#take all your wokeness away because it sure as hell does not help the rest of the world

[redvelvetwishtree]

Lmao you guys cannot "antisemitism" your way out of this anymore, that's old tactics which don't work anymore.

Can you also prepare a word for what's happening in Palestine? It's so enraging I can't put into words my anger and upset anymore.

[strang3lov3]

Bedridden

If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 🍆💦❤️‍🔥

Joel is sick and refuses to rest, so you knock him out the best way you know how. (5.4k)

Tags - smut, lotsa sexual tension, blow jobs, pussy pronouns, teasing, fingering, unprotected piv, riding the sick old man’s cock, creampie, non-graphic descriptions of being sick. JOEL DOES THE DAD SNEEZE. coughing, fevers. That’s all. Joel is stubborn and grumpy while you take care of his old as fuck ass. Arguing with the old man, forcing the old man to bathe, forcing the old man to eat and drink, forcing a thermometer in the old man’s mouth. Joel bitching you out the whole time. Joel is kind of exactly like Dennis in IASIP when the gang gets quarantined. Fic Help - My usuals! @beefrobeefcal, your unhinged comments on the doc were the best part. and @endlessthxxghts thank you for your help <3 A/N - Heyyyyyyy. I promised this fic yesterday and then didn’t deliver. Sorry. It just needed to marinate in the doc a little longer or something. It’s been a bullshit ass few days and I’m,,,,handling it. Anyway, I’ve been sick as balls so that’s how this fic came about. Everybody wash your hands 🧼

There’s a fine point late in the year, right after summer turns to fall. You can fall asleep with the window over your bed cracked open just an inch to let the crisp, cool air blow over your face as you cocoon yourself in blankets. In the mornings you wake to that same breeze and the birds chirping, though less and less as they fly south for the upcoming winter. 

Not this morning, though. This morning, you’re awoken by a chesty, hacking cough coming from outside your window. You sigh as you get out of bed and push the curtains away from the window to get a better look at what the hell is going on out there. 

And it’s just your neighbor, Joel. You should have guessed it’d be him, you heard his earth shattering, deafening sneeze the other day when you waved to him as you walked by his house. Joel waved back at you with the same hand he sneezed into. Ew. 

Everyone’s getting sick lately, it goes around quickly in Jackson. Always does - it starts with the kids and works its way through the community, and a good four to six weeks are filled with endless sneezing and coughing and mucus.

Joel’s coughing up his lungs as he rakes up the leaves in your yard, a job he’s seemingly assigned himself, because you sure as shit didn’t ask him to do this. He has a habit of taking on your chores and home maintenance out of his own frustration. 

You pull a robe over your pajamas and slide on a pair of slippers, then leave out of the front door to greet Joel. “Good morning, Joel.” 

Joel clears his throat. “S’actually noon, lazy ass. ‘Bout time ya woke up.”

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing?”

“Exactly what it looks like.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Gross. “M’workin’.” 

“Yeah, I see that. But you sound sick.” 

Joel ignores the accusation, “Your yard looks like shit, by the way,” he says. “Wouldn’t kill ya to rake once in a while. ‘Stead of makin’ me do it.” 

“You choose to do this. I don’t make you do anything,” you argue, rolling your eyes. It’s funny, though. Joel’s turning into the caricature of the old man angrily shaking his fist at kids playing on his lawn. All crotchety and pissed off about nothing. You step closer to him and wrap your hand around the handle of the rake, pulling it towards yourself. “Besides, Mother Nature put those leaves there for a reason,” you add. 

“Sure, smartass. For you to ignore and for me to clean up. Now, give it,” Joel tugs the rake back. Whatever. You let him. Joel rakes more of your leaves into the pile he’s created, then doubles over in another coughing fit. You rub your palm on his back, patting him gently. He’s sweating through his flannel. “Oh, Christ. Fuck me.” 

“Joel, you look awful.”

You help him stand up, “You’re a terrible flirt, darlin’,” Joel replies dryly. But he knows you’re not wrong. He saw in the mirror how pale he looked this morning, the dark circles around his eyes. 

“Oh, shut up.” You press the back of your hand against Joel’s forehead, all sweaty and warm. “You’re burning up, Joel. You’re sick.” 

“I am not sick,” Joel protests through another cough. “I’m fine. How ‘bout you worry ‘bout yourself ‘stead of fussin’ over me.”

“You’re hacking up a lung in my yard. I’ll worry about you all I want, thank you.”

In response, Joel grumbles something you can’t quite make out. You roll your eyes and take the rake from him, dropping it on the grass. “My rake,” Joel murmurs, annoyed and defeated. With your work clearly cut out for you, you take his hand and lead him into your house. “Aw, hell. What’re you doin’ to me.” 

“Taking care of you,” you reply.

“Didn’t sign up for this bullshit,” Joel complains. “I don’t need takin’ care of.”

Oh, he’s a peach. Most men, when sick, are total babies - pathetically crying about their headaches and stomachaches to women who deal with the same symptoms on a monthly basis. It’s charming, truly. But not Joel, though. In his stubbornness, Joel refuses to ever admit when he’s sick, like he’s got something to prove. Can never let himself be taken care of, because that’s his job - to take care of others. Always has been. 

Once inside, you have Joel take off his boots, then usher him to the bathroom with a hand on his back, his flannel damp with sweat. “Sit.” You reach for Joel’s shoulders and push him down, forcing him onto the lidded toilet. You crouch down at the bathtub and plug the drain with the stopper, then turn the water on - not too hot, not too cold. “Yeah, this is good. This’ll make you feel so much better.” 

“Oh, c’mon. Turn off the damn water. I’m not takin’ a bath.” 

“You are, too.” 

“Am not.” 

“Joel,” you bite. Joel parrots your name back in the same threatening tone.

“We’re breaking that fever one way or another, Joel. So you bathe yourself, or I’ll do it.” 

Joel cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, will ya, now?”

You go quiet, no retort to his comment. Heat rises to your cheeks and you focus on the bathtub filling with water to avoid Joel’s taunting gaze. After a long enough silence passes, Joel changes the subject. “I don’t have any clean clothes, y’know.” 

“Then I’ll grab you some from your house,” you mumble.

“Mm,” Joel grunts. “Got an answer for everything, don’tcha?”

You glare. Joel glares too. You fold your arms across your chest and raise your eyebrows at him. You are not losing this battle. 

Joel sighs in defeat. “Alright, go on an’ get, then. I’ll take the fuckin’ bath if it’ll get me fifteen minutes away from you obsessin’ over me. There. Happy?” 

“Happy.”

You leave Joel in the bathroom to bathe himself, closing the door behind you. Still wearing nothing but pajamas and a robe, you change quickly into a hoodie and jeans, then leave through your front door for the second time.

Joel’s house is right next to yours, so it’s not a long walk. Mentally, you’re kicking yourself for your stupid threat to bathe Joel. The way he responded to it, ‘Oh, will ya?’ and how bashful that made you, the embarrassment written all over your face in big, black, permanent marker. Your crush on the older man is obvious, and Joel, never the gentleman, will jump at any opportunity to make you squirm. Like when he catches your eyes lingering on him for a little too long, he’ll tease you for it. “S’rude to stare, y’know,” he’ll taunt, always with that stupid fucking grin on his face. Smile lines framing his cheeks, crows feet handsomely peeking at the corners of his eyes. You really need to stop setting yourself up for these things. 

Once in Joel’s house, you head upstairs for his bedroom and rifle through his dresser drawers for some comfy clothes. You pick out a pair of plaid boxers, some gray sweatpants, and a navy waffle-knit henley. You bunch up his clothes and inhale, Joel’s natural smell still lingering in the clothes, even washed. 

In his kitchen, you notice some vegetables sitting out on his countertops. Carrots, potatoes, onions. You grab those too, then check the fridge for leftover chicken or turkey or something. He usually has some, and usually brings it to you after he’s had his fill. “This is for you, trouble. Cause y’don’t eat enough,” he’ll gruff. “Would you like me to heat it up for ya?” And whether you say yes or no, he always does. It seems to make him happy or fulfill him somehow, so you let him take care of you like that. If only he’d let you return the favor.

Bingo. There’s chicken in old Tupperware right on the top shelf, and yesterday’s date written in Joel’s terrible handwriting from an old, dried up Sharpie. You take that too, then go back home. 

You leave Joel’s food you stole on the kitchen table and stop at your linen closet for a fresh towel. You knock on the bathroom door, “Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’.”

“I have your clothes. And a towel.”

“Good. I need those,” Joel says. “C’mon in, then.” 

You open the door, averting your eyes from Joel’s naked body in the bathtub. “Relax. M’not gonna let you see somethin’ you ain’t ‘sposed to.” He’s got his hands covering his manhood, the rest of himself on display - toned biceps, veined forearms. His belly is pillowy and hairy and his legs look so long, all bare like this. His toes peeking out of the soapy bathwater. You set the towel and his clothes down on the toilet, stealing an even longer look at him when you think he doesn’t notice. “I see ya snoopin’, trouble. Wanna take a picture?”

You roll your eyes and ignore the offer, turning your attention to Joel but keeping your eyes focused on his face. His hair is slicked back, and his grays pop out against the rest of his dark hair, little ringlet curls at his neck. The asshole is criminally handsome. 

“Are you feeling better?”

“I feel fine. Like I’ve felt all day,” Joel lies. His body betrays him instantly when another cough wracks through him. 

“Right. Well, you smell better, at least.” 

Joel rolls his eyes, “Nice one, sweetheart. Thanks. Now scram, so I can get dressed.” 

You leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind yourself again. You can hear the sound of the bathtub draining and Joel getting out of the tub as you stop at the linen closet again, this time grabbing some queen sized sheets and pillowcases. 

In your living room, you pull some cushions off of your sofa and pull out the built-in bed, then dress it with the sheets and an old floral quilt. You cover your own pillows in the pillowcases, then fluff them nicely and set them up for Joel, who’s leaving the bathroom now, combing his hair back.

“Stole your comb,” he says, tossing it for you to catch. He stops in the living room and looks at the pull-out bed that you made up, the corners of the sheets tucked in and everything. “The hell’s all this?”

“Exactly what it looks like,” You mock his words from earlier. “Your bed.”

“You’re bein’ ridiculous. I ain’t even sick.”

You ignore Joel and point to the bed. “Get in.”

Joel rolls his eyes but gets in the bed anyway, springs squeaking under his weight. “M’not gettin’ in this bed ‘cause I’m sick or ‘cause you’re makin’ me. Just feel like sittin’.” 

“Sure, Joel,” you sigh. “How much water have you had today?”

“Plenty.”

“How much is plenty?”

“It’s enough,” he snaps impatiently. You leave him just for a second to fill a glass with some water, then bring it to him. Joel pushes the glass away, “I said I’ve had enough.” 

“I’ll decide what’s enough, now here–” you put the glass into his hand, “Drink.” 

Joel drinks the entirety of the glass, glaring at you the entire time. Good god, if looks could fucking kill. The cool water soothes his scratchy, sore throat, but Joel won’t tell you that. “You’re a tyrant, sweetheart,” he tells you, voice raspy and low. What he doesn’t tell you, however, is that if the shoe were on the other foot and you were the sick one right now, he'd be just as overbearing over your health. Probably worse. 

You pout mockingly at Joel as you take his glass. “Stay here. Don’t get up.” 

You get up from the bed to go into the kitchen and begin preparing a soup for Joel to soothe his aching throat. You start by dicing onions, then chopping some carrots. You toss them in a large pot with some butter, letting the vegetables soften. You’ve even got some leftover bread you made yesterday, so you turn on your oven to heat it up. You can hear Joel getting restless, tossing and turning in the less than comfortable bed. Probably should have turned on a movie for him, left him a book or something to occupy his restless mind. “You okay?”

“M’fine. Mind your business.” 

You open Joel’s Tupperware and chop up his chicken into little bits. When you look up, Joel’s out of bed. You scoff. He’s forcing open your window, grunting as it squeaks. “Joel, what did I tell you? Get your ass back in that bed.”

“Relax, would ya? M’tryin’ to get some air in here.” Joel successfully forces the window open, and cool air blows into your tediously warmed home. “House is a fuckin’ oven.”

“Yeah, well, that’s probably your fever talking, dumbass. Put my window down.” 

“I really outta fix this window for ya. Ain’t good to leave it like this. I’ll get my tools an’ I–”

You march across the kitchen and into the living room, knife in hand and using it to point to the bed. “Joel.”

“You scare me,” Joel mumbles, raising his arms in surrender. He closes the sticky window for you, then you march him back to the pullout. Before Joel lays down, he glances in the kitchen at what you’ve been cooking. He heard the sounds of you chopping, but with his nose all congested he can’t smell enough to hazard a guess as to what you’ve been making. Joel narrows his eyes at the stolen Tupperware on your table, the carrots and onion peels to the side, and recognizes it all as his. “Is that my…?” 

“Just lay down, Joel.” 

“Did you take that from my fridge?” 

“I did.”

You’re completely shameless about this, there’s not even a half-assed attempt at lying your way out, and Joel’s beside himself. “You stole from me, you little–” You urge Joel into bed, fluffing the pillows behind him as you ignore his tantrum. “You are unbelievable. I could throttle you, you know that?”

“Go ahead, Joel,” you challenge. A slight breeze could knock this sick old man down to his knees. You tuck Joel into the sheets, then adjust the quilt over him again. And this time before leaving him, you grab an old book of word searches in a basket under an end table. “Here.” You toss it to him along with a dull pencil. That should keep him busy.

Back in the kitchen, you’re still working on Joel’s soup. It’s bubbling away on the stove, and you’ve just finished making egg noodles to make the dish a little heartier. Something to stick to his ribs. It hits you then, that you don’t hear sniffling or coughing. Joel’s gone quiet, suspiciously so. 

And lo and be-fucking-hold, Joel’s up again. This time, with tools. Tools that you don’t have, tools that he must have snuck out and grabbed from his home at some point. “Joel!” 

“There,” Joel says, moving your window up and down seamlessly. “Window’s fixed.” 

“How many times do I have to say it?” 

“How about you try a ‘thank you’, huh?” Joel shoots back.

You shoo him back to bed. You slice a bit of warm bread, then ladle some soup into a bowl and bring it to him with a spoon. “Eat,” you tell him. 

Joel eats a spoonful, and it’s written all over his face how much he enjoys it, the warm broth relieving his sore throat. “So what’d you poison it with, huh?”

“Oh, you’re such a dick.” 

Joel smiles, only teasing. “M’sorry. S’just that you shouldn’t be doin’ all this for me, s’all.” Joel squeezes your knee comfortingly. “Thank you. I mean it, darlin’.” He’ll let you feed him, but no more than that. You’re too sweet for your own good. “S’good soup.”

“I’m glad you like it, you asshole.” You smile too, and push some of Joel’s hair out of his face. He finishes his bowl of soup, even has a second one. You take his bowl away and wash it at the sink.

“Should let me do that,” Joel says, following you into the kitchen. “Ain’t that how it works? One cooks, the other cleans.” Joel bumps you to the side and takes the soapy dish from your hands.

“Maybe another time,” you offer, attempting to take back the bowl. “Don’t want your germs on my dinnerware.” But Joel holds on tight, so you let him wash the dish. Since he wants to die on this hill. So you dry your hands, then feel his forehead once again. You frown, displeased that the bath didn’t work at curbing his fever at all. He’s still burning up. “I’ll be right back.” 

You go to your bathroom and open the cabinet vanity, where you have an old Walgreens thermometer, the paint all smudged off. You wash it with soap and water in the sink, then return to Joel. Amazingly, you find him in the bed doing his word search puzzle, and you didn’t even have to tell him to go lay down this time. 

The bed creaks under you as you sit down next to him. You put his book down, “Open,” you tell him, thermometer in hand.

“Oh, c’mon now,” Joel complains. “Get that thermometer outta my face.”  

You shake your head no, and tug on Joel's chin so that he opens his mouth. You place the thermometer under his tongue and he closes his lips around it, staring daggers at you the entire time thermometer reads his temperature. 

He’s so handsome. Big, sparkling brown eyes underneath brows knit together in irritation. Pouting lips. Age looks good on him, perfectly both softens and enhances his rougher edges.

The thermometer beeps. You read the temperature, 102.3°F. Why Joel’s even upright with a fever like this is a mystery, but that’s men for you. Fucking idiots. “That’s a hell of a fever you’re running, Joel.”

“You’re full’a shit. Gimme that.” Joel sniffles and snatches the thermometer from you to read the number for himself. He shrugs. “S’old. Probably faulty. Can’t trust it.” Joel covers his mouth with his elbow and coughs loudly. 

“You’re old and faulty too, Joel. Look at you.” You offer him a handkerchief to wipe his nose. “You’re falling apart.” 

Joel scowls at you before blowing his nose. You leave him once more, this time to bring him a cool, damp rag. You press it against his forehead, and Joel closes his eyes. “Does that feel nice?”

“No. Quit that.” 

But Joel’s body betrays him. He’s sighing in relief, and his tensed muscles loosen. His breathing, while still shallow, has slowed as much as it can, soft belly rising and falling with steady breaths.

“Are you falling asleep?” 

“No, I’m not. M’not tired,” Joel argues. He tries adjusting the now lukewarm rag, warmed by his body heat.

“You should sleep.”

“Nah.”

 You take the damp rag off of Joel’s forehead and flip it so that the cooler side soothes his hot, feverish skin. “You know, Joel, I think this is why god made women. To take care of stupid, sick men like you.”

“Hm. Could be so. But I think he sent you to me as a punishment of sorts.” 

“Is that so? A punishment?”

“S’right. An’ some day, you’ll fool some poor man into marryin’ you and he’ll have to put up with this same shit the rest of his life. I don’t envy that sorry bastard one bit.” 

“Oh, I know,” you coo, wiping away a droplet of water that rolls down his temple. “You tell me all about it, Joel. Tell me how terrible it is.”

“Oh, I intend to.” Joel continues his tirade, bitching and moaning about how you're doing too much, that none of this is necessary. ‘Quit fussin’ over me’ and so on.

You know that after this, Joel will try to leave you, go home and fiddle with things in his home that aren’t broken - or worse yet, he’ll tinker with the things in yours that he deems in need of fixing. Squeaky door, creaky floor panels. You listen to his slight wheezing, his sniffling, his voice all raspy and broken. He really does need to rest, the poor man. 

If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 

You remove the damp rag from Joel’s head and set it on the coffee table behind you. Joel’s eyes are shut as he takes shallow breaths, and you trace lazy patterns on his stomach, inching your way down, down, until you’re rubbing his warm bulge, feeling him stiffen beneath your touch. “Goddamnit, what the hell are you doin’ t’me, now?” Joel groans. He takes your wrist and squeezes it gently in his grip.

“Nothing, Joel,” you answer innocently.

 “Bullshit, it’s - you’re - oh, fuck.” Joel bucks into your palm. You slide your hand beneath his sweatpants to touch his bare cock, amused at how Joel decided against wearing boxers today. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart. You gotta, you can’t–”

“Shhh,” you hush him. You drag your nails through his patch of coarse hair, playing with those long and wiry hairs. You palm his cock again, half hard and growing harder by the second. Before this goes further, you tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Lift up for me, Joel.”

Joel lifts his hips and you tug his sweats down the rest of the way, then continue touching him. You spit into your hand and pump him from top to bottom, taking special care to gently massage his balls when you reach the base of his cock. “Ohh, darlin’. Oh lord.” 

Joel’s stiffened to full length now. You kiss the tip of his cock, all the way down his shaft before licking your way back up, one long, fat stripe. You swirl your tongue around the head and dip your head, teasing him with it as you bob your head up and down, taking more and more of him down your throat with each pass.

Joel moans, his sick voice breaking a little. He keeps a heavy hand on your bobbing hand and wonders what the hell he did to deserve this from you. He should have stopped fighting his sickness long ago if this is what was in the cards for him. 

Realization dawns on Joel. It all makes sense, why you’re sucking him off at this particular moment. You’re trying to put him to bed, you goddamn deviant. “You’re trouble,” he accuses. “I know exactly what you’re doin’.” 

“Hmm?” You turn your head to Joel, his cock still in your mouth. You bounce it against your inner cheek, and Joel groans at the lewd image of his cockhead bulging in your mouth.

“Yeah,” Joel says. “And let me - oh, fuck-” You drop your head low, taking all of him into your mouth. So deep that your nose is buried in his pubic hair. “Let me tell ya, darlin’, what you’re doin - it ain’t gonna work on me.”

You pull off of his cock with a pop. “It won’t?”

Joel shakes his head. “Mm-mm. You’re wastin’ your time.” 

“Oh. Well, I should stop, then.” 

You begin to pull off of his cock, but Joel forces you back down. “Nah, you don’t have t - you gotta give it your best shot, right?”

You smile with Joel’s cock in your mouth. What a fucking guy. You pull off of him only momentarily, garnering a protesting groan spilling from his lips. You take off your shirt and unbutton your pants. “Lemme help you with that, c’mere, darlin’,” Joel says, pulling your pants and panties down your legs. He unclasps your bra next, then sheds his own clothing. 

You take him right back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his length. This time, though, you play with your pussy. As you move up and down Joel’s shaft, you slip through your folds, dipping down to your wet hole to gather your arousal on your fingertips. You circle your clit a couple of times, then push your fingers in and out of your pussy. 

“You fuckin’ yourself on your fingers, sweetheart?”

“Mm-hm,” you hum, mouth stuffed full of Joel’s cock.

Joel pulls your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own, much thicker and longer ones. “Let me,” he says. “S’my job. Shouldn’t have t’do that to yourself, ‘less you wanna. Or if I say so.” 

Joel spreads your thighs wider. He moves his pointer and middle fingers up and down, exploring your slick, velvety pussy. He sucks those two fingers and then his thumb and rubs tight circles around the sensitive nub, all swollen and wet with your arousal. You moan at the action, the vibration of your voice traveling right down his shaft and to his balls. He bucks himself into your mouth.

Joel inserts his middle and ring fingers into your pussy, pumping in and out slowly before curling them upward, stroking right where you need him to. “Got a nice fuckin’ pussy,” he purrs with his hoarse, gravelly voice. You pulse around his fingers, and Joel admires the way your tight hole hugs him as he moves in and out of you. “She’s makin’ such a mess, drippin’ all over me.” 

You twist your fist up and down Joel’s shaft as you suck him, working him closer and closer to the edge. Joel’s content with this, the prospect of coming down your throat and fucking you with his fingers. But you have a different idea, and when his balls are tightening and his shaft is twitching, his breathing quickening, you pull off of him. 

Joel groans in frustration, but his anger is quickly eased when you straddle his hips. You reach between your legs for his cock and stroke it, dragging the tip through your folds, up and down, up and down, dipping it in and out of yourself to tease him. “You’re fightin’ dirty.” 

 Joel’s exercised enough self control today and doesn’t let you tease him for long. He puts both of his large, weathered, and masculine hands on your waist and pulls you right down on his cock, the initial penetration causing a stretch so intense you see stars for a second. “Oh god, Joel,” you moan, clutching his shoulders. 

“I know, I know,” Joel whispers, rubbing your back. “You good, sweetheart? You need a minute?”

 “Just - just a second.”

 “Take your time. Know it’s a lot, you’ll get used to it.” 

Joel gives you a second, then inches you up and down on his cock to get you adjusted to the sensation of being so full of him. Soon enough, the ache dissipates and is replaced with pleasure, nothing but pure pleasure. You rest against his hot body, rocking your hips to grind against his pubic bone. 

You know that by the way he bucked his hips into your mouth, how he pulled you down on his cock, how even now he moves you, that he’ll tire himself out. Your plan was simply to make him come to knock him out, but this - this works too. Exhaust his body, get yourself off in the process. Killing two birds with one stone. 

Joel fucks you harder now, hands on your ass to move you up and down on his cock. He bends his legs at the knee for more leverage, bouncing you on his lap. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts. He moves you so that your chest is right above his face, and one at a time, sucks your nipples into his mouth, teeth lightly grazing them. 

You hold onto Joel’s broad shoulders to steady yourself, looking down at him as he fucks himself into you. He’s so handsome, cheeks and chest all flushed red, a sheen of sweat glittering at his hairline, his graying curls damp. Joel’s eyebrows are knit together as he fucks you, tracing your curves with his gaze. He pulls you against his chest as he ruts against you, his scruff scratching your skin so deliciously. “Takin’ me so good. Look so pretty on my cock like this.” 

You move at his will. Joel’s underneath you, rocking himself  in and out of your dripping, tight pussy. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips stuttering in a non-rhythm as he pushes himself inside you over and over. He must be getting close now. 

“Up, sweetheart. Lean back f’me.” 

You peel yourself off of Joel’s middle, all slick with his sweat. Joel spits into his hand and presses the calloused pads of his fingertips against your clit. You roll your hips against him, savoring that much-needed friction against your clit.

“Like that, darlin’. Jus’ like that. Fuck yourself on my cock,” Joel says, rubbing your sensitive bud with tight circles. “Gonna watch you come all over me.” 

“Yeah,” you moan, “Wanna come for you.” 

Joel loves you like this. Your face contorted in pleasure, mouth agape, body quivering and twitching on top of him. He steadily massages your wet, swollen clit and wears a crooked smile when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him. And you think you’re pulling one over on him, but look at you, all fucked out and delirious. You’ll probably crash after this, and Joel will go right back to fixing up your house. There’s a door hinge that’s been squeaking…

“Oh my - Joel, I’m - I’m gonna -” 

“Know you are, sweetheart. Let me have it,” he groans, voice all broken and hoarse. “Come all over my cock, darlin’. Let go f’me.” 

That hot, sticky pleasure in your gut begins to intensify rapidly. You go quiet just before it happens, then let out a long, whimpering moan when your orgasm takes over your body. You shudder and jerk as Joel fucks you through your release, and once you’ve ridden it out, Joel pulls you tight against his chest. 

While you come down from your high, Joel frantically fucks you, slamming his hips against yours as he chases his own climax, balls tightening and his belly filling with warmth. “Oh, goddamn. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joel pants as he comes, painting your insides with his hot seed, the warmth of his release and the pulsing of his cock so satisfying. 

Coming down from his orgasm, a wave of exhaustion hits Joel. He finds himself unable to move, unable to open his heavy eyelids. He might’ve been wrong, because napping away the rest of the afternoon doesn’t sound quite so bad, now.

You pull your body off of Joel’s and he lets out a sighing grunt when his softening cock slides out of your body, the mess he created with you spilling all over his lap. You grab that washrag you held against his forehead and clean him up and then yourself, then get up to dispose of it. 

Joel grabs you by the arm, his grip weak. “Don’t you go anywhere, trouble,” he grumbles. 

“But I’ve gotta take care of this, Joel,” you protest. 

“Deal with it later. Just -” Joel yawns and pulls you down and holds you tight against his chest, as tight as he can, anyway. “Jus’ stay with me a minute.” 

Joel’s eyes are still shut, and his breathing becomes slow and rhythmic. It’s laughable how quickly sleep is taking over his sick, exhausted body, having used what little life he had in himself to fuck you stupid. Like that last burst of energy from a dying star. “I thought you weren’t tired,” you tease.

Joel sniffles. “M’not.” 

“Mhm. Sure.” 

“Just checkin’ my eyelids for holes.”

You push some curls out of Joel’s face and hold your palm against his cheek, still hot with his fever. He’s so peaceful looking like this, plump lips pouting as he breathes through his mouth. You bring your face close to his and close the gap by pressing a little kiss against his lips. 

“What’re you kissin’ me for, hm?” 

“I want to,” you reply, kissing him again.

“Gonna get yourself sick,” Joel murmurs groggily, eyes still closed. “Which means in a couple days, I get to do all this right back to you. S'payback, darlin’.”

You chuckle. And in just a few short seconds, Joel’s snoring lightly, dead to the world.

If you enjoyed, please please please reblog with thoughts or comment or hop in my inbox! Your kind words go farther than you know in keeping me motivated to write 💕

[xoxochb]

Don’t you ever just want Luke Castellan to be the reason you can’t walk

Like as a daughter of Ares you’d usually have your head up high, walking with confidence

BUT FUCKING LUKE CASTELLAN THOUGHT NAH LETS TAKE YOUR PRIVILEGES AWAY

Next day your siblings are like 🤨…….

That’s all

That’s all I want man

Cough Luke Castellan smut

— so it goes ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

★ - warnings: smut (both shown and implied), clarisse being annoying pairing: luke castellan x daughter of ares

you asked for this

scratch that— begged for this. you should have seen the outcome. “your actions have consequences” is the unfortunately famous quotation. you should have listened to it, you should’ve went to the dumbass campfire, stayed with your siblings, maybe eat a s’more, enjoy yourself (though you did enjoy the opposing factor just as much, maybe more). though the odious outcome was not pleasant. you couldn’t fucking move. you couldn’t even shift your uncomfortable position because your muscles hurt. you pout, microscopic tears brimming your drooping eyes. your sister walks to your bed where you lay, a knowing look veiling her face. she crosses her arms and smirks down at you

“gonna get up sometime today?”

“yes, clarisse, I’m going to get up. I just want to sleep in for a bit longer” you snap

“sleep… like that?”

you look down at your position— the only one you could lay in without feeling an excruciating pain shooting up your legs. “yep! now go away please”

clarisse rolls her eyes and walks away per your request. you look around your now empty cabin, reminiscing on the events of the night prior, you sigh and let your eyes fall shut as the images re-play in your mind

you can’t help but grip your sheets in your hand. you’d been looking for anything to hold yourself together, to keep yourself, mostly, from digging your nails to far into your skin, because surely that would’ve resulted in nothing but blood. you’re entirely losing your mind, in a hazy euphoric daze you utterly knew you would end up regretting the next morning (which you sure as hell did!). soft whimpers leave your mouth as luke peppers kisses along your inner thighs, teasing. angrily, you usher him to finally “do something and stop being a dumbass”. and he does, happily per your request, slips— one firstly— finger into your most sensitive area. almost instantly you arch into him with a loud moan, struggling to catch whatever breath you had left

and, as if this wasn’t enough for you, he adds a second, curling them impossibly more into you. your mind grows foggy, now softer moans becoming more frequent as his pace increases. yeah, you’re so screwed. your legs shake with pleasure, struggling to hold them into place per a previous demand from luke. he’s aware your increasingly becoming close, with the way you tighten around his fingers. you plead for him to continue as you get closer to your end, yet your voice coming out only in pants and low sighs, your legs in such utter pain already. at last you reach your climax, moaning his name, your hair rests in a disoriented state, red flushed cheeks, sweat beaded skin, you’re completely wrecked

in the morning when you woke luke had been gone, a cold, empty space beside you. though you knew it was for the better that he had left, otherwise your siblings would have seen at that would lead to an embarrassing and unnecessary conversation you wouldn’t have been looking forward to having. you squeeze you eyes shut tight and clench the sheets in your hand. gods, you can’t even function properly, you still feel it within you. luke better hope he doesn’t reach your vicinity today or he would be met with the angriest of ares kids and a very long scolding (of course, as you later in your un-fun position)

[badcaseofcasey]

Steddie Soulmate/Met as Kids AU - Part 7 (The End) Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

a/n: we’ve made it to the end, folks! I have had so much fun posting this and seeing all of your reactions as I went, so thanks for coming along on this ride with me! I’ll be posting the full fic to AO3 soon, so keep an eye out for that. Without further ado, the final installment (for now…)!

The next thing Steve knew, he was blinking back against the light, the room filled with a warm late morning sun. He and Eddie had gravitated towards each other during the night and he woke up with his arm slung low across Eddie’s hips. They were still facing each other so Steve could see Eddie’s peaceful expression as he slept.

Steve let out a huge sigh of relief when he felt Eddie’s breath moving his arm up and down where it rested. According to the clock on the nightstand, Steve had gotten a miraculous six hours of sleep without waking up from a nightmare or tossing and turning over worries about whether or not everyone was safe. Steve knew it was likely because the person he worried about the most had been lying safely next to him.

The other benefit to sharing a bed with Eddie was that he got to watch as the other man slowly woke, eyes scrunching up to keep out as much of the light as possible, to stay in his cocoon of sleep as long as he could. It was adorable, Steve didn’t mind admitting it, and he couldn’t help the smile across his features either.

“You see something you like?” Eddie asked, voice rough with sleep. “Just saying, it’s been a while since I’ve woken up to a pretty boy in my bed looking at me like that.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Take me out to dinner first, Munson.”

Eddie’s eyes slowly opened and Steve noticed, not for the first time, that they were the color of molten chocolate when the light hit them just right.

“Morning,” Steve said. “How do you feel?”

“Like a bunch of interdimensional hell beasts used me as a chew toy,” he responded. “But I feel less like that than I did yesterday, so I’m going to count it as a win.”

“Good,” Steve said.

They were both quiet for a few minutes, soaking in the warmth of the sun streaming in through the windows and of each other’s body in the bed next to them. Eventually, Eddie sighed and held his eyes open.

“I think I promised you a conversation,” Eddie began.

“That you did,” Steve said, steeling himself.

“I just want to know… What does all this mean to you?” Eddie asked. “Because for a long time, I had this idea in my head of what would happen when I found my soulmate again, but then we did see each other and it was… not like that. But recently, things have been different and I know you and I both aren’t the same kids we were at the park, or even the ones we were in high school. So.”

“So,” Steve agreed. “I see why you’d want to talk about that.”

“And I grew up with this image of my soulmate as this dragon slayer, the person who could battle away anything that was bothering me and make it all okay again. And not two weeks ago I watched you do literally that - with demobats instead of dragons, but still.”

Steve laughed slightly. He was suddenly self-conscious about where his arm rested on Eddie’s hip, but when he tried to pull it back, Eddie just scooted closer to keep Steve’s hand where it was. Eddie’s arm was steadfastly around Steve’s shoulders as it had been when they’d fallen asleep.

“And, to put it all out on the table,” Eddie continued, “because I literally almost died and that puts things in perspective like no other, let me tell you, and because I’m sick of not saying it anymore - I’ve kind of been falling steadily head over heels in love with you since I saw you kill a demobat with your teeth, and I don’t see that changing any time soon.”

Steve sucked in a breath, eyes wide. He wasn’t quite sure he had heard Eddie correctly. After everything he’d done to basically reject Eddie over the years, he hadn’t dreamed that Eddie could really love him. And yet, here Eddie was, admitting it out loud and without shame that he didn’t just love Steve, but that he was in love with him. And wasn’t that a miracle, in and of itself.

But Steve must have been processing in silence too long, because it was Eddie’s turn to try and pull away, muttering about how he didn’t expect anything, and how he knew that there were such a thing as platonic soulmates, and it was okay if Steve didn’t feel the same way - and that just wouldn’t do.

Steve used the hand on Eddie’s hip to keep him still and brought his other one up to cup Eddie’s cheek where it rested against the pillow and angle his face so that Steve could press their lips together in a sweet, but sure kiss.

Eddie sucked in a breath as soon as their lips touched and Steve could sense his surprise even before he pulled back to look at him.

“I’ve already got the one platonic soulmate,” Steve said. “And honestly, she’s kind of a handful. Not sure I could handle another.”

Eddie looked at Steve like he was a wondrous thing and huffed out a laugh. “Thank god. Because I was talking a big game about being fine with whatever you were ready for, but I think it honestly would have killed me if you had wanted to keep things friendly.”

“Definitely not,” Steve smiled before leaning in to kiss Eddie again, this time angling his body a bit more on top of Eddie’s so Eddie’s head could rest on the pillow.

They stayed like that for hours, swapping gentle kisses - and some not so gentle - and basking in the glow of being together and on the same page for the first time since they were kids in a park fighting dragons. 

Steve had nearly stopped in his tracks when he pushed Eddie’s shirt up to feel the warm, still-healing skin and saw his own handwriting snaking along Eddie’s rib cage. Eddie had been right - there were a few letters missing and a few others stretched into scar tissue, but they were still perfect to Steve, and it felt like a punch to the gut to see them there for the first time, proof that Steve hadn’t lost Eddie after all.

Eventually, they would leave the safety and stillness of their bed to start their day, running into Wayne in the kitchen who gave them a knowing look when they arrived together from the downstairs bedroom. They would find their way around each other, adjusting when needed to fit the other into their respective lives. Eddie never did move out of Steve’s place, even when he was fully-healed, not until they all moved out - Wayne to his new trailer, furnished by a shady wing of the US government, Eddie and Steve to their first apartment together.

And though the rest of the dragons they would face were of the metaphorical kind rather than the interdimensional hell beast variety, they would always face them together.

taglist: @infinitetrashbag @vampireinthesun @swimmingbirdrunningrock @maya-custodios-dionach @thev01dd @obsessivlyme @a-little-unsteddie @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @spectrum-spectre @red-panderz69 @magpiemuseum @minjintea @finalmoondragon @thatonebadideapanda @estrellami-1 @freyaforestafay @biatcgh @sadcanadianwinter @im-sam-fucking-winchester @bidisastersworld @justanothergirlwithobsessions @anaibis @thing-a-ling @rosered93 @newtstabber @void-o-chaos @thegingerrapunzel @baron-zemo-trash @katireads @child-of-cthulhu @the-s-is-silent @i-must-potato @hellomynameismoo @lovelylilbadone @theotalksalot @lydi-cyan @background-noise-headache @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @slitherynchiken @grapefruitgalaxy @bookbinderbitch @luthienstormblessed @blues-tunes @murdblurdock @grtwdsmwhr @xpaperheartso

[hamatosami]

“Eternal Flame” TMNT FANFICTION

1| discovery

Notes: I'm so happy and proud to present my first finalized and edited chapter of this book! It feels good to finally put out something I'm proud of. Anastasia is a character I've worked years to develop. I'm so excited to share the rest of the story with you guys. The chapters may be longer due to the rewriting. I'm sure you guys won't mind.

Links:

👈🏼 previous chapter 

     Never in my life did I believe that I would be fighting side by side against the one and only Eric Sacks. Although, I found myself helplessly agreeing to it and everything in my soul told me not to. I sloppily swirled my rocks glass around, suddenly not entertained by the idea of intoxication anymore. I let the ice water down my liquor until it was no longer desirable. No matter how many sips I took, it couldn't drown the bitter taste in my mouth. My heart rested in my throat, waiting to explode. Head leaning heavy against my other hand. I bit the inside of my cheek due to feeling on edge.

Eric is most definitely hiding something.

It couldn't be true. The idea of mutant ninja turtles. Although, I couldn't deny the pictures he showed me. I found my glass to be empty again.

"I'll have another." My voice sounded more rugged than usual. Eric's hand pushed mine back down unto the bar top.

"Actually, we'll just get the tab. All on one." I ruggedly gave him the death stare for shutting me off. "You've had enough." He concluded.

I dramatically flinched my hand away from his

"You're right. I have had enough." I began to walk away, heading towards the door and my bike after a pretty defeating night. Eric ran in front of me.

"You shouldn't drive Anna. At least let me take you home."

I laughed at his audacity. Surly he couldn't be joking.

"There's a mugging on 5th. I have to check it out." My ear bud rang in all sorts of information at just the right time, giving me the perfect excuse to leave the vicinity.

"I can't let anything happen to you." Eric took ahold of my arm one more time. At this point I was way past annoyed. Only because I could hear in his voice that he wasn't genuine at all. He took a frustrated sigh. "They call you the Hachiman." He said low into my ear.

"Who does?"

"The Foot. They're not very happy with what you've been doing."

"They need a better name." I pushed. Not taking this seriously.

"I'm just trying to help you." He positioned. Although, I could hear it in his voice that he wasn't being very truthful.

"You don't have to be nice to me Eric. No amount of kindness will ever atone for the years of abandonment and hate you projected onto Zayne, your very own brother. It was your job to look after him, but I ended up picking up every piece and holding him together while you bathed in your undeserving wealth." I walked closer to him now feeling suddenly sober. "I won't allow you to fix your guilt through me. That pain. That ache that just won't go away. You deserve to live with that." I huffed finding my fists tight. "Now get out of my way." I warned once.

Without saying a single word he stepped aside as I walked away to my bike. Leaving into my beloved city.

———————————————————

Ultimately, I woke up relatively early despite

going to bed so late. Mascara smudged from the night before and a pounding headache that greeted me the moment I opened my eyes. My heart sank deeper into my chest, heaving heavy with slow and steady beats.

God what the hell did I agree to?

The idea that I was about to singly handedly take down a robbery by The Foot tonight was strikingly scary. I couldn't understand why, it's not the first time I've tried to stop them. Shockingly, I've never been afraid of The Foot until now.

I guess the difference was that I was entrusting a person I've never trusted in my entire life. And the possibility of live, mutant ninja turtles... yeah that one I'm going to have to see to believe.

I was agnostic on most believes in anything mystical. I didn't believe in most things I couldn't see or touch. Religion? A made up fairytale. Even when I was a child I never once believed in Santa Clause or the Tooth Fairy. If it didn't make sense, I didn't believe in it. If there wasn't any concrete proof, I would deem it a made up story.

So why would I believe in mutant ninja turtles?

I got up and ready for my day, oddly feeling that I wouldn't return. Everything in my gut is telling me to stay home tonight, but I had to remember my purpose.

My fingers brushed against the framed picture on my nightstand of Zayne. I held it close to my chest letting a single tear fall to my ear.

I have to do this for him. His death has to mean something.

Taking a deep sigh as I threw my leather jacket over my shoulders, paying close attention to the silver buttons of the collar; I couldn't shake my nerves.

This was very unusual for me to feel. I very rarely felt fear and at times that I did feel fear, I would enjoy the adrenaline. But this time is different.

"Why do I feel like I won't come home today?" I whispered to myself in the mirror. As I loaded my pistol, I took special notice to the magazine. "Only 15 rounds."

Would that be enough?

I was going into this so blindly, I desperately needed something with larger capacity. And I knew exactly who could help me.

———————————————————

Knock knock knock

The door opened slowly and cautiously.

"Anna?"

"Casey." I said plainly. He scowled me up and down barley able to recognize me. A lot has changed since he last saw me. "I need to talk to you."

"Come in." Still looking astound he guided me into his apartment. "Anna you look so... well I haven't seen you since,"

"The funeral." I finished for him. I'm not shocked that he's surprised to see me. I went MIA after Zayne died. "I know I haven't returned any of your calls."

"I know." He was searching for his words. "I've been worried about you, I've seen you along the police scanners at work. I had to cover for you a few times."

"Thank you." I bit my lip. "I've umm, had a few life changes after he passed. I'm sure you can relate."

"Yeah by joining the police force, not dressing up and playing visualante every night." I laughed at his comment.

"Lighten up Casey." I patted him on the arm. "It's not like I haven't seen you with your hockey mask busting skulls."

"This is different Anna, you're going to get killed. The Foot isn't something you should be playing around with."

A smile grew to my face.

"You know about The Foot." I concluded looking deep into his eyes.

"More than I'd like to." He shook his head. "I started looking into them after Zayne passed away and I... it's a bottomless pit." He turned away from me.

"I believe they killed him." I took a deep sigh. "Which is why I'm here to talk to you." I pulled out the picture of the mutants Eric gave me. "Now tell me, what do you know about mutants." He hesitated to answer me at first, but I was delighted to hear his response.

"I thought it was all a myth."

"Eric Sacks believes these are the things that killed him. I'm... going out tonight to hunt them down." Caseys eyes reverted to mine wider than I've ever seen them.

"No you're not"

"I am... along with Eric."

"What and you trust the guy?! He has been nothing but untrustworthy his whole life. Remember all the times he would get aggressive with you?!"

"I'm well aware." I put my hands up defending myself. "I don't trust him which is why I need him right where I can see him. Look I'm going into this empty handed completely alone."

"Well don't. Because the last thing I need is another funeral to attend!"

"Then help me not die. And if not for me, do it for Zayne. He was your best friend, and this could give us real answers here." His hands ran through his hair daring to say anything.

"What would you need from me?"

"An assault rifle would be a start. And maybe someone to stall the cops around 8pm tonight so I have time to get close enough to the Foot."

"If I do this for you, just promise me you'll make it out alive."

"I'll try." I said with tears forming in my eyes.

He pulled me into a hug as I cried into his chest. Casey was my only friend left. I peaked over his shoulder of the three of us in a picture. I was more than ready to find some real answers. No matter what it took.

———————————————————

I arrived to Sacks Industries with a sudden chill down my back. It had been months since I've been here. And this would be the first time I've ever been here without Zayne.

Eric greeted me at the door.

"Anastasia. Welcome."

"No need to be formal." I raised an eyebrow looking around at his overpriced architecture. People in New York are starving and he's here swimming around in an unhealthy amount of wealth. The money he spends on something as little as his watch, could change a lot of lives. "I'm here strictly for business."

"Right." He cleared his throat. "Right this way. There's someone I want you to meet." We went up his elevator to a room I surprisingly didn't recognize, but apparently you needed some sort of facial recognition to unlock the doors.

"Anastasia Hall." I was greeted by a US soldier. Dressed precisely in uniform. I was immediately thrown off. He greeted me with a warm smile and a firm handshake. "My God! 16 robberies, 35 assaults, and 7 murderers all single handedly stopped because of you. I must say Miss. Hall, it is an honor to meet you." His voice was warm and welcoming.

"Wait, what?" He laughed.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lieutenant Steele, and I will be assisting you on our operations to fight against The Foot Clan."

I turned around to Eric quickly.

"Wait... this was your team you were talking about? The United States Army?!"

"Hey I figured if in told you, you wouldn't agree."

"You're damn right I wouldn't! Visualante work is illegal. I could go to prison for the rest of my life for this."

"Anna." He swirled his glass of scotch around with a sarcastic edge to his voice. "You might want to listen to what he has to say."

I whipped my head back around to the Lieutenant. Awaiting to hear his foreclosure.

Mr. Steele grew a smile only I could sniff out as fake. I knew in my heart I couldn't trust him.

"Please, Miss Hall. Sit." He motioned his hand towards a mahogany chair. I followed keeping my eyes stiff, careful of every movement and every word.

"Tell me precisely why the military is involved with this. And why you need my help."

He chuckled.

"A bit eager aren't we?" He began to pour a glass of wine. "Me and my men behind me are working in secret from the military my dear, so your fear of getting caught won't come true." He cleared his throat. "The Foot had managed to infiltrate into our military, our government and just about everything in between. They disguise themselves as normal civilians, making it harder to identify them. So me and a few of my trusted troops reached out to people who would be willing to help fund us, help us expose the foot for who they really are before things get out of hand."

"Things are already out of hand. Besides you're the military, why would you need someone like me to help you?" I questioned now at the edge of my seat.

"Because surprisingly Anastasia, you've been the one who's ever gotten the closest to exposing the Foot."

I snickered at his comment. My hands slapped against the table now leaning into him.

"I don't believe you for one second. You guys get all the funding in the world, you wouldn't need Sacks money. So what are you really up to?" My voice seethed lower.

His eyebrows raised. "Maybe, you'd believe me had Zayne ever introduced me to you." He reached into his pocket and pulled a picture out of him and Zayne together. "I'm his Uncle."

A lump formed in my throat as I leaned back into my chair. I took a large sigh.

"Okay..." I looked around suddenly feeling dizzy from this information. "If I do this I have some conditions" I said now shaking my leg.

"Anything." He sat back in his chair.

"25 thousand up front." I said to at too casually.

"No way!" Eric interrupted. "Now you're getting greedy."

"From the sounds of it, you guys are the ones that need me. I can continue my own investigation on my own." My eyebrows raised at him.

Eric rolled his eyes. "Any other conditions?"

"I want every tool, any weapon and piece of information you have. I also want the upper hand in every decision. I run the show here. Everything has to go by me."

Eric and the Lieutenant both shared a cohesive nod. And a smile grew to my face.

"Perfect." I pursed my lips now crossing my legs. "Now tell me everything you know about the Mutants."

Mr. Steele pulled out a file of pictures.

"Michelangelo." He stated plainly as he pulled out a picture. "The youngest of the four." I observed closely at the picture trying to remain calm. I still couldn't fathom the reality of what I was seeing. A real live mutant. "Not the strongest one, but the least predictable. Donatello is the one with the brains, his strategy will be his strong suit. Raphael is the largest and strongest, but sometimes this can slow him down."

I couldn't fathom that they all had names. Unique ones too. When I saw their pictures it was difficult to see them as scary, or enemies in any sort of ways. Their faces seemed so personable. My whole body froze when I saw the last picture.

"Who's that?"

"This one is Leonardo, he's the leader of the four Mutants and the most deadly. He has the other threes unique qualities. I would try to stay clear away from him as much as possible."

"What about weaknesses?" I asked as I studied the picture.

"There aren't many." He concluded very quickly. "I should also included that they're relatively bullet proof as well."

"Great. A suicide mission." I scoffed.

"That's why we're going to help you Anastasia. We've developed shock guns that should trap them enough to where we can catch them. Use them as proof that the foot exists and is evil, and then we'll be another step further for find justice for Zayne."

"Okay." I stood up. "When do we start?"

"Tonight at 8."

———————————————————

I met up in the abandoned warehouse where I was assigned to go. Geared up and ready as hell to go. In my pocket I slipped a picture of Zayne, just for good conscience.

"Anastasia." Eric greeted me along with the lieutenant. I kept my face straight as I strutted in. I was focused like a laser.

"Eric... Mr.Steele." I said not so pleasantly.

"Here's the map you requested." I opened the iPad they provided me which scooped all the rubbles of the cargo ships we were certain were getting robbed tonight by the Foot.

"They're either going to come from the sky or the water. They can't be seen at night." I analyzed. "We should steak them out from the roof to get a good view and then I'll follow them in."

"Perfect!" Eric exclaimed. "When you get to a good spot I'll have his troops follow after you." I laughed at his audacity. He slowly caught on. "What?"

"This is my operation Eric, you're coming with me."

"Are you serious?" He stuttered. "I'm not going with you."

"Well since I've been suspicious you of, I figured you wouldn't mind coming with me. I can keep a close eye on you. Besides you have to do what I say or else I'm out." I said with almost a complete smile in my face.

Mr. Steele nudged Eric.

"We promised to do what she said."

"Correct." I appointed. "I'll have the police force stalled at exactly 8:12pm tonight. We'll have about a 20 minute window. We'll also have to shoot the shockers from a distance. They'll kill us if they get too close."

"What's your plan once we get in there?" Eric asked.

"I don't have one." I said simply yet with such utter confidence.

"What do you mean you don't have a plan?" Eric now said with annoyance. Seeing him oh so flustered made me happy on the inside.

"I never have a plan Eric." I giggled. "Look, there's way too many unpredictable properties that could happen tonight. We'll start off with just you and me, we'll try to locate them and follow them and if we need help we'll call for help or retreat, but that's the best we can do given the circumstances. Also the map of the shipping container unit will help me a lot."

"Don't be afraid to send my men in." Mr. Steele affirmed.

"These are the nations most dangerous criminals. I won't use your men unless it's absolutely necessary."

I took another pathetic look at Eric.

"Gear up." I commanded.

"Heres your check for 25k. But no amount of money can subside for the amount of lives you saved and can save tonight." Mr. Steele gave me a firm handshake to which I noticed a pin on his right cuff.

"What a lovely pin. It doesn't look military." I observed. It was red, with a Japanese symbol I couldn't recognize.

"It was my father's." He said way too quickly for my liking. I made a mental note of that tiny detail.

"Hmm. Okay."

We geared up with a bunch of military grade equipment, along with the shockers that would supposedly trap the mutants. It was 7:50pm. Sacks and I climbed to the nearest rooftop so we could stake out the mutants.

We got to the top and I reached for my binoculars as I checked my watch.

"We have a clear view. We just have to wait."

Eric was out of breath already trying to keep up.

"You really don't trust me that much that you had to drag me along with you." He grunted as he sat down next to me.

"Correct. There's always that 1% chance." I said as I observed closely and quietly. "Just stay close and you'll be fine."

And right at that moment I saw a slew of Foot soldiers march their way into the shipping containers on the docks.

"Is that?" He gasped.

"Yup." I finished for him. "It's The Foot clan, but where are the mutants?"

"Shouldn't we be down there?"

"Shhh-" I cut him off as I checked my watch.

8:05

"Anna we need to get down there."

"Shut up." I whispered. My breaths were slow trying not to make a sound.

"What?" He whispered.

"Oh my god." When I finally saw it for my own eyes. I swallowed an uncomfortable lump in my throat. "There they are."

"Let me see... I wanna see for myself." He motioned for my binoculars. As he observed the same reality in which I just observed, a sadistic smile creeped along his face. "They're exquisite."

"They're murderers Eric. The murderers of Zayne." I looked at him in disbelief. Something was seriously off about him. I also couldn't shake my suspicion based on the fact that the mutants rolled in way after the Foot Clan did.

"Okay. We need to get past those two yellow parcels without being seen, we could climb to the top of one and get a clear shot there. We should probably aim for the leader first. Hell be the hardest to take down. Maybe use some tranquilizers as well."

"We should probably split up. In case the mutants do too."

"Good idea." I said as I stood up. "Lieutenant can you hear me?.... We have an eye on the mutants. Wait for my signal to send your troops." Eric and I slid down the fire escape and went our separate ways. I knew I had to save my guns for last because they could give away my position. I had to get passed as many Foot soldiers as possible without being seen or heard.

Lucky for me, I'm pretty small and quiet. I snuck to the top of a single shipping container and balanced myself on the end and peaked around to scope the area. I had completely lost sight of the turtles.

I have to get closer.

Feeling my heart beat into my ears I jumped as quietly as possible to another container, daring to put myself in more visibility. My equipment on my back weighting me down.

And then.

I saw one close with my own fucking eyes.

The tall one I caught scoping out the area as I was. I knew he was the brains out of all of them,  so the other three must have been on the ground.

I duck my head the moment I saw his head turn in my direction. If I give away my position, I'm toast. My left foot was barley balancing onto the shipping container. I could very easily fall.

As I ducked my head and body into one direction, I immediately heard clan members coming up right behind me, and I was in perfect eyes view.

I heard only two, and I had to decide in that moment who I was going to face. Either a giant mutant turtle or two clan members.

"The two people win." I said to myself as I hopped down to the other side of the container, completely exposing myself. The two clan members immediately attacked me. The one ran directly to me with a knife to which I grabbed his wrist and kicked him right in the stomach to knock him down and used one of my tranquilizers to immediately knock him out.

I had to be quiet.

The other one put me in a chokehold from behind to which I quickly snapped my head back to break his nose. I turn around quickly to inject him with tranquilizers in the neck knocking the second one out.

However as I pulled the body away I noticed a small red pin on the collar of the foot soldiers uniform. One that looked identical to the pin Mr. Steele had on the cuff of his sleeve.

"Oh my god."

Could it be? Could it really fucking be right now?!

I ran to the other foot soldier and had the same pin on his collar as well.

"That son of a bitch."

Anger rose to my ears, making me sweat from how livid I was.

I pressed into my ear piece.

"Eric we need to retreat." And I awaited a response and... nothing.

I tried again. "Eric do you hear me, we need to retreat."

My breaths became heavy as I realized my reality. Now I was trapped in the center of a foot clan operation. Outnumbered by ninjas and mutant turtles.

But worst of all, the biggest thing I realized was that it was all a trap. I had been fooled into walking into my own death.

But why would they do this?

That was an answer I didn't have time to think about.

No help is coming. I'm completely and utterly alone in this.

I took a long, shaken breath. Blinking hard as my fists squeezed so hard that I could probably make myself bleed. As I exhaled, I did everything I could to not shed a tear.

I rarely felt fear, but knowing I was set into a suicide trap terrified me even more.

I can't think about it, I just have to get out of here.

As much as I tried to shake everything that I just realized, I couldn't.

"Because surprisingly Anastasia, you've been the one who's ever gotten the closest to exposing the Foot." I replayed in my head.

Eric was apart of the Foot. And I got too close.

"This is my execution." I whispered to myself. Very well played of Eric's part. I knew I couldn't trust that bastard.

I don't understand. Why would he work for the same organization that killed his younger brother?

Or better yet, maybe I've been looking in all the wrong places.

Could it be that Zaynes death was actually a suicide?

No.

I don't want to believe that.

Breathing heavy and feeling my heart beat so hard that I felt it pulsate through my feet into the ground. I quickly shoved every emotion inside of me.

I have to get out of this mess and survive.

I peer my surroundings hearing every commotion of the robbery and remaining glued to my hiding spot. With utter frustration I bang the back of my head against the shipping container. My hand grips onto my dagger a little tighter.

As footsteps tread behind me, I inch holding my breath, daring to look. I saw the same woman that I saw at the bank robbery the other night. One of their "leaders" I suppose. I couldn't make out any feature of who she was because her face was hidden by a hanya mask. Hanyas were female Japanese demons from what I remembered. Very fitting for the job.

As I observed... for a slight moment, my fear subsided.

I knew in both my heart and my gut, that the Foot had something to do with Zaynes death.

I could either run away, or I could get answers.

On the count of three.

One.

I pivoted my feet and bent my legs ready to brace my run.

Two.

I pulled out my gun, already loaded and secured it in between both of my hands. I carefully and strategically picked my first victim.

I can do this.

Breath in, breath out.

Three.

As I made my first step forward someone beat me to it.

One of the mutants, banded in red, began to soar towards The Foot Clan.

"What the hell?" I whispered to myself, softening my grip around my gun.

Why in the living fuck was one of the mutants fighting by against their own people?

I observed the brute in pure awe. His technique was flawless and when I say he was way larger in person, I meant it.

Raphael. The brute.

I recognized him from the pictures I was shown.

The second turtle summersaulted in the air towards the clan. He was so fast that my eyes couldn't keep up. I gave my eyes a quick rub to freshen my vision up.

Bullets flew at the speed of light toward him. And he fought each one off perfectly with his nunchucks without an ounce of fear in his eyes.

"Is that all you got bruh?" He even cracked a joke like it was nothing to him.

And he spoke... English?!

I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't trapped in a dream or a nightmare.

I can assure myself that I'm not dreaming...

The third turtle came to the left, the same turtle I spotted earlier with some sort of staff. He was loaded up with equipment and like the others, his technique in fighting was phenomenal.

In this very exact moment as I sit back and observe these fascinating mutants annihilating the foot ninjas, I also realize a few things.

One, that I was utterly and completely set up. For some reason Sacks wanted me to die tonight and also lied to me about the turtles.

Two, these mutant turtles were not my enemy. At least, they weren't apart of the Foot Clan and that was good enough for me at the moment.

Maybe the hope was that if I fight against the turtles, that they would kill me.

No, that plan is too complexed for even Sacks to come up with. However, my gut was telling me that it was true.

So what do I do now?

If I wanted to, I could retreat. Go back home and get my revenge on Eric Sacks. Or I could risk my life and join the fight.

I was located in the center of the docks. And there was no guarantee that if the turtles saw me that they would spare my life. For all I know they could just be bat shit crazy.

But I must have sat and thought too long... hand wrapped around my neck making me drop my gun. I was drug back and swung head first into a container. The corner of my head bashed into the wall and the thud was so loud that you could hear it a mile away.

My adrenaline kicked in fast.

Forget the pain... focus and get up!

A foot soldier charged at me as my legs wobbled up. I grabbed a led pipe beside me and knocked him in the head with it. Two more surrounded me. I put myself on defense with the pipe, not being strategic in any manner attempting to throw them off. I hit the one on my right in the stomach temporarily knocking him down. I pivoted my feet and wrapped the pipe around the second one's neck. I kicked him in the back and dislocated his spine.

I ran and hid to the nearest hiding spot. My hand flew to my head which was dripping in blood as my adrenaline wore off. I definitely had a concussion. I was seeing double. As I cornered into my hiding spot I peaked and saw all three of the turtles fighting.

"Where's the fourth turtle?" I said to myself.

The tall purple one was landed a perpetuates blow to the knee, which knocked him down. I admired how fast he recovered, but at this point he was surrounded by ninjas. He attempted to fight them, but they pinned the purple banded turtle down.

My heart sank immediately when I saw the fear in his eyes. His other two brothers being too busy to save him.

My dumb gut told me to help him even though I was injured. I could easily save him.

"Don't do it Anna..." I said to myself. I had to stay alive.

But just when I convinced myself not to, as the purple banded turtle was pinned down, another foot ninja came up with an ax, so I grabbed my pipe again.

"I'm so going to regret this." I rolled my eyes and ran to expose myself.

Yeah... instant regret. Now I was in the view of the turtles and the Foot clan. All for what?

I ran as fast as I could and with all the strength that I had I bashed the ninja holding the axe right in the back of the head. I knocked him out in one swipe.

I'm starting to like this stupid pipe.

In one swift motion I swung my pipe around knocking both of the ninjas out that were holding the turtle down and I set him free. I dropped the pipe and immediately reached for my hand sized pistol, shooting the ninja behind the turtle and knocking him down. As the turtle stood up well above me, I shook in my boots a little bit.

We both paused as we stared at each other, both seeing if the other one will make a move.

His free hand raised up in the classic "I'm not going to hurt you" stance.

"Thank you." He said. I choke on my breath again hearing him talk in perfect English. His eyes reverted above my head as he readied his bo staff. "Behind you."

I immediately ducked. As he beat up the ninja behind me. Another ninja came up behind me. I bashed him in the nose with my pipe and kicked his kneecap in dislocating his knee. He fell to the ground and I elbowed him in the temple knocking him out. A second ninja grabbed my arms making me drop my pipe trying to drag me. I managed to stamp my feet in the ground, whipped my head back as hard as I could right on his nose. Making his arms loose. I turned around and punched him in the throat making him fall to the ground.

I was completely worn out.

The orange clad turtle jumped in front of me and finished off the remaining ninjas.

Just when I thought it was over, I heard a familiar voice.

"Finish her!" I heard Eric say, but when I looked around there was no sign of him. I loaded my pistol and was greeted my three more ninjas.

"More of you?!" I annoyingly said.

I went to shoot, but my gun was knocked out of my hand. I went straight to street combat. I blocked every painful punch this guy threw at me. I pushed him back enough to blow him in the jaw, but that's all I was able to get. I was kicked beautifully in my stomach which made me fly back into something hard. I felt my back shatter in pain as I fell forward onto the ground. I landed on my shoulder harshly. The soldier then grabbed me by the neck and pinned me against the container pressing directly into my trachea. I couldn't resist his pure strength as I fought for my breath, right when I thought I was going to pass out, the purple clad turtle knocked him with his bo staff and finished off the rest of the rest of the ninjas.

I fell to the ground gasping for air. I felt my entire body fuzz in pins and needles.

I cant believe the turtle saved me.

He lifted me to my feet. I could tell he was immediately checking me for injuries.

"You're okay. I got you." He sounded so utterly normal.

I caught my breath extremely fast noticing it was finally over. I somehow managed to survive.

"Donatello!" I heard a voice I did not yet recognize. And he walked over towards me. Even though I was just strangled a minute ago, nothing took my breath away as much as seeing the blue clad turtle for the first time. He walked slowly towards me, probably unsure if I was an enemy or not. I heard him slowly take out a sword.

I recognized him. This was the leader, the deadliest of the four.

"She's not an enemy Leo! She saved me." Donnie said. There wasn't much I was afraid of. I knew their intentions were good. I put my hands up to show I meant no harm. Leo came out of the shadows and the moonlight hit his body. I finally was close enough to be face to face with him. Oddly the closer he got to me the safer I felt. My heart slowed down. I looked into his eyes and instantly fell into a trace.

My heart stopped when I saw his eyes. So striking that it made me shake to my core. So blue that I'm pretty sure they glowed. They were like sapphires of light which peered through his opaque facial expressions. Through his eyes alone, I could see every bit of his souls. And this terrified me.

He observed me looking up and down.

His face was perfectly proportionate. His eyes were a striking blue that beautifully clashed with his dark blue bandana. He had a scar leading down his right eye. His skin reflected off the light and it was nothing like I've ever seen. My eyes trailed to his shoulder.

He had a tribal tattoo along his right shoulder and another tattoo that wrapped around his left bicep.

However, as massive and as intimidating as he looked, I wasn't scared.

"We need to get her out of here." My body felt a chill when he spoke. I've never heard a voice so smooth and rich before. I panted hard now realizing the extent of my injuries. I couldn't move. "Miss?"

Is he talking to me?

"Y-you... t-turtle." I stuttered.

"It's okay." He hushed. "I'm not going to hurt you. We're the good guys." I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand. My skin felt flushed and clammy. My breaths were shallow. I felt like I was going into both physical and physiological shock. "Are you hurt?"

"I-I'm sorry. I saw you guys were in trouble." I muttered as my legs shook beneath me.

I didn't answer the right question. My brain was just so fuzzy and confused.

"She's going into shock." Donnie spoke up behind him. Apparently that wasn't important to the leader in blue. He seemed just as confused by me as I was by the turtles.

He's smart I'll give him that. He's probably wondering why I'm here and what my intentions are.

Much like me, he was searching for answers. And in that way I could relate to him.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" He questioned me like a parent questioning their child. As my breaths became more shallow. I was certain I would pass out soon, but in the case that these turtles would choose to go against me, I kept my guard up.

"I was searching for the foot clan." I was completely honest with him. I probably should have lied, but the more I looked in his eyes, the more I felt I could trust him. My voice was shaken and raspy from being choked.

"Why?" He said simply, somehow expecting me to comply.

"Because they poison everything. They infiltrated my city and I'm pretty sure they took someone I love. I've been tracking them down for months and my apologies, but at first I spotted you guys with the Foot Clan and I assumed you were associated, but after seeing you fight against them, I realized I was wrong." I had nothing to gain by being honest with them. I knew all the leader was looking for was honesty to see if he could trust me. Him and I were off the bat very similar beings.

"You risked your life for my brother. Thank you." His eyes scanned my injuries, observing the bruises along my neck.

"She looks familiar." The red banded turtle said. "I think she's that other vigilante I saw running around the city." Leo lifted his hand to silence him as he kept scanning my body.

"We need to get her out of range before the cops show up." He said to his brothers. Then he directed his eyes to me. "You're hurt. Do you know where the nearest hospital is? We can escort you."

"I-" And before I could finish I felt a searing pain in my stomach followed by something warm and wet dripping town my body. I looked down. I was shot by an arrow by a left over foot clan member. I numbly pulled it out slowly. My body instantly became cold and weak. My vision blurred. I fell so helplessly, but Leo caught me before I hit my head.

"Raph get him!" he ordered. His voiced changed. His yell made me shake.

"There's more of them!" Mikey exclaimed. Leo immediately picked up my dead weight and carrying me to a safer spot.

"Finish them off!" Leo yelled as he applied a fuck ton of pressure to my stomach. I yelled from the pain. "I'm sorry." He said to me.

"She's bleeding out! We need to get her out of here!" Said Donnie

"But where? We can't go to a hospital." Leo said as he let Donnie take over in applying pressure. I started to feel tingles and coughed as blood went to my throat. All I could feel were the leaders warm arms cradling me.

"Oh no." The purple banded turtle observed the arrow I was shot with. "It's a poison arrow Leo. The ones with the toxic purple ooze."

"What are her chances Donnie?" Leo's voice rumbled underneath me, but I didn't hear Donatello give him an answer.

"She's going to die Leo. We did everything we could." I heard the red one say.

"Its fine. Just leave me." I muffled. My life wasn't important anyways. I always wanted to die anyways. I was just always too weak to do it myself.

If anything I'd get to be with Zayne. And that's all I would need to be content. After all, I had nobody.

"Are you crazy?" Leo said to me. It wasn't long until the pain settled in. It was excruciating. The pain was so bad that I couldn't even scream. My insides felt like they were being lit on fire and blood filled my throat and mouth. Leo tilted my head so I didn't choke. His attention to detail was incredible.

"I'm not going to make it anyways. Save yourselves before more of them come." I tried to convince them before I wasn't coherent anymore. I probably would make it if I was sent to a hospital, but I really just wanted to die. More than anything in this world. My vision blurred. I could tell they were trying to talk to me, but everything was muffled. Like what you hear when you're underwater.

I could hear they were arguing. I took a few shallow breaths and my vision went black.

"Now I will tell you what I've done for you

50 thousand tears I've cried

Screaming, deceiving, and bleeding for you

And you still won't hear me

Don't want your hand this time, I'll save myself

Maybe I'll wake up for once

Not tormented, daily defeated by you

Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom

I'm dying again

I'm going under

Drowning in you

I'm falling forever

I've got to break through

I'm going under" ~ Evanescence

Thank you so much for reading!

As always if you enjoy my work, like, follow and comment your thoughts! It lets me know to write more!

Much love~ HamatoSami💙

[thegamingcatmom]

Carrot anon👋🏻

Hii mom, i saw your recent post, it was good. I was curious to know how Deadite Ellie would act if I noticed another Deadite eye on the Drama Queen, I can imagine a little, but your explanation will make everything clear.

I hope you are well.👋🏻

HELLAW CARROT ANON

Thank youuuu, so glad you liked it. 🥰

Ohhh the jealousy trope eh? I can see why my recent post has inspired that way of thinking, poor boy. 😅

May he rest in pieces.

EDIT on 18th June:

AIGHT GUYS I MADE IT IT´S FINALLY FINISHED.

We´re covering quite a bit in this one (meaning: the batshittery going on here is on another level entirely) and I couldn´t be prouder to finally present to you the next installment of what-the-actual-fuck aka:

Lions

Enjoy (cause I sure as hell did). ❤️

(@gaym0m ATTENTION NOW ❤️)

AIGHT so, if a mere boy who´s really no match for her - because look at that scrawny thing - no claws or fangs or ANYTHING that could be considered useful or, more importantly, make for a worthy mate - has managed to evoke that fierce of a reaction in Momma then just imagine the utter carnage if another Undead was caught red-handed after Momma returned from a rather successful patrol and she´s been gone a mere 10 minutes for god´s sake but-

When the cat's away, the mice will play.

Maggot Momma didn´t even have to look because - head lifting to take one, two, three whiffs - she could smell it. Fear lies in the air - almost pungent - and while it´s an aroma that´d drive her absolutely wild - get her going - under normal circumstances, right in this moment it does anything but because no one but her gets to evoke this type (or ANY type) of reaction in her Drama Queen, her mate.

She´s off, skipping the elevator and collapsed stairs altogether because not fast enough and claws are digging into the wall and going up up up until she reaches the air shaft, nose first always first although she doesn´t even need it because she can sense you, is pulled towards you like a magnet, it´s instinct-

Meanwhile (somewhere else in this (cursed) building):

Is one quiet, peaceful moment of sanity really too much to ask for?

When you woke up this morning you didn´t think much of the claws digging into your side or the cold nose pressed into your neck or even the long tongue that feels like sandpaper that´s come out to join the rest of It. You´ve become used to that being your alarm clock which you find quite the depressing development but it is what it is and at least you´re still alive and kicking (unlike boy) so yknow, the glas is always half full and yadda yadda.

Although, it has to be said, maybe things wouldn´t take such a toll on your sanity (unlikely) if it wasn´t for that stench that truly does make your eyes water and now that you think about it you can´t help but notice today´s...different. Its odor is even more unpleasant than usual because now it´s got this foul note to it whereas before you´d have described it as rather spicy, almost sharp and seeming to burn itself into your very core.

But that´s not the only thing that irritates you because even the way It´s touching you seems off today. You´ve become used to clawed hands raking and brushing and encasing you almost feverishly, like they´re trying to map out every inch of your body before you vanish (which, sadly, it doesn´t look like that´s about to happen anytime soon).

Now though? Clawed hands are rough and almost sloppy like they don´t quite know how to be hands. Gripping you way too tight and you´re sure that´s gonna leave a nasty bruise, more rubbing than brushing along your leg like It´s trying to pull the skin clean off and that gets you moving because it is not pleasant, at all and what the hell´s even going on-

As soon as It´s noticed there´s movement the grip on you tightens like a boa constrictor squeezing all life out of you and that´s exactly what it feels like actually and now´s the moment you really start to panic because you knew this day would come sooner or later when It finally gets tired of you but you´d hoped for (much) later and It´s started to snarl now which is most unpleasant because it´s so deep you can feel it reverberating through your whole body.

Its maw has opened now and you know this because you can feel Its breath puffing out against your neck, tongue running up and down again and there´s something cold dropping down on you and even that feels different - thicker, more viscous, almost like syrup and you manage to move your head just enough to be able to take a look at what´s going on and-

It doesn´t just feel different.

You see black, literally. It´s everywhere - on you, on the bedsheets, on the floor and - that´s new. And you have a sneaking suspicion which you hope against all hope will turn out to be just that but when you manage to turn your head a bit further to actually take a look at who...what has taken a hold of you-

Have you become deaf?

You´re asking because, all of a sudden, the world around you goes silent save for the ringing in your ears and you realize it´s because you are screaming at the top of your lungs and it´s a wonder the windows in this cursed building haven´t shattered yet but that really is the least of your worries right now because-

This Undead doesn´t appreciate you trying to obliberate Its hearing, at all and so you´re pushed onto your back and into the mattress, clawed hand coming up to grip your throat and squeeze and, immediately, the room falls silent again.

(Aside from the sounds of you being strangled and literally fighting for your life.)

There are tears in your eyes now because of course it ends like this, just your luck, and death by suffocating is just as unpleasant as you´d imagined it would be (not that there´s been many occasions which would´ve encouraged this sort of thinking...until your sorry ass got itself stuck in this cursed building) and just when you thought-

Well, good thing is: it can´t get worse from here, can it?

Its maw opens again and those teeth look very sharp indeed and they´re getting closer, inch by inch, and you get the feeling It´s doing it on purpose - messing with you - because It thrives on seeing the sheer terror that must be written all over your face right now and jaws opening wider and wider and you´re certain one single bite could take off half your face-

Your eyes close tightly because knowing your untimely demise is near is one thing, seeing it is another thing entirely and why would you need to anyway? It doesn´t matter, it´s not like that´ll change anything, change the fact you´re gonna end up as food for that thing any moment now and-

You don´t know what happened because your eyes remain firmly closed and you´re not planning on changing that anytime soon, but-

There´s a ripping sound and you can feel something splattering all over your face and there´s gurgling and then there´s nothing.

And all of that does pique your interest because, just a second ago, you were preparing for certain death so you should be a goner by now but you´re not so you finally find the courage to open your eyes to see what happened instead is-

Well, that doesn´t look normal...or pleasant.

Its jaws are still way too close for comfort, still as wide as they were seconds ago when It was preparing to swallow you whole. But what´s different now is that there´s a hand sticking out between them and there´s this urge to wave at it and this is the type of stuff nightmares are made of but this whole situation is so ridiculous that all you can seem to think of right now is to lift your hand and shake it-

You don´t get the chance however, because that hand closes abruptly, balled into a tight fist, and it´s pulling to the side with an alarming force and right through the head, tearing everything on its way out.

But damn, that thing´s tough. Didn´t even flinch through it all, just slowly turning around, head completely sunken in on one side, to face the force of nature that is It.

("Helheim" - Rok Nardin starts playing in the background)

To say Maggot Momma is livid would be the understatement of the century. She´s shaking, vibrating with a rage that´s rare even for her. Her usually glowing eyes have turned so black one can see their own reflection in them. Teeth seem to have grown in length and become even sharper and there are black veins criss crossing all over her neck, her face and all the way to her eyes.

In other words: It looks every bit the demon you´ve always suspected (and feared) It to be.

And ever since It has crashed the (slaughter) party thank god there´s been an eery silence - heavy breathing from everyone involved is the only thing that can be heard for a while.

So, imagine your almost heart attack when, suddenly, there´s screeching and roaring and it sounds like war is about to start which doesn´t seem too far off because-

Maggot Momma has had enough of this disrespect - looking at what is hers, touching what is hers, harming what is hers (that Deadite´s dead). And now even going so far as to rebel against her? Openly questioning her authority - challenging her - in front of her mate no less? Hoping to impress her Drama Queen and snatch her up for itself?

Ridiculous. Laughable. Pathetic.

And so you can only watch all-out war indeed breaking out and ffs, is one quiet, peaceful, sane moment really too much to ask for?

fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK-

It´s ON now.

Bodies smashing together with a dull thump! and there´s snarling and growling and hissing, clawed hands are digging in to find purchase but also to grip and tear and rip limbs straight out of their sockets-

One arm is sent flying, catapulting in your direction and almost hitting you hadn´t you managed to duck just in time and when you realize which one it belongs to you feel utter relief and you can´t believe you´re actually rooting for It - your It - but considering what the other It was about to do...who can blame you?

Bodies are warped to the point you can´t tell where one begins and the other ends and there´s horrible, horrible sounds coming out of them and this brawl is getting way too close for comfort now and one of your hands is digging into the bedsheets, getting a good grip on them so you can push yourself closer to the head of the bed and away from whatever is going on at the foot of it and your other hand comes up in an attempt to shield your face in case more limbs (or worse) come flying and you truly are pathetic, aren´t you? Like THAT would make a difference when you´re nothing more than a disoriented lamb, stupid enough to wander right into the lion´s den and get caught in the crossfire when two of them decide to battle it out over a piece of meat.

And they´re fast. Everything seems blurred to you because one moment they´re in front of you - way too close - and next thing you know there´s a horrible screeching sound and one of them is smashing against the opposite wall, the force of it leaving a rather big dent and this is the first time since war has started that you´re able to make out more than a moving mass of limbs.

And you wish you hadn´t because the It that got smashed against the wall is your It and It´s missing half Its face - true to the motto tit for tat - which means the other It is no longer being held back from-

It´s rounding on you so fast, recognizing that now or never and It´s off, racing towards you like possessed, feet leaving the ground to take one massive leap in your direction and the sight of it is horrifying because all you see is teeth heading straight for you so you close your eyes again, tightly, because what else can you do but wait for certain death to finally claim you-

So you wait.

And wait.

...And wait some more.

Until you muster up the courage to open your eyes again to see what´s taking so fucking long and you realize-

Is this a joke? Are you a joke to them?

There´s only so many amost heart attacks one can endure and you swear to god you´re done with this shitshow-

Because the other It has made it onto the bed and those claws are way too close to your feet right now but they have a hard time reaching their target because-

It - your It - has a very tight grip on that leg indeed. So tight you can see it starting to cave in but that does nothing to deter the thing from trying to reach you - snapping Its jaws at you like a rabid dog and sending blood and other fluids flying everywhere, the arm It still got left trashing about in an attempt to reach you - any part of you - but-

Maggot Momma has had it.

She´s kneeled on the floor in front of the bed, upper body propped up against it and a clawed hand having a rather crushing grip on that scum indeed. She´s gonna obliterate it - hack and bite and claw and rip until there´s nothing left. How dare it look at what is hers and touch what is hers and harm what is HERS and never before has she felt outrage when looking at her precious Drama Queen because how could she when you´re perfection and you´re her perfect mate, meant for her only her but-

She´s failed.

And someone´s gotta pay.

A sharp tug sends the other It tumbling down onto the floor and there´s no way anyone could´ve missed the pop! that´s accompanied Its fall and a leg goes flying next, landing right next to you and you´re about to puke-

Finally, after what seemed like hours when it´s been a mere 5 minutes since carnage´s started you manage to snap out of whatever the fuck´s just happened and you can´t get off that bed fast enough. Literally tripping over yourself in your haste to get away from that - your body just sort of collapsing to the side, letting yourself fall over and down onto the floor and yknow what-

Hasting under the bed because fuck that shit.

...Which puts you in the direct line of sight of It - Its hollow eyes staring right through you it seems, not an ounce of life in them and, for the very first time since "residing" in this hellhole, this does make you wonder - what the hell happened? These must´ve been normal people with normal lifes at some point. What went down in this cursed building that´s caused all this?

You´re brought back to the present when It lets out a pitiful wail and you realize it´s because your It has started to relieve the other It of Its remaining extremities. And you get the feeling It thoroughly enjoys doing so, if the sounds are anything to go by - teeth are chittering and there´s a low humming that almost sounds like moaning and then there´s a hiss before-

The other arm is sent flying.

And, poor fucker - flopping around like a fish because having only one appendage left is bound to make things rather difficult and you can only imagine what a blow this must be to ones ego because how can you ever come back from that? And It seems to have come to the same realization because-

It´s trashing about with everything It´s got now (which is one leg), literally fighting for Its (undead) life, fight or flight mode fully kicking in now and choosing the latter because wouldn´t you?

It´s kicking and kicking and kicking - over and over - to prevent your It from taking away Its only chance to, somehow, turn this situation around and make it out (un)alive and for a horrifying moment you fear It´s actually managed because-

"Mmph-!"

A foot collides with Its face - the side that´s already demolished at that - causing It to falter and stagger and lose Its grip for a moment-

But a moment is all the other It needs.

Another solid kick! - this time right into the middle of the chest - sends your It flying, crashing against the dresser - wood shattering on impact and the other It has managed to prop Itself up, using the stump that used to be Its other leg for support and gaining enough momentum to actually get up and hop around - rather awkwardly - and make Its way to the door and you gotta admit-

That was quite impressive.

It doesn´t get very far however because your It is on the move again - covered in dust and wood pieces, some of them having impaled It - leaping up and clinging onto Its back like a deranged koala, sending both of them stumbling against the door and your position under the bed doesn´t really make for the best lookout (which you don´t mind in the least) so you can only assume what must be going on right now, which-

There´s a disturbing crunch! that sounds strangely wet at the same time and there´s gurgling like someone´s suffocating on something thick and viscous - like syrup - and then there´s a ripping sound and, suddenly, your It is on Its feet again, a clawed hand holding what seems to be a sogged rag that´s dripping onto the floor and-

What is that?

It´s eerily silent save for the ragged breathing which you´re sure is coming from your It because It looks to be trembling, whatever It´s got in Its hand shaking, making it drip even more and it feels like an eternity has passed when, at last, there´s movement. The other It using Its foot to rotate and turn to face your It - slowly - and you feel like you´re the one suffocating now and you realize it´s because you´ve actually stopped breathing because-

Now what?

You´re ripped out of your near panic attack - literally - when the other It suddenly comes crashing down and Its fall is so unexpected that it takes you a moment to realize it´s actually happened.

And it takes you another moment to realize just what you´re staring at.

There´s black, so much of it, it´s everywhere and oozing out of It and pooling on the floor and - squinting your eyes - is that a tongue?

You have your answer when what you thought was a sogged rag lands right next to It - lifeless eyes staring back at you, making you retch - and it´s a wonder you haven´t puked your guts out yet because it´s not like someone´s head getting ripped in half is an every day occurence and-

It´s not done yet. Casually walking (more stumbling like It's the walking dead, feet dragging behind a bit) to the other side of the room to pick up what looks to be a leg and just as casually walking (stumbling) back - leg dragged lazily behind, leaving smears of black on the worn out carpet. It´s coming to a stop right next to...what remains of It and you see the leg starting to leave the floor, going up up up only to-

The leg´s brought down again and again and again, the force behind it making flesh and bones burst, sending black everywhere and it sounds just as horrible as it looks - a squelching sound that´s reverberating through the whole room and your hands are coming up to cover your ears because you just want this madness to stop-

Please stop it!

It´s not until all that´s left is black goo that It relents, letting the leg - what´s left of it - drop onto the floor with a dull thud!, still breathing quite heavily indeed and then-

("Closing In" - Michel F. April starts playing in the background)

Silence

You wait.

And you wait.

...And wait some more.

Until you´re absolutely certain you´re no longer in danger of witnessing utter carnage. Only then do you slowly lower your hands, letting them rest on the floor - digging into the worn out carpet to brace yourself in case you gotta run for your life.

After what felt like hours It´s on the move again. Bare feet slowly making their way to the side of the bed that´s closest to the door because of course - your eyes following every step, head turning to never break gaze - and you´re stuck, nearly starting to panic again because you don´t know what to do, there´s nowhere to go because even if you managed to crawl out from under the bed before It got a hold of you there´s just no way you´d make it to that door. You know this because you literally just witnessed another It getting ripped apart and if a mighty lion didn´t stand a chance then what could you - a disoriented lamb - possibly achieve here?

It doesn´t matter anymore because it´s too late, your habit of getting lost in thought has sealed your fate and now there´s no more time to do fuck all because-

It´s reached the side of the bed and is starting to bend down, hands coming to join the feet on the floor - claws, then fingers, then palms - and lowering down down down and face starting to come into view now - chin, then mouth, then nose - until bright, glowing eyes are staring back at you and you can´t believe you´re actually starting to feel something that could resemble relief because finally you no longer see black.

Its demon-like appearance gone, save for the black veins still criss crossing along Its face - their visibility reduced to a slight black hue though - and teeth are back to their usual length and oh, oh my-

Only now do you remember that It´s missing half Its face - teeth on the right side fully visible, skin and flesh torn off almost all the way up to Its ear - and you can see remains of the other It stuck between those teeth - must´ve bitten that head clean off - and it is not a pleasant sight but you can´t help but think that-

Didn´t it look worse before?

You´re brought back to the present moment rather quickly because-

It has started crawling towards you and fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK-

Never in your life have you crawled backwards this fast (you´ve literally never crawled backwards in your life ever because who does that?), fingers digging into the carpet, nearly scraping your knees in your haste to get away from that and you´ve actually managed to fully emerge from under the bed and you keep crawling backwards because what else can you do there´s no time and fuck! your feet are touching the wall now, hands pushing against the ground to straighten up only to stumble and plonk! onto your butt, back against the wall now and-

It´s still crawling towards you and it looks like something straight out of a horror movie and you really start to panic now, one leg shooting up to use your foot as a (pathetic) shield which probably isn´t the best idea considering what is crawling towards you right now because It could easily take off that foot with one bite and-

Really?

Must you be difficult right in this moment? Usually, Maggot Momma would be more than happy to have you squirming and struggling against her, trying to defy her - her perfect, rebellious Drama Queen - but Maggot Momma has had more than enough of that today. That scum is finally rotting in hell for what it did - looking at and touching and harming what is HERS and if that creature has wounded you-

Your ankle is grabbed and It´s going absolutely crazy - sniffing like a hound that´s picked up on a scent, starting with the foot It has a very tight grip on and going up up up your leg before descending again to do the same with your other leg, coming to a stop right where the other It has manhandled you before, letting out a low growl, tongue slipping out and running up up up almost all the way to where your leg meets your pelvis - making you squirm - and the only thing stopping It from going even further being your rather short shorts-

And continuing to climb up your body - Its other hand digging into the floor to keep Itself grounded - and nose coming to rest there now which seems to slow things down for a moment-

...and another moment-

-before It´s on the move again, sniffing up your stomach and - oh, oh my - in between your breasts, nose stopping right where you can feel your heart beating out of your chest and lingering there for quite a while before the hand that´s been gripping your ankle moves up to take a hold of your wrist, pulling your arm towards It and you let It because you quite like breathing and Its nose is continuing its journey, sniffing your hand and up up up your arm, across your collarbones - pushing your head up and out of the way - and down your other arm until It reaches your hand, pressing the side of Its face - the torn side - against it and you swear It´s started to purr-

It seems calmer now, more relaxed, and you can´t seem to take your eyes off It - almost mesmerized - and you blame the utter carnage that went down minutes ago because that´s surely fried most (if not all) of your nerves along with some of your braincells it seems but it´s like being witness to a horrible accident where one doesn´t want to look but, at the same time, just can´t bring themselves not to look and you´ve just never seen It so...tame before and you´re actually touching It in what might seem an affectionate way to anyone witnessing except your hand is literally touching sinew and bones and there´s blood and saliva and other fluids (you don´t wanna know) all over your hand now and that does make your stomach churn a bit, reminding you of the situation at hand which is-

Save save save you´re save and whole and hers and whole she´s made sure of that - that scum is with the maggots now - and only seconds later and she doesn´t know what she´d have done because you were meant for her now and forever and if anyone, anything tries to prevent what was foretold by the dark gods - that you belong to her and with her until the end of time and-

Torn face finally leaving your hand but remaining pressed against you, sinew and bones sliding up up up your arm and leaving smears of black and other fluids behind and you think It looks absolutely deranged - like It´s trying to get high on you - and It has reached your neck now and seems to deflate, eyes nearly falling shut, pressing you against the wall and that purring is back for all of two seconds before-

Eyebrows furrowing, hands coming up to rest on either side of your head, claws digging into the wall, nose going crazy once more, running up and down your neck before wandering along your throat to the other side and you almost, almost muster up the courage to ask if It´s-

Looking for something?

But then, suddenly, It freezes. Nose coming to a stop again right where It has left Its slobber before and even you can smell that foul stench now that must be all over you from It licking you, tasting you and-

Defiling you, soiling you, marking what is hers and-

Are these...?

Maggot Momma´s been so busy fretting over you - smelling you all over, desperate, to be absolutely certain no harm has come to you - that she completely neglected getting a good look at you.

But once she does-

She wishes she hadn´t.

Maggot Momma is shaking, vibrating with rage and anguish because she´s reminded yet again that she´s failed - by a hair's breadth - and just a few seconds sooner and she wouldn´t be looking at the proof of her failure which is-

A clawed hand wrenches out of the wall - taking bits and pieces with it - and moves to hover over your neck and for the first time since you´ve found your way into her territory - your home - Momma doesn´t dare touch you because It has left Its trace clear as day because she´s failed and she´s trembling with rage, afraid she´s gonna snap your neck if she so much as lays a finger on you because-

There´s blue that´s turning more and more black as time goes on and it´s all over your neck and it´s agony because Maggot Momma can make out every single one of that scum´s greedy fingers, can see exactly where they´ve been placed to squeeze and choke and just the thought of one of those claws pricking delicate skin makes her want to scalp herself, gouge her eyes out because a small nick would be enough to-

Has It died on you? Because It sure looks the part - frozen, completely rigid, breathing has ceased to exist - and there´s been total silence for quite a while now and you´re completely on edge, expecting something to happen any moment now and maybe you should start trusting your gut instinct more because-

BAM!

Clawed hand shooting up from where it´s been waiting, hovering over your throat - to do god knows what - to embed itself into the wall, the force of it sending cracks running in every direction, dust and wall fragments raining down on you and this must´ve been your third almost heart attack in 20 minutes you swear to god-

There´s ragged breathing and It´s trembling and twitching, seems to mumble and mutter something - sounding completely deranged - and Its teeth are chittering again - that clicking sound combined with the crazed chanting driving you mad - before Its head finally peels itself off your neck to rise rise rise, legs pulling up from where they´ve been entwined with yours to plant Its feet firmly onto the ground on either side of you, legs bending, knees nearly touching the wall - crouching over you now and you´re reminded yet again just how utterly long and tall It is - and Its forehead is resting against yours now, eyes closed tightly and that unhinged murmuring is still going, still twitching now and then and if someone was to walk in on you right now you wouldn´t blame them if they made a swift U-turn and legged it because you can only imagine what all of this must look like to anyone witnessing-

Black and red splattered across every surface - the floor, the furniture, the walls - and there´s limbs scattered everywhere like someone´s decided that Yes - a heap of somewhat human remains would really make this room shine and then there´s It, curving and bending around you like It´s trying to merge with you, become a part of you and that crazed chanting has toned down to a low rumbling now, its vibrations so violent you can feel them down to your very core and, suddenly, your vision is filled with bright, almost glowing yellow and a dull blue that almost looks like gray and there´s red everywhere - a ring of fire in front of an inferno - because-

Piercing eyes have opened to lock onto yours so intently it feels like they´re looking straight into your soul, like It´s trying to bewitch you, cast a spell on you because you can´t move, can´t breathe and your insides are constricting and you are powerless to do anything about it because there´s nowhere else to go, nowhere else to look because It has you cornered, demanding your full attention and-

Beautiful, mesmerizing, otherwordly you´re so perfect and so delicate and so hers but today all of that - all of you - was nearly lost because she´s let you out of her sight a mere 10 minutes. Foolish, utterly ridiculous of her to believe that bunch of misfits capable of carrying out simple orders-

～Watch, guard, don´t touch.～

But not again, never again she´s gonna be with you every second, every step, never gonna take her eyes off you ever again because now you´re whole but you were this close to being broken all because that lower creature couldn´t keep its greedy hands off you - touching and licking and befouling you - and your smell, heavens! used to be so wonderful, so mouthwatering, so her but now it´s-

...Gone, not a trace of it left because you reek of that parasite and it makes her want to puke her rotted guts out and she´s actually considering because anything, everything to wash away that stench that´s all over you, encasing you and it drives her mad, must do something, anything to-

("Lion" - Saint Mesa starts playing in the background)

Clawed hands wandering almost feverishly across your whole body, like they´re searching for something and you can´t help but be reminded of other hands almost instantly. Those hands were harsh and rough and not quite behaving like hands, feeling like they´re possessed - someone else pulling the strings - whereas these hands-

These hands are fast yet mindful - gripping with a strength that can be unpleasant at times but it feels like they´re aware of that, doing it on purpose because It seems to enjoy the sounds they evoke, which means-

These hands know how to be hands.

And one of these hands has already found that familiar place against the wall, claws digging in, preparing for-

Well, you know where this is going.

Another clawed hand closing abruptly around the soft, round flesh it´s found while roaming up and down your legs, giving it a good squeeze and it catches you so off guard that you almost, almost swat at it because - Excuse you? - and that same hand lifting you UP UP UP - jesus! - and you actually have to brace yourself against the wall, against It - just anywhere - because Its movements are so sudden, almost jerky like It doesn´t know where to start, doesn´t have any control over what It´s doing right now but now It´s got you up and at eye level - forehead pressing against yours - and these are some crazy eyes alright, looking utterly manic and Its hips are already going, wasting no time at all and not at all caring that It´s missing the target, actually rutting against the wall now and-

That crazed murmuring is back as well but this time you can actually make out some of it and it sounds more like a mantra, like chanting as one word seems to be repeated over and over and over and-

～Mine mine m-mine -ine mine m- mmh- ine mah-～

Sounding out so distorted, voice seemingly unable to stick with one pitch - going up down up down from almost chittering to demonic in seconds - and sometimes swallowing words completely - all that´s coming out then a sharp hiss or low grunt - and it feels like breathing becomes more and more difficult because It´s leaning rather heavily on you now, eyes becoming unfocused, head seemingly too heavy to hold up because it just slides off to the side and forward, pressing Its face flush against the side of your neck and fuck, teeth teeth teeth! you can feel something wet pooling there until it´s slowly running down over your collarbone and into your shirt - staining it - and you can tell this is gonna be a fast one because It seems dangerously close to being there already and-

HersHersHersHersHers you´re hers gonna make sure of it gonna make you reek of her only her now and forever and you´re never gonna be without her again, it was meant to be, was foretold she´s never gonna let you out of her sight ever again, keeping you close and by her side where you belong and if anyone anything tries to steal you from her again - challenge her - she´s gonna make it abundantly clear who´s in charge, who´s entitled to lay claim to the human that stumbled into her territory all these months ago, seemingly pulled to her like a moth to a flame, waiting for her, enticing her, yearning for her to claim you as her mate and-

Whole body tensing - becoming stiff as a board - and claws sinking into the wall like it´s butter as Its other hand clings to you for dear life - that buttock´s gonna bruise - and head thrown back to-

...That was a rather fast one and you reckon the only thing keeping the both of you from collapsing right now is the fact Its hand is still firmly lodged in the wall.

Well, that and the fact It´s nearly suffocating you because Its whole weight just collapsed forward and - Oof! - right into you, the side of Its face - the side that´s not torn thank god - coming to rest on top of your head like It´s completely overexerted Itself. So now you just kind of hang in there - face squished against Its neck - as It seems to struggle quite a bit to get Itself back under control - hips still twitching now and then, incoherent murmuring back in full force and today has been a very long day and just one moment of peace, of sanity, is that really too much to ask for?

It feels like an eternity has passed and just as you actually consider doing...something to move things along like...well, maybe wriggle about or lift a hand to very carefully swat at It or maybe you´re just gonna throw caution to the wind and bite that neck in hopes to catch It off guard, to startle It so thoroughly It´s just gonna drop you like a sack of potatoes and-

Finally, there´s movement. Head lifting from the pillow that is your head and It seems to become increasingly more aware of Its surroundings - eyes searching, zoning in on yours immediately, now as wild and piercing as ever, like a ring of fire in front of an inferno, staring into your very soul and-

...What? Do you have something on your face or-?

It´s looking at you rather expectantly - calculating yet hopeful at the same time - like It´s waiting for...something. It´s a look you haven´t seen on Its face before - almost like It´s actually, fully there and conscious and not seconds away from tearing into you and-

It´s still looking and has It even blinked at all yet? and it´s getting increasingly more uncomfortable because what does It want you´ll do anything to make It stop doing that and Its eyes can´t seem to decide which part of your face they want to rest on all of a sudden - flitting up and down, up and down, up down, up down your face and you´re brought back to the moment those eyes clapped onto you for the very first time - sizing you up, examining you, looking at you like It´s never seen a human being before, like you´re the oddity - and you really gotta stop spacing out because It seems much closer than before and keeps getting closer, eyes having found a place to rest on after all which seems to be-

Hold on, wha-

No fucking way-!

Maggot Momma can´t help herself, absolutely bewitched, mesmerized, drawn to you because - look at you, good heavens! - so perfect and whole and hers and whole she´s made sure of that and now that she´s reclaimed you, reconquered you as any worthy mate should she feels absolutely intoxicated, overcome with a need to do...something, anything to further strengthen and solidify the bond you two share and-

She knows it - she knows she does - it´s on the tip of her tongue, can almost taste what needs to be done, what is usually done in moments like this and she never thought that human facade worthy of her time - serving as bait more than anything else - so useless, so pathetic like the soul previously inhabitating this human shell and she hopes Ellie rots in hell where she belongs-

But right in this moment she can recognize the value of it, can see the use of a mind wired quite differently - plain, simple, ordinary - and it pains her to admit because she´s so much more than that, far superior to that, but what she wouldn´t give for a simple, ordinary mind right now because she´d know what to do in a heartbeat, so sure of it, even her eyes seem to know because it´s instinct-

Her body urges her to do something, anything - eyes locked onto the part of you that sings for her so sweetly, making the most wonderful sounds just for her and she´s close so close can almost taste it, taste you and it´s on the tip of her tongue, she´s this close to remembering she can feel it - something to do with saliva, of that she is certain and-

Oh...Oh!-

Yes, of course-!

You don´t know what you were expecting (you know exactly what you were expecting) but it surely wasn´t for that maw to open (you fear you´ll never get used to that aroma) and it surely wasn´t for a long, long tongue to come lolling out and what you sure as hell were not expecting was for that long, long tongue to glue itself to you - starting at the underside of your chin and - very slowly, almost in slow motion - going up up up over your chin, your lips and - thank god you remembered to close your mouth that´s been standing open from the sheer insanity of it all - reaching your nose and trying to wander into it only to come to the seemingly devastating realization - if the sounds are anything to go by - that not all holes are meant for tongues and, having to accept defeat (for now), the slippery muscle continues its way up and over your nose and-

...Going back a bit because Momma´s sure so sure it´s something to do with that part - prodding and poking at it like she´s trying to find the hidden lever that´ll open the treasury - only to have to accept defeat again because-

Nope, no way, hell to the no-

...Wet muscle reluctantly continuing its journey - over your nose again, between your eyebrows and all the way up to your hairline where It seems to pause for a moment, taking a deep breath and-

Almost sneezing in disgust because you still reek of that creature, that filthy rat and this will not do Maggot Momma won´t tolerate it because you´re hers alone she´s gonna make sure of it, gonna let everyone everything in and out of this cursed building know-

More, you need more of her-

Its tongue is going crazy now - running all over your face like you´re a popsicle and It´s burning alive - and It´s back to making the most unhinged sounds - clicking and hissing and rumbling that seems to reverberate through your whole body - and no matter how hard you try there´s no escaping that ridiculously long tongue because it simply follows wherever you go and-

Today has been a long day with way too many different bodily fluids when all you wanted was a moment of peace, of sanity and you don´t know how you´re gonna manage, don´t know how to distract It long enough to actually make it but you´re determined and even if you die trying you´re gonna risk it all because one thing´s for certain-

You need a bath.

(And you swear that face looked worse before.)

[whisker-biscuit]

SlyFox Day 2: Snow

Sly huffed a silent sigh of relief as he placed the last of the explosive charges at the base of the last vampire crypt. The Panda King had gone off ahead at his insistence that he could finish this by himself – a fact they were both happy about – and watching the older man clear away the last of the active undead mantises with fireworks and flame before he took his leave was something the raccoon would never be able to get used to.

And it had nothing to do with vampires.

He set the timer for the detonation and retreated to a safe distance on higher ground to watch the upcoming explosion. The crypt was right at the bottom of a hill of snow that looked a breeze away from toppling into a miniature avalanche, and Sly was admittedly a little excited to see it. He was taking every chance at levity he could cling to while at this stupid palace, with its stupid owner, and the stupid decision Bentley had made to trust the goddamn Panda King.

So caught up he was in his momentary bitterness that he nearly missed the bob a familiar flashlight as Inspector Fox rounded the corner. Sly had only a few seconds to be surprised at her presence and wonder what lead had brought her up this far before she shined her light on the literal time-bomb of a crypt and that surprise turned to alarm.

There was no time to think. There was barely time to act. The thief launched himself off of his perch straight for her, hoping against hope to knock them both out of the blast radius. She was just starting to turn around at the sound of him when he slammed into her, sending them both tumbling, but before either could do anything else there was a BOOM that shook the ground and deafened his senses –

And then the world went white.

Sly woke up with a groan that quickly turned into chattering teeth. His entire body felt stiff and frozen from head to toe, and his head was still ringing from the aftermath of the explosion. When he tried to sit up, his vision swam so badly that it nearly made him pass out again.

“Oh. You’re awake.”

The sound of Carmelita’s voice broke through the fog in his senses and brought him right back to the present. He locked his jaw to stop his loud shivering and looked over towards the direction she’d spoken from. Sure enough, she was sitting just out of reach, holding her arm close to her chest and glaring daggers at him.

His heart jumped to his throat at the sight. “Are you hurt?”

“I am, no thanks to you,” she snapped, making him wince. “What the hell were you doing up here?!”

“Blowing up vampires.” The truth fell off his tongue easily, and not just because it often did around her. It was better to be honest when it came to pinning terrible crimes on terrible criminals.

“Uh huh.” Inspector Fox looked less skeptical of the idea of vampires and more skeptical of the idea of him playing vampire hunter. “And does ‘blowing up vampires’ involve this?”

She glanced around meaningfully, and Sly finally registered the rest of their environment. They were trapped in a narrow air pocket surrounded on all sides by snow, so cramped that there wasn’t enough room to stand or even get more than a few feet away from each other. The raccoon sucked in a worried breath through his teeth.

“Don’t try to break through it,” she warned him before he could even think of it. “I already tried, and the whole thing nearly came down on top of us. There’s no telling how much snow is above us right now, and I don’t want to risk suffocation if it falls.”

The thief swallowed. His whole body was shivering, now. “How long was I out?”

“Only a few minutes. I think you got hit in the head with a piece of whatever you were blowing up.” When he gave a meaningful, scrutinous look towards her cradled hand, she shook her head. “Happened when we were rolling after you tackled me. Feels more like a sprain than a break.”

Sly couldn’t help the way he visibly relaxed at that. Carmelita watched him like a hawk.

“Have you called your mercenary friends to tell them what happened?”

“No. My radio got lost somewhere in the avalanche.” This time, instead of glaring at him with obvious blame, she simply closed her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “Just my luck, huh? You’re finally trapped right in front of me with nowhere to go, and I can’t even call for backup.”

“Maybe not, but I can.”

Her eyes snapped open when he pulled out his binocucom, but she didn’t say a word as he started calling Bentley. The line rung for less than a heartbeat before the turtle answered.

“Sly! Where are you? Did you take down the last crypt?”

“Sure did, Bentley, but there were some, uh…complications.”

He pulled up the visual aid and did a slow scan across the tiny space, including Inspector Fox’s scowling face, then flipped it back around towards him. His best friend let out a string of words that were very complicated but probably very vulgar. Sly could tell he was in for a hell of a lecture about this later.

“Give us ten minutes max and we’ll get you out of there. Both of you,” he amended when Sly raised an eyebrow. “Just don’t do anything stupid until then, and leave your binocucom on so we can find you.”

“Roger that.”

The raccoon put the device back in his leg pouch and wrapped his arms around his knees, suddenly all too aware of the bitter cold making him shiver. Ten minutes was a long time to wait in the snow when you were only wearing a sweater-shirt and boots more built for stealth than snow.

As if sensing his thoughts, Carmelita let out an irritated huff and patted the ground beside her. Sly didn’t move an inch.

“You, uh…you sure?” He asked.

“I’m only offering because you’ll freeze to death before your gang shows up,” she said pointedly, shifting her weight to very obviously hide the way she was also shaking. “You can’t be brought to justice if you’re dead.”

A smile finally crossed the thief’s lips. “Of course, not. We wouldn’t want me to escape the consequences of my actions with such a pathetic way to go.”

“Exactly.” The word was hissed with as much conviction as possible, but he could still see the faint flicker of her own smile before it was quickly buried under indifference. “Now get over here before I change my mind.”

He did so.

“If you ever tell anyone about this, Ringtail…” she threatened as they huddled together, arms wrapped around each other.

Sly smothered his grin, partly because he knew she wasn’t bluffing and partly because her tail was curling around his seemingly without her conscious knowledge.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Inspector.”

And he meant every word.

[serafiel-jacobs]

It is fun to play pretend (Fanfic)

New Chapter of my Angst series 💜

As soon as Paracelsus and Simon arrived it was just when Carlo had fallen asleep for his afternoon nap. Geppetto isn’t going to wake him up so they are going to have to wait until he does, because no one wants to deal with a cranky and upset Carlo.

“How long are his naps?” Simon feels strange asking that, this is so stupid.

“Usual he sleeps for an hour, sometimes more, so I’ll guess we are going to have to wait for him to wake up”

“Why wait? We could start now with your examination Geppetto” Paracelsus has a smile on his face, he knows Geppetto can’t protest and since Carlo isn’t awake, he can have even more fun than usual.

Simon also has a smile on his face because he finally gets to see Geppetto get his special checkup instead of having to play with Carlo. No wonder Paracelsus likes playing doctor, it’s fun to see others be uncomfortable and in pain while they depend on you.

“Oh my, what’s this Geppetto?” Paracelsus has a syringe containing Geppetto’s blood, blood that now has a blue hue, making it almost look purple.

“How the hell should I know?” Geppetto knows it has something to do with Carlo and how he gave him his heart but, he has no idea why it would look that way, he is an engineer, not a doctor or alchemist.

“Hiding secrets from me?” Paracelsus knows that he is hiding something, “You don’t look well at all Geppetto, so pale, so tired”

“Being is parent is hard”

“I’m sure that there is more than just that” Nothing escapes Paracelsus, he will know sooner rather than later.

“Well I’m sure you’ll find out once you are done with Carlo, but you aren’t going to like what you see”

“You can’t play games with me Geppetto, it won’t work”

Geppetto let out a small laugh, well, he did try to warm him.

The rest of the examination went well, the only problem is that only 30 minutes had passed, Paracelsus usually does his special work slower, however with this new development there are things he needs to confirm first.

“So, are we just going to sit here in silence?” Paracelsus is starting to feel bored.

“Yes,” Simon doesn’t want to talk with either of them.

“Aaaww why not talk my love?~” Paracelsus teased him with his sweet voice.

“Do you ever take anything seriously? Or is life just a sick game for you?” Simon is done with Paracelsus’s games.

“Oh God, please don’t make me the third wheel” Geppetto groans in frustration.

Paracelsus laughs and Simon gets irritated.

“Why not join us then?” Paracelsus is having a lot of fun today.

“Shut up Paracelsus, just shut up” Simon doesn’t want to even exist at this moment.

Geppetto just ignores the comment, so Simon quickly changes the subject.

“Please let him be at peace from the moments he has away from his brat”

“I love every second I spend with Carlo”

“Sure Geppetto, whatever helps you sleep at night” Simon sees that Geppetto rolls his eyes at him, Paracelsus has a smile on his face, enjoying having to listen.

“You are the living proof of why it’s better to not have children”

“You say that because you never had any”

“What are you? A single mom now? Who’s biggest life achievement is to show off their child?”

“I’m literally a single dad you moron!” What kind of a statement is that? For the first time, Geppetto wants Carlo to wake up early from his nap so that they can leave him and his son alone.

“Hey everyone look” Simon makes a mocking tone, “My little boy only killed 5 people instead of 10, isn’t he such a good boy?”

Geppetto stays quiet and Simon knows that the old man can’t argue back because he in fact praises Carlo for not killing people.

“Okay, we all going to shut up until Carlo wakes up,” Geppetto says.

Hopefully, his nap won’t take that long.

——

Carlo woke up an hour and a half later, to Simon and Paracelsus it felt like an eternity, but Geppetto didn’t mind at all it all ended up amazingly because Carlo was in a great mood, he was behaving himself so well and he was being gentle instead of using his force.

Carlo’s blood is like Geppetto’s but his blue hue is even brighter, not only that but something else is visible, very small particles of something, Paracelsus must know more, he can’t wait to get back and analyze it.

“This is the last one sweetie, it’s going to hurt a little” Paracelsus gives out the warning.

Carlo lets out a small whimper, then he starts crying, Geppetto holds him and tells him how brave and strong he is.

Simon swears that every time he comes here Carlo behaves more and more childish, he doesn’t even know how that’s possible. It’s uncanny to see someone who is technically an adult like that, but more than anything it’s sad, truthfully at his point he does like Carlo, how could he not after the time he spends with him? He just doesn’t like Geppetto.

Paracelsus is quiet and just staring, Simon is starting to realize something is a little off about him.

“Daddy, can I play with Uncle Simon and Uncle Paracelsus?” Carlo sounds really excited.

“I’m sorry son but they were just about to leave”

“No! I want to play with them!” Carlo always plays with one of them when they come, he should play with both of them because he is strong and brave.

Geppetto stares at them, he doesn’t want them home but he doesn’t want Carlo to be upset.

“We have to leave Carlo” Simon is the one who has to speak up because Paracelsus is still quiet.

“No, don’t go!”

Before anyone else could say another word, Carlo lifted his left arm, pointed a finger at each of his uncles, and pulled them back. As he did, a small amount of their Ergo left their bodies.

Simon and Paracelsus felt paralyzed, they felt exhausted, they felt their blood flow become slower and slower, they could only stare in horror as a part of their soul was ripped from their bodies.

“Carlo…” Geppetto stares at them, clearly hesitating to tell his son to stop, “Give them their Ergo back”

Carlo doesn’t say anything, he just holds the Ergo in his hand.

“Carlo, sweetie we will play with you, we can play whatever you want,” Paracelsus says with fear in his voice, this power is something he has never seen before, something too extreme, he didn’t even think such a feat was possible.

Carlo gives them back their Ergo with a smile on his face.

Simon is just as stunned, that shouldn't be impossible, all the years he spent researching Ergo, and the only logical conclusion is that it can only be taken once someone dies or is about to die. Not even in his godly form was he able to do such a thing.

Geppetto plays with his son’s hair, “Great, you can play with your uncles while I prepare you lunch”

Geppetto has emerged victorious today, as Carlo drags Simon and Paracelsus to the basement.

—-

A tea party, a damn tea party.

Carlo is forcing them to play along, or rather forcing Simon to play along as Paracelsus seems to be having the time of his life.

The basement is way more decorated than the last time he came down here, it has a big toy chest where Carlo pulls out the fake tea cups, pots, and plates. It also has a lot of other fake props that a child could use to play with. Since the basement is already a big place the big table and chairs don’t feel like they take up too much space, even considering the amount of seats that are… occupied by Carlo’s toys, the puppets Geppetto built for him after he killed those at the hotel.

There are 10 seats, 5 occupied by the puppets; one by Romeo the teddy bear needing two cushions to be able to be seen, and seats for the 3 of them, one chair being left empty.

There is even a small wardrobe where Carlo has things to dress up as, thankfully the one given a costume is Paracelsus because he was the “fun uncle” and Simon is glad he doesn’t have that title.

A new carpet covers the floor but it has a bare spot where the hatch door Geppetto uses to throw away the bodies in.

At least since Carlo is too occupied playing with Paracelsus he just has to watch.

Paracelsus is wearing a simple but semi-formal dress, clearly some costume from a play, the dress it’s blue so it matches with his hair, and the light blue bow that comes with it compliments him.

Simon can’t deny how cute he looks.

Simon plays along from time to time but he mostly watches as Carlo and Paracelsus seem to be too entranced by it. He wonders what the deal with Paracelsus is, he really enjoys playing with Carlo each time they come here but Paracelsus is a madman, nothing about him makes sense.

A pretty mad man, in his stupid blue dress.

They all hear the door of the basement open, Geppetto calling for Carlo as lunch is ready. Carlo quickly rushes up towards his father’s side, leaving Paracelsus and Simon alone.

“Well, I should probably change” Paracelsus starts to remove the bow when he feels Simon touch his hand.

“You are beautiful”

Paracelsus is blushing, he never blushes, Simon leans in and kisses him.

“Like a princess”

They are both intensely looking at each other.

“Before the two of you start doing anything else, I will remind you that my son plays here,” Geppetto tells them from the door.

Now they are both blushing and making their way out of the basement.

——

Carlo says goodbye to his uncles, he had a really good time today. He is a little tired from playing so he asks his daddy to read him a book instead. When it’s dinner time, Carlo starts making conversation.

“Daddy, are Uncle Simon and uncle Paracelsus married to each other?”

Are they married? Probably not but “Yes they are son, why the question?”

“Aaww I wanted to throw them a wedding”

“I’m sure that they will agree to another one” Geppetto does appreciate the fact that they play with his son and make him happy, even if he doesn’t like either of them.

It’s nice to see Carlo so happy, Geppetto can tell that his son is very lonely, he was always a lonely child, only Romeo and Sophia being his friends. He was shunned and isolated by others, it was hard to hear the things Carlo tells to the toys he breaks, the horrible things said to him by his peers his age at that time.

“Daddy, When can we play all together again?”

“Well your birthday is coming soon so-“ Geppetto pauses.

Carlo’s birthday, it doesn’t feel real to him, he was told the news about Carlo’s death just a few days after his birthday. It doesn’t feel real either because it’s only been 10 months, not a year has passed since that entire fiasco of the frenzy happened.

“Daddy?” Carlo curiously tilts his head.

“Oh, Carlo I was just, remembering something, I’m sorry”

Everything becomes quiet, the atmosphere feeling tense.

“How I died?” Carlo’s voice sounds sad.

Geppetto can’t speak up, he feels like crying again, sometimes he thinks that he cries as much as his son.

The son he abandoned, the son he left to die alone.

Carlo lifts his arms, asking for a hug, Geppetto goes to his son’s side and hugs him, hugging each other with care.

“I’m sorry Carlo, I left you all alone”

“Daddy it’s okay”

Geppetto's heart starts racing.

“It wasn’t your fault”

No, it is his fault, he should have never left him alone.

“But even if it was, I forgive you Daddy”

Geppetto cries as he holds Carlo, this time his son comforting him instead of the other way around.

Geppetto kisses his son’s forehead and tells him how much he loves him, he feels like a broken record, but he loves him, and he will never stop loving his son.

When Geppetto goes outside to buy things, he hears people talk about the killer who is still loose, how people say horrible things and assumptions, but they know nothing because Carlo is a good boy.

Maybe others would say he is crazy, and maybe he is, maybe he is just as crazy as his son but Carlo is perfect in his eyes, he is a little angel, who forgave him despite all the harm he has caused him.

They both go to bed, it’s late and they are tired.

“Good night Daddy”

“Good night Carlo”

[astranva]

do you think you could ever write something abt harry getting love boners

Word Count: 951

Category: Fluff

Warning: some strong language

a/n: idk, friend but here’s my take of pure fluff vomit.

..

There are many scientific breakthroughs.

There are biological, astronomical, neurological, and every damn other-ocal breakthroughs to look back and fawn over.

But Harry was sure that there wasn’t any breakthrough that claimed someone’s heart gets literally bigger every time someone they love does something so fucking lovable.

That might not make sense so let him break this down; have you ever been in a place with someone you’re so in love with, and you watch them talk about something they love? Have you seen their eyes fucking twinkle like the brightest star there is? Have you ever heard them tumble over their words because they’re so excited?

To put it even simpler, have you ever gotten a love boner?

The kind of boner that didn’t include anything explicit – one you wouldn’t hide from everyone and be embarrassed by.

Because that was what Harry got every time he did as little as hear you say “I love you” back.

There you sat, talking to him about all potatoes are mashed to every stomach, with his head on your lap as you massaged his face with serum.

“So your fries? Or chips, whatever you want to call it,” you giggled, “You can taste the difference, but at the end of the day? It’s all mashed.”

Maybe to anyone else, nothing about the setting would be significant.

But your fingers were gentle on his face, taking care of him after a show, talking so gently about your most random thought to help him unwind from the fast-paced night.

If his heart couldn’t double in size, then a love boner is what he got.

“I love you.”

“So you can mash-what?”

“I love you.“

“I love you, too, silly.”

And then you giggled, and he was a goner.

It wasn’t the first time, really.

Harry got love boners quite too often now that he had a name for that feeling.

You’d be lying on bed, asleep and possibly dreaming about whatever crazy thought you always talk to him about when you wake up, but you’d subconsciously make sure any part of you touched Harry as you did; for warmth beyond temperature, for comfort beyond backaches, for shelter beyond walls.

He’d wake up, look at you and smile. Always – unless he was travelling, then he’d frown because he hated being away from you for long.

Call it whatever you want, he was in love.

The first time Harry noticed how you only slept well when you touched him was the fourth time you both slept together. Literally slept together.

The moment he was in bed, you had shifted closer to him, wrapped your arm around his waist, nuzzled your head to his side and slept in under 10 minutes after having had been awake for a hell more.

To Harry, that might have been the first time he got a love boner.

The second time he acknowledged the love boner was when you met his family.

Nerves were thrown out the window the moment you stepped inside the house, Anne and Gemma having treated you as if you had known each other for years.

“Right? They make it sound so easy!” You had exclaimed, laughing along with Anne.

“Exactly! I was telling Gem about it the other day. What do they expect us to do?”

Harry watched as you talked to the two most important women in his life, fitting like a missing jigsaw puzzle.

And he tinkled.

The third time it happened was when he woke up early one day to head over to the studio.

Sure, his heart clenched when you frowned as you slept when he got out of bed, but it did fucking cartwheels when he headed to the kitchen and found that you had prepared him lunch for his tiring day with a little note:

‘i’ll be grabbing you some pastries and salad in the afternoon! good luck today, baby. i love you :)’

There. Love fucking boner.

The fourth time it happened, you were attending one of his shows on his first tour.

You looked emotional; your eyes were tearful, your hands were clutched together, gaze set on him as he greeted the audience.

He had caught sigh of you that night, saw how focused you were on him, how you laughed at his jokes, sang along to his song, and had taken so many photos of him like one proud mom watching her kid play soccer.

He remembers strumming his guitar, eyes set on you with a smile on his face as you looked at him. He had mouthed an “I love you” and you had screamed it back with a blown kiss, and he might have melted there and then.

And it kept happening again and again; moments of when Harry couldn’t comprehend that the butterflies in his stomach, the stupid smile on his face, and complete zoning out were just him falling in love deeper and deeper with you over the most random actions you’d do, Lord forbid you hold a baby.

“Are you listening to me?”

He hummed, closing his eyes as he did before looking up at you, “Do you love me?”

You gave him a look that screamed “are you high?” and sure, he couldn’t blame you but he couldn’t blame himself either.

“Do you?” He repeated softly.

“I love you,” you replied, “So much. I wouldn’t be using my expensive serum on you if I don’t.”

He chuckled, “And I love you,” he breathed out, looking up at you from where he rested his head on your lap, “So much.”

“Where’s that coming from?” You asked with a smile.

Harry shrugged, “Was just thinking about you.”

“You’re whipped.”

“Like fucking cream, baby.”

[sukirichi]

— out of reach | gojo x reader

request: Girllllll I just read your jealous gojo fic and my heart went 📈📈📈📈💥💥💥 youre now one of my fav writers 🙏🧎‍♀️And the spicy parts 😫😫😫 💖 If your asks are still open, could I please request a fic where GOJO has a size kink 🥺🥺🥺 my 5’1 ass is obsessed with that shizzzz 

pov: you’re gojo’s childhood friend and roommate – which leads to utter chaos – or perhaps utter bliss?

warnings: size kink, lots of teasing, lots of cursing, dirty talk, choking (probably not in the way you think), body worship, lots of size difference scenes, slight manhandling, overstimulation, thigh fucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl guys) + unedited fic :D

notes: idk what happened here LMAOOO but i loved writing this one because i’m short as hell too lol. thanks for this request anon, i hope you like it! <3

word count: 10.5k

masterlist ! 

If you’re going to be honest, having Gojo as a roommate is something completely unexpected.

Not only are you two from entirely different worlds – him as a jujutsu sorcerer and you as an average human who can’t see curses – but he’s also just someone who is entirely out of your league. He’s respected and looked up to in his field of work, while half of your co-workers don’t even know your name, much less notice you in function parties where you mostly just nibble on sushi before calling it a day and turning back home.

You and Gojo met in elementary school. You could tell from the way he’s surrounded by servants and stern looking adults, firm hands on his small shoulders, that he was different from everyone else.

Apparently, he comes from one of the three big clans in the jujutsu world or whatever. You honestly don’t care about any of that, because Gojo refuses to act maturely about his role in the clan. You still remember how quiet he was on the first day of school, never smiling and keeping to himself despite your persuasion to eat lunch with him or play with him after school in the courtyard.

You miss that Gojo Satoru – the quiet, serious kid who was far too gentle in his actions yet firm in his words and beliefs. When you were still a little girl, you admired how he seemed older than his age, a wistful look in those azure blue eyes of his that you’ve always loved.

To you, Gojo Satoru was your hero. You’ve always been one of the shortest kids in class, and it didn’t help that you really loved pigtails all the way until middle school that made you an easy target from immature people who’s being hit way too fast by puberty and growing each passing day. You never minded your short stature because really, it’s just height, but you couldn’t ignore how your confidence dwindled each day when they called you several array of nicknames.

Too shy to fight back, you’d laugh it off or force a smile.

Gojo wasn’t having any of it. He’d break his silence and immediately pull you to his side (which only made things worse because Gojo was one of the tallest kids in class, further emphasizing how small you are right next to him) before threatening to smack the kids right in the face.

The threat should be enough to land him detention, but because he’s Gojo Satoru, the golden kid everyone loved, they took his word seriously.

At the age of eleven, you started seeing your best friend as your knight in shining armour. Gojo basked in this, growing protective and always glaring at whoever snickered when you walked past them. Sometimes he even bared his teeth to hiss at them, which was honestly so ridiculous now that you think about, though the message – the threat – always came across loud and clear.

So yeah, you love Gojo, you still do.

Years flew by and the two of you grew apart due to work and also as a part of growing up. You still kept in contact, messaging each other once a month to ask the other how they’re doing. His work kept him extremely busy though, and Gojo didn’t want you involved in the dangers of what he’s doing, so he makes sure to keep a safe distance.

Until six months ago, you hear a banging on your door. You’re just about ready to throw hands because your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to shoulder all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned to get the pair of lace panties they left in their room, but instead, your childhood friend stands before you, taller (seriously, how has he not stopped growing?) and definitely a lot hotter than the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never such distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable – yet chaotic – rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

Not that you mind, of course. Gojo’s definitely changed a lot from when you were kids. He’s no longer that stiff or sensitive when it comes to others. In fact, it seems like he loosens up a lot more with age, because you can barely recognize the man living under the same roof with you now.

For one thing, Gojo is loud. Like really talkative, won’t shut the fuck up and speaks like he’s in a screaming contest with someone. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking an important phone call or sleepwalking at three in the morning to pee, Gojo is always creating some sort of ruckus.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you loved it. You love him.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up, or in Gojo’s case, simply aged. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Not only does his body clock is practically non-existent, he’s also horrible when it comes to taking care of himself and being punctual with work.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You always wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have energy to start the day – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

Sleepily walking through the kitchen with your fist rubbing at your eyes, you rummage through the refrigerator for some eggs when you realize there’s none.

Huh, you think to yourself, scratching your scalp. You’re sure that Gojo went grocery shopping last week since it’s his chore to do the outside stuff like buying groceries and throwing thrash, so where did it go?

You open shelf by shelf, checking each corner and shoving cans aside to look for the tray. With a glare, you stand on your tiptoes to pull the pantry open, only to have your mouth fall aghast because it’s all there – right at the back where you can’t reach it!

Fucking Satoru, you grit your teeth while heaving your body up onto the counter. It’s a struggle because not only are your muscles still half asleep, but because the shelf is right in your face, and if you’re not careful enough, you could hit it right with your face and fall over. Of fucking course you know Satoru did this to make fun of you – and now you retract your statement over your best friend.

It’s all a lie.

He’s a pain in the ass. Why do you even bother cooking for him and letting him live literally just a room away when you know he won’t stop pulling shit like this?

Because, the nagging voice in your head tries to mock, he’s your best friend and you can’t really say no to him. This makes you huff as you carefully pull the tray towards you, hooking two fingers at the edge while your other palm grips at the end of the counter for support. No thanks to your short limbs, you’re practically hogging the shelf by now in an attempt to reach it. You look ridiculous, that’s for sure, and you make a mental note to keep Satoru’s windows open tonight so he freezes to death –

“Aw, cupcake,” a sing-song voice emerges from the other side of the room. “You look so adorable. You should’ve woke me up if you need my help.”

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you flip him off. The man only laughs, the rambunctious sound echoing off the walls. It’s way too early in the morning and he’s already so damn loud; something builds up at the back of your head out of frustration already. His grin only gets wider when you finally got the eggs and clutch it your chest, setting it down on the counter while wiping your sweat away from your face. “Freeloader,” you mutter under your breath, ignoring him when he happily skips over to you.

“Ouch,” he places a palm over his chest, although you both know he’s never really affected by anything. “So what’s for breakfast today? You?”

“You know, I can kick you out anytime I want. I’m being extremely nice even going as far to cook you breakfast before you leave for work, so don’t test my patience.”

“Exactly, my best friend is so kind,” Satoru grows the audacity to rest his arm on your head. This triggers a reflexive response from you; shoulders tensing up and hands curling into fists beside you. “I would totally date her if she wasn’t such a temperamental little devil,” you nearly stab him with a fork with his statement, which he thinks he’s being so sly for but you heard it, and you’re most definitely not pleased with it. “Okay, I’m kidding! I’m going to go shower now!”

You roll your eyes at him and heat the pan over with some oil, muttering under your breath that you’re really going to kick him out soon. As if things couldn’t get worse – as if Satoru couldn’t get any worse – he smacks your backside in the process before darting to the showers.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“Morning, best friend, love ya!”

You were right. He is a pain in the ass.

“You don’t always have to walk me to work.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you still here? I’m not a little kid anymore,” Contrary to your words, you stick closer to Satoru when the morning rush of workers and students begin to crowd the streets. Your best friend notices this with a small smile, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Don’t even try, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I know that look on your face,” you fiddle with the buttons of your uniform, sighing when Satoru follows you inside the bus after tapping your phone for two seats. It’s not a surprise to you anymore that most of your expenses are spent by him, for him, and he lazily sprawls his long limbs across the seat before you pulling you down right next to him.

As much as you hate this man, especially because he smirks at the attention he’s receiving from women – even men – in the bus, you have to admit he’s warm and smells damn good. You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking around in slight self-consciousness before inching a little closer, just to feel his warmth. He’s comforting – irrationally so – so you set your bag between the both of you to keep your sanity. “If you keep doing this, Principal Yaga might fire your ass because you’re never on time.”

“Trust me, cupcake, he won’t. I’m too valuable for that.”

How you saw that coming – you can’t tell anymore. The bus ride is relatively quiet and eventless, with you dozing off every now and then because you’re never a morning person. Thankfully, Satoru is more respectful this time around, lolling your head until it drops to his shoulder. After that, he snakes his arm around your waist before resting it on your thigh as a way to say you don’t have to head bang every damn second and just sleep.

On any other occasion, you would’ve hated it. You always look so small whenever you’re in Satoru’s presence. It doesn’t help that he’s long and lanky, either, his slender fingers effortlessly caressing your thigh while almost your entire body is flushed next to him. But right now, he’s too warm, too soft, and you’re too tired that for just a little bit, you allow yourself to relax.

A beeping wakes you up a moment later. Opening your eyes, you push yourself off Satoru when you see an old lady reaching for the handles. No one gave up their seats for her even as the bus driver asked her to find a seat lest she’d fall.

“Grandma, here, take my seat—” You’re about to stand up and offer it to her when Satoru tugs you by the wrist. Because of your small, wobbly composure, pulling you to him takes little to no effort. You end up on his lap, sitting on him as if you’re nothing but a small, dainty schoolbag. Satoru is clearly enjoying this because you feel him breathily laugh on the back of your neck, charming – annoyingly so – as he gestures to the now empty spot beside him.

“It’s no worries, Grandma. She’ll be fine,” he gestures to you, patting your head like you’re some puppy. “Please, take a seat. The bus is already moving.”

“Satoru, get off me,” You wriggle yourself from his hold, which only ends up in wasted effort because this big oaf doesn’t even budge. He even bounces you on one of his thighs, and you dig your nails into his arms as a silent plead for him to stop. He ignores this, ignores your small whines and the apparent embarrassment that has you debating whether to punch him or hide yourself in the safety of his uniform.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The old lady watches the two of you banter, giggling behind her wrinkled hands. “You’re an adorable couple.”

“I think so too!”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Satoru,” you grumble, face planted onto your palms. This is it – the worst day of your life. It’s even worse because despite your protests, you have to admit his lap is actually comfortable. You’ve already known this before after countless times of cuddling with Satoru during movie nights, but its different when you’re both out in public. It feels...oddly intimate and maybe even romantic when he rubs soothing circles at your back, almost as if apologizing for this event. Most of all, you just hate the way something pools beneath your stomach at having him so close to you like this. “This is so embarrassing. I’m practically crushing you with my weight.”

“Please, cupcake, you barely weigh anything. I could easily lift you off with just my finger,” when you elbow him in the chest, Satoru only laughs, raising both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing.”

You give up. No one seems to be paying much attention to any of you anyway, so you sigh, letting yourself hide in the crook of his neck as you watch the city pass through the windows. Your body moves as his chest rises and falls from his breathing, the movement oddly comforting. It’s embarrassing – it really is – but at least the grandma was comfortable until Satoru drops you off near your building.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”

“Why not? You don’t want people to see us together or something?”

“No,” you stare at him from the corner of your eye. It’s no secret Satoru is attractive. This bastard knows it too, judging from the way he confidently and arrogantly swaggers next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with no care in the world. “My co-workers keep asking me for your number every time I tell them we’re not dating. It’s getting annoying at this point how they go Satoru this and Satoru that.”

“Am I hearing it right? Is cupcake jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted,” you correct, “They don’t know how much of a pain you are to have around. They’re so focused with your looks that they completely overlook the fact you can’t even wash your dirty underwear!”

Satoru frowns at this, pointing his finger to you as if you’ve accused him of a huge crime. “Hey, I wash my underwear.”

“Yeah and last time you did, you mixed it with whites! My work uniform turned a stupid shade of blue! Now I can’t picture the colour of your boxers out of my head and it’s giving me a headache!”

“Wow, Y/N,” the smirk on his face and the sudden drop of nicknames lets you know you’ve said something wrong. Even behind his blindfold, you could tell his eyes are just sparkling with amusement. He’s enjoying this way too much. “I never thought you’d ever picture my boxers. I mean, I don’t mind showing it to you if you ask nicely—”

“Ugh, you’re so hopeless. I’m going to work.”

Gojo laughs when you jog away from him. He catches up with you in a matter of seconds, only having to take a few steps forward before he’s right beside you again. You’re unsure if you should be annoyed it’s so easy for him to always be right next to you, and how he almost always is right next to you while you prefer running away. It muddles with your heart and mind so much you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to be swayed by the sickeningly sweet sound of his laughter. “I can’t pick you up later, okay? I might work overtime!” (that’s a lie since Gojo prefers shopping and sightseeing)

Both of you know that’s a lie. Gojo never works overtime. He’s going to work for a few hours and so and call playing around with his students as “on-hand learning” before he goes shopping for stupid souvenirs and wild-flavoured mochis, then end his day by sightseeing and coming back home.

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you mumble, waving goodbye to him as the office doors close. Slowly, Satoru’s grin and enthusiastic farewell fades into view until nothing but the pale, silver walls of your office greets you.

Funny how you claim to hate this man so much, yet the moment he’s out of sight, everything becomes dull and pointless.

It’s an absolutely shitty day. Your equally shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his incompetent secretary – who you’re sure he’s sleeping with – lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when you’re not involved in that kind of work. Logic doesn’t come by them because your boss publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off as you head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off anymore as you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, padding to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to look after himself? He’s literally like a child.

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you with curiosity. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner, all the while Satoru is studying every inch of your tightly pulled face. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to retrieve the pans when you see that he’s placed them above again, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it near the holders in the sink. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this. I’ve had enough with you pulling pranks on me, and don’t think I’ve forgotten you placed my shampoo above the shower head today, you idiot,” you snarl and hop over the counter again to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling – both physically and emotionally. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out, and you watch as Satoru raises a brow at your statement. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so earlier? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls an octave lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow, this time completely in control of himself as he gazes back up at you with a burning gaze. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, almost teasing, and he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his strong shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth, very much still enjoying the way you wriggle away from his hold. He knows his effect on you – but you deny this wholeheartedly.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, muttering curses under your breath as you heat up the stove. “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner after that is awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he takes his time in eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions like how your day was or he’d talk about something stupid, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off and actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it. Memories of the rude things you’ve said to him a while ago play and in your head, and you bang your head against the wall repeatedly.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop shuffling around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually done that, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully tread to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

You’ve seen Satoru angry as kids before, but what would he be like now? Would he still want to be your friend? Would he still annoy you by hiding your things somewhere you can’t reach? Or would he be the who is now out of reach? If he leaves...who’s going to walk you to work? Who’s going to complain he doesn’t want to do groceries but buys you things you don’t ask for but want anyway? Who’s going to keep teasing the living daylights out of you if not him?

All these thoughts claw at the back of your mind until your bottom lip trembles. You hate how weak you feel; how you’re never careful with your words.

You never meant it when you said all that.

Your train of thought is cut off when the door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, so I wasn’t totally myself that time and I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet instead. It’s difficult to look him in the eye right now. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands delicately tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, or worse, he refuses to forgive you, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. Hiding your smile to now show him you’re relieved, you punch his chest that really feels like a fly had accidentally flew into him. “Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. And here I thought I could have a serious conversation with you for once.”

“Apology accepted,” he beams, tilting your chin upwards so you could look at him. Even in the darkness of his room, his eyes glow, leaving you hypnotized in its beauty. “Plus, I think I’m the one who should apologize. You’re right; I haven’t been the best roommate and I am a freeloader,” he scratches the side of his head in thought. “But I do buy you food all the time though.”

“Yeah, with my money,” you counter, but you don’t really care anymore at this point. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

It would be perfect – except it’s so damn awkward.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over the curve of your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts, but if he shifts, he’ll end up cupping the back of your thighs which is equally uncomfortable.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Your breath is hot on his skin and he’s so sensitive and aware of all your movements. Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. It’s not the softest pillow considering he’s pretty muscular, but he’s warm and smells like mint spice nevertheless. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh afterwards before he lets it go and the material snaps back at your skin, “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

You know exactly what he’s trying to hint at. Still, it’s hard to believe that Satoru is capable of seeing you that way.

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old and you’ve been constantly chastised about it.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off seconds later or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, but soon all thoughts of anything unwanted drifts out the window, his arms keeping you close, completely safe and sound until the worst nightmares couldn’t even come close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Even your toes are captured inside this hell, and only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips. If you weren’t so hell-bent on killing him, you would’ve been speechless at the way water drips from his hair down to the curves of his abs, going down down down into a place only your darkest imaginations could take you.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

Maybe it’s because the violent intent has coursed through your veins so strongly that a surge of energy and strength overcomes you, and soon, you’ve rolled out of the blanket. The fresh air nipping at your heated skin is most welcomed, but right now, you had a mission to fulfil: obliterate Gojo Satoru.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him, short arms clawing your way through to snatch his phone. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him and his lips are so soft that has you scrambling back, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you do so. You no longer remember how you got here or try to make sense of what’s going on, because he feels so good, tastes so good that you bury your nails in his hair while he ravishes your mouth.

You’re so tiny that his hand cups your entire buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. Satoru tastes like heaven and everything about the kiss is sloppy – tongue clashing with one another and teeth nibbling at the other’s lips. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching your teeth on his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. You nearly lose it when he pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there and then, the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side, but the post-nut clarity hits. And when it does, it hits hard.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches, and he’s so unsatisfied, still painfully hard underneath you but nothing but panic and regret washes over you like a strong tidal wave. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared, utterly and remorsefully so, that you slam the door right in his face as if you don’t have any idea how much you broke him.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all. It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number, or how you’re immediately pissed off when Satoru talks about this hot woman he saw at work. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

He’d knock at your door and ask you to eat, but other than that, he’s respected your distance.

You feel like the most terrible person on earth. You don’t miss the way dark circles line under his eyes or how he’s lost his spark, barely even speaking to you when you’ve come or about to leave for work.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why is he so bothered by it? Didn’t he regret it? It’s painfully clear you’re not Satoru’s type. You’ve seen the women he dated before, and you’re not close to them so why does he seem like he’s struggling with this as well? Or maybe...he’s just sad that his friend is avoiding him.

Yeah, that has to be it.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you – his best friend out of all people – because he’s Gojo Satoru and he could literally have everyone else.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. To him, you’re like his little sister. There’s just no way you two would work out. For now, you have to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun, but he’s the last person you want to think about now, so you happily join them. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him, but of course they had to bring him up. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.” And also because I’m avoiding him – so now he’s avoiding me too.

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers who wouldn’t stop pestering you for his number. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

Right. You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. As much as you hate to admit, you’re actually jealous on how freely they could talk about him like that, but then again, it’s not like you and Satoru were dating – or would ever date, for that matter.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. It’s cold – way too cold – and curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you inhale sharply when coldness bursts through your body, making you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you – even after you’ve given him the silent treatment. “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He immediately asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore that you’re sticking so close to him for heat.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time. Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair, leaving your mouth and throat dry with guilt. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru...” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I...”

“You regret it, right?” he’s done with drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels in the sink as you watch him stride all the way there. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants, looking every bit the domestic boyfriend you’ve always wanted but can never have. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you, though it does nothing but make your heart sink.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if...the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your heart is pulsing on your tongue, and you dig your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you, right next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes calculatedly piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin cups your jaw before his thumb runs across your lips, his eyes turning dark at your reactions.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is absolutely feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie when Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath his clothes, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are so long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers deliciously rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please...”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.

[special-agent-starburst]

Gibbs x reader NSFW GIF: not mine After a rough day at work, you need to de-stress, Warnings: adult situations... this is a first for me. Not sure how I did, Still getting the hang of it. Let me know

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You’re not sure how you’ve ended up in this position, but you’re sure as hell not complaining.

When you woke up this morning, you had no idea this was how your day was going to end.

At this point, most of the day is a blur to you.

Maybe it’s because you’ve decided to not focus on being abducted from right under your teams’ noses.

You’d been missing for almost 2 hours before someone even realised you had vanished.

Tony had told you Gibbs had almost killed Agent Dawson when the man had confessed that he had no idea where you were, or how long you were missing for.

Team Gibbs had taken over the case and the rest was history.

If Tony’s livid expression was anything to go by, you knew Gibbs was going to be about a thousand times angrier.

And you knew the bruising around your eye and cheek was not going to help, at all.

Gibbs didn’t bother taking you back to NCIS HQ. No, he took you directly to his home, making sure to lock the front door after the pair of you entered.

You take a seat on the couch as Gibbs goes down to his basement. You wonder if he’s going to stay there for a while. Rumor has it he’s building a boat in there, but you haven’t seen it so you’re not sure.

He returns a few minutes later, bottle of bourbon in one hand and a mug in the other. He pours you a generous shot and tells you sip it. You take a small sip and wince, only slightly, as the liquid races down your throat taking a layer of lining with it.

He says something to you but you’re zoned out and so don’t hear it. He doesn’t press, simply walks toward the staircase to the upper level of his house. The sound of the shower reaches you a few minutes later and you relax a little.

The next thing you’re aware of is Gibbs gently waking you up. You obviously hadn’t realised you’d dozed off on his couch.

He asks if there’s anything you want, and the only thing you want is something you can’t have… so you tell him you don’t mind taking a shower, but you have no clean clothes, seeing as your go-bag is back at HQ.

He leads you up to the bathroom and disappears into one of the bedrooms. He returns with a pair of boxers, trackpants and a hoodie. You look up questioningly and shrugs. Well, it’s better than putting on your dirty clothes, so you take his offering and close the door before you strip your clothes off and step into the shower cubicle.

The hot water on your body feels like heaven. You stand in the spray, washing the day away, trying to keep out the events from your mind. Sure, the team had gotten to you before anything bad had happened, but you still didn’t want to relive it. Your mind doesn’t obey and it automatically does what you don’t want it to…

By the time Gibbs comes to check on you, you’re seated on the shower floor and the spray has turned cold. You hadn’t noticed.

He doesn’t waste time, he grabs the towel from the rack, turns off the tap and steps into the cubicle to get you out.

He averts his gaze as much as he can, but you’re not helping and so he has to physically lift you from your seated position and only then can he wrap the towel around you. You’re shivering from the cold water and he pulls you to him, not caring that you’re going to get him wet even though he’s long showered.

You press your body flush against his, not wanting him to let go of you.

“(Y/N)?” You simply squeeze tighter against him.

He doesn’t say anything further, though he does lead you to a bedroom, the stack of clothes he’d handed you earlier in his hand. He deposits them onto the bed, and tries to do the same with you, much more gently, but you’re not having any of it.

“(Y/N)?” he asks again and this time you respond.

“I just need a minute.” He doesn’t wince at your tone and you’re grateful. You’re going to let go of him so you can get dressed. 

You unwrap your arms from around him and gently push him until he’s seated on the bed. You don’t know where your bravery comes but you don’t even look at the clothes on the bed. No, you fix your gaze on the man seated in front of you, drop the towel and climb onto his lap.

You will admit, his poker face is brilliant. He shows no visible reaction to your action, but you can feel a stirring where you’re pressed intimately against him.

Neither of you move.

His eyes pin yours.

When you’re sure he’s not going to throw you off him you grind against him and he lets out a moan. His hands come up to your hips, trying to control your movements, but there’s no need because you don’t move again.

You band your fingers around his wrists, slowly moving his hands from your hips, up your sides, to your chest and to your breasts. He squeezes them gently and you sigh in response.

You grind against him for the second time, your gaze still pinned to his. He’s a little concerned, you can see it, but he doesn’t stop you.

“You don’t need permission to feel me,” you whisper.

“You’re going to regret this in the morning,” he tells you, but you know you won’t. Taking this step with Gibbs, there won’t be any regret from your side. You need to check that he won’t regret this either.

“I won’t,” you say but he shakes his head. “I won’t,” you say, more firm this time and he accepts it. “If you’re having second thoughts though…” you start but he doesn’t let you finish, he presses his lips to yours, gently kissing you.

He does something with his tongue that heightens the kiss and you can’t get enough of him.

And then you’re pulling his trackpants just low enough that his dick springs up. He’s semi-hard and heavy in your hand. You wrap your fist around him and stroke him, from base to tip, applying pressure at different intervals. He squeezes your breasts in response. Once he’s fully hard and erect, you get off his lap and motion for him to scoot up the bed. He does so and you follow him and once again settle yourself on his lap, leaving a small gap between his dick and you. You know you’re wet already with the way you were grinding on him, and you angle his cock to your entrance and slowly lower yourself onto him.

It takes a few seconds as you adjust to his length and girth, and then you’re settled in his lap, your legs banded around his butt. You don’t think you could get physically closer to this man. He wants to start moving, but you don’t allow him to, instead you squeeze your internal muscles and this gives him a new sensation and he moans your name, pulling you closer into him, your nipples rubbing against his hoodie.

“There’s no rush,” you whisper as you squeeze him again.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he replies.

“Yeah, but what a way to go,” you laugh and this time he grinds against you and you moan long and hard.

“That’s it,” he says as he starts moving his hips, his dick sliding in and out of you. He’s careful not to slide out completely, not wanting to lose any contact with you. He keeps the rhythm consistent and you can feel your orgasm building. He kisses you again, harder this time, keeping in time with his thrusts. you feel his fingers rubbing your clit helping you along. You’re almost there, you can feel it and you start moving wanting to cum but Gibbs stops you moving by placing his hands on your hips.

“There’s no rush,” he repeats your words from earlier.

“Giiiiiiibbs,” you whine and he lets out a chuckle.

“I’ll make it worth your while, I promise,” he tells you and you know he will. But that doesn’t mean you still don’t want to cum.

He changes the rhythm and you feel the build up again and you’re almost there about to come and you squeeze his cock with your muscles but he’s already slowed down and your orgasm evades you for the second time. Its not just his mouth that’s talented, his fingers and dick are too.

He goes on this way for a while, building you up, only to deny you just when you think you can’t take it anymore.

And then finally after what seems like hours later he builds you up, his thrusts becoming more intense, his cock red and hard, his balls heavy with cum. You restrain yourself from squeezing his dick, letting him continue his thrusting. And then you can feel that he’s close to cumming because his thrusts are out of sync and he’s sloppily kissing you and finally, finally he begins to rub your clit again and doesn’t stop. Your orgasm, while expected still catches you off-guard and you feel Gibbs follow a few seconds later when your pussy clenches around his dick, milking him for everything he has.

You’re both panting hard, trying to catch your breath and Gibbs tries to pull himself out of you but you grind on him, just for fun and his dick responds in kind. He’s not hard but being slightly hard is enough reason for you to keep him inside of you…

You still have the entire night to go….

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if you have a request, send it in. if you'd like to be tagged let me know and I'll start a list.

Masterlist here

[holy-megs]

Could you write a Kiba Inuzuka request of him (and Akamaru) being pouty when his mom/sister steal his girlfriend away when they're meant to be spending the day cuddling in his bed?

𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐭. 𝐊𝐢𝐛𝐚 𝐈𝐧𝐮𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐚

📙༉‧₊˚ pairings: Kiba Inuzuka x fem!reader

📙༉‧₊˚ content + warnings: modern au, college au, fluff

📙༉‧₊˚ notes: I’m more than excited to write about Kiba😍! I really liked this request because this boy is underrated🥺. I also hope this meets your expectations <3

It was storming outside when you woke up this morning, but you don’t mind. You actually like rainy days, and you really enjoy the smell of rain and the vibes in general, but what makes rainy days better is your boyfriend’s clingy behavior.

You can also never forget his dog, Akamaru, who has adored you since the first time Kiba invited you to his apartment when the two of you started dating.

He sure talked a lot about him way before your relationship, and you really understood why when you met him. And even though you are a cat person, you consider Akamaru a special presence in your life, and you both have empathy for one another.

While finishing your morning routine, you read a text message from your boyfriend, Kiba. You expected it anyway, but not that early. Kiba is not really the early in the morning type of guy, despite being energetic and all when with you or with friends.

Kiba❤️: Babe let me pick you up after lessons ;)

You now really know what’s up and you can’t help but let that smile grow in your features. So, with excitement washing over you, you began to type a reply back to him.

-

Checking your phone one last time it said 2:30 PM. Kiba is obviously waiting for you at the parking lot, and you don’t wanna make him wait any longer because he obviously wants to cuddle already.

You can’t argue though, you also wanna have his cute face snuggling against you. But this sweet boy has been waiting for this moment since this morning and when you agreed to stay for the night, oh boy, he was more than eager to imagine how it’ll be to have you in his arms while you were going to sleep peacefully.

-

While Kiba takes his keys out and opens the door you would swear that you saw a giant white thing coming in your way with a fast pace. Realizing who it was you began to pet him until he melt. It seems that Akamaru is also impatient and excited for some cuddles.

-

You realise that the rain has stopped but that doesn’t stop you from snuggling into Kiba on his bed while he has his arms wrapped around you and is laying on his stomach with you on top of him, you wonder how you got so lucky as to feel his hot breath against your neck.

We can never forget about our cute boy, Akamaru, sleeping beside both of you.

“I want us to stay like this forever.” Kiba said with flushed cheeks as you laughed. A laugh that even you have never heard of before comes out of you.

“You know, I too want this forever.” Out of embarrassment, you hid your face in his neck, and Kiba’s eyes wound up.

You both never really shared your feelings with one another, especially Kiba. Those types of confessions aren’t really his thing, but he does it on occasions when you two cuddle like that.

Another thing for Kiba and you, of course, is that you both hate when others disturb you in your peace and relaxing time and—

“Oh Kiba hey.” Hana came out of nowhere with excitement. You really feel disappointed now, for real.

“Hana, how the hell did you even get in?”. You too are beginning to wonder. You recall Kiba having a spare key, but you don’t think he gave it to anyone. You even knew where he hid it.

“Mom gave me your spare key. We knew where you hid it all along anyway, so we stole it, and I don’t wanna waste any more time because she is waiting for me and (Y/N) to go shopping”.

Akamaru had been resting soundly until he heard that there was a possibility you would be leaving. He looked at Kiba, and Kiba looked back at him, both of their faces filled with despair.

“Shopping? But me and K-”

Hana was the one who cut you off. “You and Kiba can continue your business later, but we need your help with some lady matters right now.”

“Hana, me and (Y/N) are having a moment. Come by later, but for now we’re busy.” Kiba said with a harsh tone. Akamaru also barked, as a sign that he agreed with Kiba.

“Kiba, it seems that they need me, so I’ll go. Besides, I don’t want to make a bad impression on my future mother in law”. You smiled at him. A warm smile reassuring him and making him feel safe.

“You heard her, she is coming with us.” Hana exclaimed, as her face flushed with pride.

Kiba and Akamaru started pouting but you tried to console them in any way possible.

“Fine, go but I’ll wait here no matter the time.” Kiba said while holding your waist and kissing you.

Akamaru was also all over you and tried to gain your attention.

“I will come as fast as I can for both of you.” You said in between kisses.

© 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲-𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐬, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[xoxo-teddybear]

The Bakugou Kids - Bakugou Katsuki

(Dad)Bakugou x (Mom)f!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Crack, Cursing

Summary: Bakugou and Y/N love their son with their entire beings, but sometimes, parents need a break. Especially when those parents are responsible for creating a literal demon spawn. He is kind, well behaved, and cute of course! But he does have Bakugou blood in him. With Y/N already away on a girls trip, Bakugou has to find out how he’s going to deal with his (now) many, many kids.

A/N: You passed down your duplication quirk down to Katsuo.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You asked your husband as you stood at the doorway. “Katsumi may be a calm baby but she’s still a baby. And Katsuo’s quirk just kicked in and it is mine. I would know how difficult it can be to manage.”

“Stop worrying, Babe. It’s just a duplication quirk. And he’s only 5, how powerful can it really be?”Katsuki said, wrapping his arms around you. “Just go on your little girl’s trip with Ponytail and Racoon Eyes. I can handle the brat.”

You looked at your husband with a raised brow and smile before rolling your eyes and giving him a kiss. “Alright then. I’ll see you in a few days!”

With that, you walked out of the house and into the cab to meet your friends at the resort. Katsuki chuckled before walking back into the house to find his son napping on the couch. His spiky, blonde locks were all messed up with bed head while his E/C eyes he inherited from you remained shut. Katsuki walked over to his newborn daughter and picked her up while he took a seat next to Katsuo’s sleeping form, rubbing at his soft hair until he woke up.

“Can’t be all that bad, right Katsumi?”

The baby girl merely cooed with sparkling ruby eyes that mimicked her father’s.

—

Wow. Wrong. He was so wrong! It had only been 2 days since your departure but things had already gone so wrong! When you said your quirk was difficult to manage, Katsuki thought it would be difficult for Katsuo to manage. Not him!

Katsuki should’ve known his son would’ve taken the opportunity to act out while his mother was away. He had always been your little angel while Katsuki saw him as his little gremlin. With Y/N gone, Katsuo has been pushing all kinds of limits. Limits that had Katsuki beat.

Katsuo had been fortunate enough to inherit a quirk. And not just any quirk, but your quirk. Duplication. Basically, he can create copies of himself. When you were his age, you could only create 4, max. Katsuo was different though. He had Bakugou blood flowing through him. He was advanced the second he was born. So now, Katsuki was stuck looking after Katsumi, Katsuo, and Katsuo’s 16 other copies.

“Aye! Number 15, you’re gonna break that lamp! 11 and 8! Don’t wrestle in the mud! Go take a bath! NUMBER 3 GET OFF THE KITCHEN ISLAND! KATSUMI!” The adult blond screamed, looking for his infant daughter, eventually finding her sleeping in her little rocker on the living room floor. “Oh right, you don’t talk yet.”

Katsuki sighed as he slumped down next to his daughter, and leaned his back against the couch. He looked around the room and saw the 17 Katsuo’s making a ruckus around the house. All he could do was question how the hell is 3 month old daughter could possibly sleep through all this.

Katsuki almost lost all hope for humanity until a knock was heard on his front door. Knowing exactly who was there, he quickly got up from his place on the floor and ran to the entrance. “You idiots are finally here!”

Katsuki pulled in his 3 friends, the boys of the Bakusquad, and slammed the door shut. The 3 friends all stood in shock at the sight of the house. Not that it was overly messy or anything. It’s just that there were about 16 more figures in the house that aren’t usually there.

“You gotta help me!” Katsuki said, running infront of them, shaking his best friend’s shoulders. “I love my kids! I do! I love Katsuo, I swear! BUT I DIDNT SIGN UP TO BE A FATHER OF 18 FREAKING DEVILS!”

“Okay! Okay, relax man. We’re here.” Kirishima said, patting his friend’s shoulder as he wept. “How the hell are we gonna take care of 17 little Bakugous?”

“Right? We thought 1 Kacchan was a lot. Then you brought another one into the world, who apparently brought some unannounced friends.” Kaminari joked.

“They’re demons!” Katsuki exclaimed. “This has to be some fucking Karma for the shit I did. I knew I should’ve listened to my old hag better. Now shits came back to bite me in the- HEY! PUT YOUR SISTER DOWN! SHE’S NOT A FOOTBALL!”

Katsuos number 7 and 5 placed a sleeping Katsumi back in her rocker with an annoyed pout before running off to play something else.

“Welllll, there’s nothing that 3 cool uncles can’t fix!” Sero enthusiastically said. “Hey kiddos! Who’s ready to have some fun?”

All the mini blondes stopped their movements, some freezing mid-air, and looked to the slim man. They all shouted in joy at the sight of their uncles and ran to pounce on the 3 men, including their father. From the point of view of the boys in the Bakusquad, it looked like a Bakugou stampede.

“Run, run, RUN, RUN, RUUUNN!!!!” Kaminari screamed as the boys all ran for their lives to escape the herd of Katsuos. This was going to be an interesting day.

—

Safe to say after the day had passed, the boys of the Bakusquad were completely exhausted. Sero had half his clothes torn, Kirishima’s hair fell from it’s great spikes and even lost some red hues, Katsuki’s eye bags had never been heavier, and Kaminari was just straight knocked the fuck out. They were all thrown across the couch as Katsumi rested in Katsuki’s arms.

“What do we do?” Kirishima exclaimed.

“I don’t know.” Katsuki said, looking at his scrambling son(s). “There’s just too many.”

“And we’ve already lost a soldier.” Sero said pointing to Kaminari’s sleeping form. Katsuki and Kirishima followed his gaze and bowed their heads in respect towards the defeated Kaminari.

“Well now what? Is Bakugou just supposed to live like this for the next 3 days?” Kirishima asked.

“Hell no. If I do, there’s not gonna be anymore Katsuki. I’ll just be some body without a soul because my damn gremlins sucked it outta’ me.” Katsuki said with his head dropped down.

“Well how do we get them to calm down?” Sero questioned.

“I don’t know. They’re all mini me’s. Nobody could get me to relax.” Katsuki said in defeat, but that’s when Kirishima had a lightbulb go off for him.

“Except for Y/N!” The red head said, popping up from his seat on the couch.

“Uh, if you haven’t noticed Shitty Hair, this all started because she’s away on her trip.” Katsuki said with sarcasm as he looked at his friend as if he was an idiot.

“I know that! But Y/N wasn’t the only one to tame you, Bakugou!” Kirishima said in excitement.

“So then who else?” Katsuki asked.

“You know,” Kirishima smirked. “Denki’s favorite person. Y/N and.........”

It took Katsuki a second before his eyes popped when he finally got it. “No!”

“Yes!” Kirishima said.

“No way! We’re not going to her!” Katsuki complained.

“Who?” Sero asked.

“Nobody!” Katsuki screamed.

“Oh it’s somebody alright! Somebody who was able to tame the beast in Bakugou the second he was born!” Kirishima said.

“Who?” Sero asked. Katsuki finally sighed before he gave in, realizing this was his only hope for sanity. He grabbed his phone and made a quick call before explaining to his dark-haired friend.

“The demon of all demons...”

—

The door opened to reveal a tall standing brunette and an elder feminine blonde.

“...My mother.”

—

The boys of the Bakusquad all sat lined up on the couch as Mitsuki stood at Katsuki’s end and smacked her son’s head.

“You idiots! Y/N leaves for 2 days and all hell breaks lose?!” Mitsuki screamed at the 3 young men.

“You old hag! Quit hitting me! Ima’ grown man for crying out loud!” Katsuki screamed as he rubbed his head. Masaru simply bounced the sleeping Katsumi in his arms as he watched the scene play out.

“Well if you’re such a grown man then why can’t you manage your own kids without your wife’s help?!” Mitsuki argued, leaving Katsuki silent as he grumbled. The eldest blonde sighed before continuing. “Alright listen, I’ll watch these little devils for the next few days until Y/N comes back. I’d love to spend some time with my grandbrats. Why don’t the 3 of you go take a break and-“

“THANKS! Let’s go losers!” Katsuki said dragging his friends to the exit. Mitsuki and Masaru only laughed at their son’s behavior as they began tending to the kids.

The boys of the Bakusquad all quickly walked out of the house and headed for their cars as they all walked together.

“So, where to?” Sero asked.

“We could go head up that new resort in Tokyo!” Kaminari suggested.

“Naahhh. That’s where Y/N’s having her girl’s trip. Wifey would kill me if she saw me there instead of at home with the kids.” Katsuki said with his hands in his pockets. Kirishima raised his brow at this.

“Oh? So then, maybe we should go back and-“

“You know, on second thought,” Katsuki said with wide eyes once Kirishima made the suggestion. He took his hands out of his pockets and placed them behind his friend’s backs to keep them moving. “Maybe she won’t kill me..if I’m lucky..and wish..upon a shooting star....a million times over. Hah.....yeah. TO THE RESORT!”

As they walked, Kaminari attempted to look at the house once more, prompting Katsuki to turn his friend’s head back around. “No, no, no, don’t look back, they can smell fear.”

[lovelybarnes]

baby blue- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, tony stark bruce banner, steve rogers, sam wilson warnings: child bucky, language, this is long. why is this so long about: requested by @cherry-season (apparently can't tag you)! bucky turns into a baby/toddler and is clingy a/n: okay so i know virtually nothing about three-year-olds. can you tell? thank you so much for requesting!! I had so much fun writing this <333

[@tylard-blog1]

bucky’s day wasn’t particularly fantastic to begin with.

he was already exhausted when he woke up in the early lights of the morning, his nightmares had kept him up all night-- which you theorized was due to the mission the day before that took place in one of the same hydra bases bucky had been held in. you had frowned when you realized it the day of, turning your attention to bucky and making sure he was okay with it because if he wasn’t, you would make sure someone else took care of it. he had insisted it was fine, even though the next night proved him wrong. you had done what you could, running your fingers through his hair and humming lightly until you fell asleep and he refused to wake you up, resigning himself to a sleepless night.

his morning started with his flesh arm reaching out to feel your side of the bed, hoping to find your soft, warm skin to pull you closer, but instead being met with the unkind sheets that missed the gentleness of your body. he had frowned when he realized you had already left for a meeting with some important hotshot in space with carol (you couldn’t find a better excuse to go get breakfast at your favorite alien restaurant with your favorite aliens) and wouldn’t be back for a solid few hours too long. groaning, and with no real reason to stay in bed for any longer without the excuse of getting to feel you for a few more hours, he dragged himself out of bed.

it didn’t get much better from there, because he was greeted with the sight of sam eating the last bowl of the last box of cereal in the whole damn tower because everyone rejected to go grocery shopping. since bucky refused to eat any of the frozen breakfasts tony loved so much and the stark kid swore were “the best thing ever,” he grunted at sam and walked away without eating, knowing he’d regret it later when his stomach would growl and you would immediately know he skipped breakfast.

for some unknown reason, tony had found out about bucky’s lack of things to do, and with a few winks and manipulative large-worded engineering phrases, convinced him to join him in the lab, which bucky had only really been able to see through the clear glass that separated the lab from the rest of the tower, and from the occasions where he would take food and drinks to you while you locked yourself away inside, building something alongside tony.

being inside, so close to the various machines and objects bucky cant begin to figure out the purpose of, his memories of being in school and at the top of his math and engineering classes bubble to the surface, filling him with the pride he remembers having every day at school. the thought that he could probably understand everything if you or tony explained it to him passes through his mind and urges him to ask tony to do just that, but tony beats him before he can get the chance.

bruce is eyeing them wearily from the other side of the lab, attention mostly on the test tubes in front of him. he gives bucky a smile when he comes in, but seems to ignore him for the most part until tony shows bucky to bruce’s work station, pointing out a blue liquid in a test tube marked TESTING. bruce’s neck snaps to them when tony open his big mouth, “you know, y/n was actually supposed to test something out for me today,” tony begins innocently, a suggestion laced in his words that bucky catches but decides to ignore because of the high he feels from understanding the equations scribbled on the clear glass, “do you know where she is?”

bucky narrows his eyes at him, then looks up at the clock, realizing it’s still a while before you get back, “not even on earth,” he recipes blandly, slyly sneaking a glance at the liquid for any indications of what it could be.

tony sighs dramatically, his shoulders sagging, “oh no, how do i test this now?” bruce shoots tony a warning glance that is blatantly ignored.

bucky’s shrugging before he can help it, the reminder that since you were going to do it, what could be the harm if he did? “i could do it.”

tony claps, “great!” he gestures to a door behind him, “please go in there to sign non-disclosure agreements and wash your hands.”

bucky’s shoved inside before he can fully understand the implications of his stupid offer.

-

the thought of asking the basic questions he should have asked before he agreed to test an unidentified liquid comes to bucky nearly an hour later, when the small vial of weird blue liquid sits in front of him, waiting to be drunk. tony and bruce sit in chairs a couple of feet away, clipboards in both of their hands, and interested expressions settled on their features.

“what does this do again?” he asks, squinting at the vial that he doesn’t notice tony isn’t looking at, furrowing his eyebrows when tony waves him off, “something super smart. no side effects or anything.” bucky’s eyes flit down to the little vial again, before they nearly bug out of his head at the humongous laser that is rolled into the room, “what the hell is that.”

“ah,” tony grins, bouncing from his seat to stand next to his invention proudly, “this is what you’re testing out.” bucky cocks his head at the man, “i thought i was drinking blue water. y/n was going to drink blue water.” tony shakes his head, adjusting some dials on the machine, “yeah, no, it was this. pretty sure i told you.”

“you didn’t-” bruce is looking at tony in concern, about to tell him to slow down so bucky has a chance to think all this through again and maybe ask if there is any chance the laser will melt him, when tony clicks a large red button and a bright white light clouds bucky’s vision just as he sees the clock on the exact same time he saw an hour ago, realizing the clock in the billion-dollar lab is broken, and you’re probably getting home any second.

“tony!” he hears bruce yell before his vision goes dark.

it’s only a second until he can pry open his eyes again, a hand curling into a fist, ready to pound stark into tomorrow when he can suddenly feel the nails of his hand digging into his palm. the surprising feeling of it where his vibranium arm should be forces him to look down at a small arm, fully skin and thin. he looks around, noticing his surroundings suddenly have grown very large around him, and the sound of his voice is higher when he tries to speak again.

“what the f-” he mumbles, cutting himself off when a sudden memory of his ma yelling at him to wash his mouth out if he wants to talk like that floods his mind, and he stares down at himself, eyebrows furrowing when he spots his short stature and the tiny hands and feet that look up at him. realization floods him like a wave, raising his chin at the two, tall, gobsmacked men in front of. “was that supposed to happen?” bruce asks quietly, nodding slowly when tony shakes his head, “no.”

there’s a light knock at the door, your hand pushing it open before anyone can stop you, and your tired face peeks in, a glowing smiling adorning your face and your eyes searching for your boyfriend, “hey, do you guys know where bucky is-” your voice cuts through the stunned silence, pausing when you catch the little boy’s eye. at first, you stare at him, your eyebrows pulling together as you get a good look at the familiar cerulean of his eyes and scan the clothing you’d seen on bucky before. for a second, everything is silent, bucky’s eyes are wide and staring as yours bore into them, searching for something you’re nearly touching until you gasp, “bucky?” you choke, reaching for him when he nods, his legs already trying to reach you as fast as they possibly can but they buckle. bucky realizes just then how old he must be now. “oh, baby,” you murmur, gathering him up in your arms before he can fall to the hard ground of the lab. “what the hell did you idiots do to my boyfriend?” you demand, turning to the two scientists who are going over tony’s notes.

bruce glances at tony, tilting his head at him as if to say him. you roll your eyes, not having any more information than when you asked, “tony?” you growl, walking over to the man, not missing the way little bucky’s hand grabs onto your shirt.

“it didn’t- that wasn’t supposed to happen,” tony defends weakly, a lazy shrug pulling at his shoulders. your eyes flash with velvet red, and, without moving a finger, tony’s pulled in front of you, wrapped in red swirls bucky can’t help but gawk at.

“fix it.” you order. tony nods, pursing his lips, “we’ll do that.” bruce looks a little taken aback, looking up from tony’s scribbles and equations. “i don’t think it’ll last more than a day,” he offers helpfully, “whatever it was tony was trying to do wasn’t either.”

bucky’s eyes start to droop, which he assumes is an effect of the sleepless night he just had on his infant body, something that usually wouldn’t affect him in his one-hundred-and-six-year-old self. he hums when he realizes the irony, leaning his head against the welcoming crook of your neck and catching your attention. you turn to him for a moment, softening a little before turning back to tony and glaring at him, “fix it.”

-

steve catches you when you walk out of the lab, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he spots the toddler in your arms, “holy shit, that looks exactly like bucky,” he breathes, scanning the dark mussed-up hair and stepping back when bucky opens his eyes. from next to him, sam looks from bucky to you, “did you two have a kid and not tell anyone, because this-”

“is bucky. that’s bucky.” you interrupt, looking at the toddler, “tony messed up with something and… this happened, i don’t completely… bucky’s a baby.”

steve raises an eyebrow, squinting at his best friend, “ha,” he laughs, “wow, he looks exactly like his pictures. he must be about three years old.” bucky blinks at him. “his ma said he was chatting up a storm at that age, though,” steve informs, looking back up at you. sam grins, “has he said anything? i kinda want to hear if he still sounds old.” bucky frowns at him, his pout deepening when sam bursts into laughter, “his grumpy face is the same!”

you look at your boyfriend, tilting your head and smiling a little when you realize he’s right, “you’re cute,” you coo now that you get a good look at him, “you’re so cute,” you murmur, poking his nose with your finger. bucky can’t help the blush that comes to his cheeks. but he slaps away sam’s fingers, scowling at him, “no.” he argues, “no.”

sam frowns, “no old man voice.”

“i hate you,” bucky says to sam, and you laugh, “i think we should leave for now. i need to figure out what will make three-year-old bucky not as grumpy.” sam looks at bucky’s furrowed brows and the same two little lines between them, his eyes flickering back up to yours, “i think that may just be a bucky thing.”

-

you bring bucky to the living room, sitting him down at the edge of the couch and crouching in front of him, watching him and his little crossed arms, bottom lip jutted out against his own will. bucky isn’t used to the emotional control of a child who’s three and can’t control the frustration that’s coursing through him at the moment. the only thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want you to leave him again.

“bucky?” you start, looking deep into the wide blue eyes that let you know it is bucky you’re speaking to. “what do you want to do? are you hungry? d’you want to sleep?” bucky shakes his head stubbornly at you, “i want tony to fix this.”

you sigh, “i know, baby. i do too, but until he finds a cure to this, you’re gonna stay small for a couple more hours.” he pouts at that, and you smooth your thumb over his cheek, “no pouting. we can do whatever you want, buck.”

just as he’s about to reject any idea you have, his stomach rumbles loudly, directing your attention to the arms that guiltily cover up his middle. “bucky... did you eat breakfast today?” you query, a lecturing tone sneaking into your words. “sam ate my cereal,” bucky grumbles, crossing his arms.

“bucky!” you exclaim, standing up to turn to the kitchen, “that’s no excuse. i told you you needed to eat--” you’re barely three steps into the kitchen when you hear the pattering of his feet towards you, grubby hands pawing at your legs.

“don’t leave,” he whines, hugging your ankles and sitting down on the floor, “you left all morning,” he mumbles, smushing his cheeks against your calf.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize, bending over to brush away the hair that falls over his eyes. “c’mere,” you murmur, reaching down to pick him up again and bounce him on your hip while you head to the kitchen. “what do you want to eat?” bucky thinks about it for a minute, before smiling, “i want pizza and ice cream.” you frown at him, “i don’t think three-year-olds can eat that. actually, i don’t think anyone should.”

after consulting google on what three-year-olds should eat, you have bucky’s head resting on your shoulder, refusing to let you put him down even as you made him the mac and cheese he had agreed to, still a little upset over the fact you wouldn’t let him eat all the other things he wanted. the only time he let you not carry him was when he was eating, still insisting you sit right next to him to watch as he smeared cheese all over tony’s expensive table.

“okay,” you whisper breathlessly after watching him eat his third bowl of the meal, “i think that’s good.” you shove the dirty dishes in the sink, washing bucky’s hands and wiping at him cheeks with a warm cloth to get the mess he managed to create off. “did you forget how to eat?” you wonder aloud when you finally fnish cleaning him up, watching his small shoulders shrug.

“what do you want to do now? anything you want,” you propose.

“i want you,” he says, reaching his stubby arms out, “cuddles. ‘m sleepy,” he yawns, making grabby hands at you when you take too long to pick him up. “bucky,” you chuckle, complying with him and bringing him into your chest, where he leans his head on your shoulder. “you sure you don’t want to play or something? you don’t want to…” you trail off, trying to think of what three-year-olds do, “walk or read or something?”

bucky grunts in your ear, his eyelids already closing again, “cuddles,” he repeats, balling your shirt up in his little hands.

“okay,” you sigh, bouncing him gently while you walk to your shared bedroom. you pick up a stuffed animal you brought for bucky from one of your most recent missions, “did you sleep last night? is that why you’re so tired?” bucky hums, cuddling further into your chest when you lay down with him on top of you. you hand him the little dog plush, pressing a kiss to his head when he takes the gift, hugging it with you. “honey, i’m sorry,” you frown, gently threading your fingers through his short hair, humming the same song bucky sings to you when you can’t get to sleep. it doesn’t take long to lull him into the calmness of rest.

you only wake up when the weight on you is suddenly multiplied, completely taking your breath away, “bucky!-” you exclaim, rolling from underneath him to meet his closed eyes. you shake your head with a light laugh, drawing a strand of hair behind his ear before you press your lips to his cheeks, snuggling in with him again, “sweet dreams, darling,” you murmur, placing the stuffed animal he dropped on your dresser.

[writer1queenjaysblog]

Part 2!

The next day as Bella woke up going into the kitchen hoping to beat her family to breakfast and go to work early.

As she ate her food and left she quietly and quickly left the house. She thought things would be easy until "Morning Bella!" Said Camilo she groaned "Hi Milo."

"So where are you headed?" "To work. " "I'll join you. " "No..no there's no need." "Yes there is mama said I had to watch you to keep you safe if not she'll flood the village like she did when you where 16."

Bella left the house and never told anyone thus having Pepa flood the village 😑.

The teenage boy influenced her to sneak away that's when all hell broke loose and she never snuck out again.

"Ok ok you can come." "Great also Tia Julieta packed some of her healing meals ."

Disappointed that she couldn't use her beautiful long hair she spoke "I was actually going to use my hair milo. " He looked at her with a stern look "No don't ever use your hair on anyone else in the village..ever!"

"Ok ok jeez I'm just kidding Camilo! " She wasn't but she knew that was better then arguing with Camilo and the others.

"Ok good girl. " He pet her head as they went to work.

Lunch time

Bella walked to the stairs hoping not to see her family until Agustin saw her "Mija how was your day?" "Oh great papa." He looked at her hair as if he was examining it like he always does.

"I didn't use it papa." "She didn't use it tio." Said Camilo "Good must make sure that you are safe." He hugged her tight before walking into the kitchen.

"Antonio your shift! " Said Camilo as he went to shower as his brother walked down the stairs smiling "So..what do you want to do?"

"Nothing but rest." He shook his head as he took her to his room with his pet cheeta "Long day huh?" "Yup. " "Camilo watched you again huh?" "Yes and yes boy this family is a piece of work!" She said stuffing her face in a pillow.

"Look at this way everyone here loves you. "

"Yes I know tonio I know maybe that's the problem they love me too much."

"Lunch is ready guys!" Said mirabel

As everyone ate Bella wondered how would it be if she healed someone with her hair? Again like she use to? "Uh..we did well with the food today mama." "Oh great job mija and Camilo told me all about it I'm so proud of you! "

Oh how she wished she could be like other girls in the village..free.

Dolores saw She wasn't eating her favorite food. "Sis are you ok? You haven't touched your favorite food?" Everyone turned to see that she hasn't taken the first bite which worried them especially Julieta she got up to check her fevor.

"Oh dear are you sick?" "No mom I'm fine." "Are you sure?" "...well no actually. " Isabella got up "Who's Messing with you again I'll finish them!" "What no?! It's no one It's just that I wonder why I don't use my gift? "

"You did use your gift today you painted that beautiful picture on the wall near the river, a couple of houses-" "No Camilo I'm talking about my hair!"

She said frustrated everyone looked at her then at Mirabel "Bella you know what abuela said about using your hair-" she said calm but Bella as had enough

"No! No I don't know Mira why don't you tell me?!" "Bella-!" "No Julieta this is crazy!"

"Bella!" "Bella do not speak to your mother that way!" Said Agustin as she got up from the table "I don't know what crazy secrets your hiding but I'm so done I'm leaving!"

"No you can't! " Said Pepa thundering in fear "Why?! I'm old enough to take care of myself now! "

The cracks in the wall showed up as she walked up the stairs as Bruno was getting scared "No no no mija you..you must stay here!"

"Why tio Bruno? " "because you have to..you- before he could say anything Pepa covered his mouth "shush mama said to not speak about this and we keep our word." She whispered to her brother "I'm leaving. " I'm sorry you can't escape us my dear. " Camilo charged at her pinning her to the ground "Hold still sis."

Julieta pulled out a needle "What is that?!"

She scramed "Something that'll help you forget this..f o r e v e r." She said sticking her in her arm "Soon everything will be the way it should be."

Cliffhanger!

[bifilthatonthatseson]

Jiang Cheng timeloop AU

Wen Qing had told him which needles to remove to allow Wei Wuxian to speak, but not to move. He had wondered then if she had lied to him. He slid one from the right side of his brother’s neck.

“Jiang Cheng!” His heart lurched. When had he last heard his own name? “Jiang Cheng, you have to let me go. The Jin will kill them. I have to stop it.”

His too-fast heart swooped and sank like a stone. He spoke through lips that felt increasingly numb. “That’s all you have to say to me?”

“What? Jiang Cheng, we don’t have time.” The desperation in Wei Wuxian’s voice cut like knives. “Jin Guangshan might be executing them already. Take the needles out and let me go!”

“They’re fine.” It wasn’t true, of course, except in the sense that nothing mattered anymore and they would be fine again in the morning, once Jiang Cheng woke up. The numbness was spreading now, from his lips to the rest of his face, traveling down his throat and into his lungs. He didn’t know why he’d expected anything different. He thought he was used to how much it hurt, to see how much Wei Wuxian cared for his new family when he’d left his old one behind.

“You don’t understand! Wen Qing said she was going to turn herself in -”

“I’ve been cursed,” Jiang Cheng interrupted him. The non sequitur stunned Wei Wuxian for just long enough that Jiang Cheng could continue. “I’ve lived this day before. I’ll live it again tomorrow. Whatever Jin Guangshan does to your Wen today, it will be undone tomorrow.”

Wei Wuxian was staring at him now, mouth open in a truly unattractive manner. “I’ve already worked out how to keep them from being executed,” he added. “I tested it and it works. I couldn’t do it today and still get here and talk to you, but it won’t matter.”

“Jiang Cheng - what are you saying? You can’t - that’s impossible.” 

The laughter welled up in him before he could stop it, bitter and sharp. “Isn’t that supposed to be what we attempt?” He clenched his teeth, his throat working convulsively as he tried to control the laughter. “The gods just decided I needed more help.”

Wei Wuxian was still staring. Jiang Cheng found he didn’t want to look at him. He hadn’t seen his brother look so focused, so present, in a very long time. He had forgotten what it felt like to be the recipient of his brother’s most intense gaze, like he was a puzzle Wei Wuxian needed to figure out.

“Just so you know, I’m still not entirely sure this is real.” He fixed his gaze just beyond Wei Wuxian’s left ear. “At first I thought I was in hell. It still might be true. There doesn’t seem to be any way out. I came to talk to you in case you could think of one. But if this is hell, then you won’t be able to.” 

“What did I say last time you asked me?” He got it right away, then. Jiang Cheng couldn’t bring himself to feel surprised.

“I haven’t come here before.” Wei Wuxian actually looked offended at that, and then hurt - as if he had any right to be hurt over Jiang Cheng not being somewhere! - and in the face of that hurt Jiang Cheng found himself explaining, “all the other times, you died before I could.” 

“What,” Wei Wuxian breathed, “the fuck.”

“But not until after a-Jie did,” Jiang Cheng said. There was something wrong with his breathing. His voice didn’t sound right in his ears. His vision was going funny, too - blurry, with little auras of light. 

“Shijie?” Wei Wuxian said, sounding absolutely gutted, and then, “Shidi. Don’t cry, let me-”

Jiang Cheng fumbled with the needles, pulling them out with less grace than was probably called for, but it wasn’t his fault because he still couldn’t see properly. As soon as one of Wei Wuxian’s arms was mobile, he took the rest of the needles out himself. He hesitated, just for a moment, before opening his arms.

Jiang Cheng fell into them with a sound that he could no longer pretend wasn’t a sob. His breath came faster until it was a keening wail. Wei Wuxian patted his back, a little helplessly, but he didn’t let go. 

“She died,” he gasped. “So many times. I had to watch. Then you. I’ve tried everything I can think of. I can’t keep watching you die.”