#so!!!!!!!! can my body maybe calm the fuck down?? its not that fucking DEEP bro

[transsexula]

Does anyone have an explanation for that very specific thingling feeling you get in your wrists/palms/spreading thru ur chest/in your throat when you get upset?

Like. Sometimes someone will say something that really shouldn't upset me as much as it does, but it may press a Trauma Button™️ inside you and now it feels like all the nerves in those places are on fire?

Just me?

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: But I already have love in LA

A/n: 5,692 milli is the distance between calm nighttime Paris and sweltering Los Angeles, which almost makes Eilish howl like a wolf. A Paris promo in honor of the album mercilessly separates the two of you on an important date, but you find a way out.

Billie's point of view. 'Cause I like it.

"The person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable, please call back later," is the peremptory verdict unchanged over these endless eight hours, echoing coldly from a woman's voice on the other side of the handset. Not the voice I want to hear so much, not the timbre that makes my heart flutter so incredibly, as if it were your most expensive wind-up toy. Not your voice, absolutely not. You don't get in touch for such an ungodly long time, and I just diligently shut up the feeling of anxiety devouring from within throughout the day: a dark woolly monster grins hungrily with its wide mouth, loudly clicking its massive, fanged jaw. Each click is a new, painstakingly detailed picture in my head, causing hot anxiety. What if you're really lying helplessly on the hot as hell asphalt of LA, caught under the spiked wheels that tried to slow down with a soul-shattering screech? I know how hurried you are. What if you turned into a disadvantaged area, taking a shortcut, and now your lifeless body is lying in the nearest ditch, turning paler and colder by the minute? What if you just stopped breathing in your sleep for no reason?...

I take a deep breath, and the chains behind the monster immediately tighten with the deafening clang of massive links: it leaps, wanting to grab at me with its clawed paws, to pull me into the viscous pools of panic, but it still can't reach me. With a menacing guttural growl, its fangs gleam faintly in the semi-darkness, covered in viscous saliva. It's actually easier to contain my anxiety when my head is full of thoughts about the shoot, about the phrases I have to elegantly slip into the interviewers, turning their question marks into confident dots. It's easier when you're surrounded by a horde of people: security, staff, family. But when I'm in the silence of an insanely expensive French hotel, drowning in the uncompromising gloss of the surroundings, still perfectly styled and dressed in expensive dark clothes, coming straight from the shoot, nervous and clutching my phone in my hands with hope - it all becomes so impossible.

I'm dialing twelve digits again, just a little more and I'll be able to dial your number blind. "The person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable, please call back later." I lean back noisily on the cold silk of the sheets while that toothy, infinitely dark ball of anxiety laughs snidely. I check all the messengers, only to fling my phone away in a brief flash of anger somewhere upward, toward the ruched beige pillows: you still haven't been online in eleven hours, my messages unanswered. Fuck! It's becoming more and more like Jenga, where with each passing hour I take one wooden brick out of the structure and put it on top, making it even more rickety than before. Indeed, something has definitely happened, you couldn't just disappear from everyone's radar for no good reason, especially when today is our little celebration of a month-long relationship. There's five thousand six hundred and ninety-two miles between us, and the silence on the wire makes me want to howl. God, I'm going to go crazy...

Beep! It sounded like someone had thrown a grenade with the pin pulled right under the bed. I reacted immediately, but on the desplay is just a message from Fin in an endless string of unnecessary things. Well, better than nothing. Better than drowning in madness alone.

"Are you asleep?"

"No." How the fuck can I, bro?

"She still hasn't responded?"

"No."

The three dots bounce around again as my brother puts the right letters into words. Maybe I should call you again.

"Can you open the hotel room door right now?"

The restless gears in my head rumble to a grinding halt. Now? For what?

"For what?"

"Just open it, sis." - so unobtrusive and unexplanatory, followed by another gray block of letters: "You'll thank me later :)"

"Don't smile at me."

":)" - naturally, a smile. Damn Finn.

I dial you again and reluctantly get out of bed, shuffling my feet as if I were going to the lacquered scaffold under the shouts and whistles of the French Revolution crowd, but in fact only the thin tulle is swaying in the night wind, and the noise of rare cars, which enters the room so valiantly with the help of the open balcony. And here is the guillotine itself in the form of an oak door. I touch the gilded cold handle with the palm of my hand with pressure, and feel the massive blade whistling as it flies straight at my neck, severing my head. You're standing in front of me.

You look me in the eye and leisurely take the phone out of the pocket of your wide bard palazzo pants. Your accurate fingers finally touch the ill-fated green answer button before you bring the display to your ear. There's a slight, confused smirk on your lips, and on my end of the line there's finally the beeps and this mechanical female voice have finally died down. But it is still impossible to answer you, I can only stare at you in disbelief, as if you were a masterpiece that had escaped from the Louvre and had personally come to my doorstep.

"Bonsoir, Madame Eilish," your soft, purring timbre mightily shatters all anxiety, defeating the monster in my head. The only thing left were the massive chains of patience and self-control that held it back. You say what I've been longing to hear for these fucking eleven hours. You sound the way you've imprinted on my memory for the many hours we've spent together. - "A special gift exclusively for number one hundred and eleven."

I grab you into my hage, pulling you into the room in a flash. The door slams too loudly for midnight, but I don't care, you gasp, rustling a small package - I don't care, you babbling a hundred apologies for this frightening silence - I also don't care, girl. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care! I just leave a lot of barely visible lip gloss prints on your face, showering you with hot kisses, clinging to your lips with mutual hunger, making you almost choke, but I don't care! You don't pull away, just squeeze tighter, sliding down the wall a little. You're here right now, and the rest of it doesn't matter. And how can I take offense at you, when you have overcome five thousand six hundred and ninety-two miles...? At least not right now.

We calm down only when we reach the floor and settle down on the soft pile of the carpet. Your face now gleams beautifully in the warm light of the bedside lamp, your hair slightly ruffled either from my hands or the wind outside.

"I'm sorry." - You gulp in air with your mouth and repeat again, touching my cheek gently as if I were fragile Chinese porcelain.

"I almost lost my mind, Y/n." - I snuggle closer into your palm, finding the needed reassurance finally. - "But I'm so glad you're here now, my dumbass."

You chuckle lightly before rising to your feet in one merged motion, then gallantly offering your hand to me. My gaze first clings to the not-so-little bard stain spilling over the once flawless whiteness of your favorite shirt.

"What's this?"

"It's wine," you answer innocently as we walk to the back of the room, me holding your hand and intertwining our fingers, you holding the paper bag in front of you in your free left. - "I thought it unseemly to show up on a deep Parisian night and on our little holiday without a present. While we were choosing a variety with a nice elderly sommelier, he accidentally spilled some on me, for which he apologized for an extremely long time and stuffed a whole assortment of vegan sweets into the gift."

"Actually, it looks pretty good," I touch my hands to the damaged fabric where the wine petals had opened exactly opposite the heart. - "It looks like a flower, and it goes well with the pants."

"I told him the same thing, only in broken French!" - you laugh, sitting down on the bed. The package drops to the floor for nothing, revealing a dark bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, a corkscrew, and a dark blue box of obviously not cheap candy. - "Got a cup of any kind?"

"Only if it's cup after some coffee," the porcelain taps lightly as I hand you the cup along with the saucer that was on the bedside table. Drinking coffee at night is a little professional whim.

The cork easily yields to you under the spiraled steel of the corkscrew, so the generous scarlet stream quickly fills the porcelain cup almost to the brim, cleverly masking the coffee ring, which has already managed to imprint on the white dishes. You carefully pass the cup back to me, giving me the honorable right of the first sip. You already have a chocolate candy hiding behind your cheek. Sweet tooth.

You ask me about the past day, listening with incorruptible interest, you ask about the progress of the promo, about my dreams, I listening about your flight, about our first meeting, about Paris at night. We just talk about everything that comes into our heads, while the candy slowly runs out and the scarlet column of alcohol reaches the glass bottom of the bottle, and the bottle becomes more transparent than before in the weak light.

"You look ravishing, did I mention?" - My throat burns a little with the slight spice mixed with the flavor of currants and cherries, and your careful and transfixed gaze, albeit slightly cloudy from the wine, pleasantly burns my heart. - "Although, you absolutely always have that."

And I see you blush and your lips bend into a pleasant smile. When you're drunk, you're so sweetly embarrassed every time, like the word compliments are received by you, not me. Insanely nice. Insanely beautiful.

"Merci beaucoup, L'amour de ma vie." - in sweet, purring French, because you are a total provocation today, presented so elegantly and unobtrusively that I can't think of anything else. The chiseled collarbones are not only hidden under the thin fabric of the branded shirt, but also topped with a weighty gold chain. I catch myself thinking that you remind me of exactly this wine in the porcelain of the cup, which I want to sip leisurely, enjoying it alone. To taste you on my tongue is much more desirable than that cedar-currant flavor in the cup.

The bottle is almost empty, and you will soon begin to look like this pink wine stain blooming on your shirt. You giggle, shifting your gaze in embarrassment to the rich black lacquered wood that elegantly fills the bedroom space.

"Wow, is that a piano?" - so childishly naive, just to avoid my gaze. Gently I place the cup in your palms and then touch your chin with my fingers, turning you straight toward me. - "it's beautiful."

Along with the alcohol and fever rushing through my arteries, an absurd idea popped into my head, and it was an original sin not to realize it. I lean closer, deliberately slowly, though the knot of heat has tightened quite a bit. I like getting you so hot, Y/n, you'd know.

"It's beautiful, but it's only missing your nakedness," a languid whisper in your ear and you're already burning like a match. It's gorgeous. - "Shall we fix it?"

And you nod so obediently that even an expensive room in the best hotel in France and the same expensive wine are nothing compared to this one gesture. This will be the first time for you, the first time for the two of us, and believe me, I'll do everything I can to make sure that it goes well. I won't disappoint you, because all I really want is to drown you in a sea of pleasure. Think of it as my little gift to honor our date, like this wine.

×××

You moan so sweetly, and the only thing I really want right now is to seal your voice in a bottle so that I can open it later at any opportunity when you're not around again. You rest both palms against the shiny black lacquer on the closed top of the grand piano, standing with your back to the most elegant instrument and your face to me. You're standing completely naked, just a pile of clothes under your feet, and I'm already face between your thighs, kneeling. You grip the fabric of my black cardigan with trembling fingers, and like a whimpering child, you pull it on yourself. And it's so exciting to fulfill your little whims, knowing that it's still going to be the way I want it. I throw the dark, soft cotton off of me - a "storm cloud" glistens and shimmers slightly in the light of one dim lamp before falling to the carpet with the rest of my clothes. I'm completely naked now, too. Your lustful eyes dance on the ink of my tattoos, as if not knowing where to stop.

"Do you like the view too much, my girl?" - a grin, and you look away a little in renewed embarrassment. I touch your beautiful thigh, stroking it. "Hey, I like it when you watch."

And you watch again, only now you're looking clearly into my eyes, looking into the depths of my abysses, which for you alone are ready to serve not as destruction but as an unbreakable refuge. Your gaze is so focused, as if you want to dive in headfirst into my seas.

"I just... I just like absolutely everything, and I really don't know where to stop."

"So look, you can even touch me, as much as you want and wherever you want. You're allowed, Y/n." - I rise from my knees to push the banquette back to the piano again and sit down. - "Just for you."

And you explore, touching my skin with a gentle that the most distinguished musicians of classical orchestras will envy. Your hands outline my hips, my waist. You cling to my ribs with your fingers, then you stroke my shoulders and arms. I see a spark of delight in your eyes when you feel how the muscles are easily felt under the alabaster of my skin, while you reach to the very tips of my fingers, interlacing one hand in a lock with yours. Your other hand touches my chest, alternately slightly squeezing each one, and frankly speaking, it becomes infinitely difficult to breathe evenly. The same your hand slides over the stomach, heading to the bottom with like a sharpened arrow. Oh, my Goodness...

"Does that feel good?" - you whisper, touching two fingers to my clit with light pressure, alternating with circular motions. It feels good. Crazy.

So much so that all the words suddenly disappear from my head and stick in my throat in broken syllables, unwilling to form into something intelligible. I had to make an effort not to just nod like a silly dummy, chiseling out a single: "good."

You smile, feeling a gradual confidence, as if you're finally stepping on solid ground after the weightlessness of space, having been successfully rehabilitated. And I finally realize I don't have to hold back anymore. I can pull you close to me, rewarding you with a dozen deep, hot kisses, I can marked you with a bright hickeys on your neck, I can pick you up under your hips and lay you top of the piano cover with your shoulder blades, under which steel strings are silently stretched. While you're trapped in a haze of excitement, I can trace a path with my tongue and lips from your breasts to the bottom of your belly, where everything is burning Vesuvius flame. I can, I can, I can...

"It's so romantic in Paris, isn't it? Won't even try to compare it, it's all love everywhere." - I make the first quick stroke of my tongue and then pull away, hovering over your face again. You barely keep the back of your head from banging against the wooden lid, arching your back in longing. Who says I forgot to get back at you for my nerves?

"I don't know, I guess, but I already have love in LA." - You exhale so hotly, but you endure stoically. You realize you deserve it, yes. - "And I don't need anyone else."

My own heart begs for mercy on your account with a solid thump against my sternum, and I'm back down in a flash, repeating the strokes again, playing with your folds to the accompaniment of your moans. You're delicious.

And when you thrust yourself on my fingers so obediently, waiting for the denouement, which burns you to the point of shaking, and then you spur me with my back to the lid, hovering over me with intermittent heavy breathing, but with such selfless love in your eyes; when you enter me with two fingers sharply, but so necessary and precise, easily beating out moan after moan from my lungs and ligaments, that I really realize how suitable an instrument like a piano is for you.

I realize that I also definitely already have love in LA, in the form of you.

[2g-1k]

2G1K - Chapter 3 "Panic! At the Cottage"

Aforementioned 2 guys have interactions. Brackets "[]" indicate that bro is speaking another language he doesn't understand. Evans speaks English. Callen does not. Sadly, it would be absurd to write Callen's POV in another language entirely.

Masterpost

The morning daylight spilled from the windows, illuminating the place in a soft, warm glow. Motes of dust drifted lazily in the air, before finally settling down on already dusty surfaces of the little cottage.

One such surface was upon Callen’s body, lying down on the floor a dishevelled mess, covered in sweat, shielding his eyes from the blinding rays of the sun.

It may not be the window’s fault for the sun’s brightness, though all the same Callen still, very badly, wished to throw a rock at the window for letting any light in.

He should probably invest in some curtains, in any case.

Using the wall to support his weight, Callen groggily stood up. A new contender for his daily rock-throwing target has shown up: the Floor. He might as well have slept on a bed of spikes, the way he woke up feeling. He made a mental note to kick the floor later.

With his difficulty in falling asleep, Callen wondered how he was able to sleep on the damn floor of all places, when he barely could in his bed. Maybe yesterday’s fright or something, I guess, Callen thought, and then promptly froze up.

Shit. Shit. How did I fucking forget the shit that happened yesterday. Fuck. What was that big fucking eye at the window.

Conveniently forgetting his muscle aches he raced upstairs to the window in his bedroom and looked outside- nothing was there. The sun continued to shine, the trees swayed in the breeze, and the birds- very noisily- continued to chirp. There was nothing out of the ordinary from what Callen could see, and it relieved him, for the most part, but also, it worried him. He wondered if it was just all some really elaborate hallucination his brain invented, and if so, what caused this? Is he sick? Maybe.

Or… He reasoned with himself, it was just a very vivid dream after a very tiring day. 

Taking one deep breath in an attempt to calm down, he assured himself again that it was just one, terrible, vivid dream. 

Having a suspiciously normal breakfast by the table, the warm sunlight beckoned Callen to go outside. 

So what did Callen do?

He opened the door.

SLAM!

And he shut it immediately.

Callen’s heart was about to jump off his body and fly off into the sun.

“It- It was real. Holy sh-shit.”

The fear that was forgotten yesterday started seeping back inside him, his body, his memories. The knocks on the roof. Callen felt like someone had deprived him of oxygen, breathing, yet a futile effort- no amount of air inhaled helped him feel he was actually breathing.

The large, green eye, staring at him across the window. The chills its piercing gaze brought upon burned itself deep in Callen’s memories, and what he saw resurfaced the suppressed emotions of last night. He felt all warmth seep away from his body, his hands cold, clammy, and covered in sweat.

Hands trembling with residual fear, Callen poured himself a glass of water with much difficulty.

Trembling hands set the empty glass down and clutched Callen’s head instead. Callen, who was trying his best to not lose his consciousness, navigated through his memories and thoughts and primal fear, trying his absolute best to keep a level head. The light from the window dimmed, as if it was making an attempt to calm him down.

There is a- a really huge person- the size of which is so tall that is impossible to guess- sleeping right outside my house.

He took the deepest breath he could muster.

My house can barely reach its knees! He could destroy my house, smash it into bits, kill me in multiple ways- and it will take no effort at all!

The deep breath was not helping him regain his composure.

I am so fucked if I keep staying here until th- that thing wakes up.

Callen could not stay here, he figured. He needed to escape to the nearest town and seek help- though he didn’t know what to do next either way. The large being sleeping outside his house could probably take on an army of soldiers and still stand victorious, no doubt about it.

Barely Religious Callen decided it was a very necessary day to be religious today, and prayed to the gods above to kindly protect him. If I don’t die, he thought, I’ll be religious from now on.

Callen had never been a thief. In spite of that, one might think otherwise: with utmost stealth, he turned the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open while it threatened to creak, followed by quick footsteps that were as loud as a rock on the ground. Sparing a glance at the giant watching him, he scurried away as fast as his legs could run.

Hold up! Callen did a double take.

It was at this moment Callen knew that he was, by all means, fucked.

Sitting among the fields, taller than everything Callen could see, was the currently awake gigantic being that haunted his night, and now his present reality. Backlit by the sunlight, it cast a heavenly glow on the giant being, and for a moment Callen wondered if he was a god. His focus shifted towards the giant’s appearance, noticing his hair, golden as the wheat fields in autumn, reflecting the sun’s equally golden rays. His face, pale and fair- yet glowed in shades of red and pink.

And his eyes- his gaze entirely focused on Callen.

Callen, not willing to stay and hear the verdict of whatever god this giant man could be, bolted as fast as he could, hoping to at least escape the shadow cast by the giant god that loomed over him and his house.

At the edge of his peripheral vision he saw movement, and felt a brief gust of wind rush past him.

Callen ran faster and crashed facefirst into a wall that was soft, leathery…and weirdly cold, for that matter.

The large hand curled around him, and effortlessly picked Callen up as easily as Callen would a paintbrush. On the other hand, Callen struggled and wriggled and kicked and pushed with all his remaining energy, yet nothing posed so much as an inconvenience to the giant.

He simply continued to watch in amazement as he unfurled his hand, revealing a very disoriented Callen.

Callen was at his wits’ end now. At the mercy of the giant with no way of leaving, he could only hope the giant understood him.

“Put. Me. DOWN!”

The hand did not budge. Instead, a gigantic finger intercepted Callen’s line of sight, and invited itself to assault him without even bothering to ask for permission! Callen pushed the finger away, and the giant complied, though the finger returned a moment later to feel his hair. The hopeless struggle between man and finger continued, until Callen, who refused to accept this any longer, finally slapped the finger as hard as he could.

Forcing himself to lock eyes with the giant- or at least one of the eyes- Callen tried to make the angriest expression he could while glaring at the giant, one hand pointing towards the ground, his message clear: PUT ME DOWN.

Inside, Callen feared for his life, scared that he had angered the giant, that he would decide him a nuisance and kill him for it.

So when the only response from the giant was a soft chuckle, he was equal parts relieved and annoyed. I can’t even be taken seriously in this economy for fuck’s sake! Regardless, the giant did set his hand down and Callen scrambled off as fast as he could with his shaky legs- then proceeded to trip on the soft surface of the hand and fell with a splat! onto the grass, earning another laugh from the giant.

The cold, dewy grass of the morning contrasted with Callen’s red hot face burning from embarrassment. 

And he found himself assisted by those damned fingers again, helping him stand upright!

“FUCK YOU!” Callen swatted at the fingers. “I can stand on my own, thank you very much!”

As Callen was about to sprint away at full speed to anywhere that was not the direction of the giant, the finger returned, tapping him on the arm for his attention.

“What the fuck do you want?” Called grumbled, mostly to himself. “No, you are not allowed to assault me.” Turning around to make eye contact again, he noticed the giant looked slightly nervous. What is there to be nervous about when you’re the size of a mountain anyway? “You’re a giant, possibly a god for all I know and care, you don’t need my help.”

[“Do you know where I can find water?”]

“What?”

He watched as the giant mimicked the action of drinking from a cup. You want water? “It’s that way,” Callen replied, pointing north, “there’s a lake beyond the mountains.” He contemplated showing him the way there, but decided it was absolutely ridiculous, and he was supposed to escape in the first place.

Callen began to run away as the giant got up.

[“Thank you!”]

Callen did not look back as he continued to run, and he did not look back when he heard the gradually fading footsteps of the giant. He was still scared, perhaps, but maybe the giant isn’t going to kill him anytime soon.

Either way, it doesn’t matter, because he is not going home tonight.

[soil-just-needs-water-to-be]

Chapter 22

Can’t remember the word count I publish it in Wattpad before noticing

Some smut in this one

This chapter takes place at the same time as George's just from Mattys perspective

Mattys POV

I didn't wake up too much that night, I was calm for once wasn't restless I just slept. I don't really remember what time it was that I went to sleep it wasn't to long after I called Ross though. I woke up to no alarm or Louis this morning though so my mum must have let me lie in. Bless her. I lay there in bed for around ten minutes really just staring at the roof relaxing in the quiet of the house just basking in it. Then I get up to roll a cigarette picking up my lighter from the bed side table then climb up onto my windowsill and smoke out of the window, slowly , watching the busy streets and people pass by, It so interesting watching people going about there normal lives , how many of them could be suffering but still just take the day head on you know. I drag out the cigarette and just enjoy the peace and people watching. When I'm finished is when I decide to see what my friends are up too. I open up Snapchat first off there's a few messages from Ross asking how I'm doing , if I'm going to school , then when he released I wasn't , just one saying he'll drop by later. I then spot a message from George and when I open it my mouth drops and I gasp "fuck me", he's shirtless ,

his hairs down, his arms look strong and his shoulder so broad I can't take my eyes away from my screen I happen to be staring even well after the picture has gone. I shake my head to get myself to concentrate a little I then feel some movement in my lower body and I left up the covers a little and see I have a semi "Wow that's not happened on it's own in a while" , I kind of don't really want to make it go away, it hasn't happened in its own in so long it's a good feeling. No if I talk to George he might be able to help actually might make it better so that's when I actually decide to reply even though it's been sat on opened for like 5 minutes now, I send off a cheeky little message that hopefully he understands that I'm letting him know I might be ready "

“That's not the best way to wake a man up G 🫠😉, I know I said it takes a while to get things going sometimes but stuff like that will surely work" , and really I usually does take so long now a days to get me worked up , I've been with a few girls in the past few months and they've really had to go for it the meds made it really difficult but that fact it's back to "normal" must mean Georgies doing something right. My hand trails down my body and stops at my waist and of my boxers and I'm kinda nervous about it I don't know why. But before I have a second to even do anything a message comes through from George "I hope you liked it" , bro I can guarantee I more than liked it, I want his help to fix it but I know he's on school and it's kinda upsetting BUT maybe messing with him at school might be a little fun and a little risky, I know what this lads like. So I just send another message back just of me in bed  "

More than satisfactory Darling ...but I may have to go sort myself out first before I chat yanno", my hand is now in my boxers and typing with one hand isn't the easiest thing to do but I'm going to do it if I have to. My other hand is just slowly rubbing myself slowly just releasing some pressure it feels good actually. His next snap comes through and he looks looks amazing as always all flustered and cheeks a deep tinge of red and I know he's trying to keep himself composed a little  " This is not the right place Matthew", oh trust me I know it's not but if I can just mess around for a little longer that would be fun. The fact he also called me Matthew in this instant send an jolt of excitement right through me, it makes me shiver a little bit. This time I try another tactic, I pull up the camera and flip it and take my hands from my boxers and pull the duvet down a little as I film it , sending it to him with a smile on my face then I quickly send another quick message after letting him know there's no sound so he's safe to play it but i captioned the video with

" You can't be seriously telling me you don't want to see", No picture message comes from his end this time and it's kinda s sad but all I get is a " Love you know I want too , but I'm in class right now", Fuck me man , I drop my phone on my bed and decide this needs to be taken to the shower because I don't want to make a mess of my bed sheets that's kind of embarrassing.

Once I've taken my boxers off I jump in the shower and let the water run warm the images of the other day came pouring into my head , this is when my hand lands back on my dick and I start to rub myself slowly savouring the moment a little , his little flustered movements trying to keep himself together, my head gets a little faster as I indulge the fantasy a little imagining if he had taken it further on the call this causes me to moan into the empty bathroom echoing through it and it's music to my ears. My brain travels to the images of George being flustered and trying to contain himself while at school trying to hide it from people around him "fuck" , as my hand gets faster I can feel my climax coming but due to the pills having messed everything up it hurts a little i hiss through my teeth as I try to push through it , and my climax comes not to long after. Once I'm done I start to actually wash myself down now. Turn the heat up and just relax in the shower peaceful again.

Once I'm done in the shower I wrap myself in the softest towel I own, No messages yet so I send off another picture to George " it would have been more fun if I had your input darling but Wow , that was very much needed ay", I go about just getting myself dressed for the day once I'm prepared I drop down on my bed again and pull my phone out "Sorry about that , anyway how are you?" , I know I can be alot and if he's not interested in me that could have been a bit much for him.

After sending that, I really want to ride some music so I trundle off to get my guitar and notebook and I get myself busy as I turn flip through my notebook and find lyrics that I'd been writing and there's a lot coming to me right now, bringing me back to that night

"Pause it , play it , pause it , play it , pause it"

"Oh my car smells like chocolate"

There was a lot going on that night, we did a lot of mad shit that night, someone was chasing up, we were height as fuck , and we were just messing us about, we'll I was she was trying to drive.

"Hey now, we're building up speed as we're approaching a hill"

Trying to get a melody to this will be hard but I swear it's going to be done. I get lost in the writing and I got so far George messages me back after a while. "you I'm alright love , my dad was doing my head in this morning so I'm a little iffy but I'm fine , how are you feeling?", Bless , family can be annoying sometimes , a reply doesn't come for a long time, but I'm not going to fuss him too much he's at school I can't expect too much but fuck unless I'm writing my mind will wonder and im getting reckless. We have a small back and forth about how we're doing

He replied a while later but it was just a blank screen saying that's he's proud of me for being okay but I'm more concerned about the blank screen

Is he okay ?

[e-jaegerenthusiast]

lurk~toji fushiguro x reader

(part 2 to u&i bully!megumi)

art by sab_xcvii

I am respectfully looking down. down.

had to down a couple of beers to get through this bro—

all characters are of age.

based on the song ‘lurk’ by the neighbourhood

warnings/tw; smut, cheating?, age gap, rough sex, choking, daddy kink, spitting, size kink, slight dumbificantion, degrading, praise kink, nipple play (both receiving)

summary; what happens when you learn more about megumi? and believe it too.

w.c; 6k

you’d been thinking about megumi all weekend. his face and all the events from the prior day swirling inside your head as you pondered them over and over, trying and hoping to find an apology in midst of all the pants shared between you both. of all the words he said to you.

just a simple apology. an apology to ease your heart, an attempt to clear all the things he put you through. all the times he humiliated you, all the times he embarrassed you and made you feel unimportant, unwanted. that’s all your beating heart wanted from him.

yet he never said those two words. not as he kissed you, not as he led you to the backseat of his charger, not as he slid in your mouth, or not as he fucked into you.

your chest filled with anxiety, he used me. curling up in your comforter as you tried to push away your negative thoughts with the soft music playing in your ears.

that was until your phone gave out a ding. picking it up, the light of it filling your dark, depressing room as you read the text with an unknown contact.

‘hey, bunny’ it read.

you squinted your eyes, where had you heard that nickname before? ah yes. the parking lot. the devil himself.

you groaned, locking your phone and wrapping yourself in your warm duvet again. your phone lit up again with the sound of his text. you blinked a few times as you shook your head and unlocked it again.

‘forgot to tell you’ as you read that, you pressed the contact and saved it as “megs </3��

your heart filled with a sense of hope, the little burnt flame igniting within you again, it died down as soon as it had been planted in you as you read the next text,

‘i got your number from one of your friends’

you sigh, so that’s what he forgot to tell you. not fuckin-

you were brought out of your thoughts as another text popped up

‘hello?’

‘y/n?’

‘did that bitch give me the wrong number?’

you wish you could just type out a lie, saying he got the wrong number, and forget that megumi fushiguro ever existed in your life. sure, maybe it was petty of you to hold a grudge against him for not apologizing even after the sensual acts that took place between you both the day prior. however, it was important to you. you needed to know he actually felt guilty those times. you need to know he felt as shitty as you did on the inside. you needed to know he wasn’t just using you. he technically never said that either, just told you to not say it.

nevertheless, you’re typing away before you can stop yourself. you should have.

‘hey ‘gumi’

‘no you got the right number’

you don’t really know what else to say. waiting patiently as the 3 dots start moving, signaling he’s typing.

‘good.’

‘i’ll pick you up in 30. be ready.’

you glance at the time on your phone, 5:30. you had enough time.

‘okay’

‘see ya cutie’

you get out of your bed quickly. taking a quick shower as the warm water helped you relax. you wear some jean shorts and a tank top with a silver necklace hanging lowly on your neck. you do some light makeup, only a little colorless lipgloss and mascara, as you tie your hair up in a ponytail. a few strands coming loose, not really being bothered to re-do it, you head down the stairs and go outside to sit on the porch, waiting for megumi.

in a couple minutes, his black charger comes to a halt infront of your house, you get up, grabbing your phone and your small purse, sliding it around your neck as you make your way to his car.

he leans to the passenger side and opens the door for you, giving you a smirk as you get in, gaze faltering on your jean shorts as he licks his lips. you give him a small smile, “hi.” your voice is soft as you observe him, the smell of rough lavender fills your nose this time instead of the cedarwood and musk, it seems gone now. his raven hair is damp atop his head, signaling he just came out of the shower.

he leans over and presses a quick kiss to your cheek, his hair brushing your forhead as he pulls away. a blush creeps on to your cheeks, “hey, beautiful.” he smiles as he fixes his gaze on the road and presses the gas pedal.

he puts his hand on your upper thigh, “how are you?” you bite the inside of your cheeks, “fine.” his gaze stops on you for a second before looking back at the road, “you’re lying.” you sigh, trying to come up with an excuse. how could he tell whenever you’re lying? “I uhm.. I just have a bit of a headache.”

he hummed, “if you say so.” he gave you a smile as he squeezed your thigh. you decided to push all your thoughts away for now and only focus on him. you put your hand on his, “where are we going?” he looked at your hand with a smile, “my house.”

your gaze fixed on him, “why not outside?” he looked over to you, “I lost my phone somewhere at the house.. but if you don’t wanna go there I don’t mind. we could just hang outside.” he said with a shrug.

you thought it over for a few seconds, he was offering you a chance to see his house, where he spent most of his childhood in, so if you got the chance to see more of him, you would be a fool to not take it. you gave a soft squeeze to his hand on your thigh, “no, yeah let’s go to your house.”

he smirked as he made a sharp turn into a street, his knuckles flexing on the wheel. this was pretty far from your house, the houses in the neighborhood were all a fair distance away from eachother, each one looking modern and rather large.

he pulled into the parking way of one of the houses, as you looked up from your window, you could see the house was just as big as the others, glass panes covering one whole side of it instead of walls. the parking garage’s door slid up with a press of megumi’s finger on a remote. he parked the car and you both got out. a sudden feeling of anxiety swimming in your chest as you saw the big black ram next to where megumi had parked, was his dad home?

megumi grabbed your hand in his, holding you close and interlocking your fingers as you both made your way up a small flight of stairs. “my dad’s not home, I think he’s at the neighbors’ house, he’s his friend.” you swallowed, your shoulders relaxing as you nodded.

he let go of your hand as he opened a door that led to the huge living room, mostly black and dark grey furniture everywhere, it was calming in a sense. he twirled around with his arms open infront of you, “as you can see the house’s pretty fuckin huge. I hate it— so I’m not gonna give you a tour or anything. but,” you frowned at his words, fidgeting with your fingers. he moved towards you, smiling, “how about you give yourself a tour as you call my phone and try to find it? please? I need it for this one senior assignment I’m getting today.” you nodded slowly as he flashed you a big grin, kissing your cheek before storming off and yelling, “my sister needs my help with something! I’ll be back!”

with that, he left you alone standing in the large empty living room. you sighed, finding his phone seemed to be pretty important to him. you got your phone out of your purse, starting to dial megumi’s number as you wondered around the house. he didn’t seem fond of this house, it was really big though so you thought family members could easily ignore each other for days. that’s probably what megumi would do.

you dialed his number over and over, looking around the vastly sized kitchen, the dining room, and some other rooms downstairs. megumi had left upstairs so you thought that’s probably where the bedrooms are and he had most definitely looked around in there. so you decided to take the stairs that spiraled down instead. 

as you made your way down the stairs, a faint sound of the bass of music hit your ears. you followed it down the narrow hallway that was filled with empty white vases and fake plants. the music was getting too loud for it to be a ringtone. it led you to a big white door, you opened it as you stepped inside.

you were met with an even bigger looking room than any of the ones you had seen on the main floor, mirrors were covering all its walls, the music loud as it blasted through the soundproof ceiling, there were lots of equipment and machines, oh. it was a gym. was it bigger than the living room and kitchen combined? probably.

you dialed megumi’s number again, walking around the gym, staring at everything with wide eyes. how fucking rich were they? their own personal gym right under their penthouse, you scoffed at the excessive wealth they had, or his dad had.

you heard a light vibration, going towards it as you could see a faint light on the ground next to a towel, right under the mirrors on the wall, you bent over to pick it up, megumi’s phone. finally.

as you stood back up, your eyes set on a huge, tall body in the mirror standing behind you, before you could even look up to see who it is, you screamed and turned around, jumping back against the mirror, closing your eyes as you brought your hands in front of you offensively, as if you could do any damage with them.

you slowly opened your eyes as you heard a deep chuckle, toji fushiguro stood infront of you. tight workout shorts sticking to his legs, bringing out his huge thighs, a black tank top sat upon his chest, a slight wet ring formed around the front of it as his body was covered in sweat, glistening.

his body was beyond huge, making you look so insignificant standing before him. he ran a veiny hand through his damp hair, bicep flexing as he did so, “done staring, pretty thing?” your mouth went dry, as if you weren’t practically drooling seconds before.

you could hear your heartbeat in your own ears, you were about to fucking black out. and you didn’t know why, his presence was so intimidating, the smell of cedarwood and musk filled the aroma around him, making you dizzy. so that was his smell yesterday in the car.

he towered over you, licking slightly at the scar on his lip, “cat’s got your tongue? or has megumi got a deaf plaything this time?” at the mention of your hearing, you tried to focus on the loud song playing instead of your unsteady heartbeat. the song was a forgein rap, turkish maybe? as it blasted through the gym and bounced off the ceiling.

you cleared your throat slightly, not trusting the power of your voice right now, “I uhm.. no.. I was just looking for fushiguro’s phone, and I uh.. found it here.” you waved the phone in front of your face, trying to show him.

he raises a brow, turning around and moving towards what seems to be a cable crossover machine. he grabs the hem of his black top with one hand, sliding it over his head as he dries the sweat around his neck, leaving the shirt there like a scarf. you stand there, staring at his muscular back. pressing your thighs together, why were you pressing your thighs together? this was megumi’s dad.

megumi’s phone kept buzzing in your hand, you looked at the screen, notifications on notifications showing there, you couldn’t see the texts unless it was unlocked but you could see the contact names, most of them were not saved, the rest being emojis.

“7 notifications from 💥”

“4 notifications from 👅”

“3 notifications from 🧜🏻‍♀️”

you could feel the rage settling in your stomach and all the way to your head, having a tight grip on his phone. the sound of weights bumping into eachother made you jump, looking up at where toji stood in between the machine, his arms working with the cables as his pecs flexed and unflexed.

the man glances at you from the side of his eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat. he keeps opening and closing his arms with the wire, his gaze not leaving you as you practically have a staring contest. he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, opening them as the scar on his lip tugs upwards with his smirk.

he stops moving his arms, making you flinch again with the sound of the weights hitting the metal, you find yourself pulling away your gaze from his crotch. when did you start staring at the bulge in his shorts?

you felt dizzy again as he started walking towards you slowly, his manly perfume filling your nose again. taking the damp black top around his neck and tying it around his forhead, he makes it into a makeshift headband as he pulls his hair back out of his forhead and up. you gasp at the sight, looking down at the ground in as your face starts heating up.

he stops a few inches infront of you, holding his large palm out to you as he motions for you to give him megumi’s phone. the loud forgein rap seems to fade away as his deep voice rings in your ears again, “explosion one’s ‘bitch that sucked him off real good,” he scrolled through megumi’s notifications with his thumb. the big phone looking tiny in his large hands, he held a bored expression on his face as he made your heart clench with each sentence, “tongue one he went down on,” he scoffs and chuckles darkly, “damn brat, the mermaid one must be the girl he fucked in my pool last night and denied of ever doing so when I busted his ass.” he twisted the phone in his hands and held it out to you.

a horrid expression filled your eyes as you kept your gaze on his chest, “oh and you must be the sunset girl, hm?” you looked up at him, tears brimming your eyes, “w-what??” he leaned forward and tucked megumi’s phone in the back pocket of your jean shorts, his big hand covering the majority of the cheek of your ass, making you shiver as your nose was practically in his neck, his musky scent making you dizzy.

as he pulled away, he whispered in your ear in a voice you could only recognize as seductive scary, “you look smarter than to be used by my excuse of a son, doll.” you blinked a few times. trying to register what just happened before quickly getting past him and making your way out of the gym and upstairs.

your head was swarming with thoughts as you sat in the living room, clutching megumi’s phone in your hands. you stared at the spiraling stairs that would lead you up to where he probably was. you were trying to mentally get yourself ready, should you ask him about it? should you even mention it? toji’s voice clouded your brain, he called you megumi’s plaything. was it true? were you just like all the other girls? getting used by him and getting lost between the many ‘emoji’s’?

you took a deep breath, heading upstairs and calling for megumi. his head plopped out of one of the rooms, hair in fluffy spikes as he smiled at you. “did you find it?” you nodded and walked towards him.

giving him his phone, he motioned for you to join him in his bedroom, sitting on his chair in the corner of the room as you sat on his bed in the center, looking at him anxiously as you gripped the bedsheets beneath your palms.

he was focused on his phone, scrolling through something with furrowed brows and an amused expression before he looked at you standing up and grabbing what seemed to be his car keys from his desk.

“hey uhh.. I’m sorry one of my friends is in big trouble, I gotta go but I’ll be back okay? do you wanna stay here until I come back?” he waited for your answer, lightly bouncing his foot as if he couldn’t wait to get out of the room and to wherever he was going.

you felt like you could cry any moment now, you just needed him to go away, to not be here to witness your pathetic tears and emotions. you bit on your bottom lip, should you wait for him? or go home? “uhm, yeah I’ll wait..” you said as his ocean blue eyes stared at you in anticipation, you couldn’t say no to them.

a wide smile came onto his face, giving you a salute and a small “thank you” before he hurried out of the room, getting downstairs with fast steps that you could hear.

you took a deep breath, falling back down on his bed, it smelled like him, like lavender. god what where you doing? your eyes felt heavy like your heart, why did you give him a chance to slither his way into you heart? he was supposed to stay your bully.

before you knew it, you fell asleep on his bed, your brain too swarmed by your thoughts that you wanted to just push away. you felt like you were half asleep, still being aware of your surroundings.

you opened your eyes to a vibration, it was your phone in your hands, you looked at the time, it had been almost an hour since you laid on his bed, not even aware if you were fully asleep or not.

you sighed, getting off his bed and out of his room, you looked around for a bathroom, finding it not too far from megumi’s room, in the same hallway a few steps down.

when you came out, you turned around only to bump into a chest, looking up, you covered your mouth with your hands, “I’m sorry! uhm...” it was megumi’s dad, he had a grin on his face, his hair damp atop his head, his chest bare, and a towel hanging around his torso.

he gave you a look up and down, “you’re good, where’s megumi?” he waited for your answer, but saw you fidgeting with your fingers and pouting, “he left you didn’t he?” you nodded weakly.

he brought his hand to his own chin, rubbing at it as he seemed to be deep in thought of something, then his gaze caught yours, your eyes dilating as a devilish grin made its way accross his lips.

before you could blink, your back was pressed against the wall of the hallway, his large hand around your throat as he towered over you. leaning his face close to yours as your eyes fluttered with his minty breath in your face, “then how about,” he tightened his grip on your throat, making you choke on a breath as he continued, “we get some revenge on him, yeah?”

you were speechless, this all felt like a fever dream. that’s it, maybe you hadn’t even woken up yet, maybe you were still sleeping soundly in megumi’s room. but the wetness pooling between your legs as he parted them with his knee said otherwise.

he smashed his lips onto yours, kissing you at a slow pace until your small hands were grabbing at his chest, pushing him away to look up into his dark eyes, “t-this is wrong— what are we—“

he sighed, “your little boyfriend is out fucking someone else right now, please don’t tell me your little teenage heart is in love with him or some bullshit.” he was right. you were nothing to megumi, you never had been. so why shouldn’t you act like he was nothing to you?

his eyes were searching your face, his brows scrunched together. you grabbed a fist full of the back of his hair and brought his lips down to yours, you could feel his smirk against your lips before he started to kiss you back again, this time rougher.

his tongue pushed against your lips, and you opened your mouth for him, letting him taste you. the smell of musk was all around you, making you dizzy as you grabbed at his hair. the kiss was a sloppy mess, his tongue dominating yours and biting at your bottom lip as he pulled back.

he pressed his bulge against your center, making you let out a small whimper as you looked up at him with doe eyes. he leaned in again, but this time his lips went to your neck, his tongue pressing against your pulse point as the beat of your heart got faster and faster. you could feel him sucking and nibbling on the skin of your neck, leaving trails of crimson and rosemary all over your collarbone as you shuddered and small pants left your mouth.

his large hands were pressing into both sides of your hip, the towel around his torso shuffling as he practically grinded your clothed center onto it. on of your hands was laced through his hair, grip tightening as his mouth traveled down to your chest, pressing wet kisses right above your boobs that were still covered by the material of your shirt. your other hand held onto the large muscle of his bare bicep tightly, crescents forming from your nails as he bit the hard bud of your nipple from above your shirt.

your hand on his bicep traveled to his chest hesitantly, so hesitant that when your fingers accidentally brushed against his left nipple, he hissed, a shudder running down his spine and pulling back from where he was marking you up. you studied the loon on his face closely, his eyes were filled with lust, looking you up and down as he towered over your small form.

you looked back at the hand that was resting on his pec, his nipple hard right between your index and middle finger. you took a deep breath, slowly moving forward towards his chest, he watched you as you pressed a kiss to his nipple, his arm twitching from on the wall, the fingers from his other hand tightening around the flesh of your tiny hip. he wanted to stop you, let you know who’s in charge, but he decided to wait, wanting to know what you’re up to.

you pressed another kiss to the bud, only this time, your tongue pressed against it as you pulled away, earning a grunt from him. you stuck out your tongue circling his nipple in slow movements as your other hand trailed down his defined stomach, grabbing onto the self-made knot of his towel as you attempted to pull him closer than he already was.

the way your tongue was swirling around his nipple as you sucked slowly, kissing it after each nibble had him weak. he was god awful thankful that you couldn’t see his face right now, because his expression was not him. his face was burried in your neck, the tip of his nose a light pink that dusted his defined cheekbones too. his eyes were scrunched shut, his nose upwards as his mouth was agape, small pants and broken breaths leaving his pretty lips.

when you finally got the knot of his towel free, the white material going loose around his torso, you bit down on his nipple gently. that was his breaking point, the rope that finally snapped. hearing a deep growl from him, you could feel large hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you up so you were flush against him, both your legs locked around his waist and your hands tight around his neck as you hid your face in between his two large pecs.

you were so lost in the strong smell of the shampoo previously used on his chest that you only felt his girth in between your legs when he started walking you both down the hallway. your eyes widened, looking down in between you and at the generous amount of manhood he had to give you with a gasp. you were dumbfounded, stuttering over your words as you tried to form a sentence, he was walking you both somewhere, a deep chuckle vibrating from his chest as you pressed your head to it again.

“ssshh don’t worry about that, doll.” he said, rubbing circles onto the flesh of your ass with his thumb. you pulled your head back from his chest as you felt his hands shuffle, throwing you onto a bed as you bounced a few times, your hair fanning around you as you closed your eyes, trying to prepare yourself for whatever is to come.

your eyes opened wide as your nose picked up the now familiar scent of lavender, looking around you in a haste, you were on megumi’s bed.

you looked forward, the sentence you wanted to scream at toji dying down on your tongue when you saw him crawling towards you with a malicious grin, the veins in his large biceps flexing with every moment, his cock standing upright under his stomach, the tip red and angry as precum dribbled onto the lavender-smelling sheets below you both.

his large form is above you, hands on either side of your head as he leans down again, grabbing at your shirt in an animalistic manner, you thought he was gonna tug it over your head, closing your eyes. you opened them back up when you heard a loud shredding sound. he had ripped your top to pieces, the fabric ripping in two beside you as your naked chest was exposed to him.

he raise his brows, the side of his mouth where his scar resided rising up into a half-smirk, “no bra? fucking dirty.” he grabbed one of your boobs, rolling your nipple in between his fingers as he took the other one his mouth, humming around it as his long eyelashes fluttered against his cheek, his gaze coming back to stare you in the eyes as you watched him. “were you prepared to get fucked by him again?” he said in between pressing his tongue against your nipple, earning small pants and whimpers from you.

“didn’t expect to be splayed out like this under his dad instead did you now?” his voice was deep, he sucked on your nipple repeatedly, making sure to give the other one the same attention as he rolled the other bud in between his large fingers. you moaned out loud when you felt his sharp teeth biting into your chest, “speak when you’re fucking spoken to.” he said as he landed a slap on your other boob, you whimpered, nodding your head “y-yes— I mean— n-no I didn’t—“

he gave out a dark chuckle, his hot breaths driving you crazy as he switched between your boobs, sucking and biting on the other one as he held them both in his hands, “haven’t even fucked you, yet you’re all dumb under me already.” he said with another chuckle as he hummed around your nipple.

he came back up to your lips, his huge cock pressing into your clothed center. you felt his fingers wrap around your throat, rising your head slightly from the pillow and bringing your face closer to his, your nose touching his, his gaze feral as it pierced you, his lips inches away from you as you could feel his hot breath over your lips.

he gave you a passionate kiss, his tongue diving into your mouth before he pulled away, your lips following him to get more, but he only chuckled darkly again, looking down at where his cock was practically twitching against you. “you gonna take your slutty fucking shorts off? or should I rip them as well huh?” you shakes your head rapidly, “n-no.” you squealed.

he raised his brows, his gaze moving between your eyes and your lips, his hand tightening around your throat, “no, who?” he nearly growled out. you squeezed your eyes together, breath catching in your throat as you whine out “n-no… daddy.” he smirked, giving a single smooch to your parted lips before loosening his hand around your throat, “atta girl, now c’mon, do as you’re told and I’ll play nice on you ‘kay?”

your hands were shaky as you lifted your hips, sliding your shorts down halfway to your knees, struggling to get out of them under his dark gaze. he groaned, rolling his eyes as his hands replaced yours, tugging the shorts down fully and throwing them somewhere on the floor.

he looked down at you, licking his lips. a wet patch had formed on your panties, his large hands coming to your hips, grabbing onto the waistband of your underwear before he groaned again, “too much fuckin work.” you heard another ripping sound, he had tore your underwear too, disregarding the pieces that remained on the bed as he ran his fingers along your inner thigh, his eyes coming back up to your face to watch your every expression.

“oops.” he muttered, snickering at you, before his face turned into one of— concern? your lips were trembling, tears prickling your eyes as you tried to blink them away. he moved up again, his hand coming up to hold your face in his palm, his thumb wiping at your wet lashes. “what is it, doll? are you scared?”

you sniffed, shaking your head grabbing his other wrist in your small hands, shakily bringing it to your lower stomach. he smiled, humming, “you want me touch you? take real good care of you?” his fingers inched closer to your clit, but still not touching, only grazing the upper part of your pussy.

you nodded, “uhh huh— p-please, fushiguro.” he chuckled again, the sound becoming familiar to your ears as you wanted to hear it more and more. “please??” he said in a teasing tone, his voice dropping a few octaves down if that was even possible.

“p-please toji—“ he laughed, the noise making your cunt flutter around nothing. “wrong answer, doll.” he slapped your clit, the action catching you off gaurd, making you let out a choked whimper. his hand still on your cheek, going down to grip your jaw as he hummed quizzically. “please, daddy.”

“mhhmm,” you felt his palm graze your clit as one of his thick middlefinger fingers entered you, your back arching and hips bucking up towards his hands as you moaned. “there you go, right there?” the pad of his finger pressed against the perfect spot inside of you, your thighs shaking around him as you nodded and moaned, his chuckles feeling your ears again.

your hips were bucking up against him in a circular motion, your walls tightening around his single finger as you felt the knot in your stomach begin to unwind, right then and there, he pulled his finger out of you, snickering as you whined. you looked down at him, his finger that was in you seconds ago now in his mouth as he hummed around it, “you taste so sweet, doll.”

he leaned down, taking his large cock in his hand, stroking the base a few times before lining it up right at your entrance, he was on his knees, looking down at you with a raised brow, “I’d ask you if you’re a virgin but,” your eyes widened as you felt his head move into you, your hands gripping the sheets and your knuckles growing white as you whimpered. “you’re a naughty little— fuck— slut. but still tight.”

your walls fluttered around him repeatedly as he tried to fit in more of his cock, stretching you open almost painfully, but god the stretch felt amazing. you felt like you could rip the sheets any moment now with the grip you had on them, you could barely keep your eyes open, nuzzling your head into your own neck and whimpering.

until you felt his fingers wrap around your throat again, looking at him as your mouth hung open, soundless breaths leaving your mouth and onto his face as he smirked, his cock was spreading you open so wide, you could feel every vein, every ridge of it brushing against your tight walls, and eventually his big balls tapping at your ass when he bottomed out.

he stilled inside of you, letting you let out your choked breaths until your hips were rutting against him, he groaned, “I’m trying to be nice here, give you time to get used to it, and you go and grind against me while I’m balls-deep inside of your tight little cunt?” your eyes rolled back as he gave you his first thrust, hard and unrelenting. making your tits jiggle up and back down again, your hands going to his wrist that is around your throat.

you hold his lower arm with one of your small hands, and the other around his wrist, pressing down on your throat until a squeak comes out your mouth, his cock twitches inside of you, and you clench around him as he gives you another hard thrust, “want me to choke you? you’re dirty like that?” his fingers tighten around your neck, and your around his arm and wrist.

his thrusts are hard, fucking into you with all the power in his hips and pulling out agonizingly slow, just to ram back in again. you moan out and let out incoherent babbles, he hums quizzically, and you lol your tongue out, his thrusts slow for a few seconds, chuckling darkly. he spits in your mouth, right on your tongue, and you can feel his thrusts speed up again as he grunts out “swallow then.”

and you do, you take all that he gives you, your cunt flutters around him again, your orgasm close as you claw at his large biceps, whimpering and moaning out, “f-faster, please daddy.” he groans, taking both his arms and balancing himself on top of you, but closer.

his hips move faster, not hard and agonizing anymore, but he listens to you. the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room and mixes with the ragged breaths coming out of his mouth, and then loud moans you’re giving out, your hands go to his hair as you feel the knot in your stomach snap, scratching at his scalp and pulling at the back of his hair.

he moans, the sound cutting short as he presses his lips to yours, it’s messy, just a wet battle of tongues as you both swallow eachother’s sounds. a string of saliva connecting you both as your pussy gushes all around him, cumming with a scream and another pull on the raven strands of his hair.

he keeps giving you sloppy thrusts, helping you ride through your orgasm, “fuck— yeah, cum on daddy’s cock baby, just like that.” his voice is shaky, the words coming out between broken breaths and grunts. he gives you one last thrust, making your whole body shudder as he fills you up, his warm cum painting your insides, as he moans repeatedly, his brows scrunched and his forhead resting in the crook of your neck as he tries to calm himself.

he lays on top of you for a while, but slowly pulls away as you start groaning, his body weight crushing you. with a chuckle, he pulls out, and it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve seen. he’s on his knees between your legs, holding the base of his own cock as he pulls out slowly, one side of his hair is in the air, messy around his head and beads of sweat decorate his chest.

you whine out at the feeling of being so empty, and he snickers, shaking his head and leaving the room before you notice. did he just leave you? you lay on the bed, and try to get up before his cum can stain megumi’s sheets. your legs are shaking as you try to make it to the bathroom, your lower stomach burning with an unfamiliar pain, you had never taken a dick this big before.

you washed up, getting out the bathroom with shaky legs, holding the wall for support. until you bumped into a chest, again. you looked up, he looked the same as when he left the room, “you really need to stop doing that doll. unless you want me to destroy your cunt.” toji says with a smirk, making your cheeks heat up.

“why did you get up?” he asks with a raise of his brows. you struggle to stand, your knee buckling as his gaze goes down to your trembling legs, chuckling as he has you in his arms in the blink of an eye, carrying you back to megumi’s room. “you can’t even walk now can you?” he says teasingly. and you huff, furrowing your brows as he sits you back on the bed.

“I went to bring you a shirt. since ya know-“ you look up at him, your eyes sparkling as he holds a black shirt in his hands, giving you a smile, “arms up.” you obey, putting both your arms up, waiting for him to put his shirt on you. he licks his lips, grinning as he gives out a chuckle, looking at you tits being stretched up with your hands, you didn’t even notice. you squeak, putting your arms back down and on your chest, trying to cover them as he chuckles again, his green eyes hooded and dark as he watches you, “hiding them from me as if— how adorable.” he shook his head.

he threw you his shirt, “go on, megs will be here soon.” you wear the shirt, the fabric big on you, the musky smell filling your senses again. you couldn’t face megumi now, not in his dad’s shirt.

toji chuckles, moving his hand through his hair as he clicks his tongue, “don’t think he can see you like this can he? or would you want that?”

your cheeks grow red, and you nibble on your bottom lip as you shake your head.

he sighs, “come down to the garage after you put your pants on. or don’t, that’s even better.” he leaves the room with a chuckle.

what did you just do?

•••••••••••••••••••

taglist? @medusa1111 (@itadaklmasu cuz your reply said part 2 heh) @emilykcoxx @calamariie (cuz you guy replied to part 1, hope you like this too <3)

© all content belongs to e-jaegerenthusiast, do not repost or copy any of my work

[veryholland]

prompt #20 from the list! “bandaging/stitching up an injury” maybe with frat!tom getting into a fight or punching a guy from getting too close to the reader at a party? 🤍

sorry i’m spamming ur inbox lol ;p

PEACHY

pairing: frat!tom x reader | word count: 992 | warnings: mild injuries | touch prompts

a/n: liv! thank you so much for requesting this. i planned on writing requests in the order they were submitted but i really couldn't put off yours any longer. more or less by coincidence, this includes @spidey-sophie's request (17: holding the other's chin up) as well, so i hope you don't mind that i combined those! enjoy reading! x

“What the hell, Tom? Do you want everyone to know?”

With a heavy thud, the door of the upstairs bathroom slams shut behind you. The bass of the music can still be heard through the wooden surface but it might as well be the sound of your heart thumping against your ribcage. Inside, the air smells clean. Gone is the unpleasant smell of sweaty bodies grinding against each other and spilt beer. Drawing in a calming breath through your parted lips, you turn around, finally facing him.

You never intended to get involved with a frat boy. In fact, just a year ago you would’ve laughed straight into anyone’s face who even suggested diving into a relationship with a member of the frat – that was until Tom happened.

Whatever it was that the both of you shared, it was hidden away from plain sight. Concealed behind closed doors and treasured beneath sheets.

In the beginning, it was all fun and games. The exhilarating buzz of hiding your infatuation with each other – sneaking into the frat house after curfew to spend just a few treasured hours together, exchanging texts during class when none of your friends were looking and holding back when all you wanted to do was smile at him across the hallway.

All fun and games – until it wasn’t anymore. Looking at his battered and bruised face, you now realise it only led to trouble.

A frown is holding tight over his features, his muscular chest rising and falling with rapid breaths and his grey shirt is rumpled. A few curls are sticking out from beneath his cap, the frat logo woven into its dark blue fabric now almost taunting you. But what draws in your gaze the most, is the nasty cut on his cheek and another one tearing right through his rosy and plump bottom lip.

“Sit down, I can’t look at this,” you say, not even trying to downplay the sharp timbre of your voice. After gathering your hair up into a messy but nowhere near decent bun, you turn to the cabinet, rummaging through drawers in search of a first aid kit.

“No need to fuss, I told you, I’m fucking fine.”

Frustration is clearly layering his words but they are closely followed by a defeated sigh as he slumps down onto the bathtub’s edge.

Pushing around a few toiletries, you finally spot a small bottle of disinfectant and take it out with a short but triumphant hum, before putting it next to the gauze pads you found just a couple of drawers below. After gathering it all in your hold, you close the drawer with a kick of your foot and turn back around just to be met with a sight that pulls heavy at your chest.

His head hung low, Tom is cradling the already peachy and bruised knuckles of his right hand in his left palm, shoulders slumped, gaze fixed onto the ground.

“You would be fine if you hadn’t punched him.” Your voice was now remarkably softer compared to how all of this started out, but you still couldn’t drop the bitter connotation.

Charged silence wraps itself around you as you step closer. For a moment you put the bottle of disinfectant onto the bathtub’s edge, using your free hand to remove his baseball cap, allowing you to get a proper look at his cuts. Your gentle touch is a prominent contrast to your clear irritation as your fingers find his chin, tilting it up slightly.

Once your eyes meet his honeycomb ones – the dark brown colour laced with something unrecognisable – his legs subconsciously part, allowing you to step closer in order to fittingly tend to his wounds.

“This is gonna hurt,” you warn softly, waiting for his nod of confirmation before continuing. Your hand is still cradling his chin as you use the other to dab the gauze pad over the peachy skin around the bruise that now finally stopped bleeding. His eyes flutter shut and a hiss flies past his lips, but he doesn’t flinch away from your touch.

You feel his eyes on you as you work around his face in silence and although you’re still mad, you can’t help but calmly smooth the pad of your thumb over his skin whenever the stinging sensation makes him draw in a sharp breath.

The tip of your tongue pushes past your parted lips in concentration as you dab along the curve of his lip with the last bit of sterile gauze. You turn around to pick up a new pad but his fingers curl around your wrist, effectively stilling your movements.

“I do,” he says, filling the silence, his voice soft and unsure, barely audible. Eyebrows drawn together in confusion, you look down at him.

“I do,” he repeats, voice now layered with more tenacity. “I want everyone to know.”

He stands up, completely ignoring your protests, but you fall silent when his uninjured hand comes up to twist a strand of your hair around his finger and his eyes connect with yours once more, fueling the churning attraction in your belly.

“I want everyone to know that this is about more than just a stupid brawl between frat bros.” He takes a step forward.

“I want everyone to know that when you return to the dorms past curfew, it’s because we couldn’t stop watching love island episodes on my laptop.” Another step.

“I want everyone to know that the hickeys you get asked about by your friends are the marks I put onto your skin.”

„I want everyone to know about you and me.“

He’s been slowly backing you up against the door, hands now braced on either side of your head as your heart picks up speed with every single one of his passing words. Tom pauses, drawing in a deep breath before speaking up again, the timbre of his voice now remarkably soft and airy.

“I want everyone to know that I am in love with you, y/n.”

okay so, here’s that :D getting back into writing really is an unmatchable feeling and i had so much fun writing this. i’m slowly finding my way back into the flow but yeah, let me know if you liked it! tips are always welcome! sending lots of hugs x

[presidentbungus]

do u have any heavymedic headcanons

- thiiiiis post. this one right here by my bestie @welcome-to-ikea. this post I have helpfully linked at the beginning and I will link it one more time. that one. please like and reblog it. they are in love. thank you ikea

- I think even from the beginning the doves love love love love Heavy. like, one day he came into the infirmary for surgery and sat down and in like 10 seconds his lap was just filled with birds and, like, he didn’t care. just chillen. it was one of the things that convinced Medic he might be someone to trust, actually, and maybe even… befriend (perish at the thought!)

- Medic starts off super like emotionally closed off “TRUST NO ONE EVER” because I guess he feels like he’s supposed to be that way when he’s with people like this but Heavy gently prods him into realizing it’s a stupid idea pretty fast. I think once the dam breaks the flood comes QUICK. as SOON as Medic figures out he can be ultra vulnerable with no consequences he basically sets aside like 4 hours a day for the both of them where they can just sit down and Medic can cry about his many, many emotional problems, which are numerous.

- Heavy loves loves loves loves listening to him talk in general even if he’s completely incomprehensible a lot of the time. for some unimaginable reason he finds his voice kind of soothing, and generally just enjoys the energy he gives off all the time. he could sit in a room and hear Medic tell stories about his various disastrous escapades forever and, looking back on it, it’s a little weird it took him that long to realize how he felt huh

- Medic lIkes how calm Heavy is—just having him around clears his head And GOD knows he needs that. its nice to just have someone to rant to and stuff who’s, like, willing to listen, and not trapped on an operating table at risk of having all of their organs unconsensually removed by gravity

- I think Heavy makes the first move, romantically mainly because Medic just gets so deep in denial at some point that to wait for him to make a move would probably take several years and a shovel. one day Heavy drags him aside and has this whole romantic thing planned where he like says everything he likes about Medic and everything they do for each other and the deepness of their Bro Bond and everything and the entire time Medic’s just half-listening nodding along feeling like the most tangible fucking relief anyone’s ever felt like ever. like oh. I guess that’s what that was about. LOL

- they protect each other VERY strongly. obv Heavy’s main role in battle is to protect Medic and, like, he does his job, but if a Spy backstabs Heavy in front of him then ough. poor guy. that Spy is going to die VERY SOON and it will NOT be fun

- Medic looooooves Heavy’s body. all his muscle and fat and scars and stuff. Medic loves to sit in his lap and lay against him and hug him and stuff and just like feel him. there is nothing that delights him more than when like Heavy’s carrying something and purposefully flexes in front of him to show off (sometimes he full on dramatic faints which is a significant health risk but he seems to be having a really good time so nobodu considers it that much of a problem)

- if you don’t piss either of them off you’ll be fine. if you piss off one of them you automatically piss off the other one and you will probably be dead

- they are both married to engineer. this is my headcanon. one day heavy was like medic do you want to marry me and medic said hold on let me ask my husband. and his husband said yes. and they’re a throuple they sit in rocking chairs on the porch and do crosswords together over tea and talk about gardening or whatever

[milkacchan]

Request for anon: Can I have Present mic, Aizawa, and all might where they learn their young student is fatherless? Like... their father walked out/went to prison when they were young. I'm sorry if this is time consuming, but I can't stop sobbing over my father.

I'm the situation baby but remember it wasn't your fault

I changed it up a little bit with Mics- I hope you don't mind

Present Mic:

• from the getgo something was wrong

• The moment you walked into class he could tell

• You looked like shit

• Dark bags under your eyes, hair messily brushed, just to get it out if your face, and your eyes were a light red.

• You didn't look particularly happy to be there either

• something turns in his stomach, a gut feeling that something really had went down

• And he hated seeing his students upset

• but he was relatively close to you to begin with, his felt different

• He felt like he had to do something

• Everyone settled into their seats as the bull rung but his eyes remained on you

• You honestly didn't pay attention during the lesson

• He could tell as much

• class finishes and the bell rings but you sit still, and it's not until most of the students have trickled out of the room do you start packing up

• He walks over and kneels in front of the desk "You okay there? You don't look so good," he looks concerned and his heart drops when he sees your lip start to quiver

• It takes you 0.27 seconds to break and you're frantically wiping your eyes as sobs wrack your body

• He's got his arms wrapped around you in seconds and you're leaning into his shoulder.

• He isn't sure exactly how long you're crying for but eventually you calm down enough to get out a coherent sentence

• "My-My dad was arrested Friday night. He won't tell me why- he won't let anyone else tell me why and I don't know what else to do," you cry, "I miss him so much and its only been a few days- I don't- I don't have anyone else, Mr. Hazashi,"

• And you're crying again.

• He has you take the rest of the day off, in fact he takes the day with you

• He calls in a sub (you don't know what strings he had to pull for that but you don't ask, at this point you don't care) and you two dip

• He takes you to get food, real food, that'll make you feel better

• He knows that'll help a little

• and after that he takes you to get something sweet- that tends to help mood and blood pressure and anxiety

• So he does his best with you

• He nutures you the best way he knows how

• if you need anything and I mean ANYTHING this man has you covered

• He does his best to step up in any way he can

• first off he extends his assignment deadlines and cancels two tests. Who needs them anyway.

• And you eat lunch in his classroom because he can well tell you don't want to talk to anyone else right now

• He closes it off (seemingly) so in reality its just you and him

• He'll probably tell Aizawa too but on the downlow (just so he knows)

• When holidays roll around, the dorms close.

• In this case- he let's you stay with him. He has an extra bedroom. He doesn't want you to stay in an empty house.

• You also get his phone number (which you gladly use) for anything really

• Bored? He'll deliver some shitty puns.

• Confused about homework? Text him.

• having a mental breakdown? He's got you covered.

• You got memes? Please for the love of God send them to him.

• The dynamic eventually shifts to a VERY father daughter relationship.

• He knows he'll never replace your dad. He understands that wholeheartedly, but he wants you to have someone

• He actually gets a letter from your dad, thanking him for taking care of you

• but he really doesn't mind

Aizawa:

• He had a feeling that there was something going on at home. Or rather, a lack of something.

• He's dealt with it in the oast- with himself and with past students and current ones

• Shinsou

• I mean, aside from that fact whenever parents were mentioned, you'd either stiffen up or wrinkle your nose

• You didn't really like the subject of parents

• There was an essay prompt about parents (nothing too personal) nd you ended up writing it on the extinction of dinosaurs and why God fucked up instead

"It'd be absolutely stellar to see huge lizards roaming the earth and occasionally stepping on people, you know? Jurassic park was onto something."

• Man's couldn't even fail you on it because it was written v well

• Anyway, he doesn't pry too much. He just silently figures it out by process if elimination and pattern.

• He doesn't really care too much

• In the sense if it doesn't define you and he doesn't help you because he pities you

• he helps you because he seems potential

• He takes you under his wing with shinsou

• Yall spend a whole summer training

• And that's when it all came out

• It was an accident really.

• Shinsou was tired, exhausted really

• and when people get tired- that tired- sometimes they spout random shot they wouldn't usually say

• and thats what he did

• he went on about his home life

• and if he could, you could too right?? You could trust them.

• "My dad walked out when I was a kid. Little, like 3. I have a few pictures of him holding me, but I guess it wasn't enough. I don't have any desire to meet him. Not anymore. But it left me feeling like I did something wrong? I guess? Which I suppose is why I train. Because then I feel strong. Which is a good difference from how it usually feels."

• He knew it.

• He called it.

• He was right again.

• He reassures you that you are good enough, strong enough, and his decision to leave had nothing to do with you

• and when he saw you give him a soft smile, he warmed.

• I mean really, it only goes up from there

• he'll deny it, or grumble under his breath, but he seems you two as his own

• Like these aren't my kids but they are my kids

• When dorms close on holiday yall get to stay because that's where he lives too

• Like if you chose too

• he's not gonna force you to stay but if you don't want to go home, you don't have too

• He has that power

• He will buy you food

• all you gotta do is ask

• and he'll roll his eyes and grumble something he doesn't really mean, just secretly happy that you feel comfortable enough around him to ask for something

• lmao family group chat

S: 'Hey Mr. Aizawa I found this cat. Hold on lemme send a pic'

A: 'Dont need a pic. Bring him home'

Y: 'What if he's ugly??'

A: 'gremlin. Bring him home.'

Or

Y: 'Hey I saw this tweet that said 'kids be like watch this and do a half roundhouse spin kick clap and waste my fucking time' and it make me think of you.'

S: @ mr. Aizawa when he has to watch deku do sumn

Y: Lmaoooo like when he threw the baseball

S: LMAOO

A: Me watching you too try to figure out how to beat me in training

Y: Yikes bro

S: That was a rough one

• Does he regret giving you and shinsou his number??

• Maybe

• Not really

• Lmao super secret lunch movie days

• Every week on wendesday yall watch a movie. Usually it takes 2 or 3 days to watch the movie since lunch is only 70 minutes

• @ you accidently calling him dad one day and shinsou snickering but it stuck

• dadzawa lmaoo

Allmight:

• Man's has 2 underlings.

• You and Deku.

• Picked you up when he started teaching at UA

• Ion know let's say one day you popped off bc he said some dumb shit and you were like no sir that's clearly wrong

• schooled him in his own damn subject

• the other kids were like 😳

• what the fuck

• Anyway

• He see's you have potential

• And though he's not the best teacher, you seem to respond better to the way HE was taught

• So tbh its easier to teach you

• 'okay, now I want you to beat the shot out if that wall,'

'Okay lmao bet'

• Midoriya is like, hey mayhaps we should analyze the situation

• N ur like noe

• You just don't give a fuck

• about anything really

• other than moving up the ranks

• But even then- its not a super super big deal, you're just gonna do your best but you aren't gonna stress

• However he noticed a pattern w you (even before Midoryia brought it up to him)

• You don't let anyone in

• Midoryia knows a bit more than the other students but that's really only because he's always with you

• a good majority of the week he's w you

• but its not really a deep connection

• you don't rely on either of them

• You do your best to do things on your own.

• He knows midoryias life story

• he knows why he acts the way he does

• but he doesn't know why you do

• he has a gut feeling it could be the same as midoryia

• I mean he already had one kid who's dad dipped

• he'll surely be able to figure out you too??

• So he makes himself a promise that he'll figure it out and he'll become someone you trust

• And he does just that

• When you tell him about your nightmare of a family history he's like mm, makes sense

• but he's happy that you trust him!!!

• He's a BIG suckered for movie nights

• he's got popcorn, snacks, candy, chocolate, soda- he's prepared

• list of movies lined out all ready

• I lowkey feel like he'd be into lord of the rings or fast n furious

• fast n furious at LEAST

• He's really into American action movies

• and he has no problem sharing those movies with you

• he doesn't have a whole ton of money, like he's not rich, but if you or midoryia need something he's definitely there to get it for you

• even if ur like fam no you don't need too

• he'll buy yell food a lot

• a l o t

• and cards

• when you and midoryia get him a father's day card he thinks he's gonna cry

• You guys also have a group chat

• 'da faemilee'

• Y: "Hey dad do you have milk?"

A: "???? Do I have milk????"

Y: "ya I'm looking in your fridge n ion see any???"

A: "How'd you even get in????"

Y: "Izuku."

I: "lmaoo"

Or

Y: Izuku you dumb bitch I left for ONE day

Y: And you got into a fight with Bakugou

I: He wanted to throw hands. I just did what you would do.

A: He's got you there

Or

A: What do you guys want for dinner

I: Sushi

Y: Chicfila

Y: Izu square up

I: K

Or

Y: Izu is fighting kacchow again

A: Beat his ass young midoriya

Y: Lmaoooooo

[tigerdrop]

so. this is my attempt at posting a 20k-word-long g/t frenrey RP that kogo and i were doing at the start of this year. its not finished and im not sure when were gonna pick it back up, since we are currently working on co-op game theory instead of a filthy RP that takes place like 100k words down the line of co-op game theory. but ive been sitting on it long enough so here u go

i never really planned on posting this anywhere so its really self-indulgent and not as polished as our usual stuff but look. this is a ludicrous amount of erotica im dropping here. cut me a lil slack

anyway, here it is: Gordon Gets A Xen Bath

Gordon tries to keep moving, but eventually his pace slows to a stop, his legs growing heavier and heavier until he can't bring himself to lift them.

"Okay. Okay," he pants, bending over and bracing his hands on his knees. "I can't fucking do this anymore, man! I'm tapped out! We've been walking all day - or, well, I have, I don't know about you. We can't... can't all be alien god fuckers, floating around or whatever." He pauses to catch his breath. Every muscle in his body aches from the strain of hopping around Xen in the HEV suit. Sure, gravity doesn't have quite as strong a hold here as it did back on Earth, and that makes all that metal easier to lug around, but it seems like time doesn't work the same way, either. Gordon can't tell how long it's been. Feels like days.

Smells like it, too, now that he's got a moment to breathe. He's covered in dirt and slime and congealed alien blood and God know what else.  In short, he needs a fucking break. And Gordon aggressively takes one right then and there, dropping to his feet. What's the rush, anyway? "Like we're ever gonna find out way out of this fucking place," he mutters.

> Benrey watches as Gordon collapses, a pile of metal and smells. Odors. Sweat and dirt and tangled hair. His head tilts to the side but his expression remains flat as he lifts his head and gazes out into the vastness of Xen, before turning back to Gordon and furrowing his brow. They hadn't even gotten far, not really, so it doesn't really make sense that he'd just crumple like this.

> He sniffs, shuffling in a circle on his feet as Gordon bitches behind him--something about never escaping Xen, as if Benrey hadn't traveled from one end to the other to find him in the first place--and chews his lip in deep concentration, trying to think of literally anything that would maybe make the guy stop. Stop with the, uh, whining and whinging and "blah blah, we're not all alien god fuckers" or whatever.

> (Though, well, technically, Gordon was an alien god fucker anymore. Their time back with the space maggots and the gun bugs and that skinny doppelganger had seen them in a couple of situations where Gordon happily fucked an "alien god.")

> But. Wait. No. Mind wandering. Wandering to fun places, places more fun than being lost in Xen (though he's not lost; they'll find their way out eventually), but not anywhere useful. And, for once, he has to think along those boring terms. Being, you know, reliable or whatever.

> What matters is making Gordon go. The hamster wheel in his head turns and turns until the rodent is slung clear off and, with a slow blink, Benrey accepts defeat. Ideas are not his forte when he's actually trying to be helpful. He turns to his human, he tilts his head in the other direction, and he waits for his human to look up at him. Then, he speaks without even waiting for eye contact.

> "So, uh... what can best friend Benrey do to... make you. I dunno. Less dumb?"

> Nailed it. Benrey is getting good at this "empathy" thing.

Gordon drags his gaze up from the ground to Benrey, and immediately scrunches his eyebrows up. "Wow, that was almost nice of you," he says, a touch of genuine surprise in his voice. It doesn't outweigh the disdain, though. "You know what? Just don't do anything. The best thing you can do right now is to stand right there and do absolutely nothing... and let me just... catch my breath."

He hopes against hope that, for once, Benrey will do what he says. Despite all the evidence that suggests otherwise. His internal monologue turns a bit haggard. Well, it's not like there's anything he could do about it, anyway. Even if he was fit as a fiddle, if Benrey wanted to fuck off and get lost, there was no stopping him.

He can't hold Benrey's stare for long, though. It's-- it's always harder to look him right in the eye like this. Something about the size of him makes it uncomfortable, like he's staring right through Gordon. So he darts his eyes away, scanning his surroundings. The perils of an alien landscape: all the little islands and chunks of earth start to look the same after awhile. Rocks and strange, angry plants and pools of mysterious fluids. He's seen it all. There's a number of all these things and more around him, but the one thing he finds himself wishing for is something to eat. You can't trust anything out here.

"I just want a burger, man," Gordon groans. "Sick of jumping around like I'm playing some kind of platformer. You know, they never tell you how exhausting this shit is! My heart's-- my heart's racing-- like, adrenaline? Hate fucking jumping over these big-ass pits, I'm tellin' you."

Or, failing that, like, a nap. Or a bath. He vocalizes both of these things before burying his head in his hands. Maybe he could get one of those microsleeps going. If he can just calm the fuck down, anyway.

> Food? Nap? Bath?

> Benrey's mouth curls into a jagged smile. Of course Gordon would just need some of that weird, seemingly pointless human stuff. You would think after two grand adventures of dragging this sad sack around and listening to him complain every two meters, he'd have picked up on the human necessities. Things like 'burger" and "bed time" and "smelling like preferred smells, and not the natural smells that are apparently 'bad.'"

> A huge sigh heaves out of Benrey and he watches in amusement as it makes Gordon's hair puff out of his face. Small little tiny man, curled up on a chunk of rock, not able to embiggen and make things easier. It's sad and pathetic, almost as sad and pathetic as Gordon looks, but Benrey knows he's capable of being a good enough guy for the both of them. A real bro. A best friend.

> Because he knows Xen inside and out for some reason. And he's observant. He's seen things and can do the mental math necessary to figure out how to problem solve, sort of. He's spent enough time floating around Xen to figure out what those sparkly puddles do, and he's seen enough of those people back in the Wrong World eat the not-Lamarrs (or, at least the Vorti-bros did, which were close enough).

> And, well, Gordon could literally sleep anywhere. There was dirt for days, lots of rocks to align the spine. Fun nap places. Good for Gordon.

> With a burst of pride and dagger-toothed grin, Benrey propped his elbow on the island where Gordon was whining and held out his hand, palm up and flat, extended as an open invitation.

> "Oh. Uh. That it? That's, uh... that's a cool I can do. Big cool for you."

He stares, eyes narrowed in confusion. "What? What do you mean, that's a-- What are you doing?"

> "I'm doing a cool," Benrey responds. Though his voice is still fairly flat, there is a bite to it, hidden almost completely under his monotone. As if to emphasize the point, he lifts his hand and slaps it back down into the earth once more in a way he thought was light. Judging from the way the ground shook and the island rocked, perhaps not as light as he'd imagined.

> "Gonna, uh... help. Or somethin'. You gettin' on or you gonna be a babyman about it?"

Gordon yelps as the ground shakes around him, even though he's (relatively) safe on the ground. "Jesus, Benrey! Watch it!"

What the hell is he doing? His eyes dart between Benrey's hand and face as the gears struggle to turn. It's been a long fucking day, all right, and Benrey's... Benrey-isms are hard enough to understand at the best of times. This is supposed to help, somehow. So, scratch the burger. And the nap, too, probably. So, does that mean he wants to--

No. That's stupid. He's stupid for thinking it. Gordon steadfastly ignores the way his ears prickle and shakes his head, like a dog ridding itself of water.

"Please tell me you're gonna just carry me the rest of the way," Gordon sighs. It's a visible effort for him to get back to his feet. "Hey, actually, why didn't you just do that from the get-go? You're not even breaking a sweat!"

He complains, sure, but it doesn't stop him from dizzily shuffling forward and stepping on. Better late than never. He'll have plenty of time to chew Benrey out for this once he's out of this alien hellscape and back in his own goddamn bed.

> Benrey blinks.

> Oh. Yeah. He probably could have carried Gordon, huh? The thought never really occurred to him at first because, well, why would it? Was he a bad guy--a bad friend--for believing that his bestest buddy was a capable man? Color him insensitive for actually expecting things of Gordon, but he'd just watched the guy win Space Invaders in real life.

> After that, traipsing through Xen should have been a walk in the park.

> Best not to point that out, though. Gordon may take offense and, for once in his life, he isn't out to make him mad. He's trying to be good, trying to carry that camaraderie they built from Shit World Without Sony Products back to Good World With Heavenly Sword. Highlighting Gordon's stupid human failings would only work to reset the karma he'd worked so hard to build up in their social link. Or, you know, however humans fucking worked.

> Instead, he lets Gordon crawl onto his hand and then turns away, wracking his mind for the last place he saw a good puddle. After all, it made sense to start with a bath, right? Eating while gross would make Gordon complain, and sleeping while gross wouldn't be much better. Drifting past island after island, his head swivels to see if maybe there are some good candidates going forward.

> And there's... really not. Testicle stalks. Pointy rocks. Less pointy rocks. Tit-on-stilts that is aggressively spitting little Lamarrs over the edge of a rock chunk that looks like Swiss cheese. Benrey isn't sure what it's hoping to accomplish, but it's sure as fuck not accomplishing it.

> Then, he sees it, in the distance: A glittering pool of blue that sparks like electricity and glitters like cheap body mist. A strange smell, not unlike Sweet Voice, wafts from its direction. It's certainly one of the Good Smells Humans Like. Gordon will love it.

> Wordlessly, he glides toward it. Gordon's smart. He'll know what he's getting at.

Benrey's not saying anything, which is mildly concerning, but he is looking around like he knows what he's looking for. And when Benrey fucks off, Gordon in tow - held in a grip that's a little looser than he likes - Gordon lets his brain wind down for the first time in... a long while. Flying around Xen like this is nervewracking, yeah, but in a way he's more equipped to handle. Benrey's chest at his back helps. It's solid as a wall and deceptively warm, and if he keeps himself pressed flat against it, he can almost forget about these bottomless pits they're flying over.

He lets Benrey go like that for an indeterminable amount of time. (He may have dozed off a little.) But Gordon comes back to himself once Benrey's velocity changes. Gets a bit more pointed. Eventually, Gordon puzzles out that he's heading for one island in particular, one with a shimmering pool on its surface. Not exactly what the endgame was.

Wait. Gordon's brain chugs. He was looking for... some kind of water? Oh, Christ.

"Wait, were you being serious about the bath thing?" he asks as they approach. "I-- I wasn't being that serious about it! Getting out of here kind of seems like the more important thing!"

> "Huh?"

> The word falls off of Benrey's lips despite the fact he actually heard everything Gordon said. He heard him and even registered him, but he just didn't get him. After all, he's fairly certain that Gordon wants a bath considering it was one of the big things that spewed out of his mouth when he was being all needlessly fussy before, so why isn't he just saying it? Owning up to it?

> Was it because it was a detour? Slowing them down? Or was it just Gordon being whatever-the-hell-Gordon-was?

> Yeah, that had to be it. Gordon just doesn't want to get side-tracked. That's fair, he supposes. Or, at the very least, he assumes that's what a human would consider fair, considering how obsessed with "time" and "schedules" and "fast" they all were.

> "Real quick dip," Benrey promises, hoping to put Gordon's mind at ease; it was a far cry from what he typically did, so he could only hope it landed properly, that he was saying the right things and had the right inflections. "Real fast. Get'cha all nice. Wet. Uh. Soaps and hygiene. You know."

"Oh my God, man, it's gonna be a whole fuckin' production!" Gordon agonizes as Benrey brings them to that strange, glittering watering hole. "Saving the world's kinda time-sensitive, you know? And it's always such a hassle getting in and out of this thing! And-- Okay, hold on, you actually want to-- Okay. Fine. Look, I'm just saying, this is weird even for you, Benrey!"

Soaps. Hygiene. You know. Letting his best frenemy peel him out of his suit so he can scrub him clean, like normal people do. A shiver runs down the back of Gordon's neck. There's gotta be some kind of catch, but honestly, he's having a hard enough time keeping up with events as they're written. If there's some kind of malicious subtext to this whole thing, well, that's not his problem. He's got more important things to worry about, like convincing Benrey that it would be a little more prudent to just keep forging on rather than waste valuable time on a bath.

...Unfortunately, he's close enough to smell whatever it is that wafts off the surface in waves, and it makes Gordon's resolve waver. It's a clean smell, warm and vaguely fruity, with an undercurrent of salinity. Like a shower that's just been used, almost. God, he'd really like that, wouldn't he.

> The words don't really have weight to them anymore. If Benrey had a nickel for every time Gordon called him "weird" or told him he was endangering the world by taking detours, he'd have enough nickels to melt them down and make a big-ass nickel. And, judging from the way even Gordon's mouth wasn't running anymore, it didn't seem like Gordon had put any weight into his own words, either.

> Which was good. Real good. It meant Benrey was doing a nice job of not pressing every one of Gordon's buttons like a kid in an elevator, and being a proper friend. Best friend. More than friend? God, he fucking wished.

> And he'd shut up right in the nick of time, too, because the urge to tease is building up inside of Benrey like pressure in a flaming aerosol can. It's hard not to want to pick at him when Gordon is griping like this, just goading him on with his (strangely cute) bullshit. Benrey mentally pats himself on the back for a job well done as he glides to the edge of the island and leans carefully over the tiny expanse of mottled dirt and glittering water.

> "S'fine. You're fine. S'gonna be fine. Just cleanin' you up, makin' you pretty. Like a good friend. Best friend."

> The water bubbles against the back of his hand as he extends it, dangling Gordon over the surface so he can get a good look at it himself. Maybe, with the proper viewing, he'll realize that this will be a pleasant time all around. Good for him. Fun for Benrey. Bonding experience.

> "Gonna make you, uh, real shiny. Polished.  A, ah, regular... Casa... Casa del Nova."

> With that, he hooks a nail under one of the thigh pieces of the HEV suit and waits, eyes resting on Gordon's face in search of approval. Approval he selfishly hopes comes quick, before reflex takes over and he pops it off regardless.

Gordon peers over the edge of Benrey's hand to look down at the water, where it lies placid and clear and a vivid blue-green. Mysterious bubbles aside. It's... it's like one of those pools at Yellowstone, he thinks dizzily. They look so warm and inviting and then you step in and suddenly your flesh is deciding to melt right off of you. Gordon's stomach swoops unpleasantly.

Then Benrey offhandedly mentions making him pretty, as if he were just trying to sell Gordon on a new restaurant, and it swoops for an entirely different reason. An irritating reason.

"Don't just fucking say things like that," he says hotly, his voice pitching up and cracking from nerves.

But it becomes an afterthought in short order when Gordon feels Benrey's nail tugging at his HEV suit, and he realizes that Benrey's very, very serious about this. Especially when he fixes Gordon with that intent stare. Like he's waiting for something. Permission? It must be, since he's not making any moves to pop off the armor on his thigh. Gordon looks down at Benrey's finger, chipped black paint peeking out from the corners, then back up at Benrey.

Oh, fuck this. He hates when Benrey does this. It's one of those mind games, or something. Make Gordon be the one to make the call, like it's a game of chicken and Benrey's trying to get him to lose. Instead of, you know, not derailing his entire fucking journey in the first place with the suggestion of a bath. One where, well, it does smell really nice. And he can feel the ambient heat from the water from his perch on Benrey's palm. And Benrey's offering to pry him out of his suit and, presumably, do the washing for him. So Gordon doesn't have to move a muscle. Or even think about it.

His face twists and turns its way through a melange of emotions before he decides, fuck it. Even if this is weird, and Benrey's probably playing some kind of 4-dimensional chess, his mind's already sold itself on the idea. So Gordon's tongue darts out to wet his lips, mouth unexpectedly dry.

"I-- Okay-- You know what, fine. We're already here. Just... no, fucking, tricks or jokes or whatever, man. If you leave me on some fucking rock with my dick out, I'm going to kill you," Gordon tells Benrey.

> What Benrey wants to say is that Gordon is being a baby. A bitch, even. There's no reason for him to get all flustered and pissy when they've already done so many things together. Things that only the closest of bros do, like take down a hostile invading force and push their dicks together and make out. But instead, Benrey takes a deep and steady breath as he works his nails deeper under the chassis of the HEV suit and tugs up with a satisfying click as the latches come undone and the thigh piece flops uselessly off of Gordon.

> "Cool."

> He moves onto the next section, eyes narrowing and eyebrows knitting above his nose as he looks down at Gordon and tries to focus. Head empty, aside from trying to figure out how in the hell he's actually supposed to undo all the delicate bits with fingers as big as his human. It was easier when he was small, and he supposes he could be small again, but that would be no fun. Perhaps he could just rip it off of Gordon with his teeth like the top of a sardine can, but it would be even less fun to deal with the little guy yelling at him for hours.

> Getting Gordon's goat was fun and all, but god, did the guy know how to harp on a subject like no other person he'd ever met.

> Instead, Benrey's tongue pokes out between his fangs as he presses the tip of his finger against the inside of Gordon's other thigh and lets his fingernail search for the seam, the latch. He cocks his head like an owl and leans down close enough that Gordon could touch his face, heaving out a huge and uncharacteristically irritated breath. From here, he can smell the musky odor of sweat and dirt and grime and alien goo, and it's strangely nice. Earthy. Very Gordon.

> He'd smelled it before, when he wasn't quite this big, when Gordon was unzipping his suit and climbing into his lap and drool pools at the corner of Benrey's mouth, equal parts saliva and lusty Sweet Voice and--

> Click.

> The other piece of thigh armor falls away. The noise shakes Benrey to his senses.

> "Turn please," he orders mindlessly. His voice is a bit more husky and demanding than it had been a moment before.

Gordon watches as Benrey pops off his armor like it's nothing, like Gordon hasn't spent hours fruitlessly trying to do the same himself. It would have saved him the constant indignity of relying on Benrey to get him in and out of the fucking thing. He tries really hard not to think about the indignity of this, too - Benrey's face so close to his, a hot, irritable breath fanning over him, and fingers at his--

Oh. Gordon jumps a little at the insistent press of a fingertip against his inner thigh, and heat rushes to his face. This part's mildly embarrassing at the best of times, when Benrey's smaller and more human-sized, but now? With fingers much too big for the job? Spreading his legs apart where he sits, rubbing insistently against his inner thigh... He can't help the shaky breath that forces its way out of him.

Jesus Christ, his hands are big, Gordon thinks, mind racing. Sure, yes, he's had this thought before, when Benrey was using them to slap gunships out of the air, but it's a little more pointed when they're prodding him like this. He tenses. Not entertaining these thoughts today, thank you. The whole point of this, presumably, was for a normal, ordinary bath. In a pool of mysterious alien water. With his rival stripping him down and scrubbing him. While he's so big that he could squish Gordon like a bug, if he wanted... or pick Gordon up and maneuver him around, broad fingers all over him, sizing him up. If he wanted.

He comes back to himself when he hears a command. Turn please. Quick and insistent. Gordon's eyes jerk away from where they'd been staring at Benrey's finger.

"Turn? Like, fucking-- God, ow--" Gordon hisses through his teeth as the motion twists one of his aching muscles the wrong way. "I don't even know why I'm doing this. It's not like this was stopping you... You know, I'm starting to think you just like bossing people around for no fucking reason." Despite his bitching, he does as he's told.

> Maybe he does like it. The bossing, that is. Benrey isn't sure. It's one of the few human things he knows--his job back at Black Mesa--and it's one of those things he's good at. Usually. At least now he feels good at it, with Gordon actually listening to him.

> He watches as Gordon turns, head shifting to tilt in the other direction, watching as his human trustingly turns his back to him and displays himself in a way that makes more Sweet Voice seep from between his teeth. He sniffs, he uses the back of his free hand to wipe away a trickle of fluorescent fluid trailing from his lips, and quickly wipes his hands off on his pants. His eyes never leaves Gordon's back.

> Lower back.

> His ass.

> Benrey had told him before that it was a nice one, and it was still true... uh, even if he can't really see it with Gordon sitting and all. He can imagine it in its entirety, though, nice and small, even as he fumbles with the latches on the back of the chest piece. He hardly notices as he clicks it open and the front hits the pad of his palm with an audible slap of metal against skin. He reaches around to pluck it away, the side of his hand brushing against Gordon's front.

> Gordon's heaving chest. His soft midsection. His...

> Benrey shakes his head as if snapping himself out of a trance. An involuntary laugh snorts out of his nose as he leans down, peeking over Gordon's shoulder like a creeping dragon, breath hot against the back of Gordon's neck.

> "Cute."

> And with that, he grabs the next part of Gordon: his arm, raising it up effortlessly like a doll's and carefully searching for the next latch.

Maybe facing away from Benrey wasn't the smartest idea, in retrospect. It feels like he's closer, somehow, his breath coming hotter and faster against Gordon's back. Benrey breathing down his neck should be, like, gross. Creepy. Gordon knows by now that Benrey likes to make a big deal about keeping them clean, but it's not like he knows when Benrey brushed last. It shouldn't smell... like that. Sweet. A distinct chemical note on the underside. Like ketones on his breath, but nothing that Gordon can place for certain.

Sweet Voice, probably. It's muted and subtle. He's not belting it out like he usually does, so Gordon can only guess what Benrey's feeling. Unfortunately, he's all too aware of what he's feeling: goosebumps, pebbling his skin from the neck down. A little frisson. They crawl all the way down his arms and make him shiver.  He can practically feel Benrey's eyes on him, too, all up close and personal. Don't break a sweat, he wills himself, because he knows Benrey's watching him like a hawk.

It doesn't stop a bead from pooling at the back of his hairline, then losing the fight against gravity and slowly trickling down his neck.

Benrey snorts, and Gordon flinches, cursing under his breath. He couldn't even have that, huh. Then Benrey has the audacity to call him cute. And that makes his blood pulse, briefly flashing his skin with heat, before receding just as quickly and leaving a chill in its wake.

"Wh-- Whoa, okay," Gordon starts. His indignant response is temporarily cut off by Benrey lifting his arm between a thumb and forefinger. He offers about as much resistance as a fucking action figure, even creaking a little for good measure, and it's distracting, okay?

After a few moments, though, he regains his bearings. "Shut up, man," he says, flustered. "I'm not even-- Just-- Quit being weird, okay?" Because, frankly, this is weird. He's not used to Benrey being so... accommodating. Helpful. Nice. And he doesn't know what Benrey's endgame is, here. So it just leaves Gordon feeling off-kilter. Uncertain. A little hot in the face.

> Benrey's eyes flick up like a lizard that's spotted its next meal when he hears Gordon's words, conveniently at the same time as he finds the latch with his nail. The armor on his upper arm falls away with a clonk and his fingers move down to the much-easier-to-remove gloves and wrist pieces, which come undone with a light twist and an even lighter yank. But his gaze isn't even looking at what he's doing, instead resting on the back of Gordon's hair, now wet with sweat and the dampness of his own breath.

> His skin is raised up in little bumps, and so are his hackles. Something bright and violet and base, fluorescent, builds at the back of Benrey's tongue, and he swallows it down. He has to focus, keep his composure. Get the other arm with a few quick clicks, fingers now more adventurous than they were before. The pads trail across Gordon's back, the undersuit bunching with his touch, pressing into his side for no reason other than the urge to feel. Then, when the second arm is freed, he remembers he forgot the boots.

> "Not being weird," Benrey protests as he wrangles Gordon in his grip, sighing heavily as he pinches him lightly in his grasp and rolls him in his hand like some kind of trinket. Until they're face to face once again and Gordon is flat on his back in his palm. He takes a moment to idly scratch his chin before reaching for the metal encasing his lower legs and feet.

> "Not weird to, uh, help a bro out. Be a friend. Friends call friends cute. All the time. Every day. S'pre... pre-requi... prere..." He pauses and stills and, then, with unwarranted confidence, forces the word out and continues fiddling. "It's pre-registered to, uh, do that. Yeah."

Blunt fingers at his arm, his back, his sides, prodding and rolling him around - each investigatory touch makes Gordon cognizant of just how much he's holding his breath. Until Benrey manhandles him into laying flat on his back, that is. A startled noise bursts out of him, and then Gordon's looking straight up at Benrey, with nowhere to go to escape him. Even without a hand pinning him down, he can't help but feel like he's stuck in place, anyway.

At least Gordon can sit up on his elbows a little. Less like he's some kind of specimen that way. And he lets Benrey fiddle with the boots, the strange feeling that curls in his stomach easing up on him the longer Benrey messes with something other than his soft, fleshy, vulnerable bits. He lets out a shaky breath of... relief. Let's go with that.

"IIII don't know about that," he says. "I'll be real with you, I'm not the kind of guy who does that... Uh. Well. Except there was that one time in high school? But it kind of weirded her out and she stopped talking to me."

Gordon pauses for a moment, brows wrinkling in thought. Then he shakes himself. "Anyway, that's not even the point. The point is," Gordon emphasizes, feeling like he's trying to present a convincing legal argument to a judge with all the size and breadth of (and possibly, the powers of) some ancient Greek god, "I think you have a, uh, tenuous grasp of what friendship entails, buddy. My friends don't call me cute."

As an afterthought, under his breath, he adds, "Nobody calls me cute." It comes out more bitter than he expects.

> The boots come off, one after another. The shin guards, too. Politely, Benrey scoops up all the miscellaneous pieces piled in his palm between his free fingers and puts them to rest next to the pool of... well, "water." Liquid. Something, though he's hard pressed to tell you exactly what it is. "The Bath."

> He listens as he does so, to Gordon squawking and muttering and saying, well, things. Things that he's not really listening to as he brings his hands back up to Gordon and tries to figure out where the zipper to the bodysuit is. Technically, he knows where it is, but his fingers are huge and the zippy-uppy part is so small, and he's prodding and poking with gentle strokes along Gordon's chest and belly where he saw the seam once-upon-a-time. He feels his nail click against the metal and it's... uh, well, it's aggravating.

> And Benrey isn't used to this kind of aggravation. Fuck's sake, he just wants to see some dic... ah. He just wants to help his best friend get a nice bath and feel better. Because he is a good guy who does good things like kill gun bugs for tiny dudes who can't shoot straight and not drive off with vehicles when Gordon leaves him alone. He's a good guy who doesn't want to be bad and--

> "Uh," he drawls, his mouth moving before he can really catch himself, "fuckin'... maybe people would call you cute if you, uh, weren't such a, uh, mean. So mean about it. Mean to me, just trying to say nices. To my best friend. Being such a good and a cool."

> His voice dies as he misses the zipper again. Fuck. When he speaks again, it darkens.

> "Please unzip suit? Please? Thank-you."

Soon enough Benrey's got him down to that reinforced bodysuit, the last piece of armor sliding off his hand with little resistance. Usually, this is where this process stops: Benrey gets him out of the armor, and Gordon fucks off and does whatever it is he needs to do. Change. Wash up. Sleep. The part where Benrey starts tugging at the fabric in search of the zipper? That's new. And it catches Gordon so unawares that he can't even speak.

That fingertip strokes him, almost, warm even through the black fabric, and a harsh breath whistles through Gordon's nose. It feels him up from his chest to his belly, a warm and insistent pressure. All the words in Gordon's brain get trapped in a mental sieve. In their place is a single, repeating thought:

Oh, God.

Benrey keeps trying, again and again, fingernails scraping uselessly against Gordon's belly. And his eyebrows furrow harder with the effort, frustration evident in his frown. And his fingers. Their grasping grows rough and imprecise and Gordon's trying so hard to bite his lip because there's an ugly noise threatening to punch his way out of him and Benrey's saying something to him that he can barely focus on and then finally, finally, he's giving up and pulling away. Christ.

It takes a moment for his mental fog to clear and for Benrey's words to sink in. Unzip? Himself? Oh, no. Somehow that's worse.

"Can you, like... give me some privacy, maybe?" Gordon complains.

He immediately feels stupid afterward. It trickles down from his scalp like something cold and slimy. So he clears his throat, and admits, begrudging, "I, uh... I'm not trying to be mean. It's been a long fucking day, okay? You're... uh... Well. Thanks. I guess. For trying to be nice."

There's a beat before the silence gets to be too uncomfortable, and Gordon hurriedly follows it up by saying, "Don't take this the wrong way. I think you could still use a few pointers on being 'nice' to 'humans', you know."

> "Wha?"

> In a second, the irritation is gone. Benrey's expression turns flat. He leans in close to Gordon and inhales deeply (yup, still smells like Gordon) and exhales just as hard.

> "I'm nice," he defends, eyes flicking down the pile of HEV parts on the island. "Fuckin', ah, Mother Tuh-ree-sah. You're the one who is bein'--"

> A pause. Nice. He was being nice, and he wasn't going to pick at Gordon. He wasn't going to point out that he was the one being snippy, while he was out here undressing him, and carrying him around, and getting ready to give him a bath, and maybe touch his--

> Wait.

> "Privacy?"

> The word tastes bad, real bad. The kind of bad that makes Benrey want to scrape his tongue off on his teeth. That isn't how they'd played these games before. Is this even still a game, though? Did "nice" contradict "games" too much? He isn't sure and he doesn't even give himself a chance to think about it as he nudges Gordon encouragingly with a finger and the words just start rolling out of his mouth.

> "No? No place to private at, bro. Maybe gonna have to just, ah, suck it up, friend. Besides--"

> Benrey leans forward on the island on his elbow, chin resting in his hand. As his body tilts, Gordon raises higher up due to his shifting of positions.

> "Can't, ah, can't not look. Dinosaurs and, uh, zombies out here. Ghosts. Gotta keep my eye on you. Safe-tee."

Safety. Right. As much as Gordon doesn't want to admit it, Benrey has a point. He's... vulnerable like this. And it would be just his luck that he gets beset by a peeper puppy with his dick hanging out. More to the point, he knows that it's stupid to develop a sense of modesty all of a sudden when Benrey's seen his dick before. It's just, you know, the size. The scrutiny.

Heat lodges itself in Gordon's face and makes a home there as Benrey brings him all the closer. As if to see him better. "Dinosaurs and zombies," he snorts. He can't believe that's the justification Benrey's giving him. And he can't believe he's buying it.

"Just... fucking, okay. Don't stare, at least," Gordon tells him, as if it will help.

The zipper's nestled in the seam at his neck, right in the center. Gordon fishes it out with shaky fingers. And then, slowly, he drags it down his front.

As he does, his flesh starts to spill from the suit in a creamy sliver. He's paler underneath, skin shielded from the sun for so long that his characteristic tan has all but faded. Consequences of running around in a HEV suit in the middle of Bulgaria. The rattle of the zipper rings in Gordon's ears, louder than life. First his chest, then his stomach, prickling with goosebumps in turn as they're revealed.

Finally, he pulls it down to its endpoint, just under his navel. Gordon's face burns with embarrassment.

> That... was easier than Benrey anticipated. Usually there's more resistance or, you know, playing involved whenever he asked Gordon to do something like that. Usually he had something a little more snide to say. Something in the air has changed, though, and he dimly wonders if maybe all of that advice he'd taken from the Resistors (Resistance? Transistors? Alyx, basically) has actually paid off.

> Learning how to human does, in fact, make interacting with Gordon easier.

> His pupils widen as he stares, mouth slightly agape, as more and more of Gordon's skin is revealed to him, a pretty porcelain color that looks incredibly soft and as delicate as a china doll. Usually he's darker, tanner; Benrey didn't know humans could change colors like that, but it's an interesting development and one that requires further investigation.

> So he leans closer, head tilted, watching the zipper come undone. Curiosity grips him as he gingerly reaches up and hooks his nails into the open edges of the suit and tugs, enough to jostle Gordon and peel away the wrapper but not enough to actually knock Gordon off his feet. As he does so, he ignores the sounds of protests, mouth opening wider and lifting in a sharkish grin.

> He's so pale now, but he's just as soft as Benrey remembers. Just as warm. Hair's still in all the right places, muscles in his arms growing visible as Benrey tugs the sleeves down, then the rest, leaving the top half of the bodysuit dangling from around his still-covered waist.

> He waits a moment, drinking in the sight. He could almost see his--

> No. No. No dick thinking, not now. No. He wasn't going to say anything because he was seriously just trying to be nice. And make Gordon shut up. And...

> And...

> "Cute."

> The word comes out while his brain is still arguing with himself. For a moment, he considers apologizing, or trying to pretend he never said it, but ultimately decides to stand by what he said.

> His eyes lift to rest on Gordon's face as he silently doubles down, waiting for a reply.

"Hey, careful," Gordon yelps, caught off-guard by fingers at the edges of his open suit. "You don't have to fucking-- Benrey, I can do this myself!" But there's no fighting him off before Benrey's tugging it down his shoulders, baring him from the waist up.

Impatient. That's the word that comes to mind. Benrey's itching to get him out of this thing, Gordon realizes. If it wasn't already obvious by that insistent scrape of nails against his jumpsuit, or the way Benrey's looking at him now, eyes wide and mouth parted. That heat in Gordon's cheeks crawls down to his chest. He's staring at Gordon like he's hungry, and all the pasty skin being revealed to him may as well be a juicy T-bone steak. Being half-naked ought to be making him pretty chilly in a place like this, but for some reason, it feels way too fucking hot right now.

Thankfully, Benrey stops there, which gives him a moment to get his bearings. On the other hand, Benrey's calling him fucking cute again, and Gordon was having a bad enough time handling that earlier. Now? Jesus, the guy's barely paying attention to him. Mumbling it like it's an afterthought. He doesn't know what it means.

"I-- I'm not fucking cute, dude, we already established this," he insists, doing his level best not to meet Benrey's stare. Gordon folds his arms, irritable and flushed a bright red. "I'm too mean or whatever. I got the picture. You don't have to keep fucking with me."

> Oh, he's changing colors again. Red now, from the tips of his ears down to his chest, and Benrey snorts a laugh. Of course humans can change colors. He'd seen him do this before. A few times actually.

> But he's just turning red, and being snippy, and he's not making a move to take off the rest of the suit. Benrey's eyes flick from Gordon to the water and, with a low chuckle, he decides to take the cue. Which... was a cue, right? He's pretty sure it's a cue, but humans were weird to begin with and Gordon was odder than most.

> Has to be a cue, he decides after a moment of silence wherein Gordon doesn't budge. He grabs the draping top of the suit and gently peels it downwards towards Gordon's feet, watching it pull away from sweaty, dirty skin. Watching it expose dark curls of hair just below his stomach, and watching Gordon's dick spill out into the open air. Benrey's teeth dig into his lips as he watches, even as his hands move clumsily to strip the rest of the rubbery material off of his legs.

> He's touched that before. Wants to touch it again, wants to say something about it. But he can't because apparently it was bad form to say shit about your best bro's average-but-good meat when he wasn't specifically asking, or at least that's what his stupid, skinny doppelganger had said and--

> God. Wait. No. He shakes his head. Best to focus on anything else.

> What else had the Resist-y Squad said? To listen? Humans liked listening? Even when they were being bitchy little drama-snots?

> Then he should... listen, right? But... what had Gordon said? He wasn't actually paying attention. He furrows his brow and his stare intensifies as he tries to piece together enough of the words he did hear to paint a picture. It takes a moment, but soon, it clicks.

> Oh. Yeah. Not cute. Blah, blah. Something, something "mean."

> Benrey's mouth snaps shut as he struggles to tear his eyes away from Gordon's cock, instead keeping a trained eye on his face. His mind is a machine running on fumes with rattling parts, but he struggles through the distraction. He's going to be reassuring. He's a good friend.

> "Uh... yeah? Mean? Cute? You can be both. Bratty little, ah, Gordon Meanman with his nice... cute. Cute little hog."

> The words come out before he can stop them.

> Goddammit.

Oh, God, okay, so none of what he said got through, clearly. He squawks out as much. Gordon's mind spins into overdrive as Benrey manifestly does not let him take care of it himself, instead peeling the jumpsuit clean off his hips and legs and exposing him from top to bottom. His heart thunders in his chest, and he presses his legs tightly together in a futile attempt at modesty.

"My-- my cute little-- Jesus Christ, Benrey, you can not say shit like like that!" Gordon snaps. He jams his hands between his legs to cover himself, humiliation boiling over.

Fucking Benrey. Always saying the worst possible shit, the most embarrassing shit. Gordon thinks this as furiously as he can, because if he acknowledges that there's anything other than purestrain embarrassment and indignation at play, he's gonna snap like a twig. That's all it is. He's a normal guy, and normal guys don't feel their dicks twitch when their best friend calls their dick cute. And... little. That's worse. Much worse.

The thing that Gordon's still failing to understand is why Benrey's still calling him cute. Yeah, it gets his goat, but it's not like Benrey was in the habit of pulling this shit before. And... And Gordon doesn't know why it's getting to him so much, either.

The first time seemed like a prank. A bad joke. The second time, an accident. And the third - fourth - fifth? The times after that, he's not sure anymore. But each time it gets his skin burning hotter and his heart skipping a beat and Gordon's still pissed off but he's not sure exactly why. (Well, in the general sense. This time, it's because Benrey's straight up insulting his dick, thank you.)

"Why did I even agree to this," he moans, head hanging between his shoulders. "Everything's always gotta be a big fucking ordeal for Gordon. You know what, just put me down if you're gonna-- gonna make fun of my meat or whatever! I'll get myself a bath and then we can go and forget this ever happened."

> There is something about the way Gordon fusses at him that makes Benrey's heart skip a beat, though it also awakens something in the back of his mind that he's been consciously trying to tamp down. The urge to pick at him grows as large as his smile as he hooks two fingers under Gordon's arms and lifts him up and out of his palm like a claw in a skill crane. Words dance on the tip of his tongue, ones better fit for a schoolyard bully, and he rumbles a dark laugh as he contemplates what to say.

> It seems the crack about his hog got him all worked up in a delicious sort of way, judging from the way he's still bright crimson and his dick seems appreciative of Benrey's attention. He could double down on that. Then again, he was supposed to be nice in this situation, wasn't he? He'd been doing so good up until this point, and he could imagine the Resist-y People would be proud if they could see him now.

> But the reaction. It's... it's good. Seeing Gordon's dick twitch, seeing him bright as a tomato, seeing him sweating and nervously dodging his gaze. All were signs that he was interested, that he may just be thinking the same things Benrey has been trying not to think and... fuck, them's good thoughts. Great thoughts.

> Maybe there's a line to walk between. Play the game and still be "nice." Benrey wets his lips and huffs a sweet-scented laugh into Gordon's face, before gently lowering him into the water. The surface of the pool practically sparks as Gordon's bare feet make contact, and a shimmering azure mist billows into the air.

> "Nuh-uh. Nope," Benrey replies with a pop of the p. "You're, uh, tired. Gonna, y'know, get you sparkly. Clean. Squeaky. Pretty. Make you feel so good you'll, uh, wanna buy BFF necklaces after."

> Once Gordon is nestled in the pool, he leans down close and presses down on his shoulders to urge him into a seated position.

> "'Sides, ah. Not making fun. S'nice. Cute. Fun size."

> Emphasis on "fun," Benrey thinks, and his smile widens.

A tingle effervesces across Gordon's skin as Benrey slowly lowers him into the water, something like carbonation but not quite. For one, bubbles aren't nucleating on him so much as drifting toward the surface, sluggish and small. But the effect is as curiously refreshing as a cold glass of Pepsi.

In contrast, the water itself is warm and clear, and the humidity fogs up his glasses in short order. Makes it hard to see Benrey before he's firmly suggesting that Gordon sit down. With his hand. He's not expecting it, and he sinks to his knees with a splash and a quiet "whoa, shit".

Gordon rights himself, sitting back against the edge of the pool. And he opens his mouth to say-- well, something, you know, there was a lot to unpack in whatever the fuck Benrey just said to him, but he barely gets it out before Benrey's talking over him.

Cute. Fun size.

"Stop, okay, just stop talking about my meat! Can we please move on? Any other topic?" He crosses his arms in front of his face.

This is, it's too fucking much, okay, there's-- it's just-- the word was already starting to crawl under his skin, and he's just an average American male! You're not supposed to say this shit to another dude! And you're not supposed to, fucking, swallow and shudder when you hear that shit, either. Not supposed to like being talked down to like that. By... by such a big guy. Who probably does think he's a fun size right now. Probably wants to...

Gordon splashes his face with water. Then he takes off his glasses after the fact, feeling like an idiot. See, this is why he's got to get Benrey to knock it off. Too much. Gets him lost in his own head. Gets his blood pumping. And the last thing he wants is to embarrass himself by looking a gift horse in the mouth, getting a boner when Benrey's just trying to do him a solid.

Well. At least that's what he's saying he's doing. The jury's still out on that one. But either way, the most likely outcome is that Benrey never lets him live it down, and Gordon doesn't know if he can handle the psychological devastation right now. So.

"Here, look, I'll even... okay, so, what is this stuff, anyway? It feels like I'm taking a bath in a... a hot energy drink. But like, in a good way?" He cups some in his hand and lets it spill through his fingers. "Last time I jumped in this stuff, I think it fixed a bone. Is that normal? Weirdest fucking thing I ever felt, man."

> "I 'unno," Benrey answers honestly. Because, well, he doesn't know what this stuff is. Even if he knows a lot about Xen (and would be hard-pressed to tell you exactly how he knows these things), it's not like he knew much more than "this thing will eat you" and "this thing won't." All he knows is that these pools feel good and smell good and do things that are good, and could more than likely get Gordon clean. Make him have a more agreeable scent than the already agreeable people-odor he's already wearing.

> The Gordon smell. It's... a nice smell.

> "It's water. Uh. Bubbles." Benrey dips his fingertips in the pool to wet them and feels the curious, sparkling sensation around his skin; it's warm and cold and fizzy and, honestly? Yeah, kind of refreshing. Like caffeinated Pop Rocks or something. He dimly wonders what it tastes like, but ultimately decides not to drink the bath water.

> "Doesn't matter. You're thinking a lot. About wrong things. Need to focus on, uh, getting you ready. For the ball. Gordo-rella." He pauses, scowling. That was bad even for him. Quickly, he recovers, as if it never happened. "So, quiet? Please? Relax?"

> With that, Benrey extends one wet finger and presses against Gordon's chest, as carefully as he can, working in the glittering water and scrubbing gingerly at his chest hair. He works his muscles with a care he didn't know he possessed, and then maneuvers to his shoulders. He feels Gordon's muscles loosening underneath his touch and it makes him feel... accomplished.

> But his eyes keep straying down, down into the water where Gordon's dick should be, obscured by bubbles and blue. And he exhales, fighting the urge to press a button, to raise him up and see if it's still twitching in anticipation, wondering if he'll see it break the surface and greet him.

> Benrey's eyes screw shut and his fingers still as he takes a moment to force himself to be, as Gordon would say, "normal." It is a foreign feeling.

> He is not a fan.

"G-Gordo-rella?" Gordon bursts out laughing despite himself. "That's so bad, I know you can do better than that!" And the funny thing is, he does know. Benrey's got jokes. He's... good at making Gordon laugh. Even when he's clearly phoning it in.

The laughter sets him at ease for the first time since they'd set out the day before. And when Benrey reaches out to start scrubbing, Gordon flinches, but does as Benrey suggests and eventually relaxes into it.

Benrey's strangely quiet as he does it. Doesn't make any dumb quips. Doesn't start talking about video games or whatever. So Gordon doesn't feel inclined to break the silence, either. The meaner part of him insists that it's just because he doesn't want to set Benrey off on some dipshit tangent, but the truth is, it's kind of nice. The quiet. Even if it's bordering on surreal. All he can hear is the quiet sound of Benrey washing his skin, dipping his fingers into the water. His breathing, measured but heavy. And the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his chest.

The bath itself isn't half-bad, either. He didn't expect Benrey to be this... careful. Not a word Gordon really associates with the guy. But Benrey's fingers work his muscles in tight circles, slow and firm, washing off however many days of sweat and dirt and blood, and Gordon's finds himself melting a little. Letting his eyes drift shut.

He groans when Benrey works his thumb into his back just right, dislodging a knot in the muscle he wasn't even aware of until it was gone. "Oh my God, how did you do that," Gordon breathes.

> Oh. Oh.

> That noise was a... nice one. A pleasant one. One that makes Benrey hesitate for a second and lose his smile before quickly regaining it and pretending he'd never misplaced it in the first place. And he figures Gordon likely didn't notice--his human can't see without the glasses--so he says nothing as he dips his fingers yet again and massages into Gordon's shoulders, exploring every inch and feeling how bizarre every groove and curve is underneath the pad of his finger.

> It's odd, but not a bad odd. The kind of odd that requires further investigation because, while he's had his hands on Gordon before, this feels different. Better, even, in some ways. Motivated by equal parts curiosity and mounting desire, he continues to glide across Gordon's skin and work his muscles and feel them loosen and pause to take in the rapid thudding of Gordon's tiny, tiny pulse against his skin.

> Benrey swallows the Sweet Voice pooling in the back of his mouth. He gags. He coughs into his shoulder. His voice breaks a bit as his normally flat demeanor begins to falter amid a mob of intrusive thoughts that march right into his brain like little soldiers.

> "Can do it 'cause 'm not human. Got magic fingers. Call now. For $19.99, we'll throw in a second one free," Benrey recites, but his eyes are still looking for a hint of cock. But not just that--

> "Limited time offer. Supplies going fast. Better, uh, pick up that phone."

> -- his chest, bits of leg sticking out of the water, that pretty neck, that long hair--

> "Call in, uh, next fifteen minutes and I'll... uh..."

> --that stomach, slightly soft around the middle, and arms that were too strong for somebody of his persuasion--

> "Uh."

> -- every inch that HEV suit wouldn't let him see. Gordon would look so much better in something more... breezy. Clingy. Revealing.

> "Fuck," he says breathily. Something roils inside him, and a lot of it is unfortunately roiling below the belt. So much for subtlety. So much for "nice."

Benrey keeps scrubbing, keeps rubbing his sore muscles between thumbs and index fingers, and it takes a conscious effort for Gordon not to doze off. Even the prickling of fizzy bubbles against his skin fights an upward battle to keep him awake. It's just, he's been on the go for way too long, now, and days of tension are leaching out of him, and Benrey's, like, weirdly good at this. For once, Gordon doesn't have to be thinking about parallel universes and the end of the fucking world or whatever. Somebody else can do the thinking for him.

And then he starts rambling about magic fingers like he's hosting some kind of infomercial and Gordon's laugh comes easier and harder than it has any right to. But Benrey's trailing off now, distracted. Swearing under his breath. Gordon blinks open his eyes and glances up at him.

Despite his lack of glasses, Benrey's big enough (and close enough) that Gordon can make out most of his expression, even if it's fuzzy and indistinct. His mouth hangs open a little, and his brows are knotted up under the cast shadow of his helmet. Like he's thinking about something.

"Free shipping?" Gordon finishes his joke for him. Benrey must have lost his train of thought again. Gordon's mostly used to it... mostly.

He shrugs and rolls his shoulders from side to side, grunting and making small, quiet noises as he stretches. Man, that feels good. There must be something in the water, even if Benrey was, as usual, unhelpful as to what.

Finally, Gordon decides to tug out the band from his hair, spilling it loose over his shoulders. He snaps it around his wrist for safekeeping, then runs his hands through his hair to shake it out.

"Uh. While we're at it. Think you could get my hair later? Like, I don't know where you got the soap from, but I'm assuming you can just, like, magic up some conditioner or something, too."

> Benrey doesn't know how to tell Gordon he didn't actually have soaps. He said so, but he... he didn't. If not for Gordon pointing out that he could "magic" some up, he might have been really stuck, but with a quick shake of his head to bring himself back to his senses, his face lights up once more with a teasing smile and his tone eases back into his typical taunting monotone.

> "Uh. Yeahs. Soaps and, uh, condo-stuff. Got'cha."

> There is a flash of green as he lifts his hand above him (in a dramatic way that he hopes is as cool and impressive as it looks in his head), and feels something slimy manifest in his hands. Slimy and, well, scented like a Glade plug-in. Like flowers and "summer breezes" and things that are a lot more Earth-y than the Sweet Voice. It's a nice color, too, but one that doesn't match how he feels it should look, because it smells more like blue than it does white and...

> ... You know what? It doesn't matter.

> Benrey dips a fingertip in the soap like a child about to paint and, tongue poking out between his teeth once more, sets to work giving Gordon a once-over yet again. He hopes that maybe Gordon won't notice or point out the fact he hadn't even used soap in the first place, as distracted as he was, and just accept the fact that Benrey is once more rubbing his shoulders, his chest, his arms, his legs. Lifting up limbs and maneuvering them to get into hard-to-reach places. Pushing a little firmer than before to feel for that fluttering pulse.

> God, his own heart is beginning to match it beat for beat.

> "Yeah," Benrey mutters at long last as his tongue darts back into his mouth, "I can. Do that. Get your hair."

> His hair. His hair is so pretty when it's down, already having grown out after he cut it in the Bad Ending World. Silky and nice with bits of gray that make him look like he's as smart as he thinks he is--

> No, no. Nice. Nice. He is grappling with the idea of being nice!

> "Get your hair with, uh, real shit. Good shampoo. Actual soaps and stuff that ain't, uh, the stuff. Your stuff. Head and Shoulders. Make you look real good, real nice. Nice for m--uh."

> He pauses. He snaps his mouth shut. He pauses over Gordon's body and thinks for a moment. He wants to say it, he wants to tease and pick and make Gordon flush bright red and play their stupid goddamn game, but now isn't the time. He doesn't think so, at least? Maybe it is?

> Does Gordon think it is? He hopes so, but he doesn't know how to tell. And, apparently, humans didn't like it when their alien best friends played games they didn't want to play.

> "... Mandatory hair inspection," he recovers. "Black Mesa, uh, protocol. Already fucked up the passport. Don't... don't fuck up hair day."

Blood doesn't so much rush to Gordon's face as it crawls, moving as sluggishly as his mind does, processing this. He knows what Benrey was gonna say before he snapped his mouth shut like a mousetrap. Gordon swore he could even hear the teeth click.

Maybe he didn't actually say it, but Gordon's entire system reacts as though he has, because, fucking, he did! For all intents and purposes! A bright, prickling heat surges down his spine that has nothing to do with the water. Why does he talk like that?! Fucking cooing at him, like Benrey's taking some kind of sick pleasure in teasing him in the most embarrassing way possible... but that's about what Gordon expects at this point.

So why did he stop himself?

When Benrey marshals his voice into something more flat and toneless, Gordon frowns. He's... he's really trying, isn't he. Trying to do something decent without turning it into one of their fucked up little games. Some of the mental furniture rearranges itself in Gordon's head, pictures straightened and doorways unjammed.

Unfortunately, all the dusting and clearing in the world can't change the fact that the foundation in his head is wired to make him a paranoid little fucker. And Benrey's always playing some kind of 4th-dimensional chess with him, anyway, right? He's just being rational. Wary.

That said... he's already here. He might as well relax and deal with the consequences later. Especially when... oh.

Benrey's washing him in earnest, fingers pressing into him and manipulating him. They're all over him, probing him without direction, and now Gordon's not sure if "relaxed" is the best descriptor for himself. There's just, there's a lot of touching happening, and Benrey's hands are so, so big, and Gordon can just make out the tip of Benrey's tongue poking through his teeth and something about that intense focus - on him - makes Gordon's breathing go shallow.

Christ. He can't-- He shouldn't think about this. This is the kind of sick shit that only happens in his head, not in real life. Gordon's just a normal guy with something very wrong with him, and that "something" makes him more prone than most to awful little fantasies, intrusive thoughts.

That's all this is. There's gotta be something wrong with him to want somebody ten times his size to touch him like this, but in, like, a horny way. Like some kind of freakjob doing gross shit with an action figure. Maybe it doesn't make him a bad person. So long as he keeps it to himself. He'll keep all his weird little fantasies right next to his heart, and then he'll die. That's that.

It's almost over, Gordon tells himself furiously, willing his blood to stop rushing to his dick and his stomach to stop coiling with heat. If he can just focus, he can will his boner down before he has to get out of the pool and then Benrey will be none the wiser.

"Okay, first of all, I didn't fuck up the passport," Gordon blusters, in an attempt to power through it. "I never needed one before! If anything, I think you fucked up, man. Never told me about Black Mesa Picture Day or whatever."

> Benrey's fingers do not pause as Gordon fusses at him, but his eyes can't stay focused on his own work. He's too busy watching Gordon's throat bob as he swallows around a lump, or how his blush is darkening and spreading. He's gauging the look in his eyes, looking for any indication that he can go ahead and make it weird, but--even though he's sweating and nervous and fidgety and acting just like he does when they're playing--Benrey is too nervous to make a move.

> And "nervous" wasn't a part of his vocabulary until that Alyx lady and Gordon's own downhill slide made it obvious that he actually had to think human to interact with humans. His human specifically.

> So, even though he sees the signs, he decides to bite his tongue. It is foreign, it is uncomfortable, and it's almost painful to choke down. To redirect his alien brain into more terrestrial channels. To try to figure out what a human person would do in his situation and, barring that, just continuing to do what he was supposed to be doing in the first place.

> Bathing Gordon.

> "Shouldn't have to tell you. S'in the, ah, employee handbook. Welcome packet. Folder. Right next to Warhammer 401k and, uh, ensure-ants."

> He cups a small amount of water in his palm and trickles it over Gordon's body, watching it drain down his form in sparkling rivulets. They trace his contours, weaving into every nook and cranny and crease that Benrey couldn't reach, and he watches them with an intensity that even he can feel. A warmth in his gut, a twitch of his dick. His tongue laps at his lips like a hungry animal; he wants to lick every droplet off of Gordon and explore ever inch of him as thoroughly as the bathwater.

> But... no. No, no. He's normal. He's normal and human and he's being nice, and Gordon hasn't said anything so he's going to close his eyes, huff angrily, and then continue on his merry way.

> "Everyone knows about, uh, Hair Inspection Day. And Passport Inspection. You, ah, you're just... uh."

> Benrey breathes heavily out of his nose as his eyes lock on Gordon yet again. Staring up at him, red-faced. Hair now adhered to his skin from the water. Chest heaving. He reaches out in spite of himself and presses a fingertip to Gordon's torso once more, feeling that rapid pulse and feeling it rise and fall with each breath. Knowing he could make Gordon's heart race faster and really put his lungs to work.

> He wants to feel him pant, wants to hear each heavy breath accompanied with his name and...

> No. God, it's getting so fucking hard to resist the game, but Benrey is good! Good for his best friend! He's learned and he's going to stay good. He's just being nice. He can be nice without being--

> "Missed a spot," Benrey lies as he pulls his finger away. He pretends to rinse Gordon off once more and sputters a cough. "Now, let's get those, ah, locks. Clean and brushed. Shiny. Barbie Girl, Barbie World, am I right?"

Gordon ducks his head instinctively as Benrey douses him with water, shielding his face. There's a huff from above him, and then another, breath hot and heavy on Gordon's neck. The closest comparable experience is... it's like being trapped under some kind of big fucking animal. A bear, maybe, snorting at the nape of his neck before it decides to eat him. Violently.

Cool. He loves thoughts like that. A pleasant reminder that they don't exactly carry fucking risperidone in the aftermath of a fascist takeover.

He shakes his head again to rid himself of it, then looks at Benrey in surprise when he presses a fingertip to his chest. It just rests there, warm and steady. Not pulling or pinching or shoving or any of the things Gordon expects. Gears whir to life in his head. Benrey's being-- he's being kind of fucking weird, but not in the ways Gordon's grown accustomed to, and when he's spent the entirety of their working relationship trying to get his sea legs, it throws him off just as badly when the boat stops rocking.

"I don't know how to tell you this, but it's not just Barbies who have to wash their hair," Gordon snorts at him. "You got me all worried now, man, I don't even know if you know the basics. It's shampoo, then conditioner, okay?"

After a moment, he slicks his hair back out of his face, too. For good measure. "And try not to get it in my eyes, either... Actually, uh, I'm kind of having second thoughts about this. Maybe you should just let me handle it. No offense."

> "Know what I'm doin'. I got hair. Nice hair. Better than... uh, Mr. 2-in-1," Benrey protests, masking the sudden wave of panic that just roiled up inside of him. Just the idea of not touching Gordon is too much, and he inwardly crinkles at the thought of missing his chance to feel his human again. And again. And again. Petting and scrubbing and massaging and imagining what it would be like to get Gordon close enough to his face that he could taste him.

> But... he can't do that. He's not allowed. This isn't The Game. This is A Nice Favor for His Person and, well, he's got to be normal. And chill. And calm. And this is all really too fucking hard.

> However, as long as he plays by the rules, he still gets a chance to touch Gordon, and he supposes that is a small victory. It's what spurs him on to press his thighs together and shift his weight to hide his burgeoning boner behind the Xenian island so that Gordon can't be alarmed or scandalized or angry or accusatory. It's what prompts him to summon from the ether, yet again, a new supply of nice-smelling soaps and an equally pleasant conditioner that still don't match the color his brain tells him they should be.

> And, with fangs pressed into his bottom lip, he dips his finger into the shampoo freshly spawned in his palm and swirls it gently, watching as Gordon regards him with a mixture of curiosity and what he hopes isn't disdain. He's been working so hard to try to not make the guy angry, and he's struggling not to slip.

> Slowly, he drips a dollop of soap onto Gordon's head--towards the back, since he is honestly trying to obey the request not to blind him--followed by a few drops of glittering, warm water. He monitors the way Gordon's expression changes as he presses against his head as gently as he can and begins to work it into a lather.

> It's... nice. It's not the usual rough stuff and bullying he's used to, but there is something undeniably pleasant about watching Gordon melt into his touch as he works, careful and light, his body rocking with the movements in a way that makes Benrey feel both strangely aroused and, well... warm. As warm as the pool of water, all on the inside like a badly heated burrito. It's new, and uncomfortable, but not unwelcome, and he savors it by trying to make the moment stretch.

> From the scalp and downwards, until his finger is stroking the side of Gordon's cheek and reaching under his chin as if trying to tilt his head up for a kiss he was way too big to give. Like a true romantic that he knew, in his gut, he wasn't actually anywhere close to being. But it felt right, and the dazed and pleasant look in Gordon's eyes shatter the alien armor around his heart in one powerful blow.

> Benrey swallows hard and says nothing. He just scrubs and stares. And scrubs. And stares.

> Slow, precise, delicate circles. Enjoying the moment, and buying time as he tries to untangle this utterly alien knot of feelings that is twisting around in his gut. Feelings he isn't sure he understands or particularly wants, but addictive all the same.

"Oh, that's kinda nice, actually," Gordon mumbles distantly, as Benrey starts to lather up his hair.

It's impressive, honestly, just how delicate Benrey's capable of being when he puts his mind to it. The pressure's firm enough that it feels good against his scalp, but he's not being knocked around or given a headache or anything. It's... pleasant. His eyes drift shut again, now that he's pretty sure Benrey's got the hang of it.

That finger slips lower, lower, stroking the side of Gordon's jaw, and Gordon leans into it. Lets him work soap into the underside of his facial hair. (And that's nice, too. It's the kind of thing he figured Benrey would miss.) And if Benrey rubs a bit slower, tilts his head up just a little so that Gordon has to peer up at him through slowly-blinking eyes, well, he's not going to complain.

Benrey's eyes are so big, so close to his and so intently focused that-- that he's sweating a little, just visible at the edge of Gordon's vision. Gordon's heart beats faster, and a strange tension begins to wind itself tight in him. It's like Benrey's trying to scan him. All that attention focused directly on him gins up butterflies in his stomach.

Gordon's suddenly hit by the awareness that nobody's done anything like this for him in a long, long time. Maybe ever. And here he is, letting his frenemy (best frenemy, whispers an annoying little voice that sounds suspiciously like Benrey) scrub him clean. Take care of him. How in the fuck did he end up here? And, more importantly, why is he so comfortable with this? This is the guy who got his arm cut off, not, fucking, not his live-in girlfriend. That broke up with him a couple years ago, citing the fact that he was "a puffed-up MIT asshole". Whatever. Details.

After a long stretch of silence, Gordon breaks it by saying, "I, uh, I think that's good. Yeah. Lemme just..."

And he pushes Benrey's finger away before ducking his head under the water, hoping Benrey doesn't notice the way his voice cracks.

> It... almost feels like he's being spurned when his finger is pushed away. There's a quaver in Gordon's voice and he isn't sure if it's nerves or rejection. In an instant, a long-dormant part of Benrey's brain flares to life, leaving him mentally bouncing theories as to why his person had sounded so off. It could have been that he was having the same sorts of thoughts Benrey had been having the whole time, or it could have been that he had done something wrong. Getting advice on how to handle Gordon came with the unpredictable side effect of giving him a lot to worry about in terms of "boundaries" and "behaving," which he honestly wasn't comfortable or keen on dealing with.

> These insecurities melt away as he watches Gordon duck under the water, however. It creates a hiccup in the system, a blue screen that necessitates a reboot. There's something distracting about the way his back arches forward, muscles moving, head dipping beneath the surface. On his knees, ass lifting up slightly so he has a touch more leverage. Hair floating to the top, and then clinging tightly to his skin as he emerges with a gasp and throws his head back and slicks it out of his face and...

> ... His face is dripping. Sopping. Water trailing from his mouth and down his beard. Running down his temples, his cheeks. Like sweat. Like... something else.

> "Holy shit," Benrey mutters with the barest hint of voice. He pauses, he tries to think of something to say that would mask the fact he's not being "normal," and he's been playing The Game the whole time, regardless of what he's been telling himself. The hamster is running, the gears are whirring, but Windows is still updating and he's at a loss for anything better to say.

> So he doubles down. His voice grows louder.

> "Holy shit."

Gordon winches his eyes shut as he wipes water from them, slinging his hair back out of his face for good measure. God, he can feel how much less greasy it is now, and it's like taking off an itchy sweater for the first time. Makes him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, man, that's honestly really... uh..."

He slows to a stop, thrown off by Benrey muttering something. Almost inaudible. It gets him to crane his neck to look up at Benrey properly, about to ask, before Benrey says it again. Louder. Okay, yeah, he did catch that right the first time, huh.

Even though he's out of focus, Gordon can still see how wide his eyes are. How slack his face is. He doesn't need the finer details to notice Benrey's hand hovering in midair, like he's been interrupted in the middle of a thought. Staring at him like... like...

Heat crashes over Gordon in a violent wave, from the crown of his head to the pit of his belly. He's not even-- he's not even doing anything. He's sopping wet, and he can't fucking stand the way his hair looks when it's laying flat and slick against his head like this, and he can't exactly hide all the unseemly scars and and stretch marks and soft spots and all the other issues he's poked at in the mirror time and time again. (He had a growth spurt as a teenager, okay, and stretching him out an extra foot and a half so quickly didn't give his skin a lot of time to adapt.)

In short, he feels more naked and exposed now, half-covered by the foamy surface of this shallow pool, than he did when Benrey had him in his palm with his entire dick out. And it makes Gordon fucking throb under the surface of the water.

He's gotta be making fun of me, Gordon desperately tells himself. Defense mechanism. It's not working as well as it usually does, and he subconsciously presses his thighs tighter together.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, suddenly dry despite the water carding down his face.

"What," starts Gordon. But he doesn't know where to take that question, and it dies as quick as it came.

> Game over. It's done. Benrey's used his final life and lost it in a valiant attempt to beat the final boss, but now he's gawking down at Gordon who is gawking right back up at him with a tell-tale look on his face that makes Benrey almost positive that he's playing just as hard. His own breath quickens as once complicated thoughts congeal into something more comfortable, something more streamlined, something more natural.

> Something that Alyx would have been disappointed to hear, especially after how good he had been doing.

> He inhales sharply through his nose and leans in close, the air coming back out at a low laugh as his mouth twists into a hungry grin. A finger extends and he presses it against the side of Gordon's face, an almost loving stroke. He can feel a burst of heat in his cheeks and he knows, glasses or not, that Gordon can probably see how red he's getting. He shifts his legs as he floats beside the island, trying to accommodate a cock that is now frighteningly hard and twitching against his stomach.

> "What 'what?'" Benrey asks, his voice monotonous but still somehow teasing. "Can't a bro, uh, admire his bro? Have a look-see? Look nice. Pretty."

> His finger drops to the water and stirs it a bit, creating a roil of bubbles that send a pleasant, tingling sensation up his hand, his arm. It seems to travel straight to his heart, which is pounding furiously in his chest.

> "You, uh... you good? Need anymore help? Getting clean? Hard to reach places?"

> A pause. He feels his stomach twist into knots. This has never really happened before while playing this game, but it's powerful. Makes him feel desperate. Needy. Makes him feel guilty and he hates it because he never feels guilty.

> As quickly as the mask breaks, he picks up the pieces and puts them back together. He slides it back on. He takes a deep breath, fumbling with his words.

> "Want to, uh... pla... pretty? Want to pretty? Want best friend Benrey to make you, uh, cleaner? Prettier? Help you? Please? Thank-you."

Two paths emerge before Gordon. On the one, well-worn and well-lit, he would tell Benrey, "No thanks, I'm good," and he would tell Benrey to turn around so he can dry off and crawl back into the jumpsuit. And then he would let Benrey fit him in the armor again, trying his best to ignore those fingers on his skin, and later he would duck away and jerk himself raw thinking about it. Swearing at himself. Wishing he could be normal for once in his fucking life and not develop questionable new fantasies about the one guy who's as out of place in this world as he is.

On the other, bracketed by brambles and dark, uncharted woods, Gordon would... He would...

He'd get it through his head that he's not the only little fucking weirdo in this relationship. That Benrey keeps staring at him like that for a reason.

And that Benrey's trying so fucking hard to play nice because... well... Gordon hasn't wrapped his head around that one yet, but he has his suspicions. Some of them more worrying than others. But the point is, Benrey's not taking the bait. He's got Gordon in a highly vulnerable position, and he could be pushing Gordon around if he wanted, playing their little game and driving him up the wall.

But he isn't. He keeps choking it back. It's unsettling. Gordon doesn't know how to handle it. He kind of wishes, in the back of his mind, that Benrey would tack on his 'schoolyard bully' demeanor again. At least that Gordon understands on some level. Push, pull, tussle.

And most unsettling of all is that downright tender way that Benrey drags a finger along his cheek. Anxiety thrums to life in Gordon's blood. No, no, that's not-- This is weird. This is so weird. There's something roiling and ugly churning in his stomach, and he doesn't like it one bit. He's not coping with it, he needs to-- to wrangle this situation, get some control over it, steer it back to familiar territory.

And in doing so, Gordon floors it directly into the woods.

He looks back at Benrey, taking in the hot flush crawling up his skin. The awkward shifting. I'm not the only freak here, Gordon reminds himself, blood pounding in his ears.

So he shifts himself. Sits back, draws his legs up so that his knees peek out of the water. Lets them fall to the sides, just a little. And he says, tucking a strand of wet hair behind his ear,

"What, and you're not even gonna-- That's some low-hanging fruit you're leaving on the vine. Startin' to get worried about you, man. You haven't gone this long without making fun of me in... uh, ever."

> Wait. Was that...?

> Was that admission?

> Benrey's pupils grow wide at the words, and his smile threatens to falter as he feels the cogs creaking inside of his head. Connecting the dots with all the newfound information he has on human people is like doing the advanced science stuff Gordon seemed to believe he was so special for knowing. There's emotional equations, rechecking the data, counter-arguments for every theory he comes up with, but in the end a little lightbulb flickers to life. The lights are on, somebody is home, and by god does that somebody want to play ball already.

> Benrey's finger stills on Gordon's cheek and he feels an uncharacteristic lump grow in his throat as his face grows redder and sweat beads at his brow. That weird emotion that once wrapped itself around its siblings, Worry and Guilt, finally cut itself loose and tangles itself in his stomach. He doesn't like it--it's too warm, and it's not the horny kind of heat that he's used to--but he allows it to stay. It feels like it may turn into something good if he just lets it incubate.

> "Uh, what? Not gonna... huh?"

> Benrey's voice cracks just like Gordon's had a moment before. He pretends it never happened and seamlessly continues.

> "Not gonna, ah, make fun of you. Gonna... gonna pick that fruit, though."

> His finger trails down Gordon's chin, down his neck, across his shoulders, down his chest. It rests dangerously low on his belly, threatening to dip lower. He grins at Gordon, leans in close, and huffs a laugh that's less malicious than it is honestly amused with its own cleverness.

> "Uh, get it? Fruit? Picked? You're, ah, you're the fruit, bro."

> A pause.

> "Laugh, please."

Gordon swallows, hard. The implications hit him like a bowling ball. That somebody's dropping on him. Maybe from an overpass or something. He's spinning out a little, alright, and losing his grip on the metaphor.

Benrey's fingertip leaves goosebumps in its wake, and his breathing goes shallow as the nail lightly catches on the crook of his neck. Lower, lower, slipping just below the surface of the water to rest on his belly, and Gordon thanks every deity he can imagine (and some he can't) that the bubbles hide... well. This, feeling it throb where it lies heavy against his hip.

Despite himself, he does actually laugh when Benrey prompts it. It comes out high and way louder than he intended, but still. Now that's a metaphor he's got a good grasp on, he thinks wildly. Oh, Christ.

"That's-- that's not really what I meant," Gordon tries to argue, but not with very much conviction. "But, uh, ha ha! Great joke! Fucking love jokes, man!"

> Benrey doesn't really hear what Gordon is saying. He does know that tone, though, from times they've played The Game before. It's a tone that speaks of permission, a sort of polite denial without the force. The kind of arguing that Benrey knows he can get away with ignoring because it's not sincere. Game talk. A challenge.

> Their own secret language of want.

> "Thank-you," Benrey purrs when Gordon forces a laugh, and his finger rubs a slow, slow circle into Gordon's stomach. He's sure Gordon notices when it bumps a bit too low, because he can feel something tell-tale just beneath the surface of the water. His grin grows at the realization that he was on the right track, tongue slipping out from between his teeth and running along his lips. A show, given to Gordon.

> A show he desperately wants Gordon to notice is meant for him. A tech demo. A promise.

> "But, uh... if that ain't what you meant. What did you mean? 'Cause you seem to be enjoyin' this, best friend."

A noise threatens to burst from Gordon's chest when Benrey starts to rub, slow and insistent, and grazes against-- Oh, God. But he clamps his lips tight, and all that escapes him is a harsh puff of air through his nose. He knows now, he knows, and it's written all over his face, a raised eyebrow and a smug smile and the slow, deliberate movement of his tongue over his lower lip.

It's fucking cartoonish, is what it is. Gordon should laugh. Gordon does laugh, again, another nervous little titter that doesn't communicate "amusement" so much as "flustered hysteria".

"I don't know," he blurts out, and it's the most honest thing he's said all day. "Fucking, God, I'm not-- This isn't what it looks like, okay, you just-- you keep looking at me like that, and I don't know what your fucking game is, man!"

He can't look at Benrey, not right now, not when he knows Benrey's looking at him like that, and so he looks down and oh, no, that's a bad idea. Because Benrey's still drawing tight little circles into his skin, unnervingly gentle. And so Gordon's eyes keep darting around, finding nowhere suitable to land.

At least Benrey's taking the bait. He's not doing that weird sappy shit anymore, and Gordon's in more familiar territory: the push and pull. The teasing. So he pulls harder, in hopes that Benrey will knock it off for good.

"If anybody's 'enjoying this', it's you, buddy! I'm just a, uh, innocent bystander, you know?"

> He doesn't sound convincing. There's fractures in his voice, and his words are stumbling like they fell down the stairs. He's looking everywhere but at Benrey, his face red and his eyes nervously darting from thing to thing to thing. But, in the end, they always come back to him, in one way or another.

> It's tells like this that let Benrey know that he's playing. The Game is afoot, he's been given the go-ahead. It's time to take the ball and run.

> "Uh-huh. Sure. Innocent. Lessee what you're hidin', bro."

> And with that, Benrey removes his finger from Gordon's stomach, instead parting his fingers into a V-shape and hooking Gordon underneath his arms. It's like a claw in a skill crane and, with a snort, he lifts Gordon out of the water. Naked, wet, and standing at attention from the looks of it; his human apparently had been playing along a lot longer than Benrey knew. He watches Gordon dangling a few feet from the pool at the end of his hand and smirks.

> But there's something different now, isn't there? Something Benrey sees in his human that makes that weird feeling he's been fighting twirl and twist. He's barely even noticing Gordon's boner more than he's looking at the way his hair is clinging to his face, and the way his eyes are flicking up at him expectantly, and how warm and small and cute he looks. He looks delicate and handsome and he wants to touch him, but he wants to touch all of him, and his heart is thumping so hard he starts to worry because... fuck. Is he dying? Is Gordon killing him just by being cute?

> Benrey swallows hard. He hopes his expression didn't falter. He broadens his grin in case it did, until the muscles in his cheeks honestly hurt. And he inhales deeply and forces a mocking laugh and squeezes his fingers around Gordon gently in an attempt to further mock him.

> "I 'unno, bro. Looks like you're, uh... you're carrying without a permit. That's... uh, an infract... fracta... infection. You're a bad boy, aren't'cha?"

Gordon yelps as those fingers hook under his arms and drag him out of the water. Oh, God, his legs are kicking out from underneath him, and his hands scrabble at Benrey's, and Benrey's just smirking at him all up close and personal and he's fucked, he's really, really fucked. His fucking dick bobs in the air like-- like-- he doesn't know, he doesn't have a simile for this! Gordon's never been in this situation before! But bob it does, until he comes to a stop right in front of Benrey's face.

"It's infraction, dude!" Gordon snaps, his mind jumping to the least important thing Benrey said. "Fucking 'infraction'! And I don't-- I don't know what you expect when you're all, fucking--"

He's cut off by a gasp when Benrey squeezes him, just a little. Makes Gordon keenly aware of those big fingers. He can just... he can do whatever he fucking wants, huh? Pick Gordon up like it's nothing? Wrap those fingers around him, so big and hot and rough against his skin, and move all his limbs around just like he was doing earlier and--

And--

Gordon blinks, coming back to himself. Face hot. Mouth dry. And Benrey's grin looks impossibly wider.

"You know," he finishes weakly.

> "Maybe I do," Benrey responds, jostling Gordon lightly. "Maybe I don't. Maybe you should tell me, bro. When I'm all fuckin' what?"

> He lifts Gordon higher, and closer. Really gets a good look at him, leaning in and running his tongue along his jagged teeth. Like a predator, like something that wants to swallow Gordon whole, though that's the last thing on his mind. He wants to taste Gordon, that's for sure, but there's... there's more to it.

> He wants to reel him in. Follow this weird feeling. Press his lips against Gordon and--

> Benrey inhales sharply through his nose. Gordon smells positively delicious. Like something fruity and sweet and earthly. And he looks delicious, too, all soft and supple and soaked to the bone, smooth skin glistening in the alien lights.

> His dick twitches, straining against his pants. He's so hard it hurts. He wonders if Gordon can see, but can't imagine he can miss it.

> "C'mon," he teases, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Tell me what I am, bro. Tell best friend Benrey what's on your mind. Bonding experience. Bros being bros."

He wrenches his eyes shut, breath coming harder and faster despite his efforts to control it. When Benrey fucking talks like that, he can't help it, okay? All-- all smug and condescending and all the shit that should get under his skin-- and does, yeah, it drives him up the wall, but. But. There must be something wrong with him, Gordon thinks desperately. Something warped in the fabric of his mind that makes a shiver race down his spine.

Then he feels warm breath puffing against his face, and he opens his eyes again. Just in time to see a broad tongue run across sharp, sharp teeth. A naked suggestion. Gordon's mouth falls open a little and hangs there, stunned speechless.

Until Benrey mutters, c'mooon, voice low and heated in a way that goes straight to Gordon's belly. And his dick twitches in the open air, fully visible this time. Fuck.

"You're," he starts, staring at his own fingertips, where they're digging into Benrey's hand.

God, this is humiliating! And he should, he should tell Benrey to fuck off and put him down, but he doesn't. That same warp in his fabric goes all the way down to his autonomic nervous system. Heart racing, blood pumping, pupils dilating and sweat beading and every other unconscious reaction he can't wrangle into submission.

Because he wants to be wrangled into submission.

Okay, Christ! He gets it! He doesn't need the color commentary from his own fucking brain!

Gordon takes a deep breath to steel himself, and then he starts again, choked and hesitant, "When you're... God, fucking, touching me and breathing on me and shit, man! Like you'd be doing any better if you had somebody's big fucking hands all over you! Okay?"

As soon as the words leave him, a fresh wave of embarrassment crests and crashes over him. Stupid, stupid, he shouldn't have said it.

> Oh. Well. That was new. Usually, there's a bit more arguing, a bit more resistance, a bit more of Benrey getting called things like "weirdo" and "freak" before they have a good "haha" about it and touch dicks. But Gordon is being so earnest and honest and talking about how he's touching him, about big hands, about doing this same thing to Benrey (sort of talking about it, anyway), and...

> ... And Benrey feels... wanted? Was that the word? Wanted?

> Yeah. He feels wanted.

> And that foreign, alien, hot-cold emotion twisting inside of him balloons and explodes, and there is a sudden, pulse-pounding sensation of want and warmth that courses through his body like a poison. He can feel drool pooling under his tongue and he swallows hard, his smile fading into something more earnest as he tries to maintain a mocking, bullying stare. Tries to keep his head in the game.

> Their game.

> "Oh. You, uh. You like it when I breathe on you? Fuckin'... secret alien power. Uh, blow dryer." He pauses and chuckles. "Heh. Blow."

> He inches Gordon closer to his face, and the closer he brings him, the more he can feel the little bit of warmth radiating off of him. Welcoming him. Blazing hot, like he is on the inside, and flushed so red he looked burned. And that warm, weird, unwelcome emotion surges again as he lets out a sigh and sits Gordon in his palm, plopping him down unceremoniously like a captured bug.

> Only he's not watching him with a childlike curiosity. He's really examining him, trying to wiggle the wrench out of the gears in his brain. With some effort, he pops it loose, and the words pour out of his mouth without any restraint.

> "Bet'cha you'd like it if I, uh... dried you off. Gentle breeze. Pick a scent. Have eight exciting flavors. Blue. Watermelon. Other blue. Tropical, uh, kiss."

> Even he isn't sure why he stressed that last word. The weird emotion spoke for him.

> His mouth snaps shut.

> Awkward.

Whatever Gordon was expecting, it wasn't "being dropped buck-naked onto Benrey's palm". His legs splay out in front of him, and he instinctively tries to draw his knees up. Doesn't change the fact that he's got his boner out in front of God and everybody.

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Despite himself, he bursts out laughing. He does his best to choke it back down. "You really, uh, gotta work on your dirty talk, man."

Gordon doesn't manage to catch himself before he all but admits that, yeah, that was dirty talk. This is a situation where Benrey should be trying to talk dirty to him. It's breaking the rules a little. Breaking kayfabe. But it's hard to resist bringing it up when Benrey's trying to get him hot by talking about blowing on him like a spoonful of soup.

Then he actually thinks about what Benrey said. Tropical kiss. That's not-- that's not anything. That's not real. Benrey's just talking about kissing him, in whatever weird fucking roundabout way he usually does. A small part of him softens. It's... almost cute. If he were inclined to ever describe Benrey that way. Which he isn't.

But Gordon plays along anyway. "What are you talking about? Scents? Dude, I smelled your breath earlier, and lemme tell you, it wasn't any kind of fucking tropical kiss."

> "Uh, no. S'one of the other flavors," Benrey responds indignantly, façade breaking for a moment. "That flavor was, uh... Glade Plug-in."

> As he speaks, he reels Gordon in closer, sitting in his palm and still sopping wet. He looks so small, so delicate, so... cute, and the thought makes his heart flutter again. It grabs his tongue and twists it into an awkward knot that takes a moment to untie. He works fast, hoping to save face. Get back in the game.

> But it's hard. Harder than before, and as Gordon stares at him expectantly, he's suddenly floundering. While he is externally stiff, flat, and monotonous, on the inside he is scrambling to pick up his scattered index cards during a speech. He wants to play, but he wants to taste. He wants to stroke Gordon's head as much as his dick and he doesn't know why. He wants to say something naughty and nice all at the same time and...

> "Lemme, uh. Demo. Demon-stray-shun," Benrey says, interrupting his own thoughts. "Tropical kiss. Free sample. Here we go."

> And with that, he brings Gordon to his mouth. He presses the smaller man into his lips, a small and chaste kiss being planted in the first place he can reach: Gordon's throat. Only it's... not just his throat. It's basically his whole shoulder, and throat, and beneath his jaw. He practically envelops him, could literally swallow him if he wanted to, but pulls away and snorts a laugh as though this spontaneous act was premeditated as a joke.

> He sounds unconvincing.

> Even more so when he chuckles, "See? Coconut. Sea breeze. Lime. Seagulls. All the classic smells."

Lips press against Gordon's skin before he's fully prepared for it, and he lets out a surprised little sound. Jaw and throat alike find themselves enveloped, a heat and softness and moisture the likes of which he's never felt quite like this. And then it's over. Gordon's still left dizzily processing this as Benrey draws back.

"Did you just kiss me?" Gordon asks, stupidly. He touches a hand to his jaw, where there's a hint of moisture lingering.

The longer Gordon thinks about it, the more disoriented he becomes. Benrey's never kissed him like that before. All, fucking, sweet and tender. Those aren't words in his vocab. Like, yeah, sure, they've kissed before, but only in frantic, snarling bursts. This is strange and new.

But... at the same time... that's not all it is, is it. At this scale, chasteness is impossible. Gordon's so small in his hand, wet and splayed like some kind of foal, and those hands could wrap around every inch of him at once just to touch him. Lips, kissing wide swathes of skin. Hot breaths of air forced through Benrey's nose and spurring the hairs on the back of Gordon's neck to stand up. The unpleasant realization that Benrey is very, very big, and could probably just swallow Gordon whole if he so chose. You know. Normal things to worry about.

But he doesn't. He just lets Gordon go with a kiss. And Gordon flushes up to his ears, still a little dumbstruck.

> That was... new. That wasn't like the lust-fueled, rushed kisses he'd given Gordon while trying to get fingers around his cock, but it wasn't bad. It was something that scratched an itch he didn't know he had, something that made his lips tingle, something that milked an incredibly good feeling out of that foreign emotion swirling inside of him. It's intoxicating in a way human substances never could quite pull off, and Benrey feels an addiction already forming.

> It takes him a moment to realize that Gordon has spoken. It's just a tiny sound to his colossal ears, one he nearly misses from the full-body throb of lust and affection. It's not just his dick anymore. His heart is thundering against every bone, every inch of skin, and he feels almost overwhelmed. Again, like he's dying. This is new, it's intense.

> He wets his lips and furrows his brow, and with a surprising amount of clarity, rattles, "Yeah... uh. I guess I did, huh?"

> His tongue continues to run over his lips. His teeth. His eyes dart to Gordon. He's struggling to play the game properly, but there's a sudden bout of nerves involved. He can't help but wonder if this is how Gordon feels all the time, and the realization clonks him like a clawhammer.

> If this is how Gordon feels all the time, then no wonder he's always such a mess. It's latching onto his jaw and holding it shut like an invisible muzzle, it's pumping him full of drugs that don't exist, it's making him feel small despite being absolutely batshit levels of huge. And, it feels like he's learning... god, what had Alyx called it? Empathy? He's not sure how much he likes it, but it mingles well with the now-welcome warmth following the kiss in a way that feels positively, cathartically self-destructive.

> Benrey coughs. He doesn't laugh. He doesn't tease. He looks to Gordon with an intensity even he's surprised he can pull off.

> "You, uh. Like it? Wan' another one? I got, uh, plenty. Warehouses full. Best Friend Special. BOGO."

Gordon watches Benrey's tongue slide over his teeth like it's in slow motion, a reminder of what lies just underneath the surface. And he freezes under the intensity of Benrey's stare, anticipatory sweat beading on his forehead.

"What, you mean you want to..." He trails off with a nervous laugh. "C'mon, man, put me down! I know you get a kick out of, fucking, making fun of me or whatever, but I don't know what you're getting out of this!"

> Unfortunately, Benrey knows exactly what he was getting out of this. A feeling, strong and tingly that's now full of a primal need that he understands quite a bit better. And, beyond that, he was getting permission. Full permission in every movement Gordon made, every lilt of his voice, every glance up at him that was filled with a hunger that his human never got quite got the hang of voicing. It's a look that Benrey knows good and well, though, from the other time they've played their little games.

> He says nothing. He just smiles, moves Gordon to his mouth again, and pushes his lips gently against his collar bone, though it stretches down to his chest. He can feel Gordon's nipple brush against the corner of his lip, hair brushing against his mouth, the taste of the strange, glittering water and skin as he parts his lips and rumbles a laugh into Gordon.

> He pulls away. He maneuvers his human. He presses his mouth against him again, brushing his stomach with a feather-light kiss that nearly encompasses his dick. He can feel it pressing against him, feel it twitch as he pokes a tongue out between his teeth and presses the very tip into his soft flesh.

> His eyes angle up to Gordon's in a silent bid for a sign. The lick intensifies, nimbly avoiding the cock poking at the very corner of his mouth.

> He continues to say nothing. He has a feeling he doesn't have to. Gordon isn't the only one who can get away with communicating silent intent in their back-and-forth.

Of course Benrey's not gonna answer him. Of course Benrey's just gonna grin at him - like an asshole - and kiss him again, lips soft against his chest. Right over his heart. It's cartoonish, is what it is. And, unfortunately, it's also more ticklish than Gordon expects, and he snorts aloud.

"What are you doing? You're being weird, dude."

When Benrey laughs back at him, his huffed breath ruffles Gordon's body hair, and it just makes that whole "sensitivity" problem worse. Gordon tries to choke down a giggle and fails. Despite himself, it's... it's nice. He almost feels light-headed.

And then Benrey's doing it again, a soft kiss against his middle, shifting him bodily into position, and Gordon laughs again, shoving at his face. Playful. Roughhousing. Their usual.

And again. "That-- That tickles, man, c'mon!"

And again, hot against his belly. Mouth parted. Benrey's chin grazes his dick, which he'd all but forgotten about in his reflexive urge to kick Benrey away. A peal of laughter bleeds into a gasp. All the worse when Gordon feels the wet-hot tip of a tongue push into his skin.

Oh God. It feels just like he thought it would. In that dream, that fucking dream, the one he can't get out of his mind. The one that's made Gordon look twice every time Benrey grins at him, teeth sharp and glossy. He freezes, afraid even to breathe too heavily and press himself all the more against Benrey's tongue.

"What are you doing," he asks again, this time less of a playful rebuff and more of a high squeak. Then it's hotter, wetter, more of the broad side of Benrey's tongue flattening against him, and his dick twitches, hard.

Fuck.

> Alyx would be disappointed, Benrey thinks. He was doing so good and playing so nice, and now he's licking a hot, wet stripe across Gordon's belly, feeling the hairs and skin against his tongue, teeth barely grazing against sensitive flesh. But, he knows things she doesn't and will never know, about the game and the language that he and Gordon have built. He squeaks in defiance, but with a tone that shows only polite refusal: Oh, I couldn't possibly, but if you insist.

> Gordon isn't pressing against his face. He isn't pushing him away. He isn't snarling and cursing, and he hasn't made any move to extricate himself. He's parting his legs invitingly, his voice is getting higher in want and anticipation, and his dick is so hard. As hard as Benrey's, to be honest, and twitching almost as if its beckoning.

> "What'm I doing?" Benrey purrs, and he can see Gordon's body tremble at the way it rumbles through him. "M'helpin'. S'what best friends do."

> With that, his jaw opens wide, his tongue slithering out and the tip dipping lower. Low enough to catch his cock, his legs, the entire bottom of his stomach. It presses hard against Gordon and then creeps upward before coiling up politely behind Benrey's jagged smile. Drool pools at the corner of his lips and he swipes it away with his spare hand.

> He opens his mouth and dives back in again, the faintest hint of flesh and salt and soap and glittering, sweet Xen water dancing across his tongue. It fills him with another burst of primal want, though it's watching the flush on Gordon grow deeper that satiates that other, newer beast nesting inside of him.

Hot, wet, sinuous, pressing against his belly like a snake, making him gasp and jerk instinctively - Gordon's head spins on contact. And Benrey's eyes keep flicking up to meet his, like he's gauging Gordon's reaction. Looking for the go-ahead. Like-- Like they haven't been playing this fucking game for hours, glorified foreplay, you know, like he hadn't let Benrey practically feel him up behind the bleachers while he was (is) stripped down to nothing.

When Gordon's legs jerk open, though, he doesn't snap them closed again. He lets them fall open, leaving room for Benrey's face. If he wanted. To put his face anywhere around there. It's embarrassing as soon as the thought hits his conscious mind, and Gordon burns a bright red down to his shoulders.

"I-I don't know if this is what every 'best friend' is supposed to d-- oh-- oh God, Benrey--"

His voice pitches up, raw and hoarse, as Benrey's tongue flattens itself against his thighs and dick. No more games. Just what this was always building up to, this whole time, if Gordon had just paid a little more attention, pushed his glasses back up on his nose and seen the hunger in Benrey's eyes. And the full knowledge of it cracks over his skull like an egg.

His chest heaves desperately to catch his breath, but it's so much, he can't--

He can't--

Benrey's going back for more, licking him in slow, deliberate strokes and chuffing like a big cat against him, and Gordon can't fucking think. His hands clench at Benrey's, then, finding that inadequate, at his own face. His hair.

"Benrey," he chokes out again. "You're gonna-- oh-- you just gave me a bath and you're gonna get me all fuckin' nasty again, man!"

It comes out as a whine that belies just how fucking stupid he sounds.

> "I'll, uh, just bathe you again. No biggie."

> Benrey's voice is low, dismissive. There is a dark and teasing chuckle hidden just under the surface, as much of a predator as the rest of him. Waiting for a moment to strike, to snag his prey and drag it beneath the surface. But not now, not now.

> Benrey likes to play with his food.

> His alien tongue is strangely dexterous, encircling Gordon's thighs and tracing wet lines into the crease where they met his body. Faint trails of Sweet Voice-tainted saliva leave visible marks of where he's been, allowing Gordon to ogle at exactly when Benrey is doing to him even after he's moved on. Even after he's moved from one leg to the other, to his belly, to his cock.

> His own aches as he flattens his tongue against his dick and licks upwards, like an animal lapping water. His tongue curls delicately and folds back into his mouth, scraping against pointed teeth before emerging again. Hungry, tasting, teasing and growing faster, more deliberate. The taste of Gordon swirl in his mouth and he feels a heat building in his belly so hot and dangerous that it almost makes him feel ill.

> And it intensifies with every squeak Gordon makes, every pant that falls out of his mouth. It drives him onward, a leopard on the prowl, gradually cornering its next meal. His own breath is becoming ragged, his mind a messy whorl of emotions and thoughts that make time seem as though it hardly matters. He's long forgotten how long he's been teasing, eyes nearly crossed to focus on Gordon. Benrey has long been lost in the sounds he makes, the way he writhes.

> It's almost like divine inspiration when it strikes him that he should maybe push him a bit harder.

> Delicately, and uncharacteristically slow, he rolls his tongue back into his mouth. He parts his lips and fits them around Gordon's length. He can't suck, not at this size, but he hums in satisfaction, the vibrations pulsing straight from him and into his human.

> If he wasn't so afraid of doing damage, he'd have smiled.

"We don't have time to--" Gordon breaks off in a moan, that compulsive need to worry stopped in its tracks by Benrey's tongue.

He shivers from his neck down to his toes when it worms around his thighs, digging into those sensitive creases in his skin. Something like a laugh bubbles out of him, but it's also something like a whimper, with a hint of a plea.

"You can't," he gasps, fighting for breath, "you can't do this to me, man, you don't even-- ah! Fuck! Don't even know!"

Gordon turns his face to the side and buries a noise into Benrey's hand. Makes it easier to cope when Benrey licks up to his chest and swirls his tongue, his own breath loud and hot around it. Tasting everywhere he can get to.  Benrey just keeps going, salivating and groaning for the sheer thrill of it, and it makes heat pulse off Gordon's skin in waves.

Faster, harder, enveloping him in ways he had only dreamed possible, something only he can do - Benrey - just for him, he doesn't do this shit with anyone else, how could he. Gordon squirms and gasps in his grip, legs straining to arch into that wet heat.

Agony creeps into his voice, low and haggard. "Benrey," he whines, "how are you so fucking... good at this, why are you even--"

He doesn't get to finish that thought before Benrey's lips wrap around him, and he hums, smug as a cat that's gotten the cream, and Gordon cries out so hard that some winged thing bursts out from a nearby outcropping. How is-- Why is he-- what does he even get out of this, he thinks wildly, brain desperately clinging to neuroticism even in the face of sexual obliteration.

> Every time Gordon shifts his weight, whines, looks away, says a word, Benrey feels that warm, weird emotion surge through him in a way that defies explanation. A feeling he thinks he can now identify, but is hesitant to verbalize, lest he somehow break the rules. But, it's so much stronger than before, especially after everything they'd been through, especially with the way Gordon is finally saying what he really means. Instead of snapping that he's being weird, he's whimpering praise and the words hang crookedly in his head like paintings in a forgotten room.

> "Benrey, how are you so fucking... good at this?"

> The boner he'd been ignoring for what seemed like millennia is now aching, and he pushes his hips against the side of the island and grinds upwards in hopes of finding something resembling relief. Unsurprisingly, what he finds is a crotch full of rocks, and he winces even as he continues to lavish Gordon with attention, breath hot out of his nose as he continues to hum and mouth at his dick. As he unfurls his tongue once more and presses it against his entire body and pushes Gordon against the palm of his hand, something akin to a wet hug. As the tip once again finds Gordon's cock and greedily laps at it, mesmerized by how prominent it is compared to the rest of his soft body.

> There is no give. Just hardness, sinking into the sensitive muscle.

> As he continues on--gently sucking on entire hands, tracing circles into the wet skin of his stomach, tasting the inside of his thighs while grazing his junk with the side of his tongue--he grunts. He feels his hips rocking just out of Gordon's sight. He clenches his free hand when its not in use pulling Gordon's legs apart for easier access or fiddling with his arm to get access to his fingers.

> It's instinctual, and impossible to ignore. He aches, and he knows Gordon can see he's losing himself to this as much as his prey.

> He waits to see if Gordon will have anything to say about it.

Gordon grabs desperately at Benrey's face, a nasal noise forced out of him on every exhale. It's more than a blowjob, it's, it's Benrey humming through his entire fucking body, okay? He can feel it down to his bones, and the inside of Benrey's mouth is achingly warm and so, so wet, and Benrey just keeps mouthing at him, tongue unfurling behind his teeth to lap up Gordon's length in a hot stripe.

It's... it's good. It's so good. Gordon closes his eyes tight and moans aloud.

Benrey moans, too, as his lips part from Gordon's dick to envelop his fingers instead. He pants through his nose and shuffles awkwardly, and the uncomfortable motion gets Gordon to open his eyes again. And he really looks, this time.

Oh.

He's hard.

Benrey's hard, and he's rocking his hips forward into the barren earth. And he's got his hands on Gordon instead of himself. Thumbing his chest and spreading him open. The burden of that knowledge makes Gordon pant like a dog.

"Oh my God," he warbles, voice cracking as Benrey draws patterns into his stomach with his tongue, "are you-- are you not gonna--"

Gordon slaps his hands over his mouth, suddenly regretting his words. No, he's not going to ask if Benrey's gonna touch his own dick, Jesus Christ. That's none of his business. What does he even care, anyway. It's not like he wants to see it. Not like he's curious about how big it would look once Benrey whipped it out. Gordon's aware of the general, you know, size and girth, proportionally, but it looks so much bigger down there, even in the confines of his work pants. It's not really fair.

And then Benrey grunts against him and flicks the tip of his tongue against his dick even faster, and Gordon can't stop the agonized whine that forces its way out of him.

> Benrey's tongue rolls up Gordon's body yet again, and again, and again. It envelops his dick, his thighs, his stomach, and everything in between. He watches, he waits, and eventually he hears Gordon's voice small and broken from his palm. It is enough to make him recoil, to open the floodgates in his mind. That warm feeling floods the inside of his skull and drowns out every thought out but lust, who is gasping for air defiantly.

> "Huh?"

> Benrey pauses, looking down at Gordon--soaked and slimy and oh-so-small--laying with his legs parted, his face flushed, his eyes locked on the very prominent erection straining against his pants. His own trail down to it and he smirks as the weight of Gordon's almost-question hits him.

> "Oh... huh? Wha? Touch myself? Is, uh, is that what you were gonna say?"

> He leans down over Gordon, tongue sticking out between sharp teeth but frustratingly distant from his body. The hand he'd once used to manhandle his human pulled away, fingers slipping into his waistband behind his belt. He sneers, but there is no actual malice behind it. Feigned mockery, just to make Gordon grow brighter. Redder.

> "You... seem to like the idea. You, uh. You... you wanna see? That what you want? Wanna see best friend Benrey's massive hog? Wanna... wanna touch it?"

> A pause, a laugh.

> "Want me to touch it? Seems you like the idea. I can do it. Just, uh, gotta say so."

Gordon mumbles a quiet plea into his hands, begging for some higher power to-- to do something. He doesn't know what. All he knows is that Benrey's sticking his tongue between his teeth, now, looking at him as if he's some problem to be solved or some piece of furniture to wrangle into place. Instead of keeping that tongue right where he had it. Gordon squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath through his nose. He's not disappointed, actually. That would involve caring about what Benrey was doing at all. Which he doesn't.

"You can... you can do whatever you want, man. It's your life," he says, not meeting Benrey's eyes.

Not like he wants to... oh, God. That's Benrey's hand in his pants, isn't it? Slipping under the waistband before Gordon’s even finished his sentence. A sound escapes him that he really wishes wouldn't. He’s really into this, huh, Gordon thinks distantly, just as surprised by the realization as he has been all the previous times he’s figured out that, yes, Benrey actually is pretty hot for him. Like he’s still waiting for the Band-Aid to be ripped off, even now. Even after Benrey’s sucked his dick in a fucking dumpster. (You take what you can get.)

And-- And there it is, huh. Larger than life. Gordon swallows, a little intimidated. Then he wants to curse himself out for feeling intimidated by Benrey’s dick. Freud would have a field day with him.

[lexpressobean]

Thoughts on Kikaichu as actual Parasites.

Knowing how skin and the body generally works on a medical level, the "hive" aspect of the Aburame clan really drives me crazy. 'Cause parasites are real, obviously, but the size of Kikaichu beetles makes absolutely no sense in comparison to irl skin parasites. At least not in a bee hive sort of way lol

rambling because my mind craves logic and I'm specializing as a wound care nurse but it's literally anime so what do I expect lol

No, wounds don't freak me out, I'm more terrified of generally handling vomit and babies than I am a dehiscence of a 15cm long surgical site lol. The human body can literally take so much abuse before it really starts to give and try to alert you that you need help! And once you give it help, it really can come full circle to the wound 100% looking like it was never there. The body is an amazing thing <3

However the first thing that comes to mind when I hear the word "parasite" is always going to be "tapeworm". That's not gonna change. However, kikaichu are not worms and CERTAINLY don't grow that fucking huge or live that long. (A tape worm can live long enough to graduate with a fucking PhD. Can you believe?) I haven't been exposed to any urgent situations involving parasites yet, however, the one I would compare a Kikaichu to that is (unfortunately) also common is the scabies mite.

Very briefly, scabies mites (Sarcoptes scabiei) are technically a type of arachnid that grow no bigger than a bout 0.5mm in size, but CAN be seen with the naked eye if you're looking for them. They crawl around the skin and burrow specifically in the top layer of skin, called the epidermis. The epidermis is that protective layer of skin and can be between 0.5mm to 1.5mm thick depending on which part of the body you're looking at. After the epidermis, you have the dermal layer, which is where sweat glands, nerves, and capillaries are found. Scabie mites will not burrow that deep because they only burrow to lay their eggs and such. As they do this they can cause visible tunnels and other marks that can be mistaken for acne or other skin conditions if not properly identified. You'll most likely know because the itch is VERY BAD.

They're very easily spread by close contact and a scabies infestation needs to be treated with a prescribed pharmacological means.

However, kikaichu are definitely a lot bigger than 0.5mm. In the case of size, I would compare them at minimum to fruitflies/medflies, which grow up to 3-5mm and maximum to ladybugs 4-7mm.

3-7mm > 0.5-1.5mm... obviously. And the holes which Kikaichu swarm out of that the audience has seen before are about a size comparable Shino's nostrils, IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE!!

You're telling me those things were in his mouth?????????? S H I N O N O

That would mean, in realistic terms, the Kikaichu are fucking around in Shino's body to the bone and muscles and THAT'S A REALLY SCARY THOUGHT. Even just passing the epidermis to the dermis is alarming! Compared to the dry, protective epidermis that can and does take damage, the dermis can be 1-4mm thick depending on where you're looking and is where skin does it's business. All together that becomes 0.5-5.5mm of space BARELY big enough for a fruit fly do mess around in. It makes just enough sense in terms of THAT size, but last time I checked, having the skin penetrated to the dermal layer is just asking for infection to happen. You're first natural line of defense has been breeched, there's a pretty good chance you're gonna be bleeding (blood vessels) and general body fluids are going to be draining, which is bad for a multitude of reasons, and there's damage that gonna affect the nerves, and realistically this shit is going to be ABSOLUTELY painful if they're constantly manipulating those areas near nerves. These kinda of things CAN make new connections and things like that, sometimes damage is forever. (Case by case basis).

So my first thought to more or less "magically" solve the problem with anime logic, is that first of all, it's an anime and logic doesn't have to apply haha.

On a more sci-fi level, in which kikaichu are smaller than we've seen them shown, maybe they have been purposefully been allowed to burrow into the dermal layer of the skin at least because the blood vessels seem to be in direct contact with the chakra system. Kikaichu's prefered food is chakra, but they WILL mutiny and eat their respective Aburame from the inside out if they don't balance their chakra smartly. So it's safe to say Kikaichu are at least carnivorous as well, and so I only imagine these absolute nightmares would swarm their prey in the wild, and actively bite through and burrow into the body of the prey until they found the chakra system and went to town on that poor unfortunate soul. Eaten alive, how the hell did they "tame" them in the first friggin' place??

I like to think two things:

1) Kikaichu are passed down from parent to child, and the parent has control over the Kikaichu until they have been RIGOROUSLY trained for generations to comprehend that this baby/child isn't food, it's a new hive. If bees can comprehend time, Kikaichu can comprehend what an Aburame is. If they insist on trying to drain the babe or the babe just can't tolerate them, the parent takes the Kikaichu back and the babe is assigned another insect or position in general. Like hell they're gonna try to force a relationship like that.

2) As part of the successful symbiotic relationship, Kikaichu regularly debride the tunnels and borrows that they carve into their respective Aburame, and are naturally intuitive in avoiding as many nerves and blood vessels as possible. The chance of infection is never 0%, however, kikaichu are pretty good about taking care of their tunnels, and so it gives the Aburame more time to focus on their things, like increasing the amount if chakra in their system. To ensure that they stay healthy, Aburame are encouraged to eat as much protein and Vit C possible every day, whether it be meat, beans, lentils, eggs, oranges, tomatoes, or even supplements as times modernize. The dermis is living tissue and as long as debridement/tunneling is going on, it needs to be nourished as much as possible.

I don't know how the hell Aburame deal with the obvious drainage that would be coming from their bodies, assuming the dermal layer really is free game for the Kikaichu. But the magical solution is that... they don't? Because... drainage is minimal. The Kikaichu just do such a good job lol. Maybe they purposefully... carve entrances to be flappy, or they purposefully create pocket spaces underneath seemingly healed areas of skin to easily burst open when necessary. That's the biggest thing for me, leaking body fluids. There's no way around that shit besides straight up denial lol Maybe they wear a special kind of dressing underneath their clothes, or that's directly applied with their clothes. Maybe that's what that cute little backpack is filled with, who knows!!

Idk man. I'm sure the Aburame authority forces encourages many of their non-hive members to pursue medical nin training in order to give the clan more privacy in general too. All medics that claim the Aburame name are exclusively used by the Aburame Clan. A non-Aburame medic may end up healing tunnels and burrows that were meant to stay open because "oops" and now you have an X amount of insects possibly suffocating within a completely sealed pocket of the skin, and also now there's a very good chance that after those insects die, that whole area is gonna frickin' abscess and cause infection induced tunnels the longer it's left alone and GROSS THAT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! THERE IS A DELICATE, ORGANIZED, SELF-SUFFICENT PROCESS TO ALL THIS!! A PROCESS!!!

Like... the other ninja in the NartVerse can make as many jokes, jabs, and comments about the Aburame as they please (INO? BITCH??? but to be honest I still love her lol). But these MFers are constantly playing Russian Roulette with these high maintenance demon spawn from hell, and there are VERY little defences against Kikaichu, virtually none. Like the only thing I've ever seen actively thwart Kikaichu across all media is killing them with mass fire, countering them with large amounts of poison gas (both very exterminator like) or literally just feeding them chakra until they're so stupid full, they can't move, the little gluttons. As far as genjutsu, it's been stated that it's both effective and ineffective, so idk about that. But the Aburame are just SO set up to be the living breathing embodiment of Shinobi as defined by the NartVerse. They're whole clan culture relies on the threat of enemies. If they have no enemies, the whole relationship is an exhausting endeavor for literally no reason. It's not worth it if there's no one to fight or protect! But when there is a threat, you want them on YOUR side.

I suppose the best bet is to incapacitate the Aburame individual asap and the Kikaichu will tend the individual, making escape easier. But, if you DID manage to kill that Aburame right away, that particular Aburame's swarm is now suddenly without its food source and without restraint.

What do you THINK is gonna happen, bro?? The second an Aburame loses their grip on their consciousness due to external influences, the bugs go bonkers because I'm pretty sure Kikaichu are simply persuaded to be in this relationship and have NO tolerance for bullshit like alcohol and overheating temps. If their Aburame dies, they probably cause just as much chaos as they would as a wild, unattended swarm. Then YOU BETTER HAVE fire or poison gas or SOMETHING handy. The only way to calm them down is to offer them chakra and a new host with equal or even more chakra reserves. Otherwise the mutineers must be eradicated.

And for serious... Like, any deeper and the kikaichu would be in the hypodermal/subcutaneous layer of the skin and that's where a lot of connective tissue is located. Let's NOT mess with that shit, shall we? NOT a good idea. It's called connective tissue for a reason first and foremost...

[xbarrjallenx]

Game Night

Pairing: Hargreeves!Siblings x Gender-Neutral!Sibling!Reader

Summary: The Hargreeves siblings bonded with each other through their game night, a moment when peace and quiet weren’t welcome in their house.

Requested: Yes / No

Word count: 1.413

Posted: 14.08.2020

Warning(s): Siblings banter, swearing

Song inspiration: - 

A/N: Hello, guys! It has been a while since I last posted something and I am truly sorry, but I was in a really bad place for a very long time. Gladly, The Umbrella Academy season 2 came out recently and it gave me some inspirations to continue my writing. It’s my first TUA imagine, so comments and feedbacks are highly appreciated. Also, English is not my first language and my writing is very rusty and inexperient. - G. x

Take note: Ben is alive.

Links: Masterlist | Song inspirations | Support My Writing

“UNO!” Klaus excitedly announced as he threw his next-to-last UNO card on the wooden centre table, only one card remaining on his left hand. You, together with your other six siblings, shot him a sharp death glare, miffed and tired of him and his actions.

It was the Hargreeves siblings’ game night and the game was either UNO or Monopoly. Everyone happily chose the former, outnumbering the latter, to avoid another huge family mess - Monopoly ruined your relationship with each other many times and the last game turned out so badly that Allison and Diego almost killed Five for bankrupting them.

“What do you mean UNO again?” Diego frustratingly asked his brother, grip tightening around the massive deck of cards in his hand. He got a huge chain of Draw Twos and Wild Draw Fours in the previous turn, needing to draw eighteen cards in total for the stacking penalty. 

Klaus nonchalantly laughed, grabbing another bottle of beer from the table. “It’s just a game. Chill out, Diego!” 

Ben took a stinging and deep sigh, frowning as he faced Klaus once again. “Yes, it is just a game, but we have been playing for more than an hour now and neither of us has won, except for you.”

“Sore losers!” The defending champion playfully remarked, enjoying his siblings’ disputes while admiring his new bottle of beer.

“Shut the fuck up!” You all shouted in unison while you threw every cushion towards Klaus’ direction. 

Klaus kept on laughing, neatly hiding his precious card under a cushion as he grabbed the bottle opener. “I am loving this moment so much!”

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of beer. “I swear, Klaus! If you’re using your powers again to win this game, you’re dead.” 

“I bet he is!” Luther commented and the rest of the siblings agreed to his statement, Ben and Vanya shaking their heads in disbelief. 

Klaus nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders and smirked. “It’s not my fault if I am extremely talented.” 

“Yeah, Cheater, your Caspers should be banned from this house.” Diego muttered, eyes now focused on his deck. 

“Klaus, you are no fun!” Ben pointed out, remembering him the rules of not using your powers during game night soon after.

Five obnoxiously cleared his throat, catching everyone’s attention. “Are we done crying? You are interrupting my turn!”  

“Bitchy!” Allison and Vanya declared, both of them giving him a go on playing his card.

“Thank you, sisters!” Five sarcastically replied, throwing a Wild Card after taking a huge bite out of his peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. “Yellow!” 

“We are technically against Klaus right now, Five.” Ben rolled his eyes as he had to fish a card.

“Well, actually, thank you, Five!” Vanya proudly smiled, enthusiastically dropping her second last card on the table. “UNO!” 

The champion’s eyes suddenly grew wide, alarmed that he might lose this turn, and Vanya gave him a toothy smile as you and your siblings noisily cheered for her. 

“Luther, please have a reverse card!” You hoped as you played your yellow card. 

“Boring deck, sorry!” Luther sincerely apologised as he dropped a normal yellow card, passing the turn to Diego.

Diego attentively observed his cards and he exasperatedly looked at all of you. “All of these cards, but no fucking yellow. Five, you son of a bitch, where did you learn how to shuffle cards? You’re so bad at it!” 

“Maybe the Game Gods just hate you so much, Diego!” Five counter-attacked and loud chuckles flew across the room. 

“He’s just a kid, Diego,” You playfully pointed out, earning a round of laughter from your siblings. “cut him some slack.” 

“Oh, fucking shut up, (Y/N)!” Five fiercely responded and you laughed louder than the usual, realising how much of a crier the Hargreeves siblings were. 

“Fish a card, loser!” Allison demandingly obligated Diego and he grumbled in response, reporting that he has almost lost his patience for the shitty game that you were playing.

“Please don’t let Klaus win, Allison.” Ben sweetly pleaded, his sweet puppy dog eyes showing.

“Sis, I am about to win,” Vanya reminded her, happily shaking her last UNO card. “please skip Klaus.”

Allison guiltily looked at her cards and silently mumbled an apology, playing a normal yellow card and letting Klaus proceed on his turn. Everyone around the table groaned and hoped that he wasn’t holding a yellow or a same-numbered card.

“Yeah, hate me all you want,” Klaus proudly sang after drinking his beer bottom up, throwing his last card soon after. “but I still fucking won.” 

Complaints and insults flew across the room while the winner celebrated and gave high fives on different empty spots behind him. 

“Fuck you and your ghosts, Cheater!” Ben playfully exclaimed, grip still tight on his cards. 

“You would be my ghost bitch, if (Y/N) didn’t save you that night, idiot!” Klaus reminded him, making Ben sigh exasperatedly. You were shocked that Klaus brought the incident up once again, but before you could comment on it, Diego has already spoken up.

“I am so done with these stupid games.” He messily threw his cards on the table. “Can we abolish game night, please? All of us are, now, adults. Well, most of us.”

“Just because the Game Gods are against you, you want to abolish Hargreeves siblings’ game night? That’s unfair, bro! Besides, it’s the only time we don’t stress about our adulthood.” It was impossible that Diego hadn’t got a possible move earlier so you checked his cards properly and you judgingly looked at him. “For fucking real, dumbass? I refuse to believe this.” 

The siblings started shutting their mouths up and they paid you their whole attention, eyes filled with curiosity. “What?” 

You grabbed a special card from Diego’s deck and raised it in the air. “Diego had the Swap Hand Card and never played it!”

Diego furrowed his eyebrows, not fully understanding what you meant. “The what?” 

“Swap Hand Card.” You repeated. “It meant that you could fucking swap cards to anyone you wanted.” 

“What the hell?” He was still confused, but frustration quickly wrapped his face as soon as he processed the new information. “I thought it was just a Jolly card and I had it in all of the previous games.” 

The room was soonly filled with laughter and insults towards your idiot brother. 

“For fuck’s sake, Diego!” Luther shook his head in disappointment as he loudly laughed, relishing how the Kraken immediately lost his cool.

“We painfully watched Klaus win all the damn time when you had the chance to win big time.” Five smartly observed. “Good job, bro!” 

Diego was vexed and the jokes that you and your siblings were throwing at him surely didn’t help on calming himself down. “Fuck you, all of you!” He grabbed the whole deck of UNO cards and violently tossed it across the living room, messily scattering it everywhere. 

“Classic, Diego!” Allison slowly clapped, mocking her sibling even more.

“Cool move, dimwit!” Klaus joined his sister in and whistled, exaggeratedly clapping afterwards.

Diego flashed his middle fingers and started heading out of the living room, leaving you and your siblings in shambles.

“At least, pick up the cards, asshole!” Five fiercely shouted.

“Leave me alone, kid!” Diego shouted back and Five was about to teleport towards Diego to fight him, but Luther and Vanya grabbed his elbows to stop him. 

“Don’t, you might get hurt big time,” Vanya looked at her brother and flashed a playful smirk. “kid.” 

Five groaned and everyone just laughed tumultuously. “I am the oldest one here, stop calling me a kid.”

“You’re thirteen, fly down, child!” You joked, poking the bear even more with your invisible stick.

Five shook his body to take Luther and Vanya’s hands off of him and showed his middle fingers to flip you off.

“Classy, huh?” You watched him chug his black coffee down, aggressively finishing his favourite sandwich subsequently.

“Well, that was fun!” Ben admitted with a huge smile on his face and Vanya softly smiled back at him to agree on his truthful statement.

Game night was fun, huh? Well, it was, but you were glad it happened only once every two weeks or else the Hargreeves’ residence would not find its peace and quiet ever again.

“You all are so hilarious, guys. My ghosts are having so much fun watching you!” Klaus approached as soon as every sibling has calmed down. “Another round?” 

“Fuck off, Klaus!” 

[aurora-the-kunoichi]

The Forgotten - Part Six Return of the Nerd

Full story here

SMUT FO SHO MY BITCHES, CAUSE THATS HOW I DO!

Despite her failing protests Michelangelo personally escorted Aurora from the compound. She really had no choice in the matter, if she tried to fight him, she would attract unwanted attention and she’d be found out. Thankfully, Mikey didn’t seem too keen on bringing her to Bishop, he actually looked a little nervous as his eyes moved about the hallway seeming to keep her from full view of all cameras. But she had gotten what she wanted, confirmation of Bishop’s base, the one they had been searching for, for years. This was a good thing; it was a win in her eyes.

He walked her through the main gate making sure to keep his massive frame in front of the cameras and guards to shield her presence. This was all so surreal; so much had changed in the last few months. They went from trying to end her life to being unable to control their hormones like horny teenagers but still wary of her motives. She’d take it.

 As they came to the edge of the compound’s boundaries Mikey stopped turning to look at the kunoichi. His large mitt palmed the side of Aurora’s throat before running up to cup her cheek. His rough thumb drug over her bottom lip and he let out a soft sigh which by the sudden bunch of his shoulder muscles was unexpected. His eyes scanned over her face and a look of contentment flash over his baby blues but morphed to concern. “Leo said you told him there’s something inside of us, all of us. What is it?”

 Taking a deep breath, she let it out ready to give him some answers his overactive brain was so desperately in need of, “It looks like a tiny metal octopus, like smaller than an eraser head. It constantly moves so it’s difficult to locate inside the body and why we weren’t able to figure out how he’s been controlling you all. We only found out recently and by pure accident. If only we had Donnie…..”

 “Donnie?”

 Closing her eyes momentarily Aurora let out a heavy sigh and she looked up into his baby blues, “He’s your brother. He went missing almost four years ago, a year before you, Leo and Raph were taken.” Another deep breath, but she decided to keep the new formation of Donnie trying to return from him. If he was lying, which he had always been a horrible liar but just in case he grew some new skills since he was reprogramed Aurora kept that little nugget of info close to her chest.  

 Mikey cocked his head rubbing the back of head, she could see him wince a little and his eyes fog over. “He’s a genius….purple.”

 “Yeah, you’re right….Mike did that hurt you to think of that?”

 “It felt like someone was trying to drill into the back of my skull. Fuckin burns man.”

 Aurora moved quickly around to the back of the terrapin and pressed her palm to the back of his bald crown. There, she fucking felt it, the flutter of something under his flesh caught between his skull and his scalp. She reached for his hand and yanked it back to replace hers. “There! Do you feel it?!”

 It took him a few seconds to feel the movement but when he did Mikey’s body jolted with surprise. “What the hell? Fuck!” His fingers cupped it trying to grab at it. “There is something in me! Cut it out! Jesus get it out!”

 “I-I can’t Mike, that’s your skull, that’s a little more important than your shin or arm. It could get infected I don’t want to lose you to something as stupid as that. Besides its dark and I have nothing to grab it. My fingers would be covered in blood and that thing would slip free.”

 “Fuck, it’s gone.” He began to touch his skin trying to find it again.

 “The skull maybe blocks the transmission a little? I’ve seen your x-rays; you guys have thick skulls. Maybe the mutagen? I don’t know…..” Slowly she took his hand in hers pulling them to her cheeks, the gesture stopped his frenzy. “Why didn’t you turn me into Bishop? I was at your mercy and you didn’t give me over to him. You could have easily done so?”

 “Your eyes.” He cupped her cheeks and locked eyes, “They’re the windows to the soul. The first time we ‘met’ I could see the sadness and the happiness all at the same time. You were legit happy to see us and then it morphed to sadness then terrified. If we had never met before, which we were meant to believe, I would have expected you to be terrified, which is what most people experience when they first see us. But you were happy, relieved even. Fuck, you even knew our god damn names. Like, I was shooketh!  When we got back to base and I confronted Bishop. Bishop told me you were a kunoichi, you were a seductress using your womanly wiles to make us doubt the mission and must have gotten our names from a captured soldier. But your emotions were genuine, so I had trouble brushing it off. Then Raph had his little meet and great with you. You didn’t try to take him, just trying to talk. And then Leo, you could have easily killed him after you sent him to dream land…..awesome job by the way…..but you let him fucking go. What kind of enemy lets their enemies go? You didn’t hurt either of them. When I saw you in the hallway and the way you looked at me when I pulled you into that room, I could see happiness again. No one is happy to see us, not even Bishop. Right now, I can see love.”

 Aurora could see tears begin to form at the corner of his eyes and her body responded following suit. “You were always so intuitive Mikey. I do, I love you, I love all of you. I miss you so much. I wish I could take you home with me.”

 “I know, I know not until you get this slippery little fucker out of us. Plus, I need to stay here and make sure my bros are ok. He cut up Raph to punish Leo for not fulfilling the mission last night.”

 “He did what?! That’s Raph’s blood on your hands?! …..Mission?”

 “Calm down he’s fine, nothing life threatening. Leo was supposed to get loose and tell us where you were, but he never reported in. I guess Leo found something a little more entertaining.” He chuckled half heartily. “I don’t blame him…”

 “Speaking of, how are you doing down there champ?”

 “Blue balls for sure, but I’ll be fine nothing I can’t take care of in a little bit. If it wasn’t for all the security a few hundred feet away I’d have that pretty little pussy of yours stretched over this cock until you were hoarse from screaming my name.”

 Heat flushed her checks and felt the warmth of new arousal bloom in her abdomen at the thought. “I’d let you too. But I need to get out of here before they get suspicious. I mean when you came down that hallway you looked determined.  Where were you heading?”

 Mikey’s eyes widened, “Fuck! I was going to get more bandages! I gotta go! I’ll see you soon Blondie!” and just like that he was gone, running towards the base at top speed. As he reached the main yard he began weaving around and jumping over bodies until he was a speck entering back into the compound.

 It took Aurora less time to head back to her bike still being careful of motion detectors, she took to the streets and as she was a good distance away, she slowed her bike to a stop and pressed the com in her ear.

 “White skull to base.”

 It took a few minutes, but the familiar voice of Casey came over the com his mouth apparently filled with food. “This is Base, go ahead White Skull.”

 “We have confirmation. Disneyland has been located.”

  She didn’t go home right away, the talk of Donnie made Aurora take a detour to the lair. She informed Casey of her next stop and made her way below the streets. Everything was how she left it, dark and empty. Lights began to flicker on illuminating the large space; she moved to the kitchen pulling out a water and cracked it open downing the entire contents in one motion. She moved slowly eyeing the closed door to Donnie’s lab and decided that was where she wanted to be.

 The door opened without a sound and she slipped inside keeping the arch in view. She willed it to come alive with power, to give her back Donnie. As she reached the piece of vexing machinery her fingers ran over the smooth edges finding them surprisingly warm. The lair was naturally cool due to the depth it laid so for the metal to be warm was odd. She moved to the controls and looked for any activity, lights coming alive under the key of the board, a flickering on the screen indicating any type of activity? Anything……anything of Donnie……

 Minutes turned to hours, but she remained glued to her spot. Something in her gut told her to stay, not to leave the lair, not yet. Swiveling in his specially designed chair Aurora picked up a small device on Donatello’s desk and spun it around in her hands. It was glass, a cube to be exact, the reflective qualities were gorgeous, a prism effect. It was a light he had been working on, powered by the warmth from one’s hands. It only took a few moments for the cube to begin to flicker with the variety of colors of a rainbow. The longer she held it the brighter it got. When it reached the desired brightness, she placed it back on his work bench and stared into the shifting hues.

 He had yet to perfect the device, it only held the charge for an hour or two, but he was certain he was about to have a breakthrough with the conversion of power. Something with the helix bonds or whatever. She knew he’d get it; she just didn’t think it would take this long.

 She began to doze mesmerized by the lit cube. Her eyes half closed unfocused on anything she was suddenly aware the light was getting brighter? Did he fix something about it before he disappeared? Blinking her eyes rapidly she focused on the cube finding it like how it should be, dulling with time. Then what was that bright light?

 The sounds of electricity crackling began to rise in volume in his lab along with the pulsing of light she had mistaken from the cube. The source now tore her gaze from Donnie’s work bench to the very much active arch. The light grew in intensity nearly blinding her as Aurora stood from her seat. She shielded her eyes with her arms and watched the arch snap and flicker with power.

 A circle began to open within its circumference swirling between a greyish color and a bright blue. Then it started to fluctuate, and a figure began to form inside the growing vortex. The lines were fuzzy keeping the picture unclear, but her heart jumped and clenched with anxiousness at the forming figure. It had to be, it just had to be.

 Without warning a burst of energy blew from the vortex sending Aurora back with its unexpected force. She toppled over his chair and into a stack of computer parts scattering them across the floor and Aurora on her ass. She quickly got to her feet and found the arc now stable giving her a perfect view of the genius. There was no flickering now, no waves of misaligns data, just a clear as day view of Donatello and it was glorious.

 With unsure steps she made her way around the new mess on the lab floor but kept every sense, every ounce of her concentration on the tall missing terrapin staring back at her through the newly working portal.

 She didn’t know when she had started crying but her cheeks were soaked and her voice unsure, but she called out, “D-Don?”

 Donnie face broke out into an exuberant smile and he reached down for what looked like a bag and hoisted it over his broad shoulder. His left leg rose and slipped through the portal falling onto the cement floor of his lab and the rest of his body followed suit until he was living, breathing, real flesh and bone standing a few excruciating feet away from the trembling woman.

 His tall frame was dressed in new clothes, his legs covered in properly fitted grey slacks with expensive looking custom black boots on his massive feet, old gadgets were gone replaced with smaller fancier items. His backpack was missing but his goggles remained but looked to have gotten a major upgrade. She could see his bo was still there also looking newer. Gone were his broken turtle glasses replaced with black rimed frames that better fit his face making the nerd look more sophisticated. Did he look bigger? The clothes were throwing her off. Where the fuck has he been? The words were on her lips, but she couldn’t move, all her screaming muscles cried out to touch him but she was paralyzed by shock. Four years, it had been, four years since she had seen him in the flesh.  

 The heavy leather duffle was set down and Donatello looked her up and down and he let out a long, very happy shuttering sigh. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

 His voice finally broke her from her paralysis, and she stormed forward leaping into his arms praying she wasn’t hallucinating but the solid body that caught her was very much there and very much real. He was home.

 Her hands ran over him just to make sure, up and down his arms, over his neck to the top of his muscled shoulders. Her fingers worked the first few buttons free and felt the familiar scars and gouges of his chest nearly sobbing at the realization of his return.

 “You’re here, you’re really here!”

 “I am, god, it took so long but I’m here.” His finger hooked under her chin so their eyes locked. Purple and brown both flooded with happy tears. “I’ve missed you.” His lips found hers, soft at first growing with enthusiasm as Aurora responded with vigor.

 As their mouths engaged and reengaged in desperate collisions Aurora began to finish stripping the genius of his fancy shirt. Her fingers pulled the fabric from his shoulders, down his arms until he was free. To her delight she was right; Donatello had been working on his fitness while he had been stripped from his family. Donnie had been no weakling by any means, the purple banned terrapin could easily crush a skull with his bare hands but he had bulked up in his time away.  Eager fingers ran along the ridges of the solid definition squeezing hard with appreciation.

 Their mouths broke free pulling in gulps of air and Aurora’s moved to his chiseled jaw line nipping at the scales until he was panting.

 “Don” she mewled between open mouth kisses down his long throat, “Donnie……D……Donatello.” The more she moaned his name the louder he crooned until he reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it free of her body in one fluid motion.

 “Aurora.” He moaned cupping one breast with his free hand. Gently he squeezed and rolled the fabric over the mound finding the bud beneath peek quickly. His finger caught the bra and pulled it down releasing a breast to his gaze. With a heave Donnie lifted her higher so his mouth could cover the hot flesh sucking and nipping until her could feel the fabric of her pants dampen with her arousal against his plastron. “God, you smell divine. I want to taste you but I don’t think I can wait.”

 There was so much to discuss, so much he didn’t know about. Donnie had no idea his brothers were no longer with the resistance and under Bishop’s control but he looked so happy in this moment and truth was so was Aurora. She would wait to break his heart, they would take this moment, they both needed it. It was a happy reunion and she was sure there would be more now with Donnie back.  Gripping his cheeks she ground against him, “Then don’t.”

 Donatello wasted no time and brought her over to his abandoned desk shoving everything from its surface. He dropped her down and yanked her boots and pants free of her body to begin fumbling with his belt. Aurora’s hands pushed them from the buckle and worked them free with trained ease. The button and zipper were next, teeth opening quickly but making sure not to harm the precious cargo beneath. When the massive erection sprung free of its confines Aurora’s hands were quick to gather the throbbing flesh in both palms.

 The connection with hot flesh against her expert hands made Donnie groan in bliss. His hips shifted making his cock slide through her fingers and she gripped it firmly getting a shuttering sigh from the genius. Her finger found the dripping helm gathering the moister and ran the pad of her finger down the underside of his length staying with the pulsing vein. A hiss pulled through clenched teeth followed by a throaty call of her name. Aurora leaned back spreading her thighs giving him full view of her soaked folds.

 His eyes blew wide at the sight and leaned forward grabbing her right thigh hoisting it up over his shoulder while pressing her back on the cold table. Reaching between them Donatello palmed his length running the spongy head through her folds drenching himself in her scent and essence. Donnie rumbled low closing his eyes to push the head of his cock just past her opening. He stilled at the tightness and the sound of Aurora’s hitch in breath. Rocking slightly he sheathed himself an inch before withdrawing nearly pulling free of her body.

 “D-Donnie….please”

His eye opened looking down at his kunoichi, her face was beautifully flushed, chest heaving and her lips parted with rough breaths. Still only one breast freed from it fabric prison Donnie reached down to free the other. His large hands covered both mounds and the mutant eased more of himself into her, slowly, until every last inch of him was engulfed in the sweet wet heat of Aurora.  

 Both let out a shaky sign at their long past due union and Donnie leaned down to capture her mouth in a searing kiss. He pushed forward again and the pressure of his girth and length made the woman beneath him mewl, arching and twisting to get him to move.

 “Patience Rora, it’s been far too long since I’ve had you.” Slow and deliberate he began to withdrawal tilting himself so he would drag across the roof of her canal. “…far too long.” Reluctantly his hands left her reddened breasts and moved to her hips snapping his own forward with deliberate intention of making Aurora more vocal. He was rewarded pleasantly when her head snapped back at the sudden reentry and a whimpering moan of his name erupted from her throat. It encouraged the deprived terrapin further and Donnie repeated the process at an agonizingly slow pace until she was pleading with him to fuck her.  

 Aurora reached up to grab the rim of the genius’s plastron and she pulled him down, her mouth finding his hungrily.  Lips parted, tongues wound together and the long lost familiar taste of the genius invaded Aurora’s senses like a barreling freight train. It came and she sobbed into his mouth but didn’t’ break the dance.

 The pained sound didn’t startle Donnie but he did pull her closer removing all space that was between them. “I’m sorry.” He pleaded between each drive of his hips. “I’m so sorry.” With each breathless apology his rhythm picked up rutting into the kunoichi with fevered abandon.

 His mouth disconnected with hers traveling down to her throat nipping and sucking making sure to leave marks. It had been years since he had seen his own brand on her skin and he was determined to leave enough so each time she looked in the mirror these next few days he would be the only thing on her mind.  

 Aurora rocked into each plunge of his length whimpering with each strike into her depths. This was so much different than the other day. When she had Leo it was him physically but Leo wasn’t there mentally; he was in his head locked away but not present in the act, maybe to some extent but she couldn��t be sure just yet.

 Donatello was here, all of him; mind body and soul and it made the reunion much more intense. As he drove her to the precipice her hands groped at the dense muscles of his arms dragging him back into her. She was desperate for every inch of him, every drop she was prepared to receive.

 She could feel it, the beginnings of her peek. It started slow like an over flowing sink, the tingling sensation of her climax rolled in her cunt moving to the stretched lips of her labia swallowing his pumping cock.

 Donnie growled feeling her walls started flutter around him, “Are you going to cum for me? I’ve been dre-ahh-aming of his moment for almost five years now. How many times I’ve imagined you under me to give myself a little piece.” His hips picked up in speed to help her along chasing his own in the process. “Cum.” He demanded. “Cum for Donnie.”

 With his command it rolled up her belly and spread like wild fire as Aurora toppled over her peek. Her climax overtook her body tensing, arching into him and she screamed. Open mouthed echoing into the once vacant room she came undone around him.

 “F-f-uck, so tight…..I’m gonna…….” One, two, three more pistons of his hips and Donatello drove forward one last time anchoring himself as far as her body would allow. His beak nudged Aurora’s head to the side to expose her throat and his teeth latched onto the slender column to hold his lover steady as he gave her his release. His cock pulsated painfully and finally erupted with rich ropes of his ejaculate flooding her insides. With each ebbing flow of his climax Donnie rocked into her body with small shallow movements until every drop of his seed was deposited into her womb.

 It took a few minutes for both to calm down, clinging to each other unwilling to disconnect just yet. He was still seated within her as her fingers ran along the top of his shell in slow soothing motions.  She didn’t want to move, she just wanted to enjoy being close to Donnie, he was back, real. His smell was soothing, and his slowing heart beat that thudded against his plastron would easily lull her to sleep. But now it was time for questions, time for answers and he needed to know about his brothers.

 Aurora’s fingers moved to his skull and moved along the back to run down the base of his spin that transitioned into his carapace. He shuttered at the sensation and finally leaned up to look her in the eyes.  

 “Hi.” He whispered ghosting his lips over hers.

 “Hey yourself, nerd.”

 His brown eyes moved over Aurora’s flushed features taking her in, really looking her over for the first time in four years. He could she was happy, and sated for that matter but there as something else in those violet eyes. Then it hit him, they usually moved in pairs, one of his brothers should have been in her company. “Why are you here alone? Are they at the base?”

 She knew who Don was referring too and shifted under him. “Don…there is something I need to tell you.”

 Donnie’s lazy smile lowered his afterglow forgotten. Slowly he pulled from Aurora’s depths and helped her from the table. His lips pressed in a thin line. “No, please don’t tell me……..they’re…….”

 Aurora quickly grabbed for his face not wanting him to finish the sentence. “No! No, they’re not.” She watched his tense body relax at the knowledge his brothers were not dead. “But…they fell under Bishop’s control. Over three years ago Bishop set up an elaborate plan to capture them, you as well if you were with us. He tricked us with false information from a faulty lead and trapped them in an electrified cage. We weren’t able to get to them in time before he stole them away. We barely made it out with our lives as it was. It broke me, broke us, I don’t think the resistance ever fully recovered from the loss of you all. Casey and I ran into them a few months ago for the first time since losing them after trying to confiscate a tech truck that they were overseeing. Leo…Leo nearly killed me. They didn’t know who I was.” Her finger ran over the scar on her abdomen. “But that meeting triggered something in them. All three of them were then drawn to me; I’ve had rather intense interactions with each of them since then.”

 She watched the emotions run across his face; confusion, anger, sadness and finally acceptance. “We’ll get them back. I promise I’ll work day and night to continue my work on how he’s controlling them. We’ll find them, bring them home, I didn’t work my ass off for four years and across several dimensions to not see my brothers again.”

 “That’s the other thing Don, we found it.”

 “Found it?” He parroted tilting his head in confusion.  

 “What Bishop puts in his victims to control them. It’s back at the base at R & D for analysis. It looks like a tiny octopus. We just need to figure out the ‘how’ now, and cut the communication and…. fuck…. we found Bishop’s allusive base tonight too.”

 Donnie cupped her checks and pressed another life stealing kiss to her mouth. With a pop he pulled away with a toothy grin. “You have been rather successful without us.”

 Eyes closed she savored his taste licking her lips, he still drank coffee. They had that where he was? “It took us a bit but you came back just in time to give us a win.” Then her violet eyes snapped open and her palm pressed against his chest applying pressure until the mutant fell into his computer chair with a grunt. She then climbed back on top the genius’s lap and gripped the sides of his plastron looking him square in the eyes. “Now genius…..spill it, where the FUCK have you been?”

 His hands went back to her hips and let out a sigh, “That night when I disappeared I had an epiphany; I came down here with an idea that this thing could help us.” His long arm gestured to his most recent ride home and returned to her lower back to rub the pads of his fingers along her still exposed flesh.  “I was working to use it to access different dimensions….eventually: the nexus, new worlds but what if I used it for a simpler purpose? Move our soldiers from base to a target location to utilize the element of surprise? It would lower the chances of casualties by 30%. I was just going do a test honestly but I must have hit the wrong the button and found myself sucked into the arch and in a new world a very strange new world.”

 “How strange?”

 “Like another version of my brothers and I strange.”

 Aurora’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “More mutant turtles? Like you? Are you fucking kidding me?”

 “Yes I know, it was rather a large shock for me let me tell you. I dropped right into their lair right on top of another Michelangelo. They looked a little different than us, shorter, no clothes besides leather obi’s, knee and elbow pads. Younger versions with their Master splinter still alive, same dynamic though, with Leonardo still as leader. Their Donnie was brilliant; making miraculous things with trash, a very resourceful terrapin in deed. He had made a battle shell, a shell sub and a sewer slider, plus others. Anyways, naturally they were rather distressed seeing my tall ass drop in on them in their home unannounced. After a few hours of telling them my story, and talking about my own brothers and their similarities, Donnie and his brothers agreed to help me get home.  As you can see it took longer than we thought it would, finding the right components and a power source had proved more challenging than anticipated. Then finding the right coordinates proved another hurdle to overcome. I got here on accident so it was trial and error until I saw you the other day through the portal. It was the most glorious sight I had ever seen but the power course failed under the strain, which is why I couldn’t come through. We needed to reinforce it to support the transdimensional pull from the other dimensions trying to break through.  After we fixed that problem and your face appeared clear as day on the other side I knew we had gotten it right.”

 She looked at him absentmindedly running her palms over his exposed biceps, another dimension with more mutant turtle brothers? How many more she wondered quickly before shaking herself from the thought. “Did they have their own Bishop?”

 “Yes, actually they do, and strangely enough as Donnie and I were working one night he confessed his own trip to another dimension or terrible future, he wasn’t sure. It was around our timeline and age; I guess their Donnie had disappeared without a trace as well. Mikey had lost an arm, Raph his eye and Leo his entire eye sight. Casey had passed and the villain was shredder. He had enslaved the entire world killing master Splinter in the process which threw a massive wedge between Leo and Raphael, a very violent wedge that kept them apart for years.”

 “Fuck….I…”

 “There’s more…… they managed to defeat Shredder with Donnie’s help but Leo, Raph and Mikey perished in the fight. It happened years ago and it still gives him nightmares. It would me too, watching my brothers die right in front of me. I don’t think I’d ever recover.” Wiping away a stray tear Donatello gripped her body tighter remembering she had to witness them all ripped from her.  “All these years you had no idea what happened to me and then you lose the rest of them. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t get back sooner. I promise we’ll get them back.”

 She could see the anxiety rise in the genius as he began to process everything. How similar the scenarios were for both worlds and after everything he was still without most of his family. “Deep breaths Donnie, I need you level headed when we head back to base. I know we’ll get them back now that you’re back home. There’s a lot of work to be done and April and Casey are gonna be over the moon to see you. I’m so happy to see you.”

 She was about to remover herself from his lap when she felt the head of his cock nudge against her entrance and soon found herself stuffed full of her genius once again. Donnie took Aurora two more times before he relinquished his hold on her and allowed her to dress.

 Pulling her back into his embrace after watching Aurora tie her katana back to her hip Don pressed a few open mouthed kisses to her throat. “I’m sorry, I have four years of pent up need for you to work through. You’re not going to walk right for a week after I’ve had my fill.”

 His voice dropped at the delicious threat making her shiver at his continued advances and lean into his plastron. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

 The run back to base was pleasant with Donatello right by her side. His long legs made him naturally faster which pushed her harder to keep up with the lanky turtle but the occasionally view of his perfectly round cheeks wasn’t a bad thing either. She couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into them later tonight.

 “White skull to base.” Aurora called into her com as they moved to the final block of their trek home.

 “This is base, please go ahead White Skull.”

 “Will you tell The Curator and Meathead that I’m bring home a present.”

 “Will do, ETA?”

 “Five minutes.”

 “See you then.”

 Donnie slowed down looking at his kunoichi. “You’re not gonna tell them I’m coming?”

 “I wanna see their faces when they lay eyes on you. I wanna keep that memory forever and put it with the same one we’ll get when your brothers return home.”

 @imthegreenfairy88​ @ravn-87​ @alonia143​ @tmntspidergirl​ @blossom-skies​

[backtobackbakubabe]

I am the Alpha Now Part 18

Bakugo x Reader

Words : 3023

Masterlist

Reader is from America and somewhat of a delinquent with an alpha quirk that allows her to turn into a wolf as well as bond with dogs. She is sent to UA to straighten out her attitude. She ends up in a power struggle with none other than our favorite hot head. Words in Italics are words said telepathically.

************************************************************************

Bakugo started pacing, his boots stomping, his fists clenched in anger. If he wasn’t sure Hawks was somehow in on this before then he was now. The asshole slipped out at the first chance he got. “Mother fucking bird brain! I can’t believe him! I’m gonna find the son of a bitch and pluck out every last feather.”

Kirishima and Midoriya had followed him outside and where giving nervous glances to each other, neither one wanting to bet the one to talk to their ticking time bomb friend first.

Finally, Karishma’s shoulders slumped as he decided he was a little less destructible. “Hey bro. I know this is a stupid question… but are you doing alright? I mean besides the obvious y/n situation.” Kiri could see Bakugo open his mouth to argue but he cut him off before he could. “I mean you just look a little, I don’t know… unhinged. Have you slept at all since you left UA? You look exhausted.”

Bakugo growled, “I’ll sleep when I find her. It’s already been two fucking days, almost three since she went missing! Just cuz you extras need to take your little nap time to function doesn’t mean that I do.”

Kiri gave him a nervous look, “Bakugo, believe me, we all want her back safe. But you have to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. You won’t be much help if you pass out. Maybe we could just head back for a little bit. You can catch us up on what you’ve found since we left this morning maybe catch a quick couple hours of sleep.”

“I said I don’t need a fucking nap. I don’t have time…” Bakugo chewed on his lip as debated on whether he should tell them his new theories. He knew they probably wouldn’t believe him. He understood how crazy it sounded. But if they were going to help then they needed to know. “I think I know who took her… but it doesn’t exactly make sense.”

Midoriya could see the hesitation in his eyes. “Kacchan, whatever it is, you can tell us. We’ll keep it between us. Well us and Todoroki. He’d be here now, but he’s busy trying to get the new house put together. He’s still working on this though. He’s keeping a close eye on internet activity. He’s using his dad’s hero agency’s software to scan through for anything posted about Y/n.” Midoriya rubbed his neck, “It’s not exactly allowed, but I don’t think he cares either way.”

Bakugo looked around to see if anyone was listening. He gestured for the other two to follow him. He was nervous Hawks might still be hanging around somewhere. Finally, when he deemed it safe, he stopped and spun around to face them. “I think the League of Villains took y/n. Well specifically I think Dabi did.” Both Midoriya and Kirishima’s eyes bulged. Bakugo’s nostrils flared, “And I think Hawk’s is helping them.”

***************Y/N’S POV***********************************

Your eyes filled with tears, but it wasn’t the pain of Dabi burning your skin that provoked them. It was the helpless, useless, frustrated feeling that was festering in your chest. You couldn’t do what Dabi was asking you to do. You were trying, but you just… couldn’t do it.

You dug deep, you gave it everything you had, and yet you still had nothing to show for it.

“Come ON! Do you want that crusty creep to turn you to dust? Is that what you want? You want to leave that annoying loudmouth and precious little puppy behind.” You could feel your anger boiling over. But what was its source? Were you mad at yourself for not being able to do it. Were you mad at Dabi for trying to force you to do something you clearly couldn’t? Or maybe you were mad at both Dabi and Hawks for getting you into this fucked up situation. “What do you think will happen to them once you’re gone huh? Will your pooch go back to being just another dumb dog? Will their connection die without you? Will THEY DIE WITHOUT YOU? Who’s to say, maybe I’ll get mad and just kill them myself”

“STOP IT!” You fell to your knees. Fists clenched, eyes squeezed shut. “Shut up! Just shut the fuck up! I’m sick and tired of your annoying ass voice!”

You felt his scared hand grip your chin harshly, “Show me your eyes. Or are you scared I’m going to see you cry and finally understand how fucking weak you are?!“

Your eyes snapped open. They glowed brighter than you can ever remember. The bright blue only reflected in Dabi’s eyes. You could see that he had to squint just to see through it. The words that left your mouth were eerily calm. “I said… shut up.” You gripped the wrist that held your chin with one hand and with your other you broke his thumb and he screamed. “You don’t get to talk about my Mercy like that.” Your grip on his wrist tightened as you pulled out a staple on his hand, watching the blood flow. “How dare you threaten my pack.” You ripped out another staple. “My family.” Another staple. “The love of my life.”

Your eyes glowed brighter and you could feel pure Alpha power coursing through your veins. “Look at you. All stapled together like a patchwork quilt. And why? Because you’re the weak one.” You could see something in his eyes now, was it fear or something else you didn’t know. “I’m an Alpha.” You let go of his wrist and punched him in the face.

Dabi spit out blood and cradled his bleeding hand to his chest. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

********************** Bakugo POV**************************

Midoriya paced, “Kacchan. You have to know how crazy that sounds.”

Bakugo groaned, “I wouldn’t expect you to understand dumbass Deku. Did you even listen to anything I just said! I have proof!” His eyes bore into Kirishima’s “You believe me right Kiri?”

Kiri rubbed his neck nervously. “Come on man. You have to give us a little more to go off of. All of your proof is just guesses and gut feelings.” He raised his hands up in defense before Bakugo could start yelling at him. “Before you get mad at me, just know I’ll follow you wherever you go, no matter how crazy. But you really need to think this through. You say Dabi has her because you think you felt her being burned through the bond. A bond you also say she’s turned off. You think Hawk’s is in on it because you think you heard her moan in the background of a phone call. You say you think you know where she is because saw something in your head. Something that none of us could see, not even Mercy saw it. You have to understand how that’s not proof right?”

Bakugo started to grow. “Did you follow him like I asked?”

Kirishima looked back and forth between Midoriya and Bakugo in concern. He really thought his best friend might be losing it. “Did we follow who? Who are you talking to?”

Mercy walked out of the shadows. “He’s smarter than you think. He may not have seen me, but he knew he was being followed. I got a good whiff of him though so I should be able to track him down. Even now I can tell he still hasn’t left his apartment.”

“Good. Continue your patrol and report back to me in an hour.”

Bakugo could sense Mercy’s frustration. His fur was sticking up slightly as he showed his teeth. “I know we’re packmates, and I know we’re doing this for Y/n. But you need to remember that you aren’t my alpha any more than I am yours. Quit bossing me around.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes, “Oh give me a break. Are you really going to be a brat right now? You know I didn’t mean it that way. How about instead of bitching about who’s in charge of finding Y/n, we just focus on actually finding her huh?”

Mercy growled, “I’m not bitching, you’re just bossy.”

Before Bakugo could even respond, both of their eyes glowed bright for a brief moment. And in that moment they surged with power. So much power that Bakugo accidentally let off a small explosion.

Bakugo was staring at the hand that had just sent an explosion into a nearby dumpster while Midoriya was up and pacing again. “Okay. I’m just going to say it… What the fuck was that?”

************** Y/N POV*****************************

You could hear you heart pounding in your ears. Your vision started to tunnel. You smelled ash and you could taste blood. But feel? You couldn’t feel anything. You were completely numb. You looked down and was surprised to see your skin had a weird glow to it. You and Dabi had been going at it for a few minutes now. But it honestly felt like an hour had gone by.

All the power you summoned was draining and draining quick. It left you almost as fast as it came. You had blacked out during most of it so you assumed you had gone feral. It had been years since you had done so and you had forgotten about the toll it would take on your body. Were you hurt? Were you dying? You couldn’t tell. You were just numb. You sank to the floor, back pressed against the charred remnants of what used to be the couch. You could see Dabi’s chest rise and fall over to your right. He had passed out, but the fucker was still breathing.

You crawled over to him and fumbled through his pockets. You groaned as fatigue attempted to pull you under. Your fingers finally found what they were looking for and yanked it from his pocket. You focused as hard as you could on the screen in front of you trying to scroll through Dabi’s contacts. Dabi only had like ten numbers and yet you still struggled to find it in time.

You clicked dial and the name feather dick popped on the screen. After a few rings you heard him pick up. “Listen now’s not a good time. I think the mystery gang is onto us…”

Mystery gang huh? Would that make Katsuki, Fred or Shaggy? You chuckled, “It’s me.” You threw up rather loudly. “I think I need help…”

********************* Bakugo POV************************

“Did you seriously just say fuck? Mr. Perfect just swore?”

Midoriya narrowed his eyes, “God Damnit Kacchan! You’re the one out here having one sided conversations with dogs and spouting conspiracy theories, and your worried about me saying FUCK?”

Mercy cocked his head. It would have been cute if he hadn’t been baring his teeth only moments before. “This idiot knows you weren’t having a one-sided conversation, right?” He sniffed Midoriya causing him to stiffen, “I don’t like him.”

Bakugo snorted, “Yeah get in line.” He looked at Midoriya, “Listen if you care about your balls at all I’d stop talking about Mercy as if he’s not here. He’s smarter than you and shitty hair combined.”

Mercy nudged Bakugo’s hand in approval before resuming his sniffing. He went up to Kirishima and shoved his nose in his side, “This one I like. He smells sweet. But not too sweet.”

Kirishima chuckled, “I think what Bakugo’s trying to say is they have a bond we don’t understand.” He rubbed Mercy’s head fondly, “Just because we can’t prove they’re right, doesn’t mean they’re wrong either.” Mercy gave an exaggerated nod and a bark of confirmation. “I say we just go with it.” He shrugged. “If they’re wrong, the only thing we’ve wasted is time. If they’re right, then we find y/n…. seems worth it to me.”

Midoriya gave a long glance at Mercy before leaning down putting his face level with his, “I’m sorry if I offended you. It wasn’t my intention to belittle your intelligence… I’m sure having your alpha torn from you is hard and having Kacchan in your head 24/7 is probably making it even worse.” He ignored the seething look he was getting from Bakugo. “If you can promise to look out for him, and to somehow let me know that what he’s saying is true. I’d really appreciate it.”

Mercy gave a low humming noise, as if he was sizing Midoriya up. He was about to go off on him for even doubting Bakugo but suddenly his head whipped to the side. All of his muscles tensed, and a growl ripped through his chest. “Bakugo. Hawks is leaving his apartment and he’s moving fast.”

“Shit… Okay lead the way. Guys Hawk’s is on the move. Last chance to back out.��

After a few tense moments they both nodded and followed as Bakugo and Mercy took off.

It wasn’t long before they were back in the same district, they had been patrolling earlier that morning. Mercy came to a stop and looked up. “They’re here, now that we’re close enough, I can smell her.”

“Okay Deku and I can start from the top while Kiri and Mercy start on the bottom and we’ll work our way to the middle. Mercy and I can keep each other updated so-“ He pointed to his friends now, “you two idiots stay close to us.”

Without even waiting for a confirmation Bakugo blasted himself into the sky towards the top of the building with Midoriya quickly following after him. Kirishima sighed and looked at Mercy, “Not exactly subtle, is he?” Mercy whined and walked towards the entrance of the building. “Lead the way man. I’ll watch your six.”

*********************Y/N POV********************************

Thankfully you hadn’t passed out, but you still felt like shit. Three days of torture and hard work will do that to a person. The door slammed moments before you felt Hawks pulling your head into his lap. “Hey kid! Open your eyes and look at me.” You groaned at the idea. Even lifting your eyelids felt impossible. “You’re okay, you’re fine. You’re safe. Big bad Dabi is passed the fuck out. Let’s just get those eyes open yeah?”

You just groaned again like a petulant child before letting out a weak, “…no”

Hawk’s sighed, “I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay kid. But fine. Be stubborn. I’ll just have to-“

A loud explosion sounded from outside the building. Your heart pounded because you’d know that sound anywhere.

Before you knew it your head was being dropped back to the floor with a dull thud. “Shit.”

You could hear Hawks scurry over to Dabi, “Hey! Patchy! You need to get up and get the hell out of here. There are heroes here. I can still spin this in my favor. But you need to leave. Like NOW!”

You heard Dabi hiss as he tried to sit up and if you had the energy you would have smirked at the fact that you were the reason he was hurting. But then you remembered that you weren’t much better at the moment.

Dabi shuffled over to you, leaning over to speak directly into your ear. “You go along with whatever he says. Do you understand me? You air our dirty laundry and I’ll air yours. I just need to hit a button on my phone and your little secret is out.”

You took a deep breath and forced your eyes open. You could tell by the shocked look on his face that they were still glowing. This had to be a record. Usually they stopped as soon as the adrenaline wore off. “I’d get going if I were you. I may be too exhausted to kick your ass but I don’t think Katsuki will feel the same way.”

Dabi growled before forcing himself onto his feet and leaving the room.

You figured there was no point trying to hide from them anymore. They found you, the jig was up. You looked at Hawk’s pacing. “So what are you going to tell him?”

Hawks played with a feather as he brainstormed, “I’m going to say I received an anonymous tip and flew out here as soon as I could. Found you here, by yourself and that Dabi must have gotten away. I mean look at the place you guys tore it to pieces. It’ll be obvious I didn’t do this.”

You nodded knowing full well that Bakugo wouldn’t believe a word of that. “So is it okay for me to tell him where I am? I mean if you just “rescued” me then that would only make sense, right?”

You reached out before Hawks even said anything and felt for pack. The bond opened up and you were flooded with relief. Your eyes even teared up a little at the empty spot in your chest felt warm again. You could tell Bakugo was two floors above you while Mercy was three below. Sneaky boys. You hoped Mercy caught the chance to sink his teeth into Dabi.

“Y/n. Baby! I’m here where are you pup? Please tell me you are okay.” You brushed a tear aside. You could feel Mercy’s presence as well, but he must have been focusing on something else because he remained quiet. Maybe he did find Dabi after all.

“I’m fine. I’m two floors down from you-“

You heard a loud bang come from the other side of the door. Naturally your impatient boyfriend couldn’t be bothered to use the stairs. Nope. He came straight through the ceiling. Next thing you knew the door was blown from it’s hinges and he and Deku were rushing in.

He looked around frantically until his eyes met yours. He crossed the room in seconds and fell to his knees in front of you. He scooped you into his arms as his lips found the top of your head. “I’m here now pup. It’s okay. God damnit please don’t ever do this to me again.”

You gripped the front of his shirt and just breathed in his comforting scent. You allowed yourself to relax into him, “I’m sorry. I didn’t really have a choice. I’m so sorry.”

***********************************************************************

Tags: @tspice283 , @realityisoftendisapointing , @imbi-101 , @thoughtfulpandazine2, @hotarumorikawa , @huh-iwasntpayingattention , @starfishlovingbnha , @weebnumber3622 , @mixedfeeelings , @munchmunch01 , @inumorph@xxoperatexx @runrabbitrun3 @insane-without-delirium @yolei94

[silverandarsenic-hcs]

Ghost Slander

I know I’ve done this before sorta but this is the Finial List of all the shit that’s really just bad about them. the first half of each is serious bad stuff and the second half is just silly annoying shit they do. I am not apologizing for this so that’s that on that. I also still love them anyways.

Papa I:  too old to do anything. he may be strong and smart, but he’s old, and tired, and gets grumpy when he’s tired. and when he’s grumpy hes a fucking asshole. he really doesn’t want to do anything, like go out for a fun day in the city, or try new things. can’t teach an old dog ne w tricks, and he doesn’t even try tricks he’s known about for forty years. He can be boring, and he can be punchy and shitty when he’s annoying (I don’t mean like punchy as in hitting, just you know when you were grumpy as a kid and you get really irritated and annoyed and kind of just wanna have a hissy fit and cant control it???? that.)

Papa II:  Super emotionally unavailable and it just becomes taxing to try and get him to open up unless he’s ready and willing - which, spoiler alert, will never happen. He really does have a shitty temper and when he gets angry he sees red. Refuses to delegate tasks to other people around him because he thinks no one else can do it right. When he does, no matter what they do it’s never good enough and he makes all his interns cry and/or quit. for fun: he gets the “man flu” in which he will not take medication or go to the doctor until he literally has muscle dystrophy. thinks Advil or Tylenol is some hippy bullshit brainwashing pill invented by liberals that are trying to trick him into being happy. conspiracy theories. thinks aliens built the pyramids. watches ancient aliens in his spare time and never shuts up about it. Unable to use technology, and falls asleep in “special chair” at home. 

Papa III: cant take no for an answer. he doesn't understand when someone refuses his advances because all of the girls in the clergy falling all over him his whole life has made his head a little too big. if you want major fucking ego, he’s the brother for you. if you don’t want flowers, and you don’t want random extravagant things, he’s not the brother for you, because if you tell him you don’t like the things he’ll assume you hate him and decide that you shouldn’t be together anymore. sure, it comes from a place of caring and wanting to spoil his s/o, but fuck, bro, tone it down. He’ll also talk at you for hours even if you’re not listening just because he loves the sound of his own voice. It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to do something else, or are tired, or you just don’t care, he’ll stop talking when he’s ready and only then. For fun:  at a kids soccer game he would be That Dad that screams at the other kids like hes the assistant coach and probably be drunk and fist fight the other drunk dads in their lawn chairs. makes his s/o wax his back before they go to the beach or anywhere he has to be shirtless. its gross and hairy and he wouldn't care if his s/o didn’t bully his persian-rug body into it so hard one time he canceled a vacation. 

Copia: He has no back bone. He’ll work until people give him what wants but he’ll never come right out and say it, in any kind of relationship or work. You’ll constantly be guessing whether or not what he said has a second meaning and if it’s really want he wants or he’s been waiting for you to figure it out the whole time. It’s fucking annoying. He’ll never be the one to put his foot down, or silence a room, or command attention like the other papa’s have, he just doesn’t have it in him. For fun: Calls his stomach his “spare tire” like what the fuck who says that?? Talks to everyone, you literally have to drag him away from talking to strangers. The person next to him at the cafe has their headphones in and he’s just chatting away. Small talk but just gets worse, and he subjects everyone to it.  rides one of those bikes where you're basically lying down and doesn't shut the fuck up about how low impact it is on your back and knees. thinks the government is out to get him and everyone else but doesn't put two and two together and still has a google home thing or an alexa, buys that facebook skype camera thing for your tv that literally follows you when he walks. he just thinks their neat.

Dewdrop: Has a hot temper and genuinely gets mean when he lashes out. He doesn’t care that everyone has to chase after him all the time and has no remorse for what they have to do for him or what he ruins for them. He’s gonna do whatever he want’s whenever he wants and no one can tell him otherwise - everyone thinks this is so fun and quirky and great until it’s been a few months and they’re wondering why Dew hasn’t calmed down even a little. He’s too self obsessed to even care what other people want for him. A total mess wherever he goes, eats all the soap and candles and doesn’t replace them. 

Swiss:  saying someone is too good at everything doesn't sound like an insult, but it does when they brag about it. Swiss has always been the multi ghoul, meaning hes always been pretty good at everything, but never specialized in something. so rather than do more to hide the fact he’s a jack of all trades but master of none, he just brags about every tiny little thing he does. hes like 6′ but his ego is like 8′4″. Insanely jealous in relationships which can cause problems. he’s a liar. there. i said it. unless he’s your s/o, if his mouth is moving, it’s probably a lie. whether hes bigging up his own adventures, or trying to cover his tracks about where he was and who he was with, its probably all bullshit. the only reason he doesn’t lie to his partners is because he HATES being lied to in return and if he has feelings for you its a little harder to just shut you out once you realize he’s full of it. He mostly lies for fun, and partly just to see what people will really believe, so it get’s wilder and wilder every time. Refuses to do anything that’s boring to him like clean or do laundry, but he hates disgusting messes so he’ll just pay someone else to do it. 

Mountain: Disgustingly messy. When I walk into a room i leave a hurricane of my shit everywhere, but if you took an actual hurricane and put it in his bedroom, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. No one in the whole church will go near his room, partly for the smell, partly for the fact of that there is no where to stand that isn’t a foot high with garbage and dirty clothes. If he cleaned his room i think a new disease would be unlocked. Super stubborn, and inpatient. He’s pretty chill, but refuses to wait for anything without getting super annoyed, and it’s impossible to change his mind about literally anything once it’s made up. Trying to debate him about anything is a fucking nightmare. 

Aether:  when you’ve been together for a while, and you’re comfortable with each other, things can get boring. he’ll stop taking you on dates every week, and stop thanking you profusely for everything you do, and stop treating you like a queen. things will get stale quickly, so unless you’re into routine, steer fucking clear or you're doomed.  when he’s in a shitty mood, he will say literally anything to you to get you away from him. he just wants to be left alone and if you wont let that happen he’ll break up with you, tell you to fuck off, tell you to get away from him, tell you to go fuck yourself, whatever it takes. he doesn’t mean it, and even if he knows that deep down, you’re still causing the problem by existing, in his mind. refuses to accept that there may be a different way to do things. it’s Aether’s way or the highway and that's it. he thinks that if somethings easier, or faster than the way he does it, then it’s not being done right, and it’s fucking annoying how he wastes so much time doing stupid simple tasks because its the way he was taught and its the way he’ll do them until he dies

Rain: A baby. An actual baby. Needy and clingy and even a little bit pathetic sometimes. Here and there it can be cute and you might feel the need to nurture him, but honestly most people can’t handle it all the time but for Aether. He constantly needs attention in the exact way he wants and if he doesn’t get it he’ll whine and cry and try and make you feel like shit. Maybe it’s manipulation, maybe it’s not. Who knows. But you have to make sure he eats properly, make sure he gets dressed properly, make sure he sleeps, pretty much be a parent to him half the time. The amount of emotional labor is borderline slavery. His attitude is insane, and he’s sassy and bossy all the time as if he’s actually in control, and if you tell him otherwise he’ll scream (at the top of his lungs). Uses baby talk at an inappropriate timing and makes people uncomfortable  sometimes.

Cumulus: Collects tiny little themed knick knacks that are literally everywhere and take up all the space in her and Cirrus’ little sapphic cottage. Nosey and wants to know everyone’s business all the time. The only person she tells is Cirrus but she won’t rest unless she knows every detail about a persons life and drama.

Cirrus: Leaves all the lights on wherever she goes. Leaves all the cupboards open. All the lights are on so much that it lights up the whole house all night, and people call them to tell them to either close their blinds or turn the fucking lights off.

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: Leopards"

Dionysus: *just cuddling with his like 30 leopards and tigers*

Apollo: *comes over from Delos to visit but finds dionysus straight up trying to assimilate with the big cats* ...um....doing good there dio?

Dionysus: can't talk, doing leopard stuff. *Lays on his back purs*

Apollo: ......well I just came over to say h-OW! *a young leopard play nibbled his ankle* your pets are out of control.

Dionysus: not now apollo, I must commune with thee cats. *Plays with one of their paws. *Softly and quietly* peets.

Apollo: *takes a deep breath* ok fine...just don't over do it.

*days later*

Apollo: *after playing a small consert to some of his followers* -and now wonderw-*gets tapped on the shoulder* ?!

A satyr: um...yes are you apollo?

Apollo: .......yes.

Satyr: yeah can you help us? Lord dionysus hasn't been seen in days and some of our cattle have disappeared.

Apollo: oh my fucking self he's been eaten by his own cats. *says in a monotone voice but his body betrays his worry, gets up and runs to his chariot*

*later*

Ares: *sharping his sword*

Artemis: *scoping out the landscape*

Hermes: *sitting down knowing damn well this is going to all go stupid.* .....you guys DO realize this could be just dionysus going on a "walkabout" right?

Ares: don't care. He's long gone, and I'm gonna take his head.

Artemis: Ares, we were told by dad NOT to kill him.

Apollo: *sees the rest of the gods and screechea to a halt* WHERES DIO-*gets shushed by Artemis*

Artemis: shhhuuuuuu there he is. *Points to a disheveled and feral looking dionysus*

Hermes: oh cool he's COMPLETELY reverted back to a primal state.

Ares: well there's no saving him now, his head going to look really cool.on m-*gets hit in the head by Artemis*

Artemis: moron, ok, I've set traps in various locations around Delphi. We should be able to capture him.

Apollo: looks like he hasn't drank in days?

Hermes: as long as you don't rope me into being a distraction I'll be just fine.

Artemis: That's a perfect idea! Go down there and see if you can get dionysus to follow you.

Apollo: if you say no, I will personally find a way to make every step you take feel like a bad case of HOT FOOT.

Hermes: .......damn it. Fine. *Runs down the hill to get dionysus to follow him but gets caught in a net trap* FUCK!

Dionysus: *grunts and growls, then runs back into the forest on all fours with the rest of his leopards*

Artemis: ......maybe we shouldn't of asked.

Ares: I c-

Artemis and Apollo: NO!

Ares: fine. *Puts his sword away*

*later*

Apollo: *writes in a note pad* "Day 48 of hunting down dionysus, supplies are getting low, team moral is at its lowest, and we haven't found any traces of dionysus in the past week, I fear may have lost hi-"

Artemis: Apollo it's been 7 hours you twink, it's not like as if this is going to last forever.

Apollo: In that case you're a twink!

Artemis: No I'm femine-butch.

Apollo: Wait we're twins wouldn't that mean we're both femine-butch and twink?

Ares: hey I found something. *Points to claw marks on a tree*

Hermes: epic, now all we need to do is find di-*feels a drop on something on his shoulder and sees the glowing eyes of like 30 big cats plus dionysus*

Ares: ....should we run?

Hermes: oh no that would be rude Ares, we should invite them over for some tea.

Ares: w-

Hermes: IM BEING SARCASTIC YOU ASSHOLE RUN! *obviously does what he does*

Ares: *his flight or fight mode is still calibrating after hermes's comment* but I don't like tea....

Dionysus: *leaps from the tree at Ares*

Ares: COME ON YOU FUZZY BA-*gets nearly crushed under dionysus and two other leopards* *with the wind knocked out of him* fuk you no surrender....

Artemis: *hearing the commotion* We will discuss this later!

Apollo: FINE! *followers her*

Hermes: *hiding in a tree and sees the twins* oh good you're here!

Artemis: What the fuck are you doing can't you tame animals or something?!?

Hermes: NOT LEOPARDS WHOVE BEEN BROUGHT UP ON WINE AND GOAT MEAT!

Dionysus: *completely in the mental state of a leopard* gggrrrrr

Apollo: *suddenly remembers a trick he saw dionysus do a month earlier* .....*takes a small glass lens he keeps to see small print, makes a little light and shines a small lazer like beam next to some of the big cats*

Ares: DUDE THAT TRICK WORKS WITH ANTS!

Apollo: shut up. *Points it at another direction*

Dionysus and several of the cats: ◉w◉ *stare at the little light, some tries to paw at it*

Apollo: *moves the light away from Ares*

Artemis: ... holyshit how did you?

Apollo: come on, follow the light....

Dionysus: ◉w◉ *leaps and tries to get the light*

Apollo: perfect.

Ares: dude you supposed to burn them m-

Hermes: DUDE SHUT UP.

Ares: *feels the weight of the Leopards off of him* oh cool.

Apollo: *slowly walks and makes a following of big cats and dionysus follow the light*

*later after calming the big cats and tying down dionysus*

Apollo: ....ok let's see if this works.

Hermes: *has two amphoras of wine and tries to feed one to dionysus but he keeps biting it* .....*opens one up and just slips it on his head* there you go.

Apollo: Hermes!

Hermes: what he will lick it off his face look.

Dionysus: *licks some wine and slowly gets back to his normal state of mind* Holyshit dudes.....I WAS ABLE TO BE A LEOPARD! You guys should try it sometimes it's really enlightening. It was like a journey into my inner mind and shit.....plus I got more play time.

Ares: Fuck you man you and your stupid cats nearly killed me...*sees apollo staring at him because he isn't considering the people* .oh and have been randomly killing livestock for like several days. That's ugh...not cool too I guess.

Hermes: see...I told you guys he was on a thing. Besides I've probably never seen these animals actually kill anyone without dionysus telling them....for all we know they were just roughhousing.

Ares: *being the king of roughhousing, grumbles under his breath* dude fuck off I know what roughhousing is and I'm pretty certain that was no fucking roughhousing.

Some Satyrs and Maenads: *all huddle around and hug dionysus for being safe and sound*

Dionysus: awwww guys it's ok, also there's a feild specifically for my Leopards dude I was hunting there the whole time.

A maenad: it's true my lords, the livestock we were referring were from the local farmers.

Apollo: ..... seriously?

Dionysus: *a leopard comes to lick some of the wine off of him* yeah, I taught them not to go after farm animals. *Cuddles with the Leopards* ain't that right Conney?

Apollo: ....hmmmm so....you weren't actually in any danger or being the danger?

Artemis: *coming back from one of the farms* yeah...those weren't Leopards...um... dionysus are there wolves out here on Delphi?

Dionysus: no why?

Artemis: *looks at the mountain* ........ugh...no reason.....*feels an ominous presence in the air*.....Hmmm.....

Hermes: ....... Artemis....

Artemis: yeah?

Hermes: do...you think.... It's him?

Artemis: hopefully not.....dad said he hadn't seen him in decades let alone recently.

Hermes: ....do you think it's connected to the disappearances in Sparta and Athens?

Artemis: let's just hope those are just disappearances of a different nature...

Apollo: *notices the weird dark edgy superhero dialogue Artemis and Hermes are having* .....*sigh* this is why I stay at home.

Ares: *getting gnawed on by one of the leopards* OH GODS STOP IM NOT A CAT PERSON!

Leopard: *purrs like crazy*

[frenchie-sottises]

Monster. (Underfell!Papyrus X Reader.)

Run.

That’s all you could think of.

Run.

She was closing in on you.

Run.

The door wasn’t much further.

RUN.

Your hands firmly held the handle and pulled it. The door swung open, and you took the chance and darted out. The unholy screech of fear and desperation pierced your ears and into your very soul. However, just because you were on the other side, it didn’t mean that nothing would stop her from opening it and snatching you back in.

Your feet immediately started treading through the harsh snow. Your heart was still racing, allowing you to ignore the harsh cold nipping at any exposed skin you may have had. You tried to rid the horrific noise she made by focusing on where you were now. You were always told, by multiple people, that you should never look back. That kind of lesson could apply to many things, but in this context, you were away from the goat monster and now in an environment where anything could pop out of these woods.

You continued in your most applicable choice of footwear. The tread marks were, unfortunately, imprinted in the snow. As much as you thought about covering them up, you soon realized that going back meant you would leave even more footprints, so it was best to continue forward. A few steps ahead was a log, one large enough to make an appropriate resting spot, but you knew well enough from the flower that it was “kill or be killed.” Any point of resting, especially in an open area, would put you at risk for God knows what, so you quietly sighed as you stepped over it.

You yawned once your heart started to finally slow down. It showed just how drained you were since the moment you understood that Toriel was mentally unstable. It further didn’t help that weakness began to show itself in your legs, making you regret stepping over the log more with every second. Despite your body’s protests, you kept going.

Not lingering too far behind was a broad skeleton wearing a typical winter jacket. He, for once, didn’t rest and make puns with the monster on the other side like he normally did. He suspected something was awry, and he wasn’t wrong for acting on those suspicions. However, he didn’t expect those suspicions to involve such a weak creature.. or so he thought.

He stood before the log you stepped over and grimaced upon it. His usual toothy grin contorted into a snarl as he lifted his leg, unleashing a loud CRUNCH from within its lifeless bark, and making your head snap around as he vanished from existence.

Well, that made you look back.

You decided to keep going, knowing fully well that going back was one of the stupidest decisions in existence to make. While your weakness was debilitating enough to cross out the option of running, it didn’t stop you from picking up the speed of your walking pace. It was only a few more feet till you were forced to stop, as the bars in front of you were too narrow to squeeze through. You thought about going around, as the gate did end, but looking over and seeing the spikes made you realize that it was just as pointless.

You analyzed the door and noticed that it lacked the typical lock and chain you’d often see on media. In fact, it didn’t even have a lock from the looks of it, which only confused you more as you know what prison doors looked like. Nevertheless, you saw this as an advantage and decided to try and open it. Your first instinct was to go one way, but it didn’t budge, so you tried the opposite direction, in which it still didn’t move. You then tried to see if maybe it would slide, as some doors can do just that. Even this proved to be completely useless.

“Fuck my life.” you muttered.

A deep chuckle sent your heart racing again. You had no choice but to turn around and see the bony monster laughing at your frustrations.

“It’s a decoy, human.” he croaked.

Despite your heart racing, your face expressed more of an annoyance at the statement than fear of the monster in front of you. Of course it was a decoy. A cruel joke had to happen at some point.

His shark-toothed grin widened at your expression. He even started to shake, a shake usually shown by someone who tries to hold in their laughter. You wanted to smile in response to him laughing, but you were torn between it and the possibility of whatever may happen to you now that you’re interacting with him.

He held his hand out, “Oh, where are my manners. I’m Sans, by the way.”

You stared at the hand for a moment, but deciding to not be rude as you were weak, you decided to go ahead and shake it. You yelped as a shock of electricity struck through your body, making whatever hair you had stand on edge. By this point, Sans was audibly laughing.

“The good ol’ joy buzzer!” he exclaimed, “Shit never gets old!”

Yeah… never gets old. Not the best timing right now.

You sighed as you tried to calm your nerves. The skeleton himself was soon calmer than you’d wish to be and stared at your shaken frame.

“Calm down. I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m not really into that sort of thing anyway.” he smiled.

You furrowed your brows, but believe it or not, you knew about the existence of other universes, so you knew this version of Sans wasn’t supposed to be a threat till much later. With this info in mind, you felt your nerves ease down.

“My brother, however,”

Oh god, that’s right.

“he’s a bit of a human fanatic. Hell, I’d say maniac.” he chuckled fakely.

Sans was nothing compared to Papyrus.

You turned your head towards the skeleton with a concerned expression on your face. He saw it and immediately put his hands up.

“Hey, hey. There’s nothing to be concerned about. Just because he’s a human maniac doesn’t mean he’s that scary.” he stated as he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, “He just… doesn’t know his boundaries sometimes. He doesn’t really show his excitement, so people tend to see him as a ‘crêpe.’”

You showed a small expression of annoyance at the pun, as it wasn’t the best time to do so right now, but you decided to ignore the pun and focus on what he said. You were confused. You knew this Sans, so you would know about this universe’s respectful Papyrus. Papyrus was always depicted as loud and gruff, but was actually quite friendly once you got to know him. Some other people depicted him as very unmerciful and murderous, so to hear Sans say that he “doesn’t know his boundaries” triggered mixed signals in your head. Your red flags wanted to go off, but knowing how most depictions are, you wanted to see for yourself how he truly was.

Sans looked at the gate, and then back at you.

“Hang on, kid. I’ll help you get ‘pasta’ this.” he chuckled as he snapped his fingers.

In a flash, you both disappeared and reappeared on the other side. You shivered as you felt the static run through your body. The broad skeleton only chuckled at your expression.

“You’ll get used to it, kid.” he stated, “It’s nothing to be too ‘shocked’ over.”

These puns made you wanna punch him and laugh at them at the same time.

Regardless, Sans’s smile was soon gone, “You might wanna hide behind my station, kid. Usually when I’m gone this long, he goes to look for me.”

He had a point. The brothers, in most universes, were pretty close, so it would make sense that Papyrus would arrive soon if he went out to look for his brother. You quickly walked over and crouched down into the open cupboard. It wasn’t long till you heard the crunching of another monster, which was guaranteed to be him.

Sans acted like he was still looking for anything out of the ordinary as he turned to face his brother, “Hey, boss.”

“Sans, for the last time. You do not have to call me that.” the taller skeleton sighed in vexation.

The shorter skeleton gave his usual grin, “Sorry, bro.”

Your ears raised at the rich tone in his voice. Most people depict him with a voice similar to the classic Papyrus, only making it deeper and far rougher as to fit his intimidating appearance. You weren’t expecting something to be the equivalent of what chocolate ganache would sound like. It sent chills down your spine already, which began to strike your temptations to peak around from inside the cupboard.

Papyrus analyzed his surroundings before looking back at his brother, “Have you found anything anomalous?”

Sans shook his head, “Nah, bro. Have you?”

The taller skeleton sighed in disappointment, “Unfortunately no. I even contacted Dogamy and Dogaressa for any possible findings, but they reported to me with nothing. I truly believed that this would be the day to capture another human.”

Sans’s expression turned into one of empathy, “Sorry, bro. Maybe next time.”

“You can only say that so many times, Sans.” Papyrus mumbled.

He shrugged, “Maybe, but it’s gotta happen eventually, right? Six have fallen already.”

As the two began discussing the subject at hand, you finally decided to take the risk. You slowly began to shift and turn to peak around the corner. You got as low as you possibly could, knowing how tall some monsters can be. As Sans kept Papyrus occupied, you managed to peak one eye around the corner.

Seeing the sight of him sent more chills down your spine. His voice suited him, but you may have underestimated how well it did suit him. He was tall for one, easily over eight feet. However, your eyes kept drifting from one area to another upon his appearance. Aside from the height, he was hefty for a skeleton. You guessed “big boned” wasn’t just something the shorter skeletons went by, as it was clear that the “bones” that made up his arms were defined in a similar manner to muscles. Your eyes then drifted to his armor, especially those massive shoulder pads. They heaped over the bulky pauldrons and swooped upwards in a proud fashion. They were outlined in gold, which shimmered in what light was being produced from above. They were even accompanied by several more, which weren’t as detailed, giving the pads a sense of dominance.

Your eyes then drifted to his gauntlets, which were a deep, blood red. They were spiked, but in a manner that looked more like they were there for the purpose of being tools rather than just for looks. For what purpose? You didn’t really know the answer to that. You went further down and saw his claws, which, considering the distance between you and him, were impressive. If those are his actual claws, you wondered how he did anything with them.

You went down the torso and saw the many scars on his spine, which made you question why he wasn’t wearing anything for his midriff. Hell, the same could be said for his arms, as they didn’t have much protection either. From the front and back, maybe, but not from the sides. It didn’t stop you from noticing the skull on his belt, though. It seemed to show similar expressions with Papyrus himself, and it only led you to guess it was just some magic thing monsters had.

His pants appeared to be a type of latex, as it shined within the light. In spite of that, your eyes couldn’t stop staring at the boots. They were the same blood red like his gloves, but the top edges of them had a gold-on-black diamond pattern. They were outlined in gold just like the rest of his armor. Knee high and high heeled, he stood proudly in them. You would be able to see more of his appearance, but the scarf he wore hung all the way down past his butt.

You tried to stick out more as he wasn’t looking, but son of a gun if he hadn’t have moved like he did. Your head shot back behind the station, heart racing again. You hoped he hadn’t seen you, but your temptations were going wild again. You didn’t get to see his face. You got to see everything else except his face.

You decided to try the same tactic. By this point, he should’ve been busy with his brother. Yes, this was a dangerous environment, but if he was anything like the other depictions, he would be used to doing it so often. This meant that there was a chance of him not seeing you, as he’s so used to seeing everything in a certain order. You ducked your head down low again and peaked around the corner, silently gasping from what you saw.

You gravely underestimated how fitting his voice was. He was far more artistic compared to other portrayals, especially since he wore thick eyeliner. Said eyeliner looked like the original “cat eye” eyeliner used by Egyptians, which brought you home a sense of connection with the rest of his outfit. Seeing the eyeshadow made you realize that, unlike the others, this Papyrus actually wore makeup. His eyeshadow was a deep red, and it glittered in the light. From above, he sported definite eyebrows. They had to be drawn on, cause they were just too sharp to be natural. You then noticed his mouth as it moved. You knew skeletons had teeth on display, but it appeared that it wasn’t exactly the same kind of case with this monster. The “teeth” that were visible moved more like lips, and in some angles, you could’ve sworn you saw a “second” pair of teeth from behind.

As your eyes went back up, you froze. You were now caught by his eyes. They were black, but irises and pupils showed themselves from within the darkness. They glowed despite there already being light, but it was all beginning to be too much for your senses. They may have intimidated others, but you saw eyes full of passion and libido, and it was starting to make you weak.

You couldn’t help it.

He was fucking sexy.

You physically pulled yourself back as he moved to leave. Your heart was now racing, but it was no longer racing out of fear, but out of yearning. You heard the sounds of crunching from Sans, and you turned to see him towering over you.

“You’re safe now, kid.” he rasped, “He should be gone for a good while.. Why are you blushing?”

Oh fuck.

He soon made the connection in his head, “Kid, what the fuck?! How long have you been staring at him?!”

You nervously shrugged.

He only facepalmed, “Great. All that work for nothing.”

You apologized in your typical manner, but it was only responded with a sigh of disappointment.

“I hope you realize that just because he doesn’t seem to notice you doesn’t mean he actually hasn’t.” he grumbled.

You lowered your head in guilt. He distracted his brother for a reason, and you blew it. You wanted to mention to him why, but Sans already knew.

“I don’t think some of you humans have preferences when it comes to what’s attractive to you, don’tcha?” he asked.

You rocked your head from one side to another before shrugging. Some people did, but others were into weird shit. You weren’t exactly sure if being into a skeleton was the start of being on the freakier side of things.

Sans seemed to understand what was said, “I see. Guess you’re just someone who doesn’t want to be ‘bonely.’”

A chuckle managed to escape your throat. You were starting to feel more comfortable with him around, especially seeing how he distracted his brother just for you. Even though he might turn on you later, a small victory is still a victory.

“The underground’s dangerous, kiddo,” he explained, “but as long as you managed to stay away from my brother and the dogs, you should be fine.”

You nodded as you got up from being in such a small space. You stretched and thanked Sans as you went about on your way. You knew how dangerous the underground was, so it was only a matter of time till you suffer your first murder here. Sans only watched as you went on your way.

“God, I hope Paps doesn’t find them.” he muttered. __________________________________________________

Oh hey, I managed to write another X Reader. This time it’s with a skeleton.

Word count: 2,791.