded your mind; you didn’t stop pouring when you should have, and your cup overflowed, creating a huge mess. You mopped up the spilled coffee and threw the dish towel into the sink with a frustrated sigh.

As it turned out, you didn’t have to pretend to be productive for very long because by mid morning Dean was calling you. As soon as you saw his name on your caller ID, your heart started to pound. You snatched up the phone. “Dean?” Maybe he heard the panic in your voice, maybe he didn’t because he had worries of his own.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry to bother you again.” You wanted to interrupt him, wanted to blurt out all your questions about Sam, but you didn’t, even though Dean was taking way too long to get to the point in your opinion. “Do you think you could spare some time away again? I wouldn’t ask, but Sam...he’s getting worse. I’m afraid he might hurt himself, Y/N, because he can’t take it anymore. He’s getting more lost in his head, and...he’s asking for you.”

“Asking for me?” You sat down, and your already fast beating heart started to beat a little faster. 

You heard Dean sigh over the phone. “Yeah. Whenever he’s out of it, sometimes he thinks you’re here. Then when he realizes you aren’t, he gets upset.” Another sigh. “I don’t know what else to do, Y/N.”

Dean might not know, but you did. “I’ll come. Where are you?”

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

Bobby was another person Dean had mentioned over the years. He’d never said much about his house though, and it was a sight to behold. Once you got past the yard and more junk cars than you had ever seen, the inside was also remarkable. Here, you found more books than you had ever seen outside a library. Practically every surface was covered with them. 

Dean gave you a bit of a tour of the place while he updated you on Sam. “I don’t think he’s sleeping anymore. We’ve been in some tight spots, but this has me knocked on my ass.” For Dean to be admitting anything of the kind was a rare occurrence, and it scared you. The final stop on the tour was an upstairs bedroom at the end of the hall where Sam was staying. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, much as he had been the first time you ever saw him. Only now, there were dark circles under his pain filled eyes, and it was clear what Dean had said was true. Sam had barely slept in a long time, if at all.

He was hugging himself just like you had on the floor in front of your altar, and he smiled when he saw you. You crossed the room, sat beside him, and gave him a lingering hug. When you parted, Sam’s smile got bigger. “Y/N, you’re here.”

You returned his smile. “Yeah, I’m here. It’s gonna be okay now.” 

 Dean was still standing in the doorway, but you had forgotten him until he spoke. “I’m just gonna go.” You turned to acknowledge what he’d said, and he was staring intently at you and his brother. His gaze travelled from you to Sam and back. He tilted his head in your direction then left, closing the door behind him. 

All of your attention went back to Sam. “When was the last time you slept?”

He was slow in answering you, but once more he let you in. “It’s been a day or two; I don’t know exactly. Time is kinda running together.” You noticed the bed you were sitting on was neatly made. Had he even tried to sleep recently, or had he just given up? 

You rubbed your hand up and down his arm to soothe him, and you felt some of the tension leave his body at your touch. You did this for a few minutes then told him, “Sam, I’m going to go make you some tea. I think it will help you sleep.” You’d come prepared, bringing some herbs with you that might help him.

Sam reached for your hand as you started to stand. “Don’t go yet. Stay here with me.”

You lowered yourself back to the bed. “Okay, but I want you to try to rest.” You fluffled the pillows and said to him, “Lie back.” Sam hesitated. You kneeled in front of him and took both his hands in yours. “Do you see him now, Sam?”

His eyes darted to the corner of the room. “Yeah. He doesn’t go away. That’s why I can’t sleep. He won’t let me.” There was a lump in your throat, but you weren’t going to cry. That wasn’t what Sam needed right now. 

“Well, I’m not going away either. I’m going to lie down with you, and I’m going to stay next to you. Alright?” 

Sam was looking at your hands joined together. “Okay. I just want you with me.”

You settled back on the pillows with Sam and guided his head down to your shoulder. You slipped your fingers through his hair over and over, resisting the urge to kiss his head. “Try to close your eyes. I won’t let anything happen to you, Sam.” 

After several minutes of lying there in the quiet stroking Sam’s hair, you shifted to take your phone out of your pocket. Sam sat up quickly, jolted out of the peace you’d given him. “Don’t go, Y/N.” There was no fear in his eyes now. It had been replaced by an empty resignation, and that was worse. 

You cupped his cheek in your hand. “I told you I wouldn’t go, Sam. I’m not.” You held up your phone so he could see it. “I’m just going to text Dean and ask him to bring me what I need to make the tea.” You could see Sam thinking, then he put his head back on your shoulder and draped his arm over your waist to hold you close. 

Moving as little as possible, you typed out your text to Dean. Bring me the herbs I put in the kitchen,  a pot of hot water, and a teacup. 

In a few minutes, there was a knock at the door. This time, you told Sam before you moved. “I’m going to go answer the door. I’ll be right back.”

Dean was standing on the other side, holding a tray filled with everything you’d asked him to bring. You put your hands on the tray to take it from him, and Dean whispered, “How is he?”

“He’s quiet, but it isn’t good.” You had been rolling an idea around in your head, debating if you should do it. Acknowledging Sam was in bad shape out loud helped you make up your mind. “Dean, I want you to see if Bobby has a book on Medieval Italian witchcraft, ideally a grimoire. If he does, bring it to me.” 

He glanced past you to get a look at Sam. “Are you going to do a spell?” 

Saying it was a spell was a bit of an understatement. “I’m going to help him, Dean. Find that book.”

You returned to Sam and put the tray down on the bedside table. You opened the large plastic bag filled with smaller bags of herbs and selected the ones you wanted. You sprinkled some of each herb in the cup then poured hot water over them. Sam was watching you. The look on his face told you he was more interested in making sure you didn’t disappear than in what you were doing. 

The tea steeped for a couple of minutes, then you gave it to Sam. He wrapped both his hands around the cup and asked, “What is it?”

You sat down next to him on the bed. “It’s something to quiet your mind so you can sleep.”

Sam took a sip from the cup that looked so tiny in his hands. “I’m lucky I know a witch like you.” Then he took another bigger drink.

He knew what you were. Had Dean talked about you over the years the same way he’d talked about Sam, or had Sam figured it out on his own? Had Dean told him that you were a hereditary witch with a lineage that dated back five generations? That made you powerful, and you had never been more thankful for that than right now. “Did Dean tell you?”

Sam drank some more. His voice was sounding a little stronger. “I knew he consulted a witch on some of our cases, and it looks like you know your herbs. It’s you that he went to.”

“Does that change your opinion of me? Dean isn’t very fond of witches in general.” You were nervous waiting for his answer in spite of your strong intuition backed by five generations that told you not to be.

“I’m not my brother.” His eyes met yours and something passed silently between you.

You took the now empty cup from him. “I noticed,” you answered softly.

He reached for your arm, and you felt a warmth spread through your body when he touched you. “You have a talent, Y/N. You’ve helped people; you’re helping me.”

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

It was getting late into the night when you heard a soft knock at the door. You checked Sam before you got up. He was still sleeping. Dean had found exactly what you were hoping he’d find. It was a grimoire, and it looked old. He held it out to you. “You read Italian?”

You took the book from him. “As a matter of fact I do.” Your grandmother had taught you the family tradition of Italian witchcraft and learning the language was part of your training.

“Bobby says that’s not modern Italian,” Dean said, explaining his doubt that you could translate it.

“I can still read it.” Your grandmother had been thorough in her lessons.

Dean noticed his brother sleeping, and a smile turned up the corners of his mouth. He looked back to you and down at the book. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

You ignored him and proceeded with your next request. “Will you stay with him while I take a shower and get ready for bed?”

“You’re staying in here tonight?” Dean was trying to figure out exactly what kind of relationship you had with his brother. 

“Yes, I told him I wouldn’t leave him.” You looked over your shoulder at Sam and clutched the book you were holding a little tighter. It had to have the answer you needed in it.

You turned back to Dean, and his eyes locked on yours. “Thank you, Y/N.”

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

You stayed up half the night reading the grimoire, searching for a spell that you were beginning to fear was only a legend, a story your grandmother told you when you were a girl just like she’d told you the story of Cinderella. Maybe it was just another romantic story. She had told you about a spell that had the power to cure anything. It had been created by a witch during the time of the great plague to save the man she loved. Your grandmother had made you the woman you were, the one who would do anything to save Sam. You could still hear her voice echoing in your head. “There is no greater power than love. It can protect. It can transform. It can heal.”

You were almost to the end of the grimoire and losing hope when you reached a page titled “Restoration”. Excitement began to bubble up inside you when you read the description. This was it. The list of ingredients was surprisingly simple; you’d brought everything you would need with you in your collection of herbs. All you needed to do was add a little sugar from Bobby’s kitchen. You read the directions for casting the spell, took a deep breath, and read them again to make sure you’d understood correctly. Your grandmother never told you that part.

All that is required to the diminish the ailment of your lover is your love. During the act of sexual union, focus your intention. Whatever afflicts him will be diminished by half of its force being transferred to you. If the gods have smiled upon you, he will return your love. And, should he love you in return, the affliction will be not only diminished but abolished altogether.

The weight of the words settled over you. You looked at Sam; he was still sleeping beside you undisturbed. If you took half of his mental anguish, he could at least function. He would no longer be living on the brink of a total breakdown, that should it come, might take him from you forever. You traced the line of his jaw with your fingertip; he didn’t stir. Did you love him enough to see the devil? Yes.

You made your way down to the kitchen, careful not to turn on any lights and alert anyone to your movements. Everything you needed was there as you had expected it to be. You crushed up the needed herbs, added the sugar, put it all in some water, and drank the potion. You would gladly sacrifice yourself for Sam, and you would be ready at the right time. You made a silent plea to the goddess that the right time would come soon.

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

You managed to get a couple hours of sleep before you woke and discovered Sam was no longer in bed next to you. You ran for the door and almost collided into Sam coming back into the room. He was dressed in a blue and white plaid shirt, and the emptiness was gone from his eyes. His smile was so big it deepened his dimples and made him so handsome you almost couldn’t breathe. “Hey, Y/N. You want to get some breakfast?”

“Sam, are you…?” The light in his eyes was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

He moved closer to you, so close he was only inches away. “I’m okay. For the first time, in a very long time, I feel okay.” His eyes lingered on yours, then he cupped your cheek in his hand and for several seconds you were lost in the depths of his eyes, a place you would gladly stay forever. Then Sam touched his lips to yours, and it was the softest kiss anyone had ever given you in your life. 

He pulled away, but not too far. He was still holding your face in his hands and looking into your eyes. “Kiss me again, Sam.” You parted your lips when his mouth touched yours, and he accepted the invitation. Sam’s tongue circled around yours, exploring your mouth and discovering the way you taste. You put your arms around him, wanting to hold onto him and the moment. When he felt your arms go around him, Sam deepened the kiss. 

You were nearly breathless when the kiss ended. Sam took your hand in his. “Come downstairs with me? We can have our first breakfast together.” It wasn’t lost on you that he’d said “first”. 

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

In all the time you’d known him, you never knew Dean had such a way with eggs. You caught him looking at Sam and you throughout breakfast. When you got up to take your plate to the sink, Dean saw his opportunity and followed you. “What did you do? He hasn’t been out of that room in days.”

“I gave him some tea to clear his mind, and I stayed with him.” You stacked the dishes in the sink to give your hands something to do, very conscious of Dean closely scrutinizing you. He was trying to figure out what it was that you weren’t telling him. Now wasn’t the time to say it was your feelings for Sam that were helping him more than anything. It was then that the idyllic reprieve ended. 

Sam sank to the floor and curled in on himself. “Please, I can’t again. It already hurts so much. So cold. Hurts.”

You felt a pain shoot through your heart, and you lowered yourself to the floor beside Sam. You ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him, but he didn’t acknowledge you were there. It wasn’t helping this time.

You stood up and turned to Dean. “Help me get him back upstairs.”

Dean nearly had to carry Sam up the stairs, he was so unsteady on his feet. Once back in the room you were sharing with Sam, Dean settled his brother on the bed. You needed to get that spell cast as soon as possible if you could make Sam coherent and strong enough to consent to having sex with you. He’d never consent to you taking his pain, so you were going to keep that part to yourself. 

Sam was shaking when you crawled onto the bed next to him. His eyes were closed, and you could have cried with relief when he said your name. “Y/N?”

“Yes, Sam, it’s me.” You longed to touch him, to make it better.

He opened his eyes, and you saw the recognition in them along with the brokenness. “I’m scared, Y/N.”

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close; he lay his head on the center of your chest, and you held him. “You’re okay, Sam. I promise it’s going to be okay.” Love was indeed the most powerful magic. It had made him better every time he had been near you so far, and you waited for it to work again.

Eventually the shaking stopped; he was calm in your arms. Images of the way he’d looked cowering on the kitchen floor invaded your mind. I love you, Sam. You couldn’t say the words, but they were right there in your mind along with those pictures of him that tore your heart to pieces. 

You let him know what peace he could while you battled with an inner struggle. The last thing you wanted to do was shatter that peace, but you had an awful suspicion. You needed to know, considering what you were about to do. 

“Sam?” You whispered his name quietly, and he stirred in your arms. “Tell me about the cold.”

He didn’t say anything. It was quiet, so quiet the silence hung heavy over you like a weight you could feel pressing down on your shoulders. Then Sam spoke in an unsteady whisper. “I’ve never told anyone.”

You moved your hand to the back of his head to hold it. “You know you’re safe with me, Sam, don’t you? You know you can tell me anything.”

A few more seconds passed and Sam started to breathe out through his mouth in ragged little gasps. “It’s...it’s...Lu...Lucifer. The way he feels when...when….” 

“It’s okay, Sam. Take your time. Breathe. I’m right here.” You tried to prepare yourself for what he was about to say, but that was impossible.

“When he...f...forces himself inside me.” The pain that sliced through you was more acute than if the blade of a sword had cut into you. You squeezed your eyes closed and listened to him go on.

“He did it so many times.” You couldn’t see Sam’s face, and for once you were glad you couldn’t, unsure if you could hold yourself together if you saw the expression there. “It tore at me, and I bled. But that’s not what hurt so much.” You tried to steel yourself; you had to be strong, had to fight the wave of nausea you were feeling. “It was the cold inside me, so cold it burned.”

Several more seconds passed that grew into a minute. He was done. He wasn’t going to say anything else. You knew. All you could do was continue to hold onto him; you couldn’t make that go away. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m so sorry that happened to you.” You kissed the top of his head and let your tears fall quietly into his hair. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, how long the two of you had been like that. Sam hadn’t looked at you once, his head bowed with a shame that wasn’t his to bear. He had put his arms around you at one point and held onto you tightly as if you were his touchstone with the present and reality. His grasp had loosened but his arms were still there when he said, “Why are you still here, Y/N?”

You rested your cheek on top of his head. “Because I want to help you.”

“Why? Why would you want to help me? I’m dirty.” Sam finally raised his head to look at you. His soul was in his eyes, and it was heartbreakingly sad. How had such a beautiful soul survived what he’d been through? 

“Sam, no. You aren’t.” You cupped his cheek, holding his face in your hand. 

Sam’s voice took on an edge of anguished anger. “He said no one would ever want me, would ever want anything to do with me.” Sam hung his head again, the anguish winning.

Gently, you tilted his head up until his eyes met yours. “I do. I want to be with you, Sam.” You touched your lips to his, so softly it was barely a kiss. It was such a different kind of kiss from the one he had given you that morning.

When you pulled away, Sam was looking at you in disbelief, wonder, and with a hope that what you said was true. He swallowed hard. “I haven’t been with anyone since I got my soul back and...remembered. I want to...with you.”

You closed your eyes and opened them, nodding. “You can. However you need.”

You hadn’t expected it to happen like this, this soon, but the necessary ingredients for the spell were in your system. All you had to do to activate them was say you loved him in your head during the act. You didn’t even need to say it out loud. This spell relied solely on you, your feelings and your intention. You’d already been repeating it in your mind like a mantra, and you weren’t going to stop. You loved him so much, you’d given him a part of yourself already. You would give him anything.

“You really want to be with me after what I told you?” You kissed him again as if to prove it, and this time he kissed you back. 

Sam slowly lifted your shirt over your head. He hadn’t exposed much of you yet, but he spent so long looking at you, his eyes roaming over your body, that you wondered if he had changed his mind. At last, he lowered his head and started kissing your neck. His kisses were gentle and open mouthed. He began to make a trail of them, moving lower to your breasts. Then he stopped.

You could feel his breath on your skin when he spoke. “This is okay?”

Your heart clenched and then filled with even more love for him. “Yes, Sam. Whatever you need. I want you.”

He touched you, running his fingers along the top edge of your bra and feeling the swell of your breasts. His hand rubbed over your shoulder and down the length of your arm. When he looked at you, there was no fear in his eyes; but there was hesitation. He could take as long as he wanted to resolve whatever it was that was making him hesitate.

You tried to tell him with your eyes what you couldn’t yet say. I LOVE YOU. Finding enough reassurance in your eyes, Sam kissed you. His tongue making a slow circle around yours. The kiss didn’t last very long, but it was followed by another that was a little deeper. 

Between kisses, his lips stayed near yours. “I like having you close.”

“I like it too,” you answered and hoped it encouraged him to keep going.

The next kiss was the deepest one yet, and you felt your body respond to what he was doing to you. An ache for him began to blossom in your core. You could feel yourself getting wet for him.

His lips moved so close to yours when he spoke. “Will you take it off for me? Your bra?” You nodded, your cheek brushing against his. 

You sat up a little. Sam was watching your every movement. You reached back and unfastened your bra, pulling the straps slowly down your arms. You let it drop somewhere on the bed.

Sam looked at you again, his eyes taking in every inch of you. He whispered, “You’re perfect. So beautiful.” You smiled at him, wishing you could freeze this moment. The tone of his voice and his eyes told you that for a second he had forgotten everything else.

The moment passed. Sam took off his plaid and the t-shirt underneath, peeling it off his body. Now, it was your turn to look. His eyes met yours, and they were questioning you, waiting for a response or some indication of what you were thinking. If only you could say the words you longed to say, you wanted so badly to give him yourself completely, body and heart, if only he was ready to hear them. As it was, with all the doubts he had, you didn’t want him to overwhelm him with that declaration. The words you said instead were “Can I?”

He nodded to you. “Yes.”

You let your hand wander over the muscles in his shoulders, his chest, and his stomach. “You’re beautiful too, Sam.” He closed his eyes. You continued to explore his body with the lightest touch of your fingertips, observing his reaction closely for any sign of distress.

You kept most of your touches well above his waist, letting him feel what it was to be touched by someone who loved him. He sighed, and it was a gentle sound free of strain. You smiled again, even though he couldn’t see you. 

“Sam, do you want me to take off the rest of my clothes?” He opened his eyes, and the question hung there. 

You could hear him breathing deeper now, his arousal starting. “I do want that.” 

You opened the button on your jeans, lowered the zipper, and eased them down your legs. For now, your panties were still on. They were simple, made of white cotton; they didn’t need to be anything else. There was no seduction in what the two of you were doing. It was pure, the purest thing you had ever known or felt. 

“Do you want to touch me, Sam? Let me prove to you how much I want you.” His hand reached out for you, and you took it. You guided his hand to that place beneath your legs where you were wet for him so he could feel it. 

Sam didn’t move his hand. He left it there for a few seconds before lifting it, looking at his fingers, and running his thumb over them to feel the wetness there. His lips parted as he looked to you for verification of what your body was telling him. “See. I want you.”

You slipped off your panties, lay down on the bed, and lifted your arms to him. Sam accepted your invitation, lowering himself over you, bracing his weight so it wasn’t fully on you. Now when he kissed you, his hand was moving down your side, over your hip, and back up again. “You feel so good, Y/N. Your skin is so soft, so warm.”

Feel all the warmth. Take it, my love. Your arms were around him, your hand in his hair. You were ready to do this for him, take on a portion of the horror that caused him to suffer so much. You would take it all if you could.

Sam broke the kiss. “Are you sure?”

You stared into his eyes the way you had imagined doing in that motel when you’d first met him. “I’m sure.”

Sam moved to take off his jeans. He was semi hard, not there yet. That was okay. 

He positioned himself over you again, and you put your arms back around him. You were still being careful to keep your hands on his upper back. While Sam kissed you, you could feel him continuing to harden until he was fully erect. He stopped kissing you, and looked into your eyes, searching once more. You said just one word “Yes.”

He entered you a little at a time, inch by inch, until he was completely inside. Initially, Sam stayed still within you. You bit your bottom lip, adjusting to the way he stretched you and waiting for him to move. When he didn’t, you asked, “Sam, are you okay?”

There was a pause, and then he said, “Am I hurting you?” 

You buried your face into the side of his neck and kissed him tenderly there. “No, Sam. You aren’t hurting me. I like the way you make me feel. 

He started to move with a slow rolling movement of his hips. You didn’t hold back your sounds of pleasure; you let him hear them. Sam responded by beginning to thrust.

That’s when you heard it. “You think you can fix him?” You turned your head in the direction of the mocking voice. It was him. It was working. You saw HIM.

Lucifer looked like a man, but there was a malevolence that radiated out from him. You hated that he could see you now, see you with Sam, invade this most private moment, even if he wasn’t real. He continued to mock you.

“You think you can save him? From me? It’s too late, you foolish woman.” He walked closer. You closed your eyes to block out the sight of him, but you could still hear what he was saying. “He belongs to me. I. Marked. Him.”

You wouldn’t let him violate this moment. You would endure seeing and hearing Lucifer for the rest of your life, but he couldn’t lessen this; this was beautiful. You focused on the connection, on the intimacy Sam was sharing with you. “I want you, Sam. I want you.”

The voice sounded so close, and you squeezed your eyes more tightly closed. “I told you he’s mine. I claimed him. Over and over.” You fought to hold in the sob that threatened to erupt out of you. Sam could not know what was happening. As long as you kept your eyes closed, Sam could mistake the pained grimace on your face for passion. “You should have heard him cry. He begged, pleaded with me to stop.”

Sam’s thrusts got faster. “Yes, Sam. Yes.” You wanted to dig your fingers into his back, but you didn’t. You were receiving what he gave you, what he was ready to give.

Lucifer’s voice, that was now in your head, was cruel. “You know what was the most fun?” You waited, dreading what he would say next, but Lucifer didn’t finish. You opened your eyes. He was gone. That meant….

You could say it now, the words you had been struggling to hold back, because you knew he would want to hear it. “I love you, Sam.”

His hips started to stutter, and he filled you with his release. Your walls fluttered around him, taking you right to the edge, but you didn’t come. It didn’t matter. 

Sam kept you close after he slipped from your body, rolling you onto your side to face him. You gazed into his eyes; you could look at them forever now. Sam’s heart was yours; he wanted you the way you wanted him. He verified what you were thinking by saying, “I love you too, Y/N.” You knew it, but there was nothing like hearing the words. 

“Thank you...for showing me...for giving me what you just did.” He brushed your hair from your cheek. He lowered his eyes, then lifted them back to yours. “You didn’t...did you. It wasn’t good for you. It’ll be better for you next time. I promise.”

“Don’t ever think you don’t give me enough, Sam. Don’t ever think that.” You kissed him softly and sweetly. 

“Will you let me do it now?” Sam asked you quietly. “Make you feel good.”

You traced your fingertip down his check and along his chin. “If that’s what you want. You don’t have to do anything, Sam.”

Sam covered your mouth with his, and you opened to his kiss and his touch. You spread your legs when you felt his fingers moving through your folds. He circled your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure. He had already taken you so close, it wasn’t long before you were coming undone and falling into the bliss of your orgasm. 

He nuzzled his cheek against yours and whispered into your ear, “I love you.” Sam slept peacefully in your arms that night, as you did in his.

The next morning Sam woke you with his kisses. You opened your eyes, and his radiant smile greeted you. He had never smiled like that before. His dimples had never shone so bright. “He’s gone, Y/N. I can feel it.”

You smiled back at the man you loved, the man who returned your love. “He is gone, Sam, and he won’t come back. He can’t hurt you anymore.” Whatever else you needed to do to help Sam deal with what he had been through, you would. The things you might have to face together would no longer include hallucinations of Lucifer. 

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @autumninavonlea @durinsbride @deansyahtzee @waywardnerd67 @fullmooner @sams-sass @beskaradberoya

[yikesharringrove]

Show Pony

Chapter one - Big Sky

Also on Ao3

Billy doesn’t give a fuck about the rodeo. 

He doesn’t care about country music, or fancy horse riding, or the beauty queens, even the bull riders. 

What he does give a fuck about it not being in his house today. 

Not when his dad was obviously itching to pick a fight. Not when Max gave him such an easy out over breakfast. 

“I saw a flyer for a rodeo. I think it’d be kinda neat.”

It was in town for four more weeks. 

And Billy could tell the second he and Max bought tickets, he was about to be spending more time than he ever fuckin’ thought he would spend at a rodeo. 

He based that on the way Max’s eyes lit up the second she stepped inside the big fairgrounds. 

Not knowing that he was right. He was about to spend a lot of time at the rodeo. 

But not for Max. 

For himself. 

And a pretty horse rider named Steve.

He didn’t see Steve that first day. 

Was too busy shelling out his own hard-earned cash to buy Max sugary funnel cakes. Sitting next to her watching the poor suckers get bucked off their pissed-off bull. 

But when Max was in the car she turned to him, the sun setting outside, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“Can we come back tomorrow?”

And the tickets were dirt cheap. And Billy hates being at home. 

So they did. 

And they watched the rodeo queens. 

And the team-roping. 

But it wasn’t until the calf roping that Billy felt his heart sink. 

Because he thinks Steve Harrington might be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. 

Tall and broad, smiling like sunshine at his gorgeous black quarter horse, patting her strong neck and leading her to the entry point of the arena. 

His name was loudly announced after the event name. 

Calf roping, with our very own Steve Harrington! Steve will navigate his beautiful June into the arena, trying to rope and tie down a calf as quickly as possible!

Billy had tuned out everything but his name. 

Leaning forward on his bench seat to watch him lead June up to the starting line, give her a few more pats before swinging one leg up, heaving himself up and over her back, settling into the saddle with a grace Billy doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to describe. 

Steve appeared to shake himself out, leaning forward over June’s neck to speak quietly to the sleek horse, wiggling his hips a bit in the saddle. 

And then he sat back up, readying himself and waiting for the countdown. 

He was off like a fucking shot. 

Billy’s never seen anything fucking like it. 

June kicked up dirt as she thundered through the arena behind a small herd of a few calves, Steve ducked low against her neck as he led her forward, his lips moving as he spoke quietly to her, egging her on and forward. He was clinging to her for dear life, his legs straining as he was tossed up and down in the saddle. 

And then he let go of her reins, one hand reaching for the rope on his belt. 

And it was the most hick shit he’s ever seen. 

This flannel-wearing cowboy on his perfect fucking horse, roping a baby fucking cow. 

He slipped the knot around it from his perch on the moving horse, lassoing it easily like that was a common skill, and with a fluid practiced movement, he tossed himself off the slowing horse, getting on one knee to tip over the calf and tie it up like it was second nature. 

And maybe it was. Performing in a show like this. 

That’s all it was, a performance. Practiced and rehearsed over and over for Steve and June. 

It was over in a blink, Steve tossing his hands up to show he was finished, and the calf didn’t break its bonds. 

The whistle blew and Steve’s time was read to the arena. Nine seconds. And apparently, nine seconds was a good time, judging by the way Steve’s raised his fists in the air, and patted June’s neck so gently. 

He mounted back on his gorgeous horse as the calf he had roped was released by a few of the rodeo workers and the next guy took his position at the starting line. 

Steve did a lap around the arena of June’s back, smiling and waving to the crowd. 

And maybe Billy just has an overactive imagination. 

Maybe his stupid gay brain was looking for something not there. 

But he could’ve sworn he saw Steve grin just a little bit brighter in his direction. 

There were a few riders after him. Competing to earn a faster score on the same track. 

But Billy didn’t give a fuck about calf roping if he wasn’t watching Steve and June. 

The sun was setting as Billy finally led Max out of the fairgrounds, one hand on the top of her head, steering her towards the Camaro. 

“So, you think we can come back next weekend” Max was giving him a big shit-eating grin, powdered sugar all done her front from the final funnel cake Billy had shelled out to buy her. 

“Don’t see why not. Get’s us outta the fuckin’ house, don’t it.”

“Plus, there are lots of good-looking cowboys, just everywhere. Did you see the guy doing the cattle roping, or whatever? He was cute .” Billy rolled his eyes. Max was just touching the age when she stopped thinking of boys as gross, saw them as cute, and whatever else she said. It also made her realize that having a gay brother apparently meant talking about nothing but boys. It made Billy wanna slam his head into the steering wheel. He grunted in response as she kept going on and on about Steve. 

Like Billy didn’t see the way his thighs gripped the sides of his horse, like he didn’t watch as he hurled himself off June to tie up the fucking calf. Like he didn’t watch him take that fucking victory lap, shit-eating grin looking like home on his pretty fucking face. 

“You gotta carry your own weight, you know that, right Shitbird? I’m talking, pay for your own damn fried shit.” He bets Susan would give him money for tickets if he acts real nice this week. 

He can’t blow all his savings at the fucking rodeo of all things this summer. He’s got plans for the wad of cash burning a hole in the shoebox in the back of his closet. 

Max huffed at him. 

“What am I supposed to do? Get a job? I’m thirteen .”

“So? Babysit or some shit. Rob an ATM. Fuck if I care. Just quit stealing all ‘a my goddamn cash for your fuckin’ funnel cakes .”

“You’re just pissed off because you didn’t try one. They’re the best. You gotta have one next week.”

“I, unlike you, care about what I put in my body.”

“Yeah, because cigarettes and beer are so much better than fried dough .”

“Whatever.” The truth is, Billy’s gotta watch what he eats. Max didn’t know him when he was prepubescent and chubby. He can’t be sitting there shoving funnel cakes in his mouth and not expect it to all go to his gut. Not like her. There’s not an ounce of fucking baby fat on her. She’s positively scrawny. If anything, the funnel cake might help her out a bit. 

“Yeah, whatever .” She huffed, slumping back in her passenger seat. “But can we come back?”

“Fuck, if you keep askin’ me, the answer’s no .”

She huffed again. She does that a whole lot when they talk. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it. I saw the way you were watching Steve race. You were practically drooling .” 

Billy clenched his jaw. 

“Was not .”

“Was too .” 

And Max had a knack of leading Billy into moments like this, childish little arguments that made him feel kinda weird inside. Made him feel kinda warm at how sibling it was. Like they hadn’t been forced together just a few years ago. 

For all his bitching, he really did like the little spit. If he didn’t, he’d be a bigger asshole than she’s always accusing him of being. 

“You don’t even know what I look like when I’m really eyeing a boy, if you think that was it. Just, you know. Respected his riding.”

“ Respected his riding. Yeah ‘cause you wish he was riding-”

“Finish that sentence and I’m pushing you out of the fucking car.”

“I’m right, though.”

Billy just reached forward to turn up the radio, letting Dee Snider drown out any other awful shit Max wanted to say to him. 

Which was probably showing his hand too much. No direct answer pretty much means affirmative when it comes to Billy. And yeah, Max knows that. Judging by the way she’s cackling like a goddamn gremlin over the sound of the music. 

He just pressed his foot down further on the gas pedal, letting them fly down the highway. 

And he thought about Steve and June, thought about how fast Steve could press that girl to go. Thought about him leaning forward, flattening himself to the horse’s neck, gripping onto the reins and urging her forward, urging her faster. 

And if he thought about those strong legs wrapped around him, if he thought about what Max was about to say, Steve riding Billy like he would that fucking horse, his hips flexing as he bounces up and down, well, that’s his business. 

And the next Saturday, Susan slid him a crisp twenty-dollar bill to buy Max some lunch at the rodeo. 

They took it more seriously this time, bringing water bottles, and Max slathering thick white sunscreen on her freckled skin. 

Billy even wore shorts, some old jeans he sacrificed to the summer gods when he wore holes in the thighs and chopped pretty much in half. 

And it was kinda fun. 

He knew what to expect now. Knew the barrel racing was all women, all beautiful horses winding their way along clover-shaped tracks. He knew that the bull riding was a little more fun to watch with a shot in him, and that his fake i.d. could get him an alcohol wristband from the tent at the front.

Max sneered at him when he bought himself a beer later in the day. 

“Uh, you know you have to drive me home, right? Like, and not crash your stupid car on the way home.” 

“Fuck off. It’s one beer.”

“And also that shot earlier, and I know you have a flask.”

“Okay, what are you, the cops? I’m just tryna enjoy myself in this blistering fucking heat. I don’t exactly get my rocks off to any of this shit.” Which is a lie. He’s totally sold on every stupid fucking event at the motherfucking rodeo. 

“Fine. You wanna get stupid and drunk? Then you have to take me to the pageant. I wanna watch it.”

“Since fucking when do you give a shit about the pageant .” Max glared at him. Her nose was beginning to get red. 

Maybe if Billy were less of a shithead he would tell her to put some sunscreen on. But she was really testing his patience today. 

And then her eyes went huge, and her jaw went slack, and Billy was just about to tell her to close it and quit lookin’ like a dead fuckin’ fish when he heard someone cough slightly behind him. 

And when he turned, he almost made the exact same stupid dead fish face as Max. 

Because gorgeous cowboy Steve was standing right in front of him. In another cracker of a flannel shirt, stupid blue jeans, and fucking cowboy boots, because yeah. He’s a goddamn hick that rides a horse and ties up calves in a traveling rodeo for a fucking living. 

And God save Billy, because hot damn. 

Steve had an easy smile on his face, a little bit lopsided, and perfect white teeth showing between perfect pink lips. 

“Hey there.”

“Howdy,” Billy responded before he could stop himself, his face burning up. 

He was hoping he was already sweaty enough Steve wouldn’t notice the flush. 

But thankfully, Steve’s smile went wider, and he laughed, this gorgeous bright laugh, his head tossing back, and that thick hair flowing easily. 

He had gold streaks in his hair, lighter browns tussled within the darker colors. Billy wondered if they were natural, days spent out in the sun on his horse. Part of him hoped they weren’t. Part of him hoped that Steve was that intentional with himself and his goddamn hair. 

He smiled at Billy. 

“I’m Steve.”

“We saw you. Last weekend,” Max blurted out before Billy could kick her. She looked shocked that she had even spoken when Billy turned to give her a death glare. But Steve just laughed his gorgeous laugh again. 

“And what’d you think?”

“She wouldn’t shut up about you on the way home.” And Steve was back to looking at Billy, and his eyes are so fucking big, like, who’s eyes are just. Like that. Just fuckin’. Big. 

“And what about you, uh-”

“Billy. And this is Max. My sister.”

“Well, Billy,” and fuck Billy nearly creamed himself at the sound of Steve saying his name. “Did you like my display of talents ?”

“Could say so. I don’t give too many shits about all this hick farm stuff. But I can respect it.”

“Well, that’s alright then.” And Steve reached out to pat Billy once on the shoulder. “I hope I see y’all around. I gotta head off, June needs some TLC before our time.” He smiled at Max, and her already red face flushed deeper, almost blending into the roots of her flaming hair. 

And then he doubled back. 

“You know what, I forgot why I came over here in the first place.” He was digging through his jeans, rummaging around in his back pockets. 

Billy wanted to slide his hands in there, cop a feel while he helped Steve look for whatever he was going to offer Billy. 

And then Steve brought out two white wristbands. 

“They’re for, uh, VIP seating and stuff. If you’re interested. Gets you closer to the arena. That way I can just see what you look like after I’m comin’ off a ride.”

Hoo boy. 

This little cowboy has some fucking charm. 

And he knows it too, judging by his smug little half-smile he gave Billy while he fastened the wristband around his wrist. 

He helped Max with hers, doing it faster than he had Billy’s, and with a lot less eye contact, which was a good sign. He’s not perving on his twelve-year-old sister. Which is cool. 

And then he was looking back at Billy, and brushing his long fingers over the tops of Billy’s shoulders, his arms out in his shirt, the arms torn off an old Aerosmith t-shirt he found at the Goodwill last year. 

“You should reapply sunblock. Don’t want you burning now.” And Billy’s sure if Steve was wearing a Stetson, he woulda tipped it at them. “Enjoy the pageant.”

And he was off, and Christ, those jeans. How did Steve even successfully ride his horse in those things? They were so tight, showed off his nice peachy ass as he walked through the fairgrounds. 

“Wow,” Max said. And yeah, Billy felt the same. 

“In case it wasn’t clear, based on the way he was flirting with me, and also that he’s way too old for you, but, uh, dibs .”

“Billy, you can’t just call dibs on a person.” Billy just laughed. 

He knows that his twelve-year-old fucking sister doesn’t have a shot in Hell with Steve. Really, he doubts he even has a shot in Hell with Steve, but he also likes to spend his time making her life as difficult as possible without actually being a shitty person. So, he just riles her up. Says shit that’ll get her going. He wouldn’t be doing his brotherly duties if he didn’t say that shit. 

Max calls it even by kicking him in the shin twice and making him watch the stupid beauty pageant. 

Which, like, why the fuck are there beauty pageants at the rodeo anyway? 

Turns out it wasn’t pageant at all, but the four previous Miss Rodeo’s all lined up and looking far too glammed out for this fucking heat. 

Max faked being disgruntled by the disappointment, but Billy knows, somewhere inside that tough bitch little soul of hers, she’s glad she didn’t have to sit through a goddamn pageant just to make Billy miserable. 

Besides, Billy had whipped out his flask a few times, and he was feeling alright. Just buzzed enough that the heat had stopped making him feel quite so disgusting. 

But not too drunk to miss calf roping. 

And yeah, maybe it was a little bit lame to make their way over to the VIP seating earlier enough that they scored the front row. But when Steve came trotting out, leading June behind him, Billy was close enough he could pick out the cluster of moles on Steve’s left cheek. 

So, lame was not in Billy’s vocabulary today. 

It was pretty much the same thing as last week. Steve made everyone in the arena ooh and aah with his riding, tied up the calf in less than ten seconds once again. 

But this time, when he took that jaunty little lap around the small arena, Billy knows for a fact Steve grinned at him. Knows his stupid gay brain wasn’t making up the wink he tossed effortlessly in Billy’s direction. 

And they left, just like last weekend, as the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. 

“Just, c’mon. Mom gave you money .” Max was whining for a corn dog, of all things. When they have perfectly good, not fried food, at home. 

“Maxine, I swear to Christ, I’m fucking tired. Let’s go home so I can crash, and you can fucking drive Susan up the goddamn wall with your whining.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem too bad.” And Billy felt his insides curdling at that voice, felt himself wilting and shriveling because he would not be getting out of this day without one final, no doubt embarrassing, encounter with his gorgeous cowboy. 

Steve was leaning against a booth selling chili fries, looking like a perfect picture of a Clint Eastwood movie. 

Billy had never liked westerns. 

But he was gonna go home and spend all night watching every one he could get his grubby little hands on. 

Steve pushed off the side of the booth as Max found her words again. 

“You don’t have to live with him.”

“And you don’t have to live with my folks. I’d trade you any day.” 

And Billy nearly died. Right there. On the spot. Because. Holy shit. I’d trade you any day. 

Billy was more than happy to follow this fucking hick around America, watch him ride his pretty horse before fucking him against the stable wall. 

Or whatever. Do they have stables? Billy doesn’t know how a traveling rodeo works. 

But like, they’ve gotta have stables, right?

“Nah, you’d get sick of him. He stinks.”

“Have you ever smelled horse shit? Because that’s the fragrance I wake up to every morning.”

And Max was laughing, and Steve was laughing, and Billy was trying to keep his hands as casually as possible in front of his slight chub. 

“Will I get the privilege of seeing you two again?” And what a way to word it? The privilege. And then Steve was looking Billy up and down, and he was biting that perfect bottom lip and opening his mouth and “I could always give you my phone number. So we can. Meet up. Next time you’re here.”

“‘Course. You can give us the grand tour.”

And Steve was digging in those tight back pockets again, and shoving his phone into Billy’s hand, and he doesn’t have a passcode, but his home screen was a picture of him and his fucking horse which is, just about the sweetest thing Billy’s ever seen. 

And Billy put himself in as Billy Hargrove , and then panicked because Steve doesn’t know his fucking last name. So he settled for Billy and then for good measure shoved San Diego after it because. Billy’s a common name, okay?

And Steve took his non-password protected fuckin’ horse girl phone, and Billy was giving him as charming a smile as he could muster with sweat on his upper lip and saying-

“You better text me, Pretty Boy. So I can save your number.” Billy shrugged, looking off to his left to try and seem. Nonchalant. “In case I wanna see you again.” 

And Max was rolling her eyes, but she wasn’t stopping away. Wasn’t even whining at Billy, no doubt on her best behavior in front of hot cowboy Steve. 

But Steve had a glint in his eye, and if Max wasn’t here Billy would be playing this all different, laying on the charm a lot thicker than he was. 

But he can’t be a horny bastard in front of her. That’s just, like, gross. 

So he settles for making a real show of licking his bottom lip, and maybe flexing his bare arms just a tiny bit. 

“We should probably get goin’. Got a curfew for this one,” Billy jerked his head in Max’s direction. She huffed before she could stop herself. “See you around, Cowboy Steve.”

And Steve gave another one of his pretty ringing laughs. 

“Come again soon, Billy and Max.” And again, Billy’s sure that if Steve were wearing a hat, he would’ve flicked the brim at them as he set off back into the rodeo, dodgin off the main thoroughfare. 

“Wow. That was embarrassing for you.” 

Billy whipped his head around to stare at Max, giving her the most disgusted look he could muster. 

“The fuck you mean?”

“You were so obvious.”

“That’s the fucking point . We were flirting. It’s supposed to be obvious, you demon.” Billy shoved her once before stomping in the direction of the parking lot. 

“Yeah but you were like, making these faces at him.”

“Shut the fuck up. I know what I was doing, okay? It was all very calculated . Let him know I’m down for it, and if he texts, then I’m good to go. If not, then I move on.”

And the thought of Steve not texting was kinda, disappointing. Because Billy really wanted him to text. He wanted to stay up late giggling at his phone and the dumb things Steve texts him and pretend they don’t make him flush like a fucking school girl. 

He pointedly didn’t look at his notification when he reached the car, just shoved an old tape in and turned up Black Sabbath when Max wrinkled her nose at it. 

They were both quiet on the drive back home. Something heavy unsaid between them. 

And only as Billy was pulling into his spot in the driveway did Max suck in a big breath to actually put it out there. 

“I won’t tell. About him. Not even Mom. Not even that I think he’s cool.”

“Thanks. Easier just to. Avoid at all costs.” 

And if Billy were a better person, maybe he would hug her or something. 

But they don’t do that. Instead he sighed and didn’t hip check her violently off the porch like his instincts were telling him. So really, he’s a fucking saint. 

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Dolls’ Eyes — A Jaws AU

Pairings: established Peggy/Steve, developing Brunnhilde/Carol Rating: T Chapters: 14/14

Summary: Tony Stark snapped his fingers and the vanished half of the universe returned, but Thanos escaped the battlefield, fleeing into space. Now that he’s virtually powerless, most of the Avengers consider chasing him all over the universe a waste of resources, but Peggy Carter—newly deposited in the 21st century—is determined to finish the job. Brunnhilde and Carol Danvers have the same idea.

When scattered rumours of fresh killings escalate to the death of one of their own, the three women team up to defeat Thanos once and for all.

read the prologue

read ch. 1 one / 2 two / 3 three / 4 four / 5 five 6 six / 7 seven / 8 eight / 9 nine / 10 ten 11 eleven / 12 twelve / 13 thirteen / 14 fourteen

After everything, Carol wasn’t surprised that Brunnhilde put up a fight over being told to just rest. Carol reminded her that she was lucky to be alive, to which Brunnhilde responded that it wasn’t anything like luck, and went on to list the incredible, lifesaving properties of her fine armour, explain the enhanced durability provided by her Asgardian biology, and enumerate all of the injuries she’d previously sustained that were apparently worse than being electrocuted half to death, and then nearly drowning while incapacitated. Carol didn’t believe half of it, but it was kinda hot when Brunnhilde bragged.

So, in spite of Carol’s efforts, Brunnhilde kept getting up the second her back was turned in order to haul bodies off of Thanos’s ship. As they started to fix everything Carol had broken (including a patch job of that hole in the roof), a scan of the local environment informed them that almost all of the life on this planet was aquatic. They left the stack of corpses on land. Whatever water critters were around, they didn’t need toxic eyeball goo leeching into their habitat.

Carol caught Brunnhilde shaking out a twitching arm and made her sit to do electronic repairs rather than manual labour. (Carol had that handled anyway, plus, she knew where all the bodies were because she was the one who’d left them there.) Brunnhilde protested that she was the captain. Carol came way too close to saying not of this ship, but stopped herself. Instead, she suggested Brunnhilde do like any other captain would and let her underlings take on the grunt work. That got a smile, if not verbal agreement.

Thankfully, Peggy was a fast learner; Carol explained the basics of what she’d done to wreck something and Peggy quickly understood how to walk back the damage. They worked their way through the ship, staying at neighbouring stations so Carol would be there if Peggy had questions, and Peggy would be there if (when) Carol had messed something up so badly that it needed four hands to fix.

“Maria would’ve been great with this,” she said without thinking, holding up a fistful of wires while Peggy tinkered beneath.

“Maria?”

It was easier to talk about her than it had ever been before. Like with the repairs, she could tell that Peggy understood without Carol having to do much more than gush over how good Maria had been at fixing stuff, how thorough she’d been with the plane she’d kept in the hangar on her property, how reliable, how trustworthy, how patient…

“Yes,” Peggy told her with a smile. “She sounds like she was wonderful.”

“She was.”

But when the two of them had finished their circuit of the ship and Carol went to tell Brunnhilde they were good to go, she wasn’t there. Carol panicked, worried that Brunnhilde had overheard all her praise of Maria and somehow missed the tone of a person who was in the late stages of grief, who had accepted the worst and was keen to keep living, maybe even loving.

When she couldn’t find her on the ship, she jogged down the ramp, intending to look for her outside. The second she turned to face the water, she spotted Brunnhilde coming towards her from the escape vessel. Carol ran out to meet her.

“What’s all this?” she asked in a tone of amusement, because Brunnhilde had her arms full.

“Food, Peggy’s jacket, a couple beers that didn’t get smashed when Thanos rammed us, uh…” She tried to examine the rest of the pile she was carrying, but it teetered and slipped; laughing, Carol scooped a few things out of her arms before they could end up in the shallow water.

“I thought you might’ve taken off on us,” she said lightly.

“I didn’t think you thought I’d be capable of that after getting zapped.”

“I was just…”

Brunnhilde walked close, pressing her arm into Carol’s.

“I know. I would’ve been the same way if it’d been you.”

“I don’t even know if I can get electrocuted,” Carol said.

“I’m not gonna recommend trying it for fun,” Brunnhilde told her. “Anyway, I used all my discs on Thanos and I dropped the remote in the water somewhere… You’d have to go to Thor with your request, ask him to bring the lightning down.”

“Straight to Thor?!” Carol laughed. “That seems a little extreme.”

“Or you could just stand around outside in New Asgard during a storm and wait for it to happen naturally.”

“And why would I need to be in New Asgard specifically?” Carol asked in a teasing voice. “I could get struck by lightning anywhere.”

She watched Brunnhilde flounder but couldn’t get an answer out of her, not on the way to the ship, not while she was distracted with Peggy asking her a slew of health questions, and not while they were trying to figure out how to get this humongous spaceship off the ground with a crew of only three people.

As they made their rocky assent, Carol was too busy to wonder whether Brunnhilde had heard her talking about Maria before she’d left the ship to scavenge from the escape craft. They had just broken through the atmosphere, blue sky giving way to black, when Brunnhilde spoke.

“Love’s like war.”

It was so sudden that Carol snorted a laugh.

“Ok, poet,” she said. She was tempted to devote some time to getting Thanos’s ship to play her music, if only to put on ‘Love Is a Battlefield’ for Brunnhilde. To let her know what had been said on the subject already.

She smirked to herself when Brunnhilde continued, clearly not giving a shit about her interruption or joking criticism.

“It is.”

“What do you mean?” Carol asked more seriously.

Brunnhilde shifted in her seat, engaging different protocols for outer space travel. Carol noticed the tremor had gone from her arm.

“You do better in both because of experience,” Brunnhilde said, looking straight out the viewport. “Anybody who can’t appreciate the benefit of falling for someone who’s been in love before is a fucking idiot.”

“And you’re not a fucking idiot.”

“I hope that isn’t a question.”

Carol smiled and shook her head. They flew in silence for a while.

“When we get back,” she said eventually, peering shyly over at her captain, “I owe someone important to me a visit, but then I’m coming to see you. Just a heads-up.”

“Vaguely threatening.”

“Sorry.”

“No,” Brunnhilde told her, grabbing her forearm to get her full attention, “I liked it.”

Heat raced up Carol’s neck until she was blushing as bright red as her suit, or the dumb acid burn on her arm.

Just then, Peggy’s agitated voice came from the other end of the wide flight deck.

“Someone’s coming right at us!”

Before Carol had the chance to say what the hell? or who? or again?, an incoming message threw a distantly familiar face up in front of them, hovering in the form of a hologram.

“Hey,” Carol greeted. “Small universe.”

—

Peggy had never thought to imagine what Gamora might be like. She’d had an account of Peter Quill’s affection for her from Rocket, but had recognized that a portrayal of the woman that crew had known—the woman Peter had loved enough to forfeit his life in the quest for reunion—couldn’t be fully accurate. At best, the Gamora they described would be one layer removed from the real person. The Gamora they had known and the one whose hologram had just appeared before Peggy, Carol, and Brunnhilde were a handful of years and a thousand experiences apart.

It seemed absurd to Peggy that this woman may wish to harm them, but she really ought to have considered it.

“Was it your distress signal I picked up?” Gamora asked flatly, eyes locked on Carol in the pilot’s seat.

“Umm… yep.”

“And you still require assistance?”

Carol glanced at Brunnhilde, then over to Peggy, who nodded. They certainly had worked wonders, she felt, in getting this massive spaceship off the planet, but who knew how many things could go wrong between here and Earth? Peggy doubted either of her shipmates had told her the half of it. They were simply short-staffed, too few fingers available to plug any metaphorical leaks they might spring on the journey.

“Yes please,” Carol told her.

With a nod, 2014 Gamora went from unknown quantity to ally. Peggy sighed in relief.

The three of them were transported directly from Thanos’s ship to Gamora’s. The process was quite indescribable, Peggy thought. Tingly, quick, with a bit of a lurch as she rematerialized on an entirely different flight deck from the one she’d just left. Had the transfer been instantaneous? Had she, perhaps, ceased to exist for a moment or two? She was full of questions but unsure to whom she should direct them.

Gamora, while welcoming in deed, was somewhat inscrutable when they met her face-to-face. Standoffish. Unsure of herself, Peggy realized. Immediately, she warmed to the woman. She had been in her place herself once, sort of, if not precisely in her intimidating boots. It hadn’t been so long ago that she’d been ferried through time to find the world completely changed. What Gamora needed was a reason to trust them the way they were trusting her.

“I take it you killed my father?” Gamora asked plainly once they were aboard.

Oh dear. It seemed they weren’t off to a very auspicious start.

Brunnhilde stepped in front of Carol, who’d just been opening her mouth to speak, presumably to claim responsibility.

“I was the captain,” she stated. “Thanos was killed on my orders.”

“Uh, no, not explicitly,” Carol argued.

“Anyway,” Peggy piped up, “I’m the one who shot him in the head.”

“And he was only vulnerable to that because I electrocuted him to within an inch of his despicable life and his helmet fell off,” Brunnhilde countered.

“On a planet I flew us to,” Carol reminded them.

“We’ll be sharing the blame,” Peggy informed Gamora on behalf of her crewmates.

Gamora cocked her head consideringly.

“And if it’s approval?” To their universal silence, she explained, “I know what he was capable of in my time, and I saw enough of Earth to get a general idea of what he was set to accomplish if he wasn’t stopped.”

“Were you out here hunting him too?” Peggy took a step towards her.

Directing her gaze away from them, Gamora blinked rapidly, looking momentarily confused and upset. In the next second, she’d hidden any outward hint of those feelings.

“I should’ve been,” she said, “but I’ve never been able to stand up to him like I should have. After I left your planet… for a while, I wasn’t looking for him. But I began to see signs. And then Peter Quill came.”

“Peter!” Carol said. “You saw him? Did you talk to him? Rocket never said—”

“No. I just watched. I followed him for a while. I knew he was looking for me. He was so… loud.” Gamora made a face. “Leaving word for me everywhere, telling traders and transports that he was my boyfriend. He was an idiot, but an entertaining idiot… I barely noticed that I’d stopped keeping track of Thanos until he just showed up…

“I was a coward,” Gamora went on. “I saw my father intercept Peter’s ship and I knew what would probably happen, but I couldn’t put myself between the two of them. Was I supposed to stand up for this guy when I’d never been able to stand up for myself? I was raised to be cruel, to think of myself, that attachments formed to accomplish anything but the acquisition of power make you weak. I know Thanos killed Peter. It’s my fault he’s dead.”

Peggy stood in front of her, refraining from placing a reassuring hand on Gamora’s shoulder when she gave her cagey eyes.

“It’s not,” Peggy told her firmly.

“I only heard your distress signal because I heard Peter’s first,” Gamora said. “I went onboard after my father had left; it was days before I could force myself to do it, maybe longer. I used his communications system to speak to his crewmates on Earth.”

“You must’ve just missed us leaving,” Brunnhilde said.

“That’s what he told me. He said three more morons had left the planet, on their way to hunt down Thanos.”

“And you’ve helped us,” Peggy said, tone insistent. “If you do feel any responsibility for what happened to Peter, then surely you should also believe that you’ve redeemed yourself by saving our backsides.”

Gamora’s eyes squinted as though she were in pain.

“I owed him more than this and I hate it,” she said, jaw clenched. “He was no one to me. He knew someone I’m never going to become.”

“Shhh. I know,” Peggy said soothingly.

“I don’t see how that’s possible. Have you ever had someone tell you they love you when it feels like it’s impossible that they even know you? That whoever they loved had to be a different person from who you are?”

Peggy’s shoulders fell. She could feel the bittersweet smile on her face.

“Actually, yes.”

Gamora appeared surprised to have been brought up short in such a manner.

“Do you have any advice?” Peggy urged softly.

For a minute, Gamora was quiet, staring hard at the wall. Peggy could feel that the others had backed away, giving them time and space when Gamora’s stream of information had been diverted by the confusing grief she was obviously experiencing.

“Whatever lengths he goes to because he thinks you’re better than you are…” Gamora finally said, turning her head to look Peggy in the eye. “Try to be worth it.”

“Got it.”

Peggy folded her hands together, pressing her right palm to her wedding ring.

—

They were about to get underway, their new crew of four on a significantly smaller, though sleeker, ship. (Brunnhilde didn’t mourn for the one they’d left in the shallows; it had served them well, first the Asgardians and now the team responsible for the death of Thanos.) However, staring out the viewport from the seat in which she’d been installed as the effective second-in-command, Brunnhilde didn’t feel right. The sight of Thanos’s ship just hanging there in space unnerved her. It would be better if no trace of the Titan remained.

“Let’s blast it,” she suggested to the deck at large.

“Thanos’s spaceship?” Peggy checked.

“Yes.”

“Well,” Carol said, “we aren’t near anything. There’s nothing for the debris to hit…”

Brunnhilde smiled slightly and looked to the captain.

“Gamora? Do you have any weapons on this ship that could do the job?”

“There is one thing I’ve been saving for a special occasion,” Gamora said, gaze fixed on Thanos’s ship. “First, we’re going to need to get clear.”

She piloted them away—away from the planet, away from the ship. Part of Brunnhilde wanted to request the honour of launching the torpedo Gamora was setting the coordinates for, locking it onto her late father’s final vessel, but she was already satisfied with the role she’d played. Let Gamora take this final, symbolic step. It was like Thor’s hideous couch; Brunnhilde had helped him lug the thing into the open air, but permitted him to drop the match (once she’d soaked the cushions in lighter fluid, just in case it wasn’t sufficiently saturated in spilled beer). She would content herself with watching it go up in flames.

And it did. It was an impressive explosion, scattering wreckage in a wide perimeter Gamora had kept them outside of. They were briefly silent as jagged hunks of metal twisted in the void.

“That’s one way to get the stink of dead bodies out,” Carol noted, and Brunnhilde turned to her, shoulders shaking with laughter Carol quickly joined in on.

They flew for some time, and it was good just to relax, to stretch in her seat and tilt her head from side to side so that her neck cracked horrendously and Peggy said things like “good lord!” while Carol laughed her ass off. Brunnhilde remained alert though. She couldn’t help it. In the old days, with the Valkyrie, there’d been a certain relief when the battle in which they’d been engaged was done, but they’d only known true rest once they’d returned to Asgard. Home. The last time she’d been on a ship bound for Earth, the atmosphere had been one of intense grief, muffled weeping in the corridors. They’d known Earth as Midgard and had little admiration for its country of Norway, chilly with fog and swathed in the bleak colours that reflected their inner emptiness. Nothing they loved was there—not their people, not their gleaming towers and soaring statues. How could it ever possibly feel like coming home?

Brunnhilde had honestly believed she’d lost her ability to experience that feeling, that, without her sisters-in-arms, the sensation was lost to her. Yet, despite the tension she still carried from the fight, she felt it easing. She felt herself longing for home, her little house at the water’s edge. For the chance to return to her people as their king and announce a great evil defeated. Maybe this tension was only anticipation after all.

In contrast to the fruits of her own contemplation and revelation, Gamora’s private thoughts had left her expression mournful and roving. Brunnhilde exited the deck to relieve herself and find something to eat in Gamora’s stores, and when she returned, she addressed her.

“You’re not taking us all the way to Earth, are you?”

Gamora flicked her gaze sideways to assess her. Brunnhilde knew there was no judgement to be found in her face, so she stared back calmly.

“I’m taking you to Quill’s ship. Thanos, in his infinite arrogance, didn’t damage it. Maybe he thought he might like to return to it some time and claim it as part of his fleet. It’s a tribute to how much I continue to feel my father’s influence that I planned to do the same. Not build a fleet, but go back. There’s something about that ship… I find it comforting.”

Brunnhilde frowned thoughtfully.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take it and leave this one for us?”

“No. What I felt when I was onboard, examining it and… and removing Quill’s body for space burial… that was just a feeling of, I don’t know, another life. There’s a group on Earth for whom that ship means something. And it’s the only thing they have of him. I couldn’t keep it.”

“One of those people is your sister,” Brunnhilde said carefully.

“Yes.”

“I tried to talk to her, but she doesn’t like me very much. I don’t blame her,” she added as Gamora gave her a wary look. “She was upset.”

“Nebula is at her most dangerous when upset, and she’s always upset, so she’s always dangerous.”

“She was upset about Peter’s death. But I think also because, without him, no one was out here looking for you.”

Gamora stiffened.

“If she really wants to find me, she can come look for me herself. I’ll be ready.”

“She doesn’t want to fight you,” Brunnhilde said. “She misses you. I think. It’s really none of my business.”

“Why would you wish to get involved in our family affairs?” Gamora’s voice was more curious than accusing. “Besides murdering our father, of course.”

Brunnhilde sighed before answering.

“I’ve lost many people I cared about. I don’t have a family anymore.” She glanced over to see Carol and Peggy bent over a screen together, Carol’s sudden snort infecting Peggy until they were both laughing. “I mean,” Brunnhilde corrected herself, “I didn’t.”

When they arrived at the Benatar and Gamora transported Carol and Peggy off her ship, Brunnhilde motioned for Gamora to hold off a moment on removing her.

“If we don’t meet again,” she said, sticking out her arm for Gamora to grasp.

Gamora gripped her tightly and nodded.

“I think we might though. I thought about it and realized it’s easier for me to find Nebula than for her to find me.”

“I may have left you her coordinates.” Brunnhilde released Gamora’s arm. “Enjoy Missouri.”

She joined Peggy and Carol on the Benatar, pausing to bend over Carol’s seat to surprise her with a deep kiss before she took up her own position. She brushed stray strands of hair back out of Carol’s dancing eyes.

“I’m going to have to redo your braid,” Brunnhilde told her.

“Oh, we’ll have time. We’ve got quite a road trip ahead of us. Luckily… Peter left us his tunes.” Beaming, she started up a song with a bright beat.

Brunnhilde smiled and went to her seat, fastening herself in as Carol readied the vessel for launch.

“You know,” Peggy said thoughtfully, slinging her jacket over the back of her chosen seat, “before all of this, I was actually quite afraid of outer space.”

Carol laughed.

“I can’t imagine why.”

[restlessfandoming]

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 5) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]

hey all so sorry for the delay—i was playing through dragonspine and got busy with the holiday season too ;__;

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link]

the president and the troublemaker (part 5)

“You sure you got proper training?” Childe asked Lumine as he circled her, noting her various fighting forms. 

“I got training,” Lumine said, her muscles feeling shaky after holding her form for so long. “Proper might be stretching it.”

Childe raised a brow, and Lumine sighed, relaxing her body. “Classes are expensive,” she explained. “Even if I wanted proper training, I wouldn’t have been able to pay for it.” 

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m teaching you for free,” Childe said. “Out of the goodness of my heart.” 

“Thank you, O Kind One,” Lumine said sarcastically. “Proper training didn’t even matter in Kaeya’s arena. It was kind of just like a free for all.” 

“That won’t pass here. The fighters here aren’t just some thugs off the streets; these people have had that proper training, and are going to quickly outclass you if you don’t get that training in as well.” 

“I thought you and Kaeya both said I was good at this?”

“Talent is one thing, but it will only get you so far. You’ve still got to train and hone your skills if you ever want to progress further and better yourself.” 

“You sound so wise.” Lumine tilted her head. “If only you could do this at school too, you’d stop causing so much trouble for me and my student council.” 

Childe shrugged, a smirk on his lips. “Where’s the fun in that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, c’mon. This is the only time where I have to listen to you, so let’s get it over with.”  

With enthusiasm, he walked her through various forms of punches and kicks—foot placements, weight distribution, where to send her strength—and soon enough Lumine was sprawled on the soft gym floor, all of her muscles aching and sweat pooling on her skin. Childe sat a few feet away from her, stretching. 

“You’re not even breaking a sweat,” Lumine said between gasps of breath. 

He smiled. “Been doing this a long time.” 

She sighed. “I can’t wait for my first fight next week.” 

“You’re not nervous at all?”

“Of course not,” Lumine answered with a scoff. “I’ve been waiting for that paycheck for a while now.” 

“How interesting,” Childe said looking around the gym. “Your little Vice President brother not here today?” 

“No, he’s covering some student council work for me while I’m here,” she replied. 

“Oh? Finally delegating your work instead of doing it all yourself?”

“Yup. If there’s anyone I trust to do the work as competently as me, it’s Aether.” 

“You two are really close, then.”

“He’s my twin,” Lumine said. She glanced at Childe who in turn was looking out one of the large windows. She realized she knew nothing about him—except that he liked to stir up trouble wherever he went. “Do you have any siblings?” 

A small smile. “I do. Too many, in fact.” He held up his hand. “Five siblings.”

“Oh god.” Lumine grimaced. “There’s five of you running around out there?” 

He laughed. “C’mon, Pres. I’m not that bad once you get to know me, right?”

“I don’t know you.” 

“You wound me,” he teased. There was a slight pause. Then, “Two older siblings: one brother, one sister. Then three younger ones: two brothers and one sister.” He started counting them off on his hands. “Alexei, Misha, Anthon, Tonia, Teucer.” 

“So you’re the middle child,” Lumine noted. “Is that why you do all this? For attention?” 

“Nope,” he replied, shaking his head. “Haven’t I told you already? This is all for fun.”

“Fun,” she muttered. She was doing what she had to for her family; would it be so horrible to enjoy it along the way? Childe seemed perfectly happy where he was. Could she ever be the same way? How does he do it?

“Trying to figure me out, Pres?” Childe smirked. “I’m flattered.” 

She looked at him, at his glinting blue eyes, and rugged orange hair—scars running up and down his arms and legs. 

Don’t get too involved with him. Aether’s words rang out in her mind. 

“Absolutely not,” she said, quickly getting up off the floor. “Well, I think we should call it a day. Thanks for the training today.” 

As she was leaving the gym, she couldn’t help but feel like she was disappointing Aether somehow. 

But it was natural right? Childe was going to be coaching her for the foreseeable future, and they were bound to get closer. It didn’t mean she was going to become involved with whatever delinquent activities he was doing. She was just learning from him. 

She clenched her fist. Just...learning....

* * * 

The student council room was abuzz as the members rushed around, finishing their end-of-month reports: budgets, expenses, cataloguing—anything and everything that needed to be tracked. 

Soon enough, the room was flooded with the orange hues of the sunset, and the council treasurer, a soft-spoken student named Noelle, timidly walked up to Lumine’s desk. 

“Madame President?” she asked. “Some of the members were wondering if we could go home soon?” 

Lumine blinked. “Is all your work done?”

“Ah, n-no,” Noelle responded. She clasped her two hands together. “W-we just wanted to get home before it got too dark.” 

Amber came up beside Noelle, a worried expression on her face. “Yes, there have been reports of some creeps targeting high school girls and assaulting them at night.” She pursed her lips. “I know there’s still a lot of work to be done, but I think it’s safest if all of us leave earlier than usual.” 

Bennett stood up, thumb pointing to his chest. “No worries! Me and Xiao will do our best to protect you ladies! Right, Xiao?”

The council historian, Xiao, glanced up from his own paperwork. “Yes,” he agreed simply in his usual monotonous voice. 

“Hey, where’s Aether anyways?” Bennett asked Lumine. 

“He got called into work right after school today,” she told him. She looked at Amber and Noelle. “I agree, it would probably be safest if we all leave now.” Then, she pursed her lips. “But, like you said, there still is a lot of work to be done, and the deadline is the day after tomorrow…” 

“We can try finishing it all tomorrow then!” Amber suggested enthusiastically. 

Lumine shook her head. “It’s too much, even if we tried finishing it all tomorrow.” She stood up. “Okay, everyone is dismissed. I will stay behind and complete some things to make sure we can finish by tomorrow.”

“B-but, Madame President! What about you?” Noelle protested. 

“Don’t worry about me. My priority as your President is to make sure you all are taken care of.” Lumine gave them a small smile. “If I can’t protect you guys, and step up when you all need me, what kind of President would I be?” 

“I’ll stay behind to protect you!” Bennett offered. 

Lumine laughed. “Thank you, Bennett, really. But I need you and Xiao to make sure these ladies get home safe, okay?” 

Her council was all looking at her, expressions worn with worry. 

“I promise you, I will be okay.” Lumine walked to the door, gesturing out of it. “Now please: your President is ordering you all to go home.” 

After much reluctance, all the student council members were on their way: Bennett walking Amber home and Xiao walking Noelle home. 

Eventually, as the sky turned darker and darker, Lumine finished up enough work to ensure that her council could finish by their deadline. 

She walked through the school gates as the last of the sunlight was dipping below the horizon, and a little inkling of worry bubbled in her gut.

She shook her head. I’ll be fine, she thought, shaking out her hands to loosen them up—just in case she needed to throw out a few punches later. 

Walking a bit further, she mentally ran through all the forms Childe had taught her yesterday. For this kick, I need my right foot forward, then my arms need to be—

A hand clamped over her mouth from behind. 

An arm wrapped around her waist, trapping her own arms to her sides. 

Shit! Is this the attacker they were talking about earlier?!

She clenched her jaw. I’ll stop you right now, you creep!

Lumine brought her foot up, and slammed down on her attacker’s foot with all her force. They stumbled a bit, loosening their grip on her, which gave her the perfect opportunity to break out of their grasp, elbowing them in the gut. She heard them fall on the ground behind her. She spun around, raising her fists, ready to strike—

“Childe?”

The tall ginger let out a sheepish laugh while holding his side. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Lumine blurted. 

He slowly stood. “Playing stalker, I guess.” He rubbed his side. “God, your elbow is strong.”

She clenched her fists. “Anyone else would report you to the cops right away.” 

“You need to be more aware of your surroundings,” Childe said, ignoring her comments. “Haven’t you heard the news recently?”

Lumine threw him a glare. “I have heard about it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that attacker is you.” 

“Just keeping you on your toes, Pres.” He smiled, but something about it was...off. A little more strained than usual. 

“A simple warning would have been fine,” Lumine said. “I could have seriously injured you.” 

“Ah, but you didn’t,” he retorted. “If I was actually the attacker, you would have been knocked out by now.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Let me walk you home.” 

Lumine gripped the strap of her school bag, walking away. “No thank you. Especially not after what you just did.”

“Lumine, wait—”

She stopped in place. He hadn’t ever said her name before, she realized, and her heart fluttered at how it sounded coming from him. Too close for comfort.

“Don’t you dare follow me,” she said through gritted teeth, continuing to walk home. 

After a bit, she glanced back, and Childe was still standing there, hands in his pockets, looking back behind at the school. 

Lumine trusted her brother more than anyone in the world. She knew he wanted the best for her, and she knew the best thing would be to do what Aether said: don’t get involved with Childe.

Then...why did it hurt to push him away?

* * * 

The next day, the student council was again in a hurry to get their work done on time, before the sun set. After stacking piles upon piles of papers on Lumine’s desk, the council collectively let out a sigh when the last stack was put down. 

“Aether isn’t here again?” Xiao asked. 

“Someone at his store quit suddenly, so he’s been called in to cover their shifts for now,” Lumine explained. “He sends his apologies.”

“Well, let’s get out of here quickly,” Amber said. 

Soon the council was walking through the hallways, towards the entrance, ready to part ways.

“Amber and I have to rush to the store before they close,” Bennett said, him and Amber already running down the halls. “We gotta get some supplies for our Outdoors Club!”

“Bye! Thank you for your work!” Lumine called after them. She turned to Noelle and Xiao. “Are you good to walk Noelle home, Xiao?” 

Xiao nodded. “What about you, Madame President?”

“Hey, I survived last night,” she said. “I’ll survive tonight as well. Plus, I have to help lock up anyways.” 

The boy frowned slightly. “If you insist.” 

“I do insist,” Lumine said quickly. “Thank you both for your work also. Get home safe, okay?”

“Thank you, Madame President,” Noelle responded softly. 

Xiao and Noelle walked away, and Lumine started to make her way around the school, locking up all the entrances. She had been such a stellar president that all the administration trusted her with this task if she and her council had to stay late into the evening. 

As she locked the last entrance, she heard footsteps behind her. 

She turned quickly, eyes scanning the entire hallway. 

But there was nothing there. The hall was empty, and it was silent. 

She let out an exasperated sigh. Maybe she was overworking herself again and her brain was playing tricks on her. She made her way towards the front gates. 

BZZZT!

The lights above her flickered then went out, plunging her into darkness. 

What?

“Don’t move,” a voice said behind her. 

“If you listen to us, we won’t hurt you,” a second voice added. 

Something plastic pressed into her back, and she recognized it as a taser. Then, someone started to wrap her arms in duct tape. They put a piece of tape across her mouth. 

They walked around her, looking down at her. One of the men was short and stocky, wearing glasses, while the other man was tall and thin, glassesless. 

“We’ve been watching you for a while, Lumine,” Glasses said. “And we’ve really gotten to know you. We know you’re such a good student council president.”

“Yes, so diligent and selfless,” No Glasses added. “Just relax, okay? We’ll show you a good time as your reward.” 

As they rambled, Lumine’s mind ran through all the possibilities of how to absolutely pummel them. 

The only thing stopping her was the taser, currently in Glasses’ hand; she couldn’t be hit by that, otherwise she was done for. 

She knew what to do. Now to just wait for the right moment. 

* * *

She’s taking longer than usual, Childe thought, leaning against the wall of the school building. A while had passed since he had seen the rest of her student council leave, which meant she was all alone now. 

Sure, she was going to be mad at him for coming here again, but he needed to. His thoughts wouldn’t settle unless he saw her get home safe. 

He knew she was more than capable on her own. She wasn’t weak. 

But she was human. And there are some bad people in the world, ready to do anything to hurt you, Lumine. 

He sighed, starting to walk away. Maybe she already left and I just missed it…

“Lumine.”

Childe froze. His head snapped to the door, eyes wide. He had barely heard it, but someone had said her name. Inside the school. 

He didn’t move a muscle, straining to hear more. 

“...so diligent…” another voice spoke. 

Two. There were two attackers.

Feeling the muscles in his body ignite, Childe quickly moved to the nearest window. 

An icy dagger ripped into his heart. 

Kneeling on the ground was Lumine, her arms bound, her mouth sealed, and two men were standing before her, one wielding a taser. The two men started walking towards her.

Childe’s face twitched, like he was subconsciously suppressing a snarl. 

He stepped back, winding his body up, ready to kick through the window and go flying in. 

Just as his foot shattered the glass, Lumine stood up, ripping through her bindings. 

…

Huh?

* * * 

Glasses and his friend started walking towards her, practically drooling. 

Now!

Lumine stood up, pulling her arms apart, and breaking through the duct tape bindings. She ripped the duct tape off her mouth.

“You know me?” Lumine shouted as the two men watched her with wide eyes. “You don’t know a single thing about me.”

Using their shock to her advantage, she kicked the taser out of Glasses’ hand, then grabbed him by his collar, easily throwing him over her shoulder. She turned her attention to No Glasses, who was still frozen in shock. She easily swung her fist at his face, and he passed out on the floor next to Glasses. 

Standing over their bodies, breathing heavily, a loud burst of laughter sounded behind her. Leaping back, ready to strike another attacker, she stopped when she saw who it was.

“Childe?!” she cried between heavy breaths. 

Childe continued laughing hysterically, then wiped at the corners of his eyes. “Just...wow,” he managed to get out. 

Lumine looked past him. Her jaw dropped. “Th-the window!”

Childe blinked, then looked behind him. “Oh. About that…”

* * *

After giving their reports to the police, Childe and Lumine stood side by side as the police car drove away, the two perpetrators locked away in the back of the cruiser. 

“You’re really going to pay for the window?” Lumine asked, breaking the silence. 

“Of course. I broke it.”

“It’s going to be expensive.” 

He shrugged. “A small price to pay.”

Lumine bit her lip. 

He came to my rescue. Again. She looked at the shattered glass on the floor. He was really ready to save me.

All she had done was push him away. And yet, here he was, by her side, coming to her rescue again. 

“Thank you,” Lumine said softly. 

Childe looked at her, his eyes slightly widened. Then a smile, just as soft. “Anytime.”

She returned the smile, and it felt okay. It felt right. 

Maybe Aether was wrong. Afterall, he wasn’t the one spending time with Childe and learning more about him. How Childe could be caring and selfless and so patient with her.

Yes. Aether, I think…

...I think you may be wrong about Childe.

* * *

[part 6]

[ktheist]

04 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 2.9k

➙ warnings. angst

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ warnings. explicit content. smut. 

➙ synopsis. 

“you wanna say goodbye?”

“yes, i would love to say goodbye.”

x

one second, you’re exiled from taehyung’s room and the next, you’re under lockdown in the same exact room you were forbidden to enter. 

the boy who always made a fuss about cleaning up - cleans up his mess without a single complaint. you thought he’d come knocking on the (his) door and ask for your help but after an hour of twiddling your thumbs and swaying your feet in the air, kim taehyung finally walks in with beads of sweat on his forehead and that ugly stain of a vomit on  his shirt.

he pulls it over his head and tosses it into the laundry before pulling a fresh mickey mouse printed shirt and slips into bed. the temptation to text jeongguk or hoseok or jimin to pick you up has never been stronger but you bite the inside of your cheek, lay out the futon and turn off the lights.

“good night, tae.” you say into the darkness, not expecting for an answer.

“why did you do it?” the darkness whispers back.

“it just happened,” you know better than to offer half-baked excuses for something you completely intended and would even pursue if you didn’t get caught in the middle.

when silence lapses into the room, you thought the matter done and buried six feet under you and taehyung’s conscience. 

not the first time you’ve been wrong.

“why seokjin? why not me?” his lips brush yours, tasting like heartbreak and missing the part where he’s supposed to be drunk and out of his mind for even daring to get so close to you.

to let his hair brush against your forehead. to let his hand snake down your thigh with feather light touches until he’s an inch away from grabbing your ass. if he dared try, your kick wouldn’t be aimed at the air to which he moves it away and places that hand next to your head, boxing you under him completely.

“ew, what the fuck?” and despite the trapped-between-a-rock-and-a-hard-place situation, you manage to lean as far away as you can. or so you’d like to think, but you can still feel his breath fanning your neck.

you wish you have an owl’s ability to twist its neck all the way to the back.

“you’re my best friend, taehyung! get off!” you feel like a child hitting her father with her tiny little fist. taehyung doesn’t even flinch when it hits his chest.

but he pulls away anyway, standing on his knees over you within a lull in time before he falls back on his butt in the space between your parted calves. the wrist of his hand that’s propped against the floor brushes against the side of your foot.

“do you get it now? we grew up together,” his voice echoes into the dark, “my brothers are your brothers- that- what you did- that was messed up, ___.”

“so? was creeping up on me like that necessary?” you retort,  pushing yourself up and hearing the thud pillow you vehemently hurled at the silhouette of the man hunched over a couple feet away from you, “you perv!”

“how much do you like seokjin?” he asks, trapping the pillow in his lap, under his elbow, but before you can even say anything, he shoots you another string of question, “do you even like him?”

“stop making it sound like i’m the bad guy,” you huff, “as if your brother’s such a saint. he wanted it just as much.”

“i don’t care who wants it more, fuck’s sake,” he says roughly, “all your past relationships have only been sexual.”

holding up one hand, you find your shadow cloaked fingers much more nails, “your point being?”

“don’t you stop to think about how much things’ll change? how awkward it’ll be at family dinners once you finally got tired of each other? how awkward it’ll be for me?” 

“oh, because everything’s about you, isn’t it?” you roll your eyes yet your stomach churns.

only silence hangs over the darkness as your teeth sink into the soft flesh of your bottom lip. taehyung pushes himself out and marches out of the room whilst you stay rooted in your spot, curled into a ball with your legs against your chest.

when morning comes, you’re awaken to the sound of taehyung padding around with a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping off his hair and trickling down his chest, “there’s no one if the bathroom, if you wanna wash up.”

it’s the only exchange you have in the morning and throughout the drive to your uni until taehyung parks the car in the spot somewhere near your faculty.

“i thought about it,” you finally say, breaking the silence. the way he turns to you in your periphery makes you want to shrink into the seat and crawl away like an ant but you shrug instead, “what you said last night - i thought about it... you’re right, you guys are the closest family i have here. and i don’t wanna ruin that just cause i can’t keep it in my pants.”

the soft hum of the music fills the space between you, making the unspoken truth a bit more bearable than a pin-drop silence. taehyung’s hair sways for the briefest moment as he arches his brows in contemplation before unsmiling lips curl into that signature box smile, “really?”

“yes, really,” you roll your eyes, “one dick wasn’t worth losing my best friend over.”

“i’d hug you but i’m still having withdrawals from what i saw last night,” tahyung’s face scrunches in disgust.

“oh so that’s what it takes to get your sleazy hands off me. by the way seokjin-” trickles of laughter escapes your mouth as you hop out of his car, managing to avoid his swatting hand just in time, “bye! thanks for the ride!”

x

the mindless banters between you and taehyung never cease, if anything, it goes from playing rock-paper-scissors to decide where to eat to googling up and showing each other pictures of poisonous shrooms in case you get lost in the woods for more than 36 hours.

you used to have lunch together every other day, but taehyung comes to you for a continuous three day, hitting four days streak in between classes this week. each time bearing that boyish grin that could fool just about anyone when it comes to picked-up pieces of a broken heart.

“she texted me,” he shrugs, twirling his chopsticks in the bowl of cold noodles and letting the silence hang stale without any hint of providing more information until you nudge it out of him.

“i didn’t text back.” he says it as if it’s the easiest thing to do.

“it’s so easy for you boys, huh?” you don’t know where in the deities greenland he got the narrowing of your eyes and the scrunching of your nose as-

“seokjin didn’t text you?” the titled smile of his tempts you to smack it off his face right that instance.

“how- wha- that literally has nothing to do with your bitch ass ex-girlfriend who were talking about though?” kim taehyung doesn’t offer any response, only the sway of his shoulders as he laughs before digging into the sweet, savory noodles in front of him.

it’s only after you’ve returned to your faculty, fast-walking towards your lecture, that you find out the subject matter himself sitting hunched over on one of the benches laid out along the roofless pathway that leads to your faculty. the jaws of the girls and gays that happen to be standing a few feet away, drops at the way seokjin looks up, eyes squinting at the sudden intrusion of the sunlight before his lips curl into a smile.

“hey,” there’s that smile you miss so bad.

x

it turns out seokjin’s little shit of a brother and your ass of a best friend snuck into his room, flashed a light over his face, bypassed his phone’s lock and deleted your number, blocked you on snapchat and unfollowed you on instagram.

“and here i thought you were done with me,” your jaw would have hung loose if you don’t have the tip of your venti mocha swirl keeping your lips together as you stare at the pavement, walking aimlessly with seokjin down the path of rose beds.

“i took the day off, decided to try my luck, and hope you’d see me at waiting for you awkwardly - everyone probably thinks ‘who the hell is this old ass guy hanging around-’“ his words get cut off by your gasp as you feel your face hurting from the way your lips are almost reaching your ears.

“you did?” shoulders sagging, you press a hand to your chest where you heart flutters with a sort of warmth, “for me?” before holding your arms out in an invitation for a hug and retracting them not even a second later, “no wait- i promised tae i wouldn’t do this.”

somewhere along the lines, you find yourself at the sky rose garden because the pathway you found him at, all of a sudden, becomes a runway for the girls and gays. they pass you in a guise of walking by whilst their eyes linger on his broad chest and pants that hug his thighs and the protrusion of his natural size that wasn’t going to get smaller than that.

“what he doesn’t know won’t kill him- or us,” there it is again, the melodic hymn of a chuckle as he opens his arms for you, the action ever so natural, as if he’s done this a couple of million times.

and just like that, you fall into his embrace, cheek mushing against his chest as you inhale the familiar scent of mint seaside and the faintest scent of woody earth. you find it unfair that his heart beats steadily whilst yours thrash in your chest. maybe that’s the cause of your cheeks heating up.

“i can do it, you know?” his voice vibrates against your ears in a honeyed tingles, “i can use my ‘big bro influence’ and get him off our backs.”

you lift your head, breath stuttering at the sight of star glinted eyes gazing down at you with the gentles smiles, “should you?” but you shake your head a second later, “no, he’d hate me forever - he’ll know i put you up to this because you’re too nice. you’d ne-”

a finger under your chin and a tilt of your head and you’re lost in an ocean of galaxy, “i brought up the idea, if anyone’s gonna get in hot water, it’s gonna be me.”

“that’s not what taehyung’s gonna think,” the recollection of your conversation with the aforementioned man floods your mind and almost as if an invisible current wraps around your body, you find yourself  taking a step back in surrender.

“and he’s right, seokjin,” the way his eyes flash with a sort of emotion - one that you can’t pinpoint, let alone interpret the meaning of - doesn’t go unnoticed by you yet you go on, “this has to stop. once the passion simmers down and we get bored of each other, what do you think is gonna happen?”

but the words that hits the air is like frostbites to your warm, beating heart, “you already have it in your mind that we’re gonna break up.”

it takes you a second to clear your throat, another to gather your thoughts, “relationships like ours always end with a break up.”

galaxies are littered with illuminating stars but you’re a fool to have turned a blind eye to its dark side. and seokjin’s stars have dimmed, leaving only a trail of shadow in those clouded eyes.

but the half-hearted smile that curls on his lips appears like a ray of sunlight on a cloudy day, “do you wanna at least goodbye?”

your eyes follow his that trail down to the noticeable bulge in his pants.

“yes,” you beam, “i would love to say goodbye.”

x

the cars and the scenic view of the highway pass by in a blur, not that you’re in a position to stare out the window like a heartbroken woman whose fiancee set out for way.

“slow down,” there’s a desperate plea in his voice, “i don’t want to cum too early.”

the stern, warning look he shoots you is makes you giggle. what with his flushed face and twitching self in your hand.

how adorable.

“but you taste so good, jinnie,” your tongue sweeps past your lips, licking the pre-cum off his oozing tip.

“keep teasing me like that if you want me to pull up and fuck you on the side of the road,” the threat on his tongue sends tingles down your spine.

eyes glinting, you can basically hear the blatant disregard in his voice when he first asked if you’d climb up in his lap while he was hitting the back of your throat after you’d quickly scurried into his car for the last goodbye.

so you take it slow, licking him down his length as his hand settle on your head, caressing your hair.

the door closes behind you as seokjin pushes you against it, his hand on your cheek as he crashes his lips against yours and your hand reaching under his boxers. it looked almost painful as he zipped up his pants before getting out of the car and walking the distance between the parking spot and the apartment.

you distinctly remember the sight of a blanket on the couch and an opened laptop on the coffee table, the red of the cans of energy drinks laying around on the ground and surface of said coffee table - they only ever try to clean up when they know you’re coming for your weekly stay over.

but who are you to judge when your clothes soon join the cans on the floor, forming trails down the hallway.

by the time your body lightly bounces on top of seokjin’s bed, you feel the cold air brush against your skin whilst he stands over you like a beast drinking in the sight of the prey he’ll devour. but you don’t mind if that allows you to admire the beautiful landscape of tight abs and powerful physique.

a sort of dread washes over you at the thought of such length coming close to the apex of your legs. taking him in your mouth was doable but only because you’ve had enough practice to know how to adapt to certain lengths by steadying your breath. but you’ve had enough experience to know you wouldn’t just be able to get use to his size right off the bat.

and he’s the biggest you’ve ever met.

your hand runs over the ridges of his muscles biceps before they twine together over the nape of his neck. it must have been the way you look at him, the yearning that pours through gaze and beckons him like a siren’s song. 

the spot of the bed a few inches from your head dips as he props himself on his forearms, lips marking your skin as his.

“seokjin- ah!” you should already used to the bold caress of his tongue around your nipple.

your control is devastated, your thighs are quivering and seokjin’s touches have enthralled you in a fierce flare of yearning. 

“ah,” you breathe out, gaze unfocusing as pleasure and discomfort flood from your core while he deliberately stretches you out.

his hand returns to the side of your face as he stays inside you, lets you feel him, take him for what he is whilst he kisses your cheekbone, your jawline and burry his face in your neck. 

your breath stutters as you feel him slide out of you, heart beat stammering for the briefest moment when his tip kisses your entrance before he pushes himself in deeper than before.

but you know you haven’t taken all of him in.

not yet.

“you’re stretching me out so good,” you say barely above whisper.

“not even half is in, baby,” is all he says before you feel the muscles in his back flexing as he shifts most of his weight onto his hands, thrusting deeper into you.

“fuck,” you moan, the discomfort fading away as pleasure surge through your body in waves as your arms wrap around seokjin’s neck, face buried in his shoulder until you don’t know where he starts and where he ends.

lost in wicked delight, your fuzzed mind barely registers the sound of your phone despite its blares a few inches above your head where you remember tossing to before slipping out of your jeans and succumbing to the reckless savage lust that neither you nor seokjin should speak about to a single soul.

“pick it up,” the man’s husked voice drums in your ear clearer only because of the cease of ripples of pleasures as he stills.

“wha-” you don’t say much, groping around for your phone before shooting him a pleading look of ‘can’t this wait till after you give me the greatest orgasm of my lifetime?’

“it’s taehyung,” the name that spills out of your mouth strikes guilt into your beating heart.

“hm? you’re tightening up. is it because of my little brother?” the surge of possession in his voice tempers with your sanity, it drips like sweet honey rose and mars your skin with its thorns, “answer the call.”

x

note. ooof ig yall know what next chapter’s gonna be. maybe.

taglist. @aretha170 @scalubera @ambersaesthetics​ @heyjiminnie​ @hyuck-me​ @fanfuckingfic​