#the first character’s i can’t remember much except the searching part of the house

[undertheopensky]

Become Like Stone 3

Whumptober Day 20: Found Family/Blanket

Characters: Legend, Four, everyone’s there but it’s Sky POV because he grabbed the reins at the start and refused to let go.

Trigger warnings: Aftermath of torture, look if you read the first one you probably know what to expect

Read on Ao3!

Late to the party? Read Part 1 and Part 2 first!

THIS IS A DOUBLE UPDATE! MAKE SURE YOU DIDN'T MISS PART 2!

-----

They were too late.

It’s the only thing in Sky’s mind, rattling around like a long-lasting echo, playing over and over again to the sound of Legend’s sobs.

They were too late.

Four is dead.

It doesn’t feel real.

Four doesn’t even look like himself. Bruises, cuts, and terrible burns warp his skin head to toe. Underfoot, sticky blood coats the stone in irregular, violent patterns, mirroring the violence painting Four’s skin. It clings to Legend’s hands and skin the way he clings to Four’s body, rocking back and forth and weeping inconsolably.

Four is pale, and still, and dead.

They were too late.

Legend cries out, high and frightened, and flinches away when Hyrule reaches out. He’s trying to - shield Four, Sky realises dimly, trying to curl over him to protect him.

“Shh,” Hyrule croons, “I’m not gonna hurt him. I’m not gonna take him from you. Can I see?”

Legend moans a denial.

“Please, Ledge, you’re bleeding. Let me see your hands.”

There’s nothing Sky can do here. He can’t save Four, beyond all mortal help. He can’t comfort Legend, shattered after watching his brother die a tortured death. He can’t even help Hyrule except by passing him potions and bandages, and that’s a task better left to Warriors.

The inactivity makes his skin crawl. He can’t just - stand and watch. Catching Warriors’ eye to let him know, he turns and walks out, trying not to feel like he’s abandoning them.

We need to clear this area, Sky tells himself. We haven’t found their packs yet, and we don’t know if there’s monsters around. Now would be a great time to ambush them, distracted and grieving as they are. Sky can preempt any such attacks. It’s good. It’s useful.

The next cell over has two bodies in it - both dead, when Sky checks. More victims, he thinks distantly, staring blankly at their corpses.

It takes a moment to realise why the thought doesn’t fit.

They’re both clean, for one thing - not dirty, not bloody, sporting no injuries but the wounds that must have killed them: the man a blow to the head, the woman a crushed windpipe. They’re also fully dressed, in neat, well-fitted, high-quality garments, where Four and Legend had been stripped to their unders.

They’re not victims. They’re the ones - the ones who -

Legend must have killed them, he thinks, and can’t summon more than a vague sense of good riddance.

There’s nothing in the cell of worth, so Sky turns away to check the ones across the hall - empty, and have been for some time. There’s really not much down here.

From above, the dungeon door groans as it opens, and Sky abruptly remembers the other teams searching the house for signs of Four and Legend, and runs to intercept.

He’s too slow. Twilight is already bodily carrying the sobbing Wind from the cell when he gets there. Sky grimaces in apology.

“Aught else down here?” Twilight asks, low voiced.

Sky shakes his head. “Empty cells. And -” he remembers, and his face goes blank. “I think. Their captors. In the second cell.”

Twilight startles, glancing past him with wide eyes and reaching for a weapon with the hand not holding Wind up. “No, it’s - they’re dead. Already. I think Legend killed them.”

The strange face Twilight pulls is probably a mirror of the one Sky made.

Wind looks up from where he’d been crying into Twilight’s tunic, eyes still wet. “I d-don’t - I don’t understa-and - why would they - why -” His voice breaks. Twilight hugs him a little closer as Wind buries his face back into his side, muffling his sobs.

Sky has no answers for him. The only one who might is Legend - and he’s in no condition for questions right now.

From the open cell, quiet voices stir the air, keeping the hush of the dungeons from becoming eerie. Sky can’t stop himself from glancing over.

Still clinging to Four’s body, Legend has at least let Hyrule get close enough to remove the manacles. He’s also begging him, in a broken whisper, not to touch Four, not to hurt him, to just leave him alone and hurt Legend instead, please don’t hurt him anymore, while Hyrule patiently soothes him and the raw skin of his wrists.

Sky must make some small noise, because Hyrule looks up. “Sky, good. I need you to come hold Legend. He’s not going to like this and I really need him to not interrupt.”

Wars grimaces. “Goddesses, Hyrule. Hasn’t he been through enough?”

“He’ll thank me for it later. Four’s still alive.”

“What?” Sky blurts, eyes wide.

Four is deathly pale under the blood and burns. Motionless, and loose with it, in a way even unconsciousness can’t mimic.

But Hyrule is sure. “He’s not dead, he’s in some kind of magical stasis - I’ve seen it before and I can break it, but we need to be ready to heal him after. Wars, get over here. Sky, hold Legend.”

Legend is too caught up in his own world to see him coming. When Sky grabs him he screams in a voice worn away to almost nothing and thrashes blindly, desperate to get back to Four. “Shhh,” Sky tries, “it’s okay, you’re okay, it’s just me, you’re okay -”

Legend can’t hear him, or if he can, he doesn’t care.

Hyrule’s ignoring the commotion. Having dragged Four away from Legend, he’s laid him out on the stone and now runs careful hands down his body - pausing over the pulse points of his wrists, the thinnest part of his ankles, the soft skin of his temples, before coming to hover over his still and silent heart.

Under his bracer, where no one can see it, the Triforce glows.

“Four? It’s time to come home.”

There’s a stretching, breathless moment where nothing happens. Then Four takes in a long, deep breath, and loses it all again on a whine as it catches on a broken rib. He coughs, and chokes on blood, and Hyrule’s green-limned hands slam into place on his chest. “Potion, now!” he barks, all business.

Wind is screaming out in the hall; Legend is wailing in Sky’s arms, a horrible, broken wisp of a noise that’s hope and despair and pleading all wound together. Sky himself is riding a wave of disbelief. Four’s alive. Hyrule had dragged him back from the brink, where magic had frozen him in a facsimile of death. Now Four is dying again - drowning in his own blood.

Potion in hand, Wars tries to sit Four up. Hyrule stops him. “Nope. Put it straight on the burns.”

Wars shakes himself - really he knows better, there’s no way Four can drink a potion in his condition - and starts pouring it over his skin where the worst of the burns lie stark and oozing. As the magic goes to work, glittering silver under a layer of dark pink, Warriors gets more bottles out of his bag, including one that’s only half-full. Back to back, most people can tolerate two potions at a time, but Four is much smaller than the average person. Warriors dunks a couple fingers in the half-full red potion, and starts smearing it on the cuts on Four’s face. Those are hard to look at - clean, straight, and deliberate. Some look so deep they might go all the way through to Four’s mouth.

Hyrule is fast reaching his limit. He has to pause, gasping and shaking sweat-soaked hair from his eyes, and gulps the green potion Wars hands him. Then he closes his eyes, swallowing and panting against nausea.

Four whines again, protesting the pain he’s still in.

“We’ve got you, Four,” Hyrule breathes, and dives back in.

Four’s injuries are too extensive to heal in a single sitting. Bruises still paint his skin blue and purple and livid red, and the deepest cuts on his legs and back refuse to close. But his breathing is clear now. Not wet and choking. Sky can see the steady rise and fall of his chest from where he’s still holding Legend, who’s - not fighting him anymore, instead just leaning quietly back against his chest. Sky doesn’t know when that happened. Doesn’t even know when his hand had started combing through Legend’s hair. As they sat, and watched Hyrule and Warriors put their brother back together.

Hyrule finally sits back, completely spent. “Do we have… a blanket or something? To wrap him in?”

There’s a rustle of movement as several people start digging through their packs. Sky hadn’t realised - everyone’s gathered around the doorway. Unable to help, but unable to look away. Having one small thing they could do -

Yeah. He gets that.

Four doesn’t stir as Warriors lifts him, Wild helping wrap potion-slick skin in the fabric he pulled from his Slate. It’s unwieldy, but they manage. With Four bundled up, comfortably positioned in Warriors’ arms and head pillowed on his scarf, he almost looks like he’s just sleeping.

Sky’s heart wrenches and tries to fall through the floor.

He’s not dead, he tells himself, Hyrule healed him - he’s okay. He’s going to be okay.

Then he realises - Four’s eyes are open.

He’s not the only one. Wind yells with delight and charges forward. “Four! Ohmygosh, I was so worried!” He grabs Four’s hand, laying on top of the blankets, and beams at him, full force. “I’m really glad you’re okay!”

Four stares at him for a long moment, blank.

Wind’s face starts to fall.

Then, slowly, Four smiles, and his fingers weakly curl.

Twilight takes the opportunity to grab Wind by the shoulders and spin him around. “C’mon, Wind. Let’s get out of here. All of us.”

“I hear that,” says Warriors, following at a careful pace.

Legend jolts, tension running through him, and scrabbles to stand. Sky helps him up, murmuring “Shh, it’s okay, we’re following him, he’s not leaving you. Easy, now.”

Legend looks at him, and for the first time, recognition lights his face.

“Sky?” he rasps.

“Yeah, Ledge. It’s me. It’s us. You’re safe now.”

Legend sways on his feet. He looks so young like this, wide-eyed and pale with tacky blood all over his chest and arms and legs. “Sky?” he says again. “Four is… Four’s okay? I didn’t dream that?”

Sky’s heart breaks just a little bit more. “Four is going to be fine, and so are you,” he tells him, firm as he can make it.

Legend takes a staggering step and nearly falls. Sky catches him. “Four’s okay?” he says again.

“Four’s okay. Here, Twi, gimme a hand, I don’t think he can walk.”

“M fine,” Legend says, still staring blankly down the hall where Warriors is taking the steps as smoothly as he can so as not to jostle Four. He doesn’t notice when Twilight crouches in front of him, offering his back. He does notice Sky steering him to wind his arms around Twilight’s neck. “Wha - hey!” He flails a bit, but he’s got no strength; his limbs are as weak and shaky as his voice. “‘M fine!”

“Ya sure are,” Twilight agrees cheerfully, and carries him off to mumbled protests.

Sky follows them out, but not without taking a last, lingering glance. He hopes, faintly, that one of the upstairs teams had found their brothers’ bags. At this point, all he wants is to get out of here, and never come back.

#whumptober 2023 #linked universe #lu four #lu legend #lu sky #lu fic #skies writes #my week continues to be top-tier bullshit

[jupitermelichios]

So I’ve been playing a lot of skyrim lately, because it’s video game comfort food, and I decided it was time for my Redguard Dovahkiin to settle down. (Actually I specifically just wanted to be able to adopt some of the random orphans you meet because I felt guilty about them, but you need to be married before you can do that so that there’s someone at home to take care of the kids while you’re off galivanting).

So I travelled around a bit, chatting up likely looking npcs until I found one I both liked and didn’t feel guilty about marrying (I feel bad if I marry one of the warrior adventurer types, making them be a stay at home mum) and settled on an obnoxiously cheerful argonian called Shavee because her life was frankly shit, and I thought she’d probably be good with kids.

So off I go to Riften to the Temple of Mara to arrange the wedding. I book it in for the next day, realise I didn’t bring anything nice to wear, and spend the night before the wedding robbing every house in the city in the search for something to wear. Eventually decide everyone in Riften has terrible fashion sense and break down everything I stole into raw materials and use them to craft myself an outfit and some jewellery that i’m pretty happy with. I even carefully pick out my fanciest looking sword to wear.

(don’t know why I bothered, frankly, shavee turned up wearing a shirt covered in suspicious stains and weilding a pickaxe, it’s like she doesn’t even care about this marriage)

(also for comedy purposes, bear in mind I play with survival mods that mean my character needs to eat and sleep to live, and I literally spent the entire ingame night on this and forgot to eat and drink anything either and then just downed four bowls of wolf stew right before entering the temple so I didn’t starve during the ceremony. also I discovered during the wedding that I am dying of rockjoint, which I contracted from sleeping in a pile of hay on the floor of a skeever infested cave, so even being six foot tall and jacked can’t make up for the fact that I am exhausted, running a fever, and probably covered in wolf which I spilled because my joints are slowly atrophying, and even the fanciest clothes in the world aren’t going to cover that up)

so I enter the temple, and my finance is there, and Lydia my housecarl, and some random NPCs the game thinks are my friends because I did fetch quests for them

One of the random NPCs is Lisbet. Atfter I did her fetch quest, I then did another quest in which I discovered Lisbet is secretly a cannibal and part of a demonic cult that worships the daedric prince of decay by kidnapping priests, sacrificing them, and then eating their corpses. Raw. I think the raw meat is the sticking point for me here honestly.

I ultimately decided not to sacrifice the random priest to a daedric prince in exchange for one magic ring and all the raw human I could eat, because frankly, that doesn’t sound like much of a deal to me. I was expecting there to be some kind of dialogue choice where I could nope out at the last minute, but it turns out there isn’t one, so after they drugged the priest and tied him to the altar, I just got out my sword and started swinging.

I killed most of the cult (including the town butcher, because I had brought meat from him before and was extremely pissed off that he might have been secretly feeding me humans) but a couple of them got away, which I figured was fine because they weren’t trying to kill me.

Except it turns out, if any of them escape, then every time you see them in the future there’s a random chance that they’ll fly into a violent rage and try and murder you.

Lisbet is at my wedding. Lisbet decides that clearly me marrying this random argonian woman with two lines of dialogue is the happiest day of my life, and she cannot allow me that happiness, when I’ve taken so much from her.

So she tries to kill me. Only she can’t, because I’m stuck in a pre-rendered wedding animation, and also she’s sitting next to Lydia, my faithful retainer and owner of a really big axe.

It also turns out that Lisbet is essential, meaning she can be knocked unconcious but not actually killed because she’s needed for some quest or other. And the minute she wakes up from unconciousness, she tries to kill me again, so Lydia knocks her unconcious again, and I’m stuck, I can’t move, because I’m supposed to be in the wedding animation.

Except Shavee has, not unreasonably, see all this and decided that she doesn’t like me enough to risk getting murdered, and has done a runner, leaving me at the altar, but more importantly, leaving me trapped in a broken pre-rendered animation, so all I can do is stand there at the altar, staring at the space where my fiance was supposed to be, listening to the sounds of Lydia trying and failing to beat a cannibal to death behind me.

Okay, I think, clearly this wedding isn’t going to happen, I’m going to go for the registry office option and complete the wedding using the dev commands. I do this. The priest gives me a wedding ring, and I can finally move again. I chase after Shavee, who has an impressive turn of speed on her, and eventually catch up right by the city gates. I try to talk to her.

Apparently using the console has completed the wedding for me, but not for her, because she still only has the same 2 lines of dialogue she usually has.

Clearly this is working, I can’t leave my kids with someone who can only say 2 things and doesn’t even know she’s their mum, that’s irresponsible.

I try loading from inside the temple. I get the same problem.

Eventually I figure out that I need to use the dev controls to disable Lisbet’s entire existence in the universe.

Shavee and me get married. As the priest reads the vows, I stare at Shavee and wonder why she couldn’t even be bothered to put on a clean shirt. I wonder what kind of mother she’ll be.

Once the ceremony is over, and I’m happily married to the dirty green lizard of my dreams, and we’ve agreed that until I can make her recognise my extremely nice modded house exists I will share her single bed in the unheated flophouse in Windhelm she calls home, I re-enable Lisbet, because I’m worried I’ll forget if I leave it too long.

Fun fact about skyrim, it loads in quite a lot of npcs and objects by dropping them from the sky. I have no idea why this is the case, but it’s objectively the funniest way to load in objects.

I re-enable Lisbet. She falls from the sky, clips through the roof of the temple, and lands in the pew beside Lydia, stands up, draws a knife, and is immedately beaten unconcious.

I no longer care, because Shavee now has all the exciting new spouse-only romantic dialogue options like “Could you cook something for me” and “have you made any money lately”, and I know she’ll be a great mother.

I limp to the door of the temple, while around me the guests not involved in the Lydia-Lisbet murder cycle scream and duck for cover.

I open the door to the temple, immediately collapse and ragdoll down the steps, which is how I discover I am dying of rockjoint.

I limp to the orphanage down the street, adopt two kids, and then finally remember that I’m carrying garlic bread, which as we all know, cures all known illnesses.

When I emerge back into the street, full of the joys of motherhood and garlic bread, I find the town in disaray. Lydia is chasing Lisbet through the streets with an axe and a dragon is circling overhead, burning npcs to death. People are running for shelter, screaming, while the guards try to take down an entire dragon using only the worst bows and arrows in the game.

I decide that as a parent, I have to think of my own safety first and leave them to it.

I head out of the city, intent on returning home and figuring out why Shavee refuses to move in with me. A man hanging around the stables challenges me to a boxing match. For want of anything better to do, I agree.

Halfway through the fight he dodges at the wrong moment and I punch one of his horses in the head.

Two guards attack me while I desperately try to surrender. My kids will miss me, but I’m prepared to go to jail for my horse crimes, I’m an honest citizen. Also my horse crimes seem somewhat less important than the dragon.

The guards refuse to accept my surrender. I am stabbed to death. As I collapse in front of the indifferent horse, Lisbet exits the city, followed by Lydia. The last thing I see before I die is Lydia swinging her axe at Lisbet’s face.

#skyrim #spoilers #technically #although this game is a decade old and we all own at least two versions of it at this point #so i'm not sure it counts #long post

[duskamethyst]

mistakes.

a/n: totally for self indulgence... don’t know how is this gonna do though since i’m not sure if a lot of people has caught up with the manga but i’m pretty sure the fandom has seen him at least once and instantly thirst for him. so, idk what colour his eyes are (i can see blue but fanwiki says green so i stuck with that and in between). this comes with a package of me pointing out how big and buff he is and idc if you’ll get annoyed over it.

word count: 6.1k

genre: AU, nsfw, smut, angst if you squint

warnings: DARK – NONCON, coercion, corruption kink, daddy kink, size kink, choking, mind break, breeding, face fucking, slight dacryphilia, spitting, age gap, degradation, virgin reader, dilf toji manhandling reader

pairing: toji x f!reader

languages available: vietnamese.

summary: you want to surprise your bestie, megumi upon his arrival home from college but things take a terrible turn.

one.

heavy rain starts pouring as soon as you’ve reached the front doorstep of the fushiguro’s household. it was a dumb idea to not bring an umbrella with you despite the sky already starting to get dark when you left home earlier, but you were willing to push your luck and started sprinting once you felt prickles of droplets landing on your skin. with a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the heavy downpour from soaking your clothes.

drawing a deep and relieved sigh, you take a moment to regain control over your breathing before knocking the big front door. aware of the aftermath of the run, you fix your hair with your hands as you wait for megumi to come and greet you. 

college made you and the male to part ways until phones were the only thing that kept you both up to date with each other’s lives. ironically enough, that’s the thing you forgot to bring when you left home in a rush and excitement to surprise your dear friend since he’s coming home today. you can vividly remember the last text you read; he was at the train station and you had to estimate the time of his arrival and the time he would be at home instead of asking him.

however, you’re caught slightly off guard when a different man opens the door for you instead. nonetheless, your lips curl to a sweet smile and there’s a brief of awkward silence before he speaks. you know him, but he doesn’t seem to remember you at all.

“you’re..?” with a tilt of his head, he looks down at you with a curious brow. 

“it’s me, mr. fushiguro!” you offer your name, scrutinizing the expression on his face as his forehead crinkles while he jogs through his memories. then he glances at you and away in thought and back at you again with wide eyes when he finally recalls.

“oh, it’s you!” he ruffles your hair, a bit too enthusiastic in spite of his usual character that you were always familiar with. “i haven’t seen you in a while.”

you let out a little laugh, “yeah. i think i was fourteen the last time i saw you, mr. fushiguro. but it’s nice to see you again.”

“ah, yes. i had to go out of town and overseas for business a lot.” toji explains, rubbing the back of his neck, slightly bashful that he didn’t recognize the girl– no, woman before him even when you both have met plenty of times back when you often came to play with his son since you both were still little. 

but can anyone blame him? time works wonders and now the little girl he used to know has grown to be much more mature and gorgeous and so... demure.

“yeah, megumi told me. speaking of him, is he home?” you finally inquire, bringing up the reason why you’re here in the first place. 

two.

“why don’t you come in first? it’s cold outside.” he says before immediately turning around without answering your question. you close the door behind you and follow him closely, also somewhat intimidated when you realize how tall and huge he is– the tight fitting shirt stretches over his wide back and accentuating his physique even more. his arms are toned and popping with veins, not the way you used to remember at least, but you’ve never cared to notice. you’re not certain of his age either, but you’re pretty sure you’d be surprised if you find out.

“do you want coffee or tea?” toji suddenly breaks the silence as you nervously stand in the middle of the room to take a glimpse around the kitchen like it’s your first time being there, completely heedless over his gaze lingering up and down your curves, observing the figure of a girl who just freshly went through her womanhood and your lascivious beauty before he quickly turns around to grab two mugs from the cabinet. 

“anything is fine.” you politely reply, fear of sounding somewhat demanding if you choose your preference despite being offered with choices. 

“come on, you’re giving a man a hard time.” he jokes. “and sit down.”

he’s trying to extend his invitation though intentionally sounding assertive, but when he sees that you are quick to comply and scramble to your seat, he finds it to be... stimulating. at least he knows that you’re docile and he wonders if he could put it to the test. well, doesn’t matter. he will.

“coffee is good.” you smile, interrupting his train of thoughts and he pours the coffee from the pot before walking over to hand you your mug. 

“unfortunately,” he sits down on the chair next to you. “megumi isn’t home right now.” toji puts his lips between the warm mug and softly blows before sipping his coffee. “he wanted to take a short trip to the store but i think he’s going to be stuck there for a while.” he looks out the window to only see pitch black staring back at him along with roaring thunder from the skies.

“oh.” you mutter, taking a careful sip of the hot brew. a little disappointed that you couldn’t see megumi yet, but his dad is right– it’s nearly a disaster outside but you find no point hanging around any longer either.

“is it too bitter? you don’t like it?” his voice laces with concern when he notices your face involuntarily scrunches up at the bitter taste. 

you quickly shake your head, “no, no. it’s fine!” you reassure, afraid that he’ll take offense from the coffee he personally made. “besides, if megumi isn’t here, i–”

three.

“oh, it’s fine if you wait here for him.” he cuts you off. “unfortunately, we don’t have an extra umbrella.” the corners of his lips tug into a comforting smile and you are quick to relax into it. 

you’ve always found toji to be quite frightening when you were young. he seemed like someone who never smiled, always had a sombre and intense vibe to him that no child would be too fond of.  there was no exchange of words between you two, except for your constant brief hello and a smile that you did out of courtesy whenever you bump into him inside his house, even though he never replied anything back. not even a crack on the lips to return the smile. 

but today is different. probably because he finds it easier for him to talk to an adult than a child and you’re relieved that you’re able to humor him in some way.

“so, are you and megumi a thing?” he abruptly asks and glances at you as he sips his coffee.

“no, we’re not!” you titter, waving a hand in dismissal as you bring up the mug to hide your face from embarrassment.

“oh?” a glint of amusement and surprise shines in his green eyes. “are you sure?”

you blink at the question as heat warms your cheeks from the thought of dating your best friend. “yes, megumi and i are just friends. really.” 

“why? because you have a boyfriend?” toji pries, uncaring if he sounds intrusive to you and you only assume that he’s trying to strike up a conversation in some old fashioned way.

you just shake your head and laugh, “it’s not that, either.” 

“hmm,” he props his elbow on the table leisurely, head resting on his fist as he looks at you intently, as if in search of something. “you’re pretty hard to figure out.” 

“what do you mean? i don’t think so.” you smile, bringing up the mug to cover your face again so you can shy away from his intense gaze yet he thinks that it’s endearing and he finds himself grinning unwillingly. 

toji notices how you always try to look away when you get so shy over some simple questions. you’re just oozing with purity and innocence of a maiden and something dark and twisted inside him is craving to violate every part of it. 

“for a start, i can’t figure out why you don’t have one.” he says, tapping his fingertips on the table as his mind is running with sinful thoughts. 

“hmm, maybe because i haven’t found anyone interesting yet.” you finally lock your eyes with his as you answer, not wanting to come off as rude if you keep on talking without looking directly at the man.

“isn’t my son good for you?” he couldn’t care less to be honest; he only plans to test the waters and is even more aroused to learn that you’ve never been touched by a man before and he feels like a wolf that’s just ready to pounce on a lost, little lamb.

“oh, no, no!” why do you have to get so bashful? he’ll fuck you on this table if you don’t stop. “we just don’t see each other that way.”

he’s so lost in his thoughts and carnal desires that whatever you’re babbling seems to go in one ear and out the other.

“then, what do you think of me?” he asks nonchalantly with a smirk plastered across his face.

you blink at him once, twice. “uhh, what?” is he suddenly getting self-conscious? 

“you heard me. what do you think of me?” yet he doesn’t seem like it either.

“umm,” you ponder for a moment as you think of every adjective you can find in your head that wouldn’t come out offensive if you’re going to be honest with him. why would he even ask you such a thing anyways? and why would it matter to him? there’s nothing nice about him that you could exactly pinpoint from the past except for ‘scary’, ‘serious’ and some other things revolving around those.

“i thought that you were kinda... scary?” you blurt unsurely, mentally slapping yourself for even daring to say such a thing to him. unless it’s a vibe that he was going for, then you’d be relieved. 

it isn’t exactly what toji wants to hear but he laughs heartily, “really?” a shiver runs down your spine when he looks at you again, his eyes glimmering with daunt. “but are you still scared of me?”

“uh, no.” you laugh. “you’re actually really nice, mr. fushiguro.” 

“oh, that makes me feel better.” another grin etches on his scarred lips as he draws his gaze to your hands that are tensing and fiddling with your sleeves and your leg is bouncing; a perfect depiction of a trembling lamb cornered in his den– and he’s fucking starving. 

has he got you on edge? are you nervous? good. “but i think you should.”

a lump catches in your throat and your heart drops, “i- what?”

the chair emits a screeching sound and it stumbles backwards as toji abruptly stands up from his seat. sheer panic causes you to rise on your feet too, and your eyes dart to the chair, and the male, back and forth as your mind tries to get a grasp on the situation.

“mr. fushiguro..?” you whisper meekly, taking a step away and around the table as you notice him taking a careful yet threatening inch closer. 

“no, no. i’m not gonna hurt you.” toji (barely) reassures you as he continues creeping on his feet. but the sinister smile on his lips takes out every last bit of faith you had in him and the loud voice in your head keeps telling you to run for the door and never look back– fuck the rain.

 as if he can read through your thoughts, he warns. “but i will, if you run.” 

the smile on toji’s face turns smug when he sees you freeze in place upon his threat. being trapped under the unpleasant situation triggers your fight or flight responses and rapid heartbeat drums in your ears as you stand in trance and trepidation.

“that’s a good girl.” he coos, taking another step forward before you decide to throw a mug at him and dash towards the door as fast as you can. you assume that toji has pushed the table to the floor when you hear a loud thud, followed by his hasty footsteps as he catches up quickly behind you. 

the door that is finally within arm’s reach suddenly changes into a mirage when a strong pair of arms grabs you by the waist and your body floats as it lifts onto his shoulder. the huge contrast between the size of your body and his should let you know; no matter how much you try to resist, he will never budge. yet, your arms and legs still flail around in an attempt to punch and kick him and you’re screaming for him to let you down and just hope that anyone is able to hear your cries in spite of the thunderstorm. 

well, so much for luck.

“ah, ah. you don’t wanna do that.” there’s a mocking and amusing tone in his voice as he advises you. “you should save that energy later. juuust in a bit.” 

“mr. fushiguro– stop–!” you sob, watching your only escape slowly disappears out of sight when he turns to a corner and into a dark room. your body bounces onto a mattress before toji’s huge, ripped figure swiftly looms above yours and ties your hands together with a belt and onto the headboard. at this point, the illuminating lights through the windows are the only thing that aids your vision and you have to rely more on your senses.

“shh,” he shushes you with a finger against your trembling lips. “the neighbors will hear. and if they do, i want it to be because you’re getting fucked so good. so be a good little girl for daddy, okay?”

regardless of being terrified, you find yourself cringing over the nickname he refers to himself. hopefully, he won’t ask you to call him that either. “mr. fushiguro– i– please don’t do this. i- i won’t tell anyone.” 

toji tsks, taking his sweet time to admire your smaller body underneath his– the exposed, soft skin on your neck waiting to be bruised, chest heaving as your breath comes deep and short, and legs pressing together to secure your modesty; though will prove to be futile later. 

“i know you won’t.” his thumb grazes against your lips, mesmerized by its plushness as he imagines it wrapped prettily around his throbbing cock. “are you a virgin?”

you only nod your head, eyes wavering as you look at his darker ones before catching it shine with interest. 

“never had anything inside here?” he asks again, pressing your cunt against the fabric of your pants with his fingers. the dark room makes it hard to see, but your cheeks are turning red from humiliation and you look away before shaking your head no.

“are you sure?” toji’s thumb presses down on your clit and causes your body to shudder apprehensively.

“o-only my finger.” you audibly whisper through the white noise outside. 

oh, how exhilarating. guess the innocent looking ones can be lewd too. don’t you know that a cock would make you feel better? a big cock like his is definitely what you need. just a finger wouldn’t be enough to satisfy you! poor little thing. 

“then i got to teach you a few things, right? it’ll come handy later. boys love girls with experiences.” he promptly strips you off from your pants before carelessly throws it to the ground and kneels between your legs to keep you wide and open for him.

“you like to be touched here?” his finger reaches down to ghost over your clothed clit, observing you with lust filled eyes while you turn away from his gaze and remain unresponsive. “daddy is a very impatient person so i suggest you answer me.”

toji pinches your clit, and your body squirms with an elicited yelp. you can only guess (and hope) that he wasn’t referring to him touching you there but you answer anyway, “y-yes.”

he hums in satisfaction, moving down until his head stops between your thighs and in front of your sex. toji grabs your thigh and spreads them apart before flattening his warm tongue against your clothed bud, causing a shiver to run down your spine and it quickly draws your attention to him.

your face heats up in embarrassment when you see toji’s head dipped in front of your pussy, but he’s only calm and teasing as his jade eyes stare up to lock with yours to look for a reaction.

“you’ve never felt a tongue over here either, hm?” he sneers, rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb and you mentally curse yourself for feeling slightly aroused over his ministrations. 

“just let me go, please.” you try to close your legs, but to no avail when his rough hands push them away.

“you know, if you keep asking for ridiculous things,” toji tuts and grasps your supple thighs hard, nails digging painfully on your skin. “i might have to get rough on you. but you’re a smart girl and you wouldn’t like that, right?” 

“n-no.” you choke and fidget.

“good. because i only want you to feel good.” he offers a gentle smile and kisses the dented mark on your thigh. “so, let’s start over. you haven’t answered me.”

you nibble your lip hesitantly and look anywhere but him, “no.”

“see? all the more reason for me to show you what you’ve been missing out.” he chuckles, tugging your underwear to the side impatiently.

“fuck. such a pretty pussy.” he growls at the sight of your bare cunt. there isn’t a lot of slick yet, but it’s fine, he’ll make you get there. that’s the point of this whole ordeal, right?

your body quivers naturally once you feel the foreign sensation; wet, warm muscle prodding your puffy folds up to your clit and circling on it with the tip of his tongue teasingly as he observes you from below. 

your eyes are screwed shut and your lips are caught between your teeth as you try to restrict your whines from the undeniable pleasure rushing in your veins and he doesn’t stop– your pathetic attempt to deny him and your sentiments only drives him to push you over the edge even more. 

with a harsh suck on your clit, he manages to get you to squeal and you can feel him smirking underneath you. toji flattens his tongue and laps off your juices again before he takes you by surprise when he suddenly slides a finger inside your tight, wet cunt. 

“shh. it’ll feel good, baby girl.” he comforts when he hears you whimper at the pain inflicted and true enough, it soon begins to feel good. you’ve fingered yourself plenty of times before, but it feels different when he does it for you– his finger is thick and long that it reaches deeper than you’ve ever been able to.

toji notices you start to become quiet so he slides in another digit, eliciting yet another sob from you. the warm and moist cunny makes his cock twitch and he finds himself getting eager. your back arches from the bed when toji curls his fingers to stroke the bumpy tissues of your g-spot with every drag.

“feels good, yeah?” he grins arrogantly as your legs tremble under his hold. your breathing has turned erratic and your toes are curling as your mouth gapes in pitiful, broken cries that are just music to his ears. 

“answer me, sweetheart.” he presses down a thumb on your neglected clit, reminding you that he is not keen on being ignored and disputed. 

“y-yes.” you finally choke through pants and shame. though the answer comes out in hesitance, your body is more honest– pussy sopping and eliciting obscene squelches and it’s enough to satisfy him for now. 

your head thrashes side to side as you feel yourself about to tip over but you still refuse to beg toji for a release. 

“hah– fuck!” you whimper loudly when toji oh-so-generously sucks your clit again, fingers pumping faster inside your cunt, making your body feel even more tense with overbearing stimulation before finally pushing you over the edge and you break into a silent scream.

toji laps off your slick before he pulls out his finger into his mouth and licks them clean. 

“that’s a good girl. why don’t you taste yourself?” he climbs on top of you while you gasp for air from the intense orgasm and he easily pulls you into a fervour, sloppy kiss. you can feel the wet slick on his chin and you can taste yourself at the same time as he intertwines his tongue with yours. 

four.

out of spite and vexation, you found courage to bite his tongue hard and toji instantly pushes himself from you, his dark eyes express astonishment and agitation.

“fucking bitch.” he curses as his eyes narrow at you displeasingly before he takes off his pants and briefs to release his cock from its confinements. his cock is throbbing and thick, and you can almost see a trickle of precum on its head. you crumple at the sight as regret and anxiety washes over you.

“don’t worry, it’ll fit.” he says cockily upon the worrisome look on your face. “but since you like it rough, i’m sure you want to choke on it first.” 

“no– i’m sorry!” you shake your head but toji only lets out a scornful laugh as he disregards your pleas and props himself on the knees and over your neck.

toji slaps the tip of his cock on your lips, gesturing you to open your mouth but you purse them into a flat, thin line and refuse to obey. 

“open up. it’s a part of your lesson after all.” he snaps before squeezing your cheeks together. “it’ll get worse if you don’t listen to me.” 

“d-don’t wa-ant to– flea-shh.” you whimper and toji emits a long, deep sigh as he releases his grip. 

“i don’t like repeating myself.” his voice is laced with malice and chills crawls up your spine as his eyes look down at you demeaningly before you slowly open your mouth trepidatiously and wait for his next order. 

“no teeth. i think you’d know that much.” he patronizes before sliding his cock inside your mouth and he hisses as the warmth engulfs his throbbing cock. “that’s it. now, suck.”

and you have no choice but to obey submissively. you slightly lift your head and struggle to take his length as much as you can before running your tongue around to feel each prominent vein.

“i said suck, whore.” he commands through gritted teeth. you hollow your cheeks, compressing his fat cock tight between them as you bop your head up and down. 

“fuuuck, just like that.” toji groans as his hand reaches the top of your head and caresses you softly. you start to pick up the pace, slobbering his dick with so much saliva that it begins to seep from the corners of your mouth and it’s so wet and obscene– just the way he likes it. 

“it almost makes me think that this isn’t your first time.” his head falls back and hips begin to jerk until the tip hits the back of your throat, forcing you to take more than you could. you choke as tears start to well up in your eyes and the bedhead shakes when you try to tug your wrists. 

“what’s wrong? can’t take my fat cock?” he scoffs arrogantly. “you gotta work on your gag reflex, sweetheart.”

the muffles from your throat vibrate against his dick and toji groans in pleasure that he subconsciously rocks his hips, slapping your chin with his balls. your vision has become blurry and breathing becomes harder as you let him abuse your throat and your jaws ache before he abruptly pulls out and you can finally gasp for precious air.

“look at you,” his cock twitches with excitement when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks from your doe eyes and he wipes them away with his thumb, making you flinch slightly, “are you sorry for making daddy mad?” 

toji always tries to articulate each word with appease. it’s never soothing per se when you can sense the threat entwining in his voice and it’s fucking you psychologically.

and it deems to be successful when you’re already trembling in fear underneath him. 

you’re uncertain whether he prefers you to speak or not, but your throat is sore so you meekly nod your head in response. it’s better than nothing, to be honest.

“good. open your mouth.”

your mouth is already parted for air but you assume that he wants to put his cock in again. submissively, yet dreadfully, you open your mouth wider and await for him to shove his cock back in but you’re surprised when toji spits in your mouth instead. 

it’s warm and disgusting; you’re just left gaping and repelled, and you want to spit it out but toji squeezes your cheeks together.

“swallow.” he orders. you quickly brace yourself and close your eyes before cringing as you gulp down the mix of saliva in your mouth and toji releases his grip once he’s certain that you’ve ingested. 

“i could’ve made you swallow my cum but i’d feel bad,” he chuckles sardonically. “what do you have to say?” 

“t-thank you.” you whisper vaguely and he accustoms his face to a simper. 

“good girl.” toji smashes his lips onto yours, yet his eyes are locked with yours ominously for a brief second– a telltale that he expects you not to pull up another stunt before they close as he deepens the kiss. 

obviously, nothing would benefit you whether you comply or defy, not until you’ve catered for his insatiable lechery. but you’ve learned your lesson and although you’re compelled, you finally relent as every ounce of resistance begins to drift from you. 

toji breaks the kiss and shifts lower, peppering greedy kisses on your neck before he catches the soft, chaste skin between his teeth to suck and form purplish bruising marks. he lifts up your shirt over your head and hastily unclasps your bra, causing you to shudder once the cold air hits your exposed breasts. 

large, calloused hands press your mounds before his mouth latches on one perky tit, while the other is tweaked with his fingers. experienced tongue draws circles and sucks punishingly, alternating with the other nipple. the headboard rattles as you keen over the stimulation and your eyes open in dismay when you feel something hard prodding your clit. 

he moves lower and spits on your cunt before propping on his knees to take off his tight shirt– through subdued glow, you can make out the outline of his toned abs and broad chest as his large build towers menacingly in front of you; even when he’s not standing on his feet.

“listen. daddy is going to release the binds, but do you promise to be good?” he asks, smearing the saliva with his cockhead and against your slit.

“yes. i- i promise.” you murmur appallingly; as if you have a choice in the matter.

toji leans over to unrestrain you then he observes you, expecting you to put up a fight but instead, you just remain still underneath him. 

he grins in satisfaction, getting off to the fact that you’ve fallen into submission before he shifts back into his prior position and bends your knees up to line his cock with your hole. a feeling of triumph stirs inside him when he’s reminded that he’s the ‘chosen’ one to defile your innocence.

“stop! it hurts–!” you wail and your hands clench the sheets when you feel toji’s thick cock stretching your virgin cunt slowly, but he ignores you, groaning at the warmth that engulfs him and the tight walls that clenches him as he selfishly pushes through. 

it burns. so bad. your chest heaves rapidly and you screw your eyes shut as your face twists to express pain and uncomfort. “please, please–! i can’t–”

“yes, you can.” his tone is indifferent as he holds you down since your body keeps on wincing until he finally fills you to the brim and he can see a bulge poking on your tummy. 

“fuck. haven’t been inside a virgin cunt for a while.” he mutters under his breath. “now, i know it hurts but i promise you’ll enjoy it. it’s just too bad that you get to have a big cock as your first.” he snickers nonchalantly and leans down closer to your face, making you jolt when you feel it inching deeper.

“if it makes you feel better– you’re fucking tight. just the way daddy likes it.” toji whispers in your ear but you can only freeze in fear and agony.

toji hovers above you, his hands firmly grip the headboard in front of him and he begins to move his hips; thrusting in and out of your pussy. 

your fists clench the sheets harder as a loud cry rips from your throat, “no! it hurts! please!”

but toji doesn’t seem to mind, his cyan orbs stare down at you coldly yet in focus as he relishes over the plush walls clamping down on his cock. 

“stop! stop– i- i don’t want–!” you continuously wail as you writhe in anguish before he suddenly stops pounding and he wraps his hand around your neck instead, instantly drawing your attention to him as he applies pressure in his hold. 

“if you don’t stop whining like a bitch in heat, i will fucking breed you like one.” he warns through gritted teeth, clearly agitated over your act of defiance. 

“you want this. you’re going to love this.” his words are sick endeavours to coerce you into another round of complete submission. 

but what else can you do? toji’s hand is so large that his middle finger and thumb almost reach each other as it clasps around your frail neck and you know he can easily crush your windpipes if he wants to.

“say it. you. want. this.” he seethes.

“i. want. this.” you barely croak each word and they’re slowly influencing your cloudy mind. as soon as he releases you, you soothe the pain around your throat with your hand as you gasp for air.

“fuck. don’t think i didn’t feel you clenching around my cock just now.” he sneers and situates himself again before ruthlessly and steadily continuing where he left off. 

you only close your eyes and bite your lips hard to stop whimpering as you mentally comfort yourself and dissolve every inch of your sanity; i’m going to enjoy it, it’s going to feel good soon, i want this, i want this.

soon enough, toji notices that your muscles have relaxed– suggesting that you’ve finally caved in as pleasure overtakes you so he fucks you deeper and faster before he falls on his elbows and you can feel his bangs tickling your face.

“that’s it, baby. you make daddy feel so fucking good.” he praises between grunts. you can feel the veins on his cock dragging against your walls and he’s right, it feels so good and your lips open in breathless pants.

you find your arms to loosely wrap around his neck and your legs around his waist as if clinging onto him for dear life as toji ruts into your cunny like a feral beast. 

“you like it, yeah? this is what you want, isn’t it?” 

through hazy mind, you can only manage to whimper an audible ‘yes’ as you feel an odd, yet almost familiar knot twisting in your lower stomach begging to snap and your nails dig into the skin of his broad back upon the intense sensation shooting through your body. 

a low, deep guttural sound leaves his throat when he feels your nails sinking and scratching his back– it prompts him to quicken his pace and you can feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over, causing your back to arch simultaneously. 

“i’m– i’m gonna–!” you keen as your body trembles in anticipation and your sopping cunt is clenching on his throbbing cock like a vice. 

“fuck yeah. cum on daddy’s cock.” toji urges and nips on the sensitive skin of your neck to tip you over the edge and your pupils blow wide as you break into a scream. despite being your second orgasm for the night, an overwhelming euphoria washes over you for the first time of your life; is this what it feels like? you don’t know, you’ve never had one (at least not from a cock) and your pussy is just fluttering, pulsing and creaming around his cock. 

“hah– fuck. good girl.” 

toji remains to snap his hips, fucking you through your high as you’re left in daze from your orgasm. toji can feel his balls tensing and his thrusts are turning sporadic as he inches closer to his climax. your whines and nonsense babbles are drowned by the feeling of pleasure that’s enveloping him and he doesn’t even have the resolution to listen to you gibbering when your cunny is just milking him, sucking him in like it doesn’t want to let go and he just wants to give what your greedy pussy asks for; to fill it up with his thick load until it’s full and leaking out of you. 

and daddy knows best, after all.

“shit– i won’t be able to hold it any longer. say you want daddy’s cum.” he grunts.

you’ve partly snapped out of your daze when you hear his voice again, and though you can’t see his face that’s already buried next to your head, you’re petrified and it’s making you feel dizzy and suffocated. 

“i– n-no. please not–” you sob through your raw throat.

but toji doesn’t listen and you don’t know if you’re relieved or not because if he does, you know that it’ll tick him off and it’s going to do you more harm than good– but you’re scared and it hurts, that you unwillingly start to snivel again.

“shut up. you’re gonna take it like a good cumslut.” he shoves two long fingers in your mouth, causing you to choke on them.

“daddy’s gonna cum in this pretty pussy and you’re gonna fucking take it.” 

toji’s grunts ring in your ears and you’re able to feel his cock twitching inside you before he finally releases hot ropes of cum– filling up and defiling your womb.

“y-you came inside..” you mumble once he takes out his fingers as you’re left entirely devastated and stupefied. 

“fucking did.” he pants, lifting his body up from you and pulls out his cock to shove back the dribbling cum that’s leaking from your abused cunny with his finger. you would wince but your mind is already numb and your body is sore that you can do nothing but burn holes through the ceiling above.

“don’t look so sad.” the room resonates with his chuckles and he gets off the bed to put back on his pants. toji walks over to the nightstand where a pack of cigarettes await him and he puts one between his lips and you can hear the flicking sounds of a lighter as he tries to burn the tip. 

“i can promise you that other guys wouldn’t be rough as me but one thing’s for sure,” he inhales the tobacco and exhales in a gratifying manner, “that will stay as the best fuck of your life.”

fat tears stream down your cheeks and you curl on your side, protecting your now-ruined-body as you quietly sob and your mind takes you back from how the ordeal even started and causes you to end up where you are right now– and it only makes you cry harder.

toji only lets out an exasperated sigh. he grabs his shirt from the floor and throws it on his shoulder before reaching the door.

“megumi won’t be coming home ‘til tomorrow. he said something about the train and the weather, so you can leave when you’re done. you know your way out.”

you hear the door close shut behind him and you’re left in the dark with nothing but the smell of his tobacco and the sounds of the drizzling rain accompanying you as you drown in your thoughts and griefs. 

how many mistakes have you made today? four? five? or more? 

you’ve lost count and you question yourself over again until you’re no longer able to care.

what’s done is done.

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

enjoyed this work? wanna buy me coffee? :)

#toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #r; writes #fushiguro toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #tw; noncon #tw; breeding #tw; mind break #tw; ptsd #tw; age gap #touji fushiguro #touji smut #toji angst #toji fushiguro angst #toji fanfic #tw; coercion

[numbinousss]

If you're a bird, I'm a bird

Part 2 !!MINORS DNI!!

Characters: Hitoshi Shinso x Reader

Words: 4.6k

Summary: Virgin Reader and Shinso go back to Reader’s house and talk about their feelings and then things get ~spicy~. Reader goes by she/her and is female-bodied. Part 3 is in the works. 

Warnings: Reader loses her virginity. She calls Shinso “sir.” Female receiving Oral. It’s pretty vanilla.

Also, um, this is baby’s first smut, soooo, pls feel free to send some constructive criticism. Emphasis on constructive. If you’re mean to me I’ll cry beat your ass.

The two of you spend the rest of the cab ride catching up and talking about old times. You are pleased to find it’s nowhere nearly as uncomfortable as you suspected it would be. The conversation is entirely natural and teasing, just like old times. 

“Well, this is me,” you say, unlocking your apartment door. “Want some coffee or anything?”

“Duh,” Shinso responds, following you into your small apartment, following your lead and kicking off his shoes. “Black, please. And I’ll go find you some Advil.”

“Oh! Medicine cabinet. Bathroom. Thanks! You’re a lifesaver!”

You begin brewing the coffee as Shinso digs through your medicine cabinet. Searching for the Advil, he finds a bottle of Zoloft and one of anxiety medication. Huh. I didn’t know about those, he thinks to himself, inspecting the containers. They date back a few months ago. He finds the Advil behind a packet of birth control pills and brings it into the kitchen. 

“Thanks a million,” you say, making a glass of water and throwing two pills into your mouth.

“Don’t mention it,” he says, grabbing a couple for himself. “Soooo. This is where you live, huh?”

“Yep. I know it’s not a whole lot. But it’s mine.”

“No, it’s great! Cozy. It’s exactly what you used to say you wanted when we were younger.”

“Yeah, but they don’t allow pets, except for fish, which sucks.”

“Damn, so no cats?? No, we’ve gotta find you a new place immediately,” he jokes.

You giggle and fill two mugs with coffee, gesturing for him to follow you into the living room. There’s a moment of silence as you sit on opposite ends of the couch, savoring your hot coffees.

“So,” Hitoshi begins, shifting around in his seat, “I hate to ruin the good vibes, but-”

“But you wanna talk? I figured you would,” you interrupt. He was never one to beat around the bush. “Hitoshi, we really don’t have to. People grow older. They grow apart. C’est la vie,” you say, watching your beverage form a whirlpool as you swirl your mug. “It sucks, but it happens. You don’t have to-”

“But I do, though. You deserve some sort of an explanation. What I did was… well, it was unforgivable. And tonight on the balcony, we were alone, and I was waiting for you to get mad, to let me have it, but you never did. And then we came here, and, well, you seem like you don’t even have a problem with me, welcoming me back with open arms? And giving me coffee? Which honestly makes me feel so much worse than yelling or fighting would have because I know that’s what I deserve from you-”

“Come on, Hitoshi. You’re acting like you killed my pet or something. It was never that big of a deal.” That might be the biggest lie I’ve ever told. The truth is, you truly do not want to talk to Hitoshi about whatever made him leave you behind. Even now, as he tries his best to apologize and explain himself, you can feel his words ripping apart the seams of old wounds you thought had healed, and you feel tears pricking at your eyes. I can’t go through these feelings again. The feelings after losing you. Please.

“It was a big deal! It was to me, at least, because you meant so much to me! I even told you as much that last day that we spoke. I know you remember. And I- I had to have meant as much to you as you did to me because… well because I just know I had to,” he said, desperation filling his eyes as he searched yours for any sign of emotion. “So, please, don’t just sit there and try to pretend like you’re unbothered by what I did to us, okay? That’s the whole reason I fucked everything up; it was because I was trying to save face and act like I didn’t care, but I did. I really, really did. So please, yell at me, say something, say anything, throw things, cuss me out. Just prove to me that you cared about me as much as I did you. I know it wasn’t one-sided. It couldn’t have been. Please, just let me talk to you about it; let me make it right!” he says, eyes watery.

You have never seen Hitoshi so emotional, other than the day he told you he was leaving for the hero course. You have to tell him the truth. “I was never angry with you, ‘Toshi. I could never be angry with you, not for following your dreams.” You take a shaky breath. “I only wish you would have told me why. I was so confused.”

“Well, why did you think I did it? You had to have come up with some theory or-”

“It’ll only upset you, Hitoshi,” you respond, eyes glued to your toes as they dig into the fluffy rug beneath the couch.

“I have to know. Please?” he says, leaning closer, placing his hand on yours.

You let out a defeated sigh, walls breaking down from his touch. “Okay. Just promise you won’t, like, lose it or anything, okay? And don’t interrupt.” He gives you a silent nod, clasping your hand in his. “I-I came up with a lot of reasons about why you might have wanted to, um, you know, forget about me.” Tears start leaking from your eyes. You take a shaky breath. “Um th-the one I had finally decided made the most sense was that you just didn’t need me anymore, I guess. It was a new school. People thought you were so cool with your quirk. You didn’t need me as your, um, a-as,” a loud sob escapes your body. “S-sorry. Sorry,” you say as you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down enough to speak. “You didn’t need me to be your last resort friend anymore because e-everyone else wanted to be friends with you. And ever since middle school, I had always been the one chasing after you in the first place. I offered to be your friend; I offered to follow you to UA. And then, when you joined the h-hero course, and you didn’t chase me back, well, ya know. I figured out how one-sided the friendship seemed. It made sense that, well, that, maybe, you just didn’t w-want me around anymore. Because I was rep-replaceable to you. And that’s fine,” you say, snatching your hand away from his and turning to face the other direction as you let out another sob. “You really were my only friend for a long time. But I would have rather been alone than been stuck as someone’s charity case.”

It is only now that you realize, you really are angry. In high school, it was easy to push the anger down because you were blinded by the love you had for Shinso. But now, as an adult, you understand your feelings so much better. You feel your cheeks go red and a pounding in your head as you want nothing more than for Shinso to feel the same hurt that you did. “I-I cried for hours every night for months, Hitoshi,” you say as you whip your head around to look into his shocked eyes. “You were all I had; you knew you were all I had, and- and you just disappeared. You could have said something, anything, Some kinda forewarning would have been real nice!” You’re yelling now. All of these suppressed emotions bubbling up from years ago are nearly too much for you to handle. “I hate you! I wasn’t smart enough to resent you then, but I hate you now!” You begin flinging every insult and hurtful word you can think of at him, but he just sits there and takes it, tears silently pouring out over his cheeks. You know you mean nothing you say, and you’re certain he knows it too, but you’re too enraged to care. “Well?” you scream at him, desperate for some kind of reaction. “You wanted a rise out of me Hitoshi? You wanted proof that I cared, that you meant something to me? You meant everything to me! I loved you so much. And you just left me behind in the dirt with no explanation, no anything! You never even-”

“You loved me?” he interrupts, looking at you with a bewildered expression through wet eyelashes. 

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Of course I loved you,” you say, quieter now, still shaking with emotion. 

He grabs your hand in his again, rubbing soothing circles into your skin with his thumb, trying to calm you down. It’s as if all the rage you felt in that moment dissipated, leaving you behind with nothing but despair and weakness. Sobs wrack through your body, leaving you shaking and gasping for air.

“I wish I would have known,” he says, staring at your entwined hands, a stony expression on his face. 

“Would it have changed an-anything?” you gasp out, laying your head on his shoulder for comfort.

He moves his other hand to your cheek, wiping away a tear, his violet eyes softening as he looks into yours. “Oh, baby,” he says, a sympathetic look overtaking his features. “It would have changed everything.”

You aren’t sure who kisses who first; you just know that all of a sudden his lips are attacking yours. Your hands tangle in his hair, desperate to get closer, closer to the boy you still love. His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you on top of him so that you are straddling his lap. His kisses are devouring, tongue snaking out and fighting for dominance with your own. Your lips separate for a fraction of a second to allow a quick breath, but never for longer than that. If you were to stop kissing him for even a second, you know your heart would burst from longing.

Your hands start roaming Shinso’s body, unsure of where to land and desperate to explore all of him. They travel from his hair to his neck, to his thighs, across his hard chest, to his thick biceps, back up to his hair, just to start their journey all over again. You feel a hardness poking into you through his pants, causing a heat to spread throughout your body and a wetness to pool in your panties. You grind your clothed pussy against his hard-on, causing him to jolt and gasp with pleasure. He swallows your whimpers as the two of you grind against one another. 

“Baby, I want you. Baby, please,” he begs in between kisses. “Can I have you, please, baby?”

“Mm-hm,” you moan into his mouth. “Want you, too, ‘Toshi.”

He finally breaks your kiss, yanking your top off and throwing it to the floor. You feel his strong arms grab you by the waist and pull you off of his lap, twisting the position until you’re lying on your back beneath him. He begins peppering tiny kisses from the corner of your mouth down to the base of your throat as you continue to grind against him, desperate to feel his touch beneath your clothing. Shinso begins licking and nipping at your neck as he unclasps your bra and drops it on the floor. You moan as you feel his strong hands groping your breasts and his fingers pinching and twisting your nipples. He moves his mouth down your body, biting and sucking in a manner that is sure to leave marks, creating a trail down to the spot right in between your breasts. Your hands tangle in his hair as his tongue slides across your bare skin onto your nipple. His tongue swirls around the area right before his teeth catch the sensitive bud. He alternates between suckling and biting one nipple while his fingers continue to pinch and pull the other. He begins switching between your breasts, giving the other attention with his mouth. 

More, you need more. As if with a mind of their own, your hands fly down to his belt to undo the buckle. It takes a second of fiddling because you can’t see what your hands are doing, but you finally get the buckle and the buttons on his pants undone. His hands help you slide his pants off and toss them across the room. His mouth feels amazing on your tits, but you are beginning to grow impatient from the lack of attention farther down your body. You grab his soft, purple locks, yanking him up, and he releases you with a pop. “Stop fucking teasing, and touch me already,” you whine into his ear. 

You feel him give you a playful smirk as his lips ghost up against yours. “Well that’s not very polite.” He lets out a dark chuckle, twisting a hand into your hair and pulling, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Why don’t you beg me a little nicer? Huh, baby? Can you do that for me?”

This is a side of Shinso you have never seen before. And, good lord, is it turning you on. “Um. Y-yes. Uhm. I-”

“Mmmm, no, baby,” he grins, sliding a hand down your stomach, over your belly, and under the waistband of your pants. He pauses with his fingers on top of your panties, right on top of your clit. “Try, ‘Yes, sir.’ Can you try that for me?” 

The feeling of his fingers right on top of that weak spot makes you gasp. “Y-yes sir. Please, touch me, please,” you whine. You begin grinding your clit into his fingers, desperate for some stimulation, but he uses his other arm to hold your hips still. 

“Nuh-uh, baby,” he says, removing his hand from beneath your pants, causing you to whimper. “I think,” he whispers, leaning into your neck, peppering a few more kisses onto the area, “I think you need to be a little more specific. Tell me exactly what you want from me, baby.” 

“I-I want you to take all of our clothes off.” Your face flushes red from the embarrassment of the vulgar thoughts Shinso is making you express. “A-and I want you to make me feel good, p-please. Sir.”

Shinso smirks and springs into action, yanking off your bottoms, leaving you completely exposed to him. He sits up and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his strong arms and muscular physique in all its glory. Your eyes follow his lilac happy trail down to the bulge straining against the front of his black boxers. He’s fucking huge.

He grabs your ankles and throws them over his shoulders, leaning down to kiss your lips again, continuing to grind against you as he does so. “Um, ‘Toshi?” you say shyly. 

“Mm?” he responds, his lips never leaving your face.

“It’s just that I, um, I’ve never actually done anything like this before,” you say, a pink twinge in your cheeks.

You feel his body freeze as he pulls back to look at your face. “You’re still a virgin?” he asks incredulously.

“Yeah,” you reply, slightly embarrassed. “Is that, um, ya know, bad?”

“No! No, it’s not bad at all. It’s kind of a big thing, though. Are you still sure you want to um, do this, with, uh, with me?”

The way he’s staring at you is so genuinely caring and almost protective, in a way. It’s the way he’s always looked at you. Truthfully, there’s no one you’d feel safer or more comfortable doing this with. Your heart flutters. “I’m positive,” you answer.

“Okay,” he grins, leaning down to kiss you again.

His tongue begins sliding down your neck, past your breasts, down your torso. He reaches your pussy and gives your clit a little kitten lick. Your body involuntarily shivers from the excitement of the touch. Shinso smirks, dragging a finger across your slit. “Oh, baby,” he groans. “You’re practically dripping down here. Is all this for me?” You let out a moan in response. “Uh-uh. Use your words, baby,” he says, dragging his finger across your slit again, appreciating the feeling of your soaked pussy.

“Y-yes, sir. S’all for you. Want you to touch me, please,” you whine.

“Don’t worry, baby girl. I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he says, the tip of his nose brushing against your clit as he inhales a deep breath. Suddenly, you feel the tip of Shinso’s tongue stroke up your slit. You yelp at the feeling, body jerking as your thighs try to snap shut from the unfamiliar pleasure. 

“Relax, baby,” Shinso says, placing his hands on each of your thighs, forcing them apart. “And don’t even think about doing that again.”

“I wasn’t trying to-”

“What was that, sweetheart?” he asks, with a small slap to your clit.

You gasp from the sensation. “I-I mean, yes, sir.”

“Mmm. Good girl,” he says, delving back into your folds, his fingers gripping your thighs so hard they’re certain to leave little purple bruises. His tongue laps at your juices, prodding at your entrance. He lets out a soft moan as his tongue eases its way inside of you. Your body bucks forward as you fight against the urge to pull your thighs together for a second time. Your moans drive him absolutely feral, encouraging him to tongue-fuck you even faster. His mouth slides up your slit, landing on your clit. 

“You taste so good, baby,” he moans. He pinches your delicate nub with his teeth, causing you to arch your back and let out a loud moan. A hot, intense feeling begins coiling in your belly. “Oh! Ohmygosh, ‘Toshi, fuck! Please don’t stop,” you beg as he goes harder. He alternates between sucking, biting, and leaving soft little kisses on your most sensitive spot. 

“Gonna cum from just my mouth, baby? Hmm?” his question vibrates around your nub. 

“Yes sir, please, you feel too good,” you whine, breathless.

Just as he feels that you're about to come undone, he thrusts two thick fingers into your hole, curling and scissoring them inside of you. “Shit!” you yell. The foreign feeling of something thrusting inside of you causes a slight discomfort, but paired with Shinso’s sucking and licking on your clit, it adds immensely to your pleasure. You feel a cord snap inside of you as an intense feeling washes over you. Your walls convulse around Shinso’s fingers, and you can’t hold back from screaming his name. He continues thrusting them in and out of you, helping you ride out your high. 

When he feels you relax around him, he slowly removes his thick fingers from inside of you, pushing himself up so that you’re face to face. He admires you as you lie there with a fucked-out expression, breathless and panting. “Open, baby,” he says as he pushes the two fingers covered in your juices against your lips. Head still foggy, you open your mouth for him. “Now suck,” he commands, and you wrap your lips around his fingers, sucking and tasting your juices from off his pretty hands.

He takes his fingers out of your mouth and uses them to push a few strands of sweaty hair from your face. His mouth meets yours in a gentle kiss. “You okay?” he asks, noticing you’re still in shock from your orgasm.

“M’okay,” you mutter, hands holding on tight to his arms. “That was just… I mean, wow,” you say, shaking your head.

He chuckles, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re so fucking cute. You know that?” he asks, grabbing your face to plant another kiss on your lips. His groin brushes against your thigh, and he kisses you harder, suddenly very aware of the problem still tucked away beneath his boxers. 

“I’m gonna keep going, okay?” he whispers into your ear. He knows he should probably slow down, give you a little more time to adjust, to come back down to earth after that first orgasm, especially considering this is your first time. But damn, he is so hard for you and God, he has waited so long to have you like this.

He slides his boxers off and discards them onto the floor with the rest of the clothing. He slots himself in between your legs, eager to finally feel you around him. “I’m gonna go slow, okay? It’s probably gonna hurt for a second, but I’ll try to be gentle. Let me know if you need me to stop, alright?”

“Yes, sir,” you respond, your heart rate pumping at a million beats per minute.

He smirks at the use of the name, “Such a quick learner.” He spits into his hand, rubbing his cock with his saliva, prepping it to slide into your hole a little more easily. “Can’t wait to have my cock inside your tight little pussy, baby,” he says, making you squirm.

“Okay,” he huffs, pressing the tip of his cock into your slit. He slides the first couple inches inside of you, causing you to release a sharp gasp. “Shit, baby,” he groans, feeling you squeeze around his tip. He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. “This okay?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer, adjusting to his impressive girth. The stretch so far is uncomfortable, but it’s nowhere near as bad as you thought it would be. He gives you a moment to get used to the feeling of being stretched open and then pushes himself a couple inches deeper inside you, swallowing your whimpers as he does so. “Oh my God,” you breathe, feeling the stretch a little bit more now.

“Oh, baby, you’re squeezing my cock so tight,” he moans. “Don’t worry. Halfway there,” he tries to comfort you, seeing your pained expression.

“Half??” you gasp out.

He chuckles at your cute, shocked expression. “Yeah, baby, half.” His smirking lips pull yours into another deep, passionate kiss, a couple inches of his cock naturally sliding inside you as you grind gently against each other. Your fingers tangle in his soft, fluffy hair. “Mmm,” he moans against your lips. “Ready for the rest of it, baby?”

“I-I think so,” you say, having almost adjusted to the length already inside you.

His hips slowly thrust up, pushing the final few inches of his cock into you, sheathed fully inside you at last. You yelp at the painful feeling of him bottoming out inside of you, tears springing to your eyes. “I know, baby, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he says, eyes full of concern. “I know it hurts, but the worst part is over now, okay? I promise.” He stays still inside of you, feeling your too-tight walls desperately try to stretch to take his impressive size. A few tears spill from your eyes, and Shinso’s soft fingertips immediately come to brush them away. “Just let me know when you’re ready for me to move, okay, baby?”

The two of you lie still for a moment, getting used to the feeling of the other. Your walls slowly begin to relax around Shinso’s cock as you grow accustomed to his size. “How you feelin’?” he asks you. 

“I’m okay,” you respond. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, just feels… I dunno, weird. And full. But I-I think I’m ready for you to move now.”

Shinso places a delicate kiss on your forehead. “If you need me to stop just let me know, okay, sweetheart?” You give him a small nod as he puts his hands on your hips, preparing himself to move. You feel his length slide partially out of you, before he thrusts up into you, dragging himself against your walls. 

“Oh my God!” you gasp. Slowly, he begins repeating the motion, careful not to overwhelm you, giving you time to grow accustomed to this new feeling. He releases a moan as he feels your pussy fluttering so prettily around him. You appreciate his tenderness and the way he’s trying to be gentle, but you grow needier, longing to feel more of him. 

With a new sense of desperation, you roll your hips, searching for that feeling of more of him, meeting him in a thrust. The two of you cry out as the tip of Shinso’s cock unexpectedly kisses your cervix, making you close your eyes and throw your head back in pleasure.

“Shit, baby,” Shinso gasps out, thrusting in and out of you. “Want me to go faster?”

“Yes, sir. Please,” you whine, eyes shut, mouth hanging open in a pout. “Need to feel more of you, Toshi’, please, please,” you beg, brain fuzzy with desire.

His grasp on your hips tightens as he starts moving harder, faster against your walls, hitting your sensitive spot effortlessly, over and over again, causing the fire in your tummy to ignite once more. He feels your tight cunt squeeze around him harder, desperately trying to suck him in deeper. “Oh, did I find something baby?” he moans into your ear. He didn’t expect a coherent answer, your face twisted up into a blissful expression, mouth hanging open, not even trying to keep your moans and whimpers quiet anymore. You simply moaned loud, burying your face in his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders, desperate to find something to latch onto.

“Wrap your legs around my waist. It’ll feel better,” he gasps out.

You do as he says, wrapping your legs tightly around him. “Toshi’!” you yell out his name as he begins pounding into you harder and deeper, his tip meeting your cervix with every thrust of his hips.

“Open your eyes baby,” he tells you. “Want you to look at me while I fuck you.”

You open your eyes to meet his, his vulgar language causing the intense feeling in your tummy to grow stronger, hotter. He grabs your hands from his back, lacing his fingers through your own, giving you the clutch you were so desperately craving. Your cunt starts convulsing and clenching around the big man pounding into you. “Fuck, Toshi’, I-I think-”

“Gonna come for me, baby? Hm?” he asks you, never slowing down his now relentless pace. “Go ahead, baby. Come on my cock.”

Your back arches and your toes curl as a damn breaks inside of you. Hitoshi fucks you through your orgasm, wanting it to last as long and intense as possible. Only when you stop twitching underneath him does he pull out and release his load, scrunching up his face and opening his mouth wide in a moan, allowing his cum to spurt all over your cute belly. 

He collapses on top of you, holding you tight in his arms, running a hand through your hair as the two of you catch your breath and come down from your highs. 

Your eyelids feel heavy, but you fight off sleep, not wanting this moment you had fantasized about for so long to end. “So,” you start.

“So,” he repeats, giving you a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“I guess the curtains do match the drapes, huh? I always kind of wondered that.”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck you,” he says with a smile, giving you a few more tender kisses on your cheek. “You feel okay?”

“Pretty sore,” you admit. “Mostly just really sleepy.”

“Yeah, that’ll happen,” he chuckles. “Next time won’t hurt so much.” He lets go of you and hops off the couch. You whine at the lack of contact. “Come on,” he says, reaching out a hand. “I know you’re tired, but we need to clean you up.”

“Only if you promise to stay the night,” you say, sitting upright and grabbing his hand. He helps you up and places a strong hand behind your back.

“Baby,” he says, giving you a final peck on the lips, “I am never letting you go again.”

@critter-junior​

#hitoshi shinso x reader #shinso x reader #shinso smut #hitoshi shinsou x reader #hitoshi smut #hitoshi x reader #shinsou smut #mha smut #bnha smut #smut #my hero academia #my hero academia smut #virgin reader #shinso x virgin reader #friends to lovers #boku no hero academia smut #boku no hero academia

[homerforsure]

Whumptober No. 6 Bruises / Touch Starved / Hunger Whumptober No. 30 major character death / left for dead / ghosts

Me: I can’t believe I have to post this absolutely incomprehensible piece of writing. 

Me: You don’t... have to?

Me: No, I’m gonna. 

Buck has an exceptional number of pillows on his bed. There are six, before he knocks a few to the floor every night, and he burrows into them like a nest, curling up with one against his chest, two pressed against his back, one between his legs. His sheets are a ridiculously priced, cool, crisp cotton that welcomes him in, surrounding him. The blankets he uses aren’t weighted, but they’re heavy and thick and he keeps his air conditioning turned up so he doesn’t have to give up the feeling of nestling into them in the heat of summer. Along with the white noise machine on his night stand, all of it is chosen to trick him into sleep. To keep back the feeling that night time in his own apartment is the loneliest part of Buck’s day. 

It wasn’t perfect, pre-covid. It’s been a long time since Buck had someone share his space, share his bed, someone he could reach out and touch whenever he wanted. But his life outside of home was full. He didn’t lack for closeness; in some ways he had more than he’d ever dreamed. So while he had lonely moments, they weren’t a constant ache in his chest. 

These months though. These months hurt. Facetime isn’t a substitute for curling up on Maddie’s couch with whatever silly-labeled wine she’d liked best that week. It’s definitely not a substitute for Eddie’s couch and losing to Christopher over and over again at Mario Kart. The last time they talked, Eddie had reached over and ruffled Christopher’s hair and Buck felt it. First as a tingle up the back of his scalp and then as a bruise to his heart. Eddie’s touches, so constant and so casual, became essential somewhere along the way and Buck feels himself reaching out for them even when he knows it’s not allowed.

“Six feet, gentlemen,” Bobby says gently when their orbits swing toward each other and Eddie makes a dramatic show of raising his hands and taking a giant step backward. Bobby just shakes his head and reminds them it’s the price they all agreed to pay for not wearing masks in the firehouse. 

Buck starts dreading the end of a call when taking off his heavy turnout coat leaves him feeling cold and exposed. He folds into himself, claiming a chair, putting in earbuds and crossing his arms tight over his chest, pulling his knees up even though he knows better than to put his shoes on the furniture.

It’s a similar position to the one he lies in at night, clinging to the pillows, trying to draw comfort out of the smooth fabric. In those moments, his loneliness is so loud it might as well be a beacon sent out into the universe, a burning shout of need. 

And that shout is heard. 

***

“Have you guys heard of exploding head syndrome?” Buck asks one morning when the calls are slow and the crew is all lingering in a lazy way rather than rushing off to take care of their other duties. 

“What, the band?” Chimney asks.

“I think it was an album,” Bobby says.

“No,” Buck sighs. “It’s a sleep thing. It’s this loud noise that you hear when you’re falling asleep like a massively loud explosion. Only it’s just happening in your head.”

“Is your brain actually exploding? Like an aneurism?”

“No. It’s just the noise.” 

Just the loudest noise Buck had ever heard. It woke him up with a feeling of abject terror. It was an explosion that didn’t echo. It just rang, clear and true through his eardrums like the end of the world. Even as he struggled out of his sheets, searching for the source so he could run from it, part of him knew it wasn’t a sound that left any physical evidence. What could it even be? A sound like that? An old fashioned safe dropping from two stories up? A car crash without the crunch? Just a high speed collision of two immovable objects, all of the equal and opposite reaction of their momentum forced to escape as sound. 

Once his heart rate had slowed, he googled. He wasn’t initially sure what to google. “Ridiculously loud noise woke me up” seemed at once too vague and too specific but sure enough. Exploding Head Syndrome. It was what happened. Obviously. But Buck remained too full of adrenaline to sleep. As he sat up in bed, he couldn’t shake the urge to look around. Under the bed, in the closet, behind the shower curtain. He didn’t feel alone. 

“I’m just glad it’s happening in your head instead of mine,” Chim laughs. “Maybe try putting some earmuffs on before you go to sleep tonight.” ***

The sound doesn’t reappear. Buck is relieved, but sleeping doesn’t get any easier. He tries to soothe himself with obscenely long hot baths, by ordering a hoodie that’s more fluff than fabric, by running a foam roller across his muscles, trying to pry them into relaxation. It’s so much work and it does so little. Buck’s entire body is screaming out at all times for a hug or a massage or even just a really fucking good haircut. It takes longer and longer to fall asleep and the little sleep he does get isn’t restful. It’s like whatever meager comfort he manages to give himself during the day is leached away in the night. 

He doesn’t even notice the bruises at first. It’s an easy enough thing to miss. Their job is heavy physical labor and Buck barrels through a scene like a one man stampede. Bruises are as common as the smell of smoke in his hair. The ones Eddie points out on his arm though are different. 

Buck’s carrying a kitten at the time. The fire they’ve been fighting is beaten back to smolders. Buck shucked off his coat, wet and dripping from the hose and too cold for the shaking animal, and grabbed a blanket from the ambulance to wrap her up and cradle her against his chest. He’s rubbing his face against her damp fur, feeling the softness like a concentrated shot of endorphins when Eddie asks, “What the hell happened to you?”

“What are you talking about?” Buck asks and Eddie’s hands are pushing up the sleeves of his shirt, rolling them up to his shoulders while Buck’s trying to hold onto the cat.

“You don’t feel that?”

“Feel what?” He’s maybe a little ruder than he means to be but the sleep deprivation makes him cranky and the touch deprivation means that Eddie’s gently probing fingers feel like a dream on his skin. The care in the brush of his hands makes Buck’s knees weak. 

“Your arms are bruised to hell,” Eddie says. “Are you- Did someone grab you or something?”

“I swear to god, Eddie. I don’t feel anything.” Except grumpy and exhausted and longing. 

“Jesus, it goes all the way up your shoulders. It looks like-” He stops, pulling Buck’s collar aside and tracing a small spot that Buck can’t see even if he turns his head. “They look like fingerprints, Buck. Are you seeing someone?” 

“What!”

“These are handprints. And they’re dark. Do you really not-”

Buck wrenches himself from Eddie’s grasp so he can turn around and look at him because if Eddie’s really accusing him of putting everyone at risk by trying to date someone right now… But Eddie’s face is nothing but concerned. Which makes Buck scared. 

“Is it really that bad?” he asks, clutching the cat to his chest. 

Eddie rubs a hand up Buck’s back (it feels so good, hot like Buck’s t-shirt isn’t even between them and is it just because it’s been so long or just because it’s Eddie?) without looking around to see if Bobby’s watching and that’s really all the confirmation Buck needs. It’s bad. 

***

After that, Buck starts to feel them. He wakes up and he can’t breathe. He wakes up and he can’t move. He wakes up on the floor. He spends every moment that he’s asleep fighting to wake up. Buck can only remember fragments and pieces of the torment but he knows that it feels like drowning. Like being held down. Like being grabbed and pulled and smothered. He thinks he remembers long dark hair. 

Google is useless. Sleep apnea. Sleep paralysis. Sleep terrors. Even sleepwalking. None of them can account for the worst of it. For the physical signs of whatever is happening to him while he sleeps.

Bruises bloom blue on the pale skin of his hips. Purple on his ribs. Green on the back of his neck. The ones that Eddie saw first on his arm fade to yellow.  A long scratch runs down the side of his face. Dark circles under his eyes grow darker every day. 

“What’s happening to me?” he asks his reflection.

All he wants is to be able to ask that question with someone’s arms around him. He wants anyone to hold him tight and shush his fears and tell him that it’ll be okay. 

It’s easier than he thought to hide it. Buck just chooses his shower times strategically and opts for a long sleeve uniform, complaining that he ruined his short sleeves ones by grabbing bleach instead of detergent while he was half asleep. 

He’s always half asleep these days.

At least in the bunk rooms, he gets some semblance of rest. Whatever presence he feels in his own bedroom doesn’t cross this threshold and Buck sleeps deeply, almost missing the scream of the alarm. 

“It’s getting worse isn’t it?” Eddie asks, cornering Buck in the locker room. Buck can’t help but nod and Eddie steps closer as if to touch him. 

Buck flinches away and Eddie pulls up short as though hitting an invisible wall. 

He breathes Buck’s name on a pained exhale and says, “You have to get some help. Whatever it is…”

“I don’t know what it is!’ Buck answers. “It’s living in my house and it- it- God. Maybe I need an exorcism.”

“Maybe you should come home with me,” Eddie suggests and Buck recoils again. 

The firehouse seems safe but there’s no guarantee that Buck won’t be followed anywhere else. He’s desperate to be safe--desperate for Eddie to make him safe--but not at the expense of anyone else. Not when he doesn’t know what he’s facing. 

“Okay,” Eddie says. “But call me in the morning.” 

***

The burned girl screams louder when she sees Buck than she did while they were putting out the inferno of her car. 

“Stay away from me!” She shrieks. “Stay awaystayawaystayaway.”

“Miss, we’re going to need you to calm down,” Hen says to her. “Buck, you wanna move aside? Like preferably somewhere she can’t see you?”

Buck does because the patient’s well-being is more important than anything, but his skin feels like ice. He wants to demand to know what else she sees when she looks at him. Wants to know how she knows. For half a second, he imagines following her to the hospital and waiting for her outside the glass doors.  

They aren’t far from her house (52% of accidents happen within five miles of home) and the girl’s father arrives on the scene before they finish prepping her to be transported. And he sees Buck. 

He freezes when he does, but at least he doesn’t scream. He ignores Buck completely, instead going to the ambulance where his daughter is still crying and trying to soothe her. Hen offers to let him ride in the ambulance, but he says that he’ll take his car. 

“You’re in a lot of trouble,” he says, returning to Buck as the ambulance pulls away. “What you summoned… That’s not a normal ghost.”

“I didn’t summon anything! It just happened.” Buck’s voice is high-pitched and he just barely stops himself from grabbing onto the man’s arm, but the man doesn’t seem afraid of Buck the way his daughter was. “What is it? How do I make it go away?”

The man shrugs, “She came in through an open door. Which door depends on the person. But she’ll do everything in her power to keep it pried open. All you can do is try to close it again.”

It is… the least helpful advice Buck’s ever been given in his entire life. But the man’s daughter is on her way to the hospital and he needs to follow her. He vanishes. 

***

They’re about to have four days off. Buck’s bracing himself to meet the woman in his dreams. To look around in that dreamspace for open doors and slam them shut again. He can do it. He has to. 

***

The next night Buck wakes up and he can’t move. He’s paralyzed on the bed. He’s paralyzed on the bed and someone’s standing at the top of his stairs. 

She’s not… right. Buck can’t quite see in the dark and he can’t lift his head but the woman on his stairs isn’t solid in the way a human should be. The outline of her is strong, but it’s like she’s a shell wrapped around a cavernous emptiness. She’s across the room but she’s already pulling at him. 

Buck tries to thrash but his arms are pinned as if her hands are already on his wrists. He needs to reach the lamp. If he can just turn on the light.

“Get away from me,” he pleads and the part of her face where lips should be turns up, revealing pointed teeth that stand in front of a void.

“You called me,” she says. The words don’t come from her mouth and Buck doesn’t hear them with his ears. It’s wrong wrong wrong. He throws himself hard to the left and he rolls, flying further than he expected to, suddenly free, and crashes hard into the table, knocking the lamp to the floor. It shatters, bulb and all and pain scrapes across Buck’s shoulders.

“Poor boy,” the ghost mocks. “Poor lonely boy. Just wants someone to touch him. Just wants someone to stay with him. I heard you.”

“No,” Buck says and he tries to scramble, but his feet can’t find purchase on the floor. “I didn’t want you.”

He doesn’t deny the call. Can’t deny it when his heart is reaching out in the same pleading, desperate way now. Please. Anyone.

In the time it takes to blink she’s in front of him. She’s so close. She shouldn’t be able to get that close without standing on him but she’s there. Her voice whispers in his mind, “You should choose your words more carefully.”

And then her hands are around his throat.

The pressure is insistent and her motive is unmistakable. She’s going to kill him. She’s going to squeeze the life out of him. He’s going to die here and Eddie’s going to find his body because Eddie’s going to come rushing over as soon as Buck doesn’t call him in the morning and what if this thing is still here waiting for him. 

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Buck’s mind yells for him like his lungs did when Eddie was buried except now it’s Buck who’s too far away, who’s trapped somewhere deep and dark with no hope of escape. 

He tries to breathe and his breath whistles. It’s like the first time someone handed him a styrofoam cup of coffee and he tried to drink through the plastic stir stick. Black stars twinkle in the room and tears build in his eyes. 

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. 

There’s a shift as she adjusts her grip and it’s enough for the stars to clear. Buck throws himself forward, shaking his head like he isn’t a ragdoll trapped in the jaws of a rottweiler, like he has a hope of breaking free and then he does. The ghost is thrown off balance and Buck jumps, scrambling back over his bed for the stairs. He can’t even think about defeating her, finding out the secrets of where she came from, closing whatever fucking door he left open. All Buck wants to do is live. 

A force behind him swells like a wave to lift Buck off his feet and slams him into the bathroom door. He expects to slide off of it and onto the floor, but he’s held in place hard, his head turned and his cheek pressed to the wood, toes just brushing the ground. 

“You begged me to come,” the ghost hisses. “I’m here for you, lonely boy. Don’t fight so hard.”

A hand skims up his back, nearly gentle, but leaving a numbness in its path and Buck shudders in disgust. He jerks against the door, but his arms are wrenched behind him and he screams. He realizes it’s the first time he has.

“I didn’t call you! I don’t want you here! Get out.”

“I came because you needed me.” A long finger trails down his cheek and Buck whimpers. She’s taller than him now. Was she always? “I could feel you from so far away. An aching ball of need. I’m here for you now.” 

“I don’t need you,” Buck growls and the room flashes like lightning. He hopes to fall, almost expects to fall, where he can scramble again but instead, Buck is hurled away from the door completely. He has time to see that he’s above the stairs, throw his hands out uselessly and then he’s frozen. 

Buck hovers there in the air above the stairs, dangling in the grip of the ghost, like a cat grabbed by his scruff. Kicking wildly, he grabs for the invisible hand that’s holding him, yelling “No, no, no, no.”

“Need me now?” the ghost asks. 

Smothering the terrified part of him that nearly answers yes, Buck forces himself to stop twisting and just hang there. He doesn’t want to fall. He doesn’t want to die. But what he needs isn’t going to come from the ghost. 

“No,” he answers. 

And he can’t explain how he knows what her face looks like when it’s screwed up in fury, but he does. It’s vicious and vindictive and Buck’s not surprised at all when he’s flicked away from her and down the flight of stairs. 

He seems to hit each one as he falls, something that should be impossible with the speed that he’s traveling and the force with which he bounces off of them, but the ghost is obviously responsible. Air leaves his lungs as his ribs crack against the stairs. His elbows and knees scrape. His head bangs the rail. Buck’s long, long legs seem to tangle as he falls, cartwheeling him down and he lands in a heap at the bottom. 

As he tries to figure out if he can still move, the door flies open. 

Warmth rushes in. Buck hadn’t even realized how cold it had gotten since he first woke up, but the room seems to thaw around him. It’s like sunlight. 

It’s Eddie. 

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Evan. Buck. I’ve got you, Buck. I’ve got you.” 

Tenderly, he scoops Buck off the floor, unsnarling the mess of his limbs and feeling all over for the damage he can’t see. “I’ve got you. Open your eyes. Come on.” 

The ghost stands at the top of the stairs and then she’s at the bottom. Buck clambers backward again, digging his heels into the floor to push himself upright in front of Eddie, to try and hide him from view. Eddie doesn’t seem to see the ghost. All of his attention is still on Buck, stroking his hair, promising over and over that he’s there, that he has Buck. 

All of the ghost’s attention is on Buck too. “You need me,” she says. “You called for me.” She sounds different now. Bitter. Like Buck wasted her precious time. 

“I don’t need you,” he says and he reaches behind him to grab Eddie’s hand. “I already have everything I need.” 

Lights flicker and that impossibly loud sound bangs in Buck’s ears again. He gets one last look at the ghost’s vicious, violent visage and then she’s gone. 

And then Buck wakes up.

#whumptober2021 #No.6 #touch starved #no.30 #ghosts #fic #911 #strangulation #nightmares #beating #ghost fight #look idek #911fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #i can't stress enough that i have no idea what's happening here #does this ghost represent something? #she definitely should! #and yet! #she is but a misguided creature of the underworld! #there are 24 more prompt days left? #what if I'm not allowed to write more than 1000 words for any of them? #because whatever i'm doing now is unsustainable

[gyllenhaalstories]

HIGH HORSE — QUENTIN BECK

request:  what about fighting with quentin beck for the first time, after he's  been all smug and acting like he doesn't care about the reader and him  realizing after they leave that he needs them in his life real bad - so  he gets off his high horse for once and admits he cares about the  reader?  

warnings: canon divergent quentin (set in an alternate universe where quentin survived far from home), mentions of janice, guterman and a very out of character victoria, throwback scene (including violence, knives and manipulation), 18+, MINORS DON’T INTERACT.

word count: 1525

gif credit: winterswake

notes: i was listening to dark horse by katy perry, high horse by kacey musgraves, save your tears by the weeknd and the raya soundtrack? weird mix, but it takes what it takes to get the angst juices flowing. thanks for reading, remember to reblog!

“Next time you want to come up with a lame apology, I’d advise against asking Guterman to write it for you.” You finally broke the silence.

Quentin had just dismissed Janice for the next couple of hours, asking her nicely to change some part of his collar. You overheard her say something about knowing how to make the cape even more dramatic, and that was all the sweet talk Quentin needed to soften up and let her do her job without micromanaging.

You would never create a scene in front of Janice, she was sweet as pie. The fact he treated her with more kindness, patience and respect than he treated you made your blood boil. You blamed it on the piling up, the lies and the secrets. Your hands were deep under the water, in the sink. You toyed with your wedding ring, loosened up by the water.

“I don’t want to have this conservation again,” he scoffed.

“Again? You never let me finish it the first time.”

*~*~*

It was Victoria, another of his evil sidekicks, who had broken the news to you. He did not make it. His plan backfired, some kid had shot him.

You don’t remember much from this day, aside from Quentin insisting you did not follow them to London. Aside from Quentin renting a beautiful villa in Greece, where you were at that very moment. Aside from Quentin’s last promise to meet with you, after he shook the Queen’s hand of course.

You were so hopeful, you wanted nothing more than to see his pretty face. Instead, when you ran to open the door, it was Victoria who gave you one of her compassionate smiles. She was as great a liar as Quentin, as you. You could see right through her, although Quentin refused to believe that she was as twisted as him.

“They won.” She had told you, twisting the blade in the wound. It was just a game for her, for all of them. Except, for you, it was not. It was the life of your husband that was at risk (that part out of his origin story was true, it was the part both Hill and Fury fell for), the life of millions of innocent people who ignored just how far he would go to make his own dreams come true. “He fought like a King, it’s truly unfortunate he had to die a martyr.”

You squinted, taking in Victoria’s features. Her smile was turning into an evil smirk. She had one hand on your shoulder, the other one behind her back and before she could move any further, you shoved her against the wall. You saw a knife sliding on the tiles of the villa’s foyer, you rushed to grab it and point it towards her while you walked backwards, hoping the reach the balcony.

“You made him weak. He lost focus. We would be the masters of the world if you did not walk into his life and ruined everything for us. He was just a pawn for all of us, well, all except Janice.” She escaped her villainesque speech to roll her eyes, facepalming herself at the desperation of Janice to always check up on everybody and take care of everyone. Janice had loved you since the beginning, and it rubbed Victoria the wrong way.

Your back reached the railing of the balcony and you looked over your shoulder. You took a deep breath, your knuckles turning white from your grip on the knife. “I understand you, Vicky.”

The brunette frowned, snapped back to reality.

“He’s the charming type, isn’t he?” You noticed her repress a wave of laughter. “He sweeps you up, promises you to fly on a magic carpet and to show you a whole new world. You always wonder... Does he mean it this time? Is he being honest? Or is he smarter than we think?”

Her traits appeared softer.

"You say he’s a pawn, I say he’s the rook, except his ego gets in the way of the Queen. He’s quick and witty, though, can’t take that away from him. And next thing you know... He pulled out a checkmate behind your back.” You walked towards her, still the knife in hand. “I understand you can’t always get what you want, even if that’s all your heart desires.” You walked around her, so that she was now the one aiming towards the balcony.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Victoria said. “I could have given you the whole world.”

Your jaw clenched. You stepped even closer, so you could feel her breath on her skin. “Too bad I want the whole universe.”

With one swift movement, you pushed her off the railings and watched her as she fell practically in slow motion. You shook your head, deciding to deal with this turn of event later and rushed out of the villa. You could take the car she drove to the house with, and see for yourself if Quentin was the idiot they all believed he was. Dead because of a kid who’s obsessed with spiders? What was next, he would have consented to let Tony name his technology BARF? You knew him better than that. You knew him better than he knew himself.

By the time you reached the door, you heard the splashing sound of Victoria falling in the infinity pool, down there in the courtyard and let out a sigh. The knife, you left it on the bench and let your adrenaline guide you to your final destination.

*~*~*

“I was terrified. I was sick. I was losing hope.”

He looked in your direction, swallowing thickly.

“I waited months to see you, Quentin. To find you.” You washed another dirty glass, paying attention to the noise of his heavy costume squeaking and dragging on the floor while he approached you. You shook your head, and he listened, taking a seat by the kitchen island. “You left without hesitation. You left me without any hesitation.”

“I didn’t leave you.”

You chuckled and turned around, soap dish foam flying around as you spinned on your heels. “Oh, really? Then how come you didn’t even text me where you were hiding? How come you ignored all of my calls? How come you made Janice lie to me? Why were you avoiding me?” You dried your hands with a towel and approached him. “Why were you not searching for me all these months?”

These months he wasted trying to hide from everything, to play dead so that his plan would work out. These months he wasted putting his mission before his emotions first. These months he wasted waiting for the phone to stop ringing while you called him. These months he wasted stepping on his own pride and searching for help, for shelter, which he found in some abandoned head quarters of Stark industries that Tony and him used to build BARF years ago. The months he wasted trying to fix the broken pieces so you could see him as a hero again.

“I know I promised to be there for you through thick and thin, but some promises are meant to be broken.” Your voice cracked and words got stuck in your throat. The sight of his costume disgusted you, but the pain in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

“I love you.”

You forgot what these three words sounded like when he spoke them.

“I love you so much. More than this,” his arms gestured to show his costume, then moved around his head, meaning something bigger than the two of you. “All of this. It took me all this time to realize it.”

Checkmate.

“You deserve so much better. You deserve safety. You deserve comfort. You deserve to go out and not wonder if there’s a witch hunt trying to take you down.” He did not dry the single tear that was falling from his eye. “You deserve that stupid married life we always made fun of. The wine, the cardigans, the annoying kids running around. The only spider you should worry about is the one creeping on our ceiling.”

He was wrapping his arms around your waist, you helped him tighten his embrace.

“I’m sorry, for all the pain and danger I put you through.” You knew it came from his heart, and not from one of his rehearsed scenarios and speeches. “I’m sorry I failed you. You need a prince charming on a white horse and I’m just the royal buffoon.”

You chuckled, the sight alone lit up his whole face. “What I need is for you to get down your high horse. Go out, get some sun. Maybe you could shave, wear a cap and sunglasses. No one will recognize you, that’s how it works when you’re an undercover hero, right?”

“I don’t want to play the hero anymore.”

“Then, stop. Use those fish bowls you wear on your head to adopt gold fishes. Use the cape as a carpet. Kill Mysterio so that Quentin can live.”

He leaned against your hand, which was stroking his cheek.

“So that I can live with my Quentin again.”

#quentin beck imagine #quentin beck x reader #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal angst #jake gyllenhaal #quentin beck

[august-anon]

You know i gotta hop in on that Taakitz action!! Perhaps something with cold hands? Either them tickling Taako or Taako issuing retaliation tickles because Kravitz keeps sticking them on his warm body.

Admittedly at first I was like "when would this even be set because I thought his hands warmed up from the power of love" and THEN i remembered that there's at least a few months between the end of the last arc and that line at Carey and Killian's wedding, so there's a good time for this fic to take place lol. So they're dating, but there's no L-word just yet lol.

Also, thank you for the prompt, I loved it!

--

Fandom: The Adventure Zone: Balance

Ship(s): Taakitz

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Taako/Ler!Kravitz (brief Ler!Taako/Lee!Kravitz)

Word Count: 1736 words

Summary: Taako would love nothing more than to cuddle close with his boyfriend. Unfortunately, the heat of the kitchen and the chill of Kravitz's hands don't quite mix. Kravitz doesn't intend to give up so easily.

[ao3 link]

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

Taako smiled as he heard the front door open and close, but he didn’t move from his spot in the kitchen. He continued flitting between his pots and pans, preparing dinner, listening as Kravitz completed his routine and made his way through the house. By the time Kravitz made it into the kitchen, Taako had everything on a low simmer.

“Good evening, my dear,” Kravitz said. “Everything smells lovely.”

Taako hid a smile. “It better.”

Taako didn’t move away from the stove, even as he heard Kravitz prowl up behind him. He relaxed back into Kravitz’s chest as Kravitz’s hands came up to rest on his hips, humming as Kravitz pressed his lips to Taako’s shoulder.

“How long until dinner is finished?” Kravitz asked, his breath across Taako’s neck sending shivers down his body.

Taako hummed. “A little while. Why?”

He tilted his head to give Kravitz more access as his lips started trailing up Taako’s neck. He finally let the smile show, figuring that Kravitz wouldn’t be able to see it from his vantage point in Taako’s neck.

And then Taako shrieked and jumped away as Kravitz’s hands slipped up under his shirt to brush across his bare skin.

“Taako?” Kravitz asked, his hands still hovering in the air where Taako’s body had just been. “Babe?”

The warmth of the kitchen had soaked into Taako as he had cooked, leaving his skin overheated and sensitive to even a normal temperature. Kravitz’s cold hands felt worse than ice, sending a startling shock through his entire body.

“Cold!” Taako shrieked belatedly, rubbing at his sides.

Kravitz’s shoulders relaxed as he shook his head and chuckled. He started rubbing his hands together, as if the friction would be enough for Taako to let those hands come near him again.

“Don’t you come near me with those,” Taako said.

Kravitz raised an eyebrow, then smirked. “Taako,” he called teasingly, raising his hands as he crept toward Taako. “Come here, dear.”

Taako pointed at Kravitz, backing further away. “Kravitz…”

Kravitz lunged. Taako yelped, a frantic, high-pitched sound he would never admit to making under pain of death, and darted out of his path. Kravitz followed him, chasing him around the kitchen island and towards the dining table.  Whereas Taako had respect for the furniture Magnus had crafted for his and Kravitz’s home, Kravitz seemed to have no such concerns. While Taako ran around the edge of the table, trying to get to the far side, Kravitz pulled himself atop it.

Taako made a desperate bid for the archway leading toward the rest of the house, but Kravitz jumped off the top of the table, tackling Taako to the floor. Taako winced, prepared for pain, but Kravitz had carefully maneuvered them so that he took the brunt of the fall, Taako landing on top of him, back to chest. Taako gasped once he found his bearings, trying to escape Kravitz’s arms, but his grip was sure. He was well and truly stuck.

“Don’t you dare,” Taako said, hoping the grin stretching across his face didn’t come across in his voice. He had to appear stern, after all.

“Don’t what, darling?” Kravitz asked, his fingers teasing at the hem of Taako’s tunic. “I’m just trying to show my lovely boyfriend how much I care about him.”

Taako didn’t get a chance to retort, shrieking as Kravitz’s chilly hands slipped under his shirt once more. Taako squirmed under the freezing touch, grabbing at Kravitz’s wrists and trying to push him away. Kravitz laughed and fought to keep his hands on Taako’s skin.

“Taako-- come on, quit-- just let me--!”

Kravitz grabbed at Taako’s side in an attempt to keep his grip, squeezing at the flesh. Suddenly, Taako was squealing for a whole new reason. He kicked his legs frantically, trying to propel himself out of Kravitz’s grip.

Kravitz laughed again. “It can’t be that cold, Taako, dear.”

Taako didn’t say anything. He was perfectly content to let Kravitz believe that was the issue. If Taako had managed to hide his little weakness from Kravitz for this long, he could manage to hide it a little longer.

Except then, in all their squirming and tussling, Kravitz’s hands kept shifting and moving, squeezing and pinching at places with an unfair amount of sensitivity. It only made him squirm worse, which only led to Kravitz accidentally tickling him more. It was a vicious circle that Taako didn’t know how to escape.

Taako thought he would be able to hold out until Kravitz got bored. It wasn’t like he hadn’t gotten far worse from Magnus or Lup, or even Barry at times. Only then, Kravitz hands landed on his ribs, his nails scrabbling and scratching for purchase against Taako’s skin as he continued to squirm. Taako couldn’t help it, he burst out into squeaking laughter.

“No!” Taako cried out, though it was far too late.

Kravitz’s hands only faltered for a moment, before he let out a low chuckle directly against Taako’s ear, making his ear flick as he let out another squeal. His hands started scribbling against Taako’s ribcage a lot more deliberately, searching out tickle spots.

“I don’t think this about the cold anymore at all,” Kravitz murmured into his ear. “I think someone has been hiding something from me.”

“Kravitz, please!”

“Please what?” Kravitz hummed. “Please… warm up my hands using your warm, ticklish torso? It’d be my pleasure, my dear.”

Kravitz’s scratching nails managed to find Taako’s sweet spot, just above the middle of his ribs, slightly towards the back. Taako nearly screamed, despite the touch being so light and teasing, the buildup and taunting making everything so much more unbearable. He thrashed enough that he was able to escape Kravitz’s grasp at long last, throwing his dignity to the side as he tried to crawl away across the tile.

“Oh, Taako,” Kravitz called, starting to crawl after him. “I don’t think my hands are quite warm enough yet.”

“Don’t touch me,” Taako shouted back, still giggling at the phantom tingles dancing down around his torso.

Taako shrieked when he felt a cool hand wrap around his ankle, slowly tugging him back. The worst part was, Kravitz’s hands did feel warmer. It wasn’t fair. He kicked against Kravitz’s grip, managing to throw him off, and scrambled to his feet. He raced out of the kitchen, and he could hear Kravitz’s footsteps thundering after him.

“Taako,” Kravitz called after him, his voice cajoling and teasing. “Come back! I promise I won’t do it again.”

Taako didn’t need a Zone of Truth to know how big of a lie that was. He could practically feel those wiggling fingers looming over him already, more than prepared to seek out all of Taako’s sensitive spots until he was begging for mercy. Embarrassingly enough, it wasn’t an outcome Taako would necessarily mind, but he had a reputation to uphold, an appearance to upkeep, and despite his care for Kravitz, it still was not something he could give up so easily.

But he wouldn’t have to give up that control if he got Kravitz pleading, first.

Without a thought, Taako switched directions, barrelling toward Kravitz instead of running away. Kravitz yelped, an adorably startled sound that Taako was not blessed with often, and stumbled over himself trying to stop and avoid collision. A new grin rose to Taako’s lips, feral and hungry, and he tackled Kravitz back to the ground.

“Maybe this will teach you to go around sticking your cold, clammy hands on everyone,” Taako said.

He slipped his hands under Kravitz’s own shirt, dragging his nails down Kravitz’s chilly sides. Giggles bubbled out of Kravitz’s mouth even as he raised a hand to cover it, using the other to swat at Taako in a feeble attempt at self-defense. Taako laughed, high and unaffected, and gently pinched around Kravitz’s stomach.

“Perhaps I can be persuaded to be merciful,” Taako said. “If you told me where you’re most ticklish.” He lightened his tickling to let Kravitz respond with more ease.

“I’m not an idiot, Taako,” Kravitz said around his giggles. “I know better than to tell you that.”

Taako harrumphed. “Suit yourself.”

He dug his fingers back into Kravitz’s flesh, climbing up his sides and ribs. Kravitz cried out and tumbled back into laughter. His arms clamped down to his sides in an attempt to halt Taako’s ascent, leaving his laughing face in full view. Taako resisted the urge to swoon.

His eyes crinkled with his laughter, joy clear in every wrinkle. His smile was the most beautiful thing Taako had ever seen, Taako could barely bring himself to look at it since it was so bright. Taako didn’t even have words to describe how musical and magical Kravitz’s laughter was.

A certain L-word came to mind, looking at Kravitz like this. Taako refused to acknowledge it, for the time being.

Unfortunately, this all left Taako very distracted. While his tickling fingers hadn’t stopped, they had slowed considerably. It gave Kravitz ample time to gather his wits about him and slide his hands under the hem of Taako’s skirt. Taako screeched, both at the once-again-freezing hands and the ticklish massage his thighs were suddenly being assaulted with. He almost toppled right off Kravitz’s lap with his cackles, doubling over and ceasing his own tickling to try and push Kravitz off, as unsuccessful as it was.

“Distracted, my dear?” Kravitz asked, focusing his tickling on Taako’s inner thighs and making him gasp for air. “Clearly you don’t understand the position you’re in.”

While he continued tickling at Taako’s thighs with one hand, the other crawled up Taako’s body. Taako cursed how smart he was, how good his memory was, as his fingers quickly found that death spot on his ribs once more. Taako toppled forward, face-planting into Kravitz’s chest as he lost himself to his frantic laughter.

“Unfortunately,” Kravitz said directly into Taako’s ear, making it flick and flinch away from his ticklish breath, “my hands are still very cold. I think it may take a while to warm them up.”

Taako wailed with mirth.

“Good thing dinner won’t be ready for a while yet, hm?”

Taako knew he was in for a long evening. The only thing that would get Kravitz to stop would be his timers going off, and they still had plenty of time left before that happened. Kravitz was going to ruin him.

Taako couldn’t wait.

#tickle fic #My writing #taz tickling #taz:b tickling #lee!taako #ler!kravitz #ticklish!taako #taz #taz:b #Taako Taaco #taz kravitz #taakitz

[pokesaurio]

I find it hard to believe that New Amsterdam has such little fanfiction. It’s a great show! So I decided to write something for the Leyren ship (which I would usually never do) to fix this! Hope you enjoy :)

Summary: How the Dam Fam finds out about Lauren’s new roommate.

Helen:

“So, naturally, you offered her to live with you” said Helen sarcastically, incredulous at Lauren’s out of character decision.

“Well, yes, she has become my friend after all, and I couldn’t let her alone in the streets”, replied Lauren matter-of-factly.

“Hmm. And how’s it going?” Helen rose an eyebrow suspiciously.

“It’s...” Lauren let out a small sigh, “It’s effortless, really. I feel like she’s always been there”. The “which scares me” was left unsaid.

Helen patiently waited until Lauren disclosed more, knowing her friend usually needed more time to open up.

“Well, except for the massive tree in the middle of the living room. Which I don’t dislike, but...”

“What?!” This got Helen’s attention. Since when was Bloom known to decorate her apartments, let alone let another person do so... with living things?!

“Well, she bought a tree, said it reminded her of home. But apparently it was smaller in the picture, so now I have a full-blown tree in my living room. And I think I like it” that last part she muttered softly.

Helen let out a small, genuine smile, amused but also proud of her friend. “That looks like progress. You haven’t yet snapped her head off for touching your space, so I’d say that’s a point for Lauren’s intimate relationships”.

“Pfft. It’s not very intimate if I still don’t know about her. I have tried to learn what she likes, but she still won’t really tell me about herself. It’s a little frustrating really” Lauren let out an adorable pout.

“Well, give her time. She is living in a stranger’s house after all, in a new country and with probably no other connections or friendships here. I can’t imagine she trusts people easily” said Helen patiently.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Mama Bear is at it again. Free advice for all!” Lauren laughed.

Helen snorted. “Well, it’s taken me nowhere with Mina. Still don’t know how this motherly figure thing works, sadly” she stated defeatedly.

“Oh, come on! You’re doing great! She’s slowly respecting her school timetable and your curfews more, right? And she hasn’t put a massive tree in your living room. That has to count for something” said Lauren, pointing her finger at Helen as she walked towards her ED. “You’ve got this!” and she gave Helen her best thumbs up and exaggerated smile.

Casey:

Lauren haphazardly threw her stuff into her backpack and went for the door, ready to call it a day and head back home.

“Lauren, you’re rushing out” Casey said suspiciously as he entered the locker room. “I assume this means you’re gonna continue smuggling your friend here? Cause if it does, you should know you are risking even more than before. If they catch you again...”

“No, Casey, it’s not like that” Lauren stated. “Don’t worry, she won’t be coming back here”.

“So that means... you let her go? Do you know where she is?” said Casey, now concerned about Leyla’s wellbeing.

“She’s actually... living with me?” said Lauren, the last part coming out in a rush and higher pitch.

“What?” asked Casey, wide-eyed. “Lauren, she- what?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t leave her on the streets, and I figured since I’m never home it couldn’t hurt to give her my spare room” justified Lauren to what seemed like Casey and herself.

“Okay, Lauren, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, you are risking a lot for this stranger. Please be careful” said Casey, though not unkindly. He was just worried about his friend.

“But that’s just it, Casey. She’s not a stranger, not anymore, and I would have done the same for any one of you. I protect my people” said Lauren, now sounding much more convinced.

“Well, if you’re happy with your decision, I can only congratulate you. You finally have a friend outside of work!” he added with a smile, teasing Lauren.

Lauren swatted his arm playfully. “I forgot, Mr Popular here knows most of New York. And I might have one friend, but it’s a hard one” she said, giving him the finger.

“Okay, okay!” Casey laughed, raising his arms defensively. “You win. But Lauren” he said softly “I am happy for you. Just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing”.

“Thanks” said Lauren with a smile, squeezing his arm lightly as she left.

Lauren:

She did know what she was doing. Right. Right? It wasn’t like Leyla was a random stranger, not anymore, and she liked her enough that living together had been smooth sailing so far. So why did she find herself overthinking everything when it came to Leyla?

“Get your shit together, Lauren” she chanted to herself. She was driving home, her palms sweating slightly, but still excited to get there. She had been rushing out a lot lately. The memory of Leyla’s soft smile as she held her hand, fingers interlocking and fitting perfectly as they stared at the tree and Lauren’s want, need to be close, oh so close, a compass searching North. She couldn’t wait to get home to Leyla’s sarcasm, Leyla’s dinners, Leyla’s subtle presence in her apartment and life that made it theirs.

Without noticing, Lauren had been smiling like an idiot for at least half an hour, and she had arrived to her portal. She got out of the car and went for the stairs, taking twice at a time. But as she opened the door, a wave of disappointment washed over her. Leyla wasn’t home, had probably had to take a DriverTime client, and suddenly the apartment felt empty and cold again. Lauren couldn’t understand how she had lived like this for so long before.

But then a thought sprung to mind. Leyla had waited for her every day for the past week, staying up and meeting her with a fabulous home-cooked dinner after work. The least she could do was reciprocate, so Lauren got ready to prepare a mindblowing meal or die trying. Cooking had never been her strong suit, but she figured it couldn’t be too hard.

She remembered Leyla mentioning she deeply missed Pakistani cuisine, and how she had been disgusted by Lauren suggesting she try a Pakistani restaurant around the corner. “You Americans think you can serve a random dish and rebrand an entire culture. That place is not Pakistani”, she had stated. So Lauren had asked, and she had learned, how Nihari reminded her of late night dinners at home and Lassi was her all-time favourite beverage. And so she had a single thought in mind; today she was making the best Pakistani dinner for Leyla.

As she set out to spice the assortion of different meets, she re-entered her previous reverie. She knew Leyla would love this, even if Lauren was probably going to ruin the recipe and tarnish the Pakistani name. But Leyla would smile sweetly, as she did every time Lauren remembered a small detail about her and did her best to make her feel like home, and she would be grateful. Lauren could not wait until she came back, excited to see that look on her face that said “no one’s ever cared for me like this, and I’m glad you’re the first one”.

Slow-cooking the meat into a stew proved difficult, and mixing the yoghurt, water, spices and fruit for the Lassi had Lauren seriously questioning her cooking skills. But all in all, after about an hour she decided she had done a pretty good job. She set out to dress the table, going as far as opening a good red wine and placing a candle. She didn’t want to overdo it, but thought Leyla would decidedly not mind and find her efforts cute. Lauren was struck by the inclusion of “cute” into her vocabulary, could not remember when she had cared about someone’s reaction this much, and decided damn Leyla and her faint smiles had softened her. She couldn’t bring herself to care, though.

And just like clockwork, as soon as Lauren set the last plate with the fine-looking Nihari on the table, Leyla entered the apartment.

“Honey, I’m home!” she shouted jokingly in her beautiful accent.

“Hey! How was work? Any frat boys I should beat up?” said Lauren smiling.

“No frat boys, thankfully. Just an old lady telling me about her grandson. I must have seen like 30 photos of him, and let me tell you, no one can convince me babies are cute. They’re bald!” Leyla proclaimed, dignified.

Lauren snorted. “Of course you would befriend a grandma and have her show you her family. It must be your cranky charm” replied Lauren teasingly.

“You would be surprised. I cause sensation amongst octogenarians” said Leyla amusedly. As she caught the smell of cooked meat, she looked at Lauren, surprised. “You cooked? You? Is MY tree burnt down?” she joked.

“I’ll let you know, OUR tree is intact and very much still alive. And don’t you dare take away my custody, I love him like my own son too!” said Lauren in mock dignification. “I did cook, and I hope you like it” she continued, now softly. She met Leyla’s eye, hope and wonder sparkling bilaterally.

Leyla approached the table, repressing a squeel of excitement at the site of her favourite foods. “Lauren! You shouldn’t have! How did you even-?” and as she turned around to look at Lauren, the intensity in her eyes stunned her. The amount of care and adoration was palpable there, and it was enough to overwhelm her.

“Thank you”, she said in a small voice.

“I thought you deserved something special. You know, for cooking horrible meals every day” Leyla approached her slowly, still with eyes locked in an intense duel. “You would think as a doctor my main threat of illness would come from my patients, but you make a hard run for it” another step closer. “And besides, knowing my cooking skills it’s probably very bad. So we’re even” she continued rambling. Leyla finally took the final step towards Lauren, cupping her cheek and forcing her to shut up.

“You talk too much”, she said, resting on her tiptoes slightly to reach for her cheek and place a soft kiss there. “Thank you, truly”.

Lauren stood there, transfixed and unable to utter words. “Y-Yeah. It’s... nothing, really” she managed to muster.

Leyla tried to fight off a smile at Lauren’s awkwardness. During the course of her stay at Lauren’s- their- apatment, she had been quick to discover that she could turn Lauren, the hard-assed doctor and witty friend, into a rambling mess with well placed silences and touches. And naturally, she had immediately taken a liking to doing so as often as possible.

She turned around and sat at the table, staring down at her food and trying not to show her satisfaction at the amount of time it took Lauren to recompose herself and sit with her. She let Lauren pour some wine for herself, seeing as she didn’t look too enthused with the Lassi, and tried the Nihari. And, oh god, it certainly wasn’t like the one she enjoyed back home, but Lauren had undoubtedly achieved something here. Leyla couldn’t stop a moan from escaping her lips.

Lauren sat across from her, lips parted, staring at her like she was the only thing in the world. Her eyes slowly trailed to her lips, and Leyla thought she might burst if she didn’t break the moment soon. “Lauren, it’s- it’s perfect” said Leyla, and she meant it. It might not be like the one back home, but Lauren had managed to capture a new flavour, to redefine the very meaning home. She could get used to this.

Lauren looked back up at her, smile back in place. “Really? That’s new” she said, satisfied and proud of her achievement.

As they ate in silence, Lauren realised two things. One, she was definitely falling in love with Leyla Shinwari. And two, while Leyla had been her roommate for a few weeks already, it was only now that she felt like they were actually _living_ together... building a home.

Iggy:

“Hey, Iggs! I haven’t caught up with you in a while! How’s everything going?” asked Lauren as she entered Iggy’s office, taking the sofa and sprawling out on it.

Iggy stopped flicking through his charts, immediately knowing something was up. He could tell Lauren was properly glowing, but knew he would have to let this play out if he wanted to get any information out of his friend.

“Lauren! It’s great to see you. I’ve been great. I went to see a nutritionist, and I’ve been trying to join some virtual support groups for people with eating disorders. I still have a long road ahead of me, and I have to put in the work, but thanks for calling me out on my bullshit. Truly” he said sincerely.

Lauren perked up even more, rising to her feet and reaching around Iggy’s desk to hug him. “Iggy! That’s great! I’m so glad to hear it, and I’m so proud of you. And hey, you called me out on my bullshit when I was using, so it was only fair I did the same” she smiled.

Iggy returned her smile, glad to see that both of them were making amends and working to improve their lives.

He rose up to start walking to his next consult, not wanting this conversation to end but really needing to get there on time. After Lauren followed him along, curiosity finally got the best of him. “Okay, I have to ask... What’s gotten into you? You look like you just got to perform one of your supper cool surgeries or something. Anything new?” he asked.

“Well, I’m doing well” she said as they strolled down New Amsterdam’s corridors. Iggy waited patiently, letting Lauren open up at her own speed. “And... and I got a roommate!”

Iggy frowned, perplexed. He knew Lauren, knew how much she valued her space and how closed-off she could be, so he couldn’t fathom why getting a roommate would be something she’d want to do, let alone be the cause of her exuberant joy. “Wha... How?” he asked.

“Well, it’s a long story, really. She came in with a patient, and kind of guessed what was wrong with her, but it turned out it wasn’t a guess, cause she’s really a doctor, but obviously I didn’t know that” she started rambling, with Iggy finding it hard to follow along.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down” he said, though he was glad to see Lauren so excited about something.

“Yeah, sorry. Basically, she pulled off a successful needle decompression in my ED, which I now admit was pretty cool, I called security, she had no place to stay, used the hospital closet for a while... And now she’s living with me” finished Lauren, looking way too satisfied by her explanation.

“She... You... What?!” asked Iggy, dumbfounded.

“Yeah... She’s kind of a lot. In the good way” said Lauren, and it was clear to Iggy by now that she was positively smitten. At this new information, he changed tactics.

“Wow, Lauren, that’s a huge step! I’m happy for you, and so proud. I’d love to meet her sometime” he said.

“Yeah! That’d be great! I’m sure you’d love her, once you get past her cranky façade. You two would totally get along” replied Lauren excitedly.

Iggy knew how possessive Lauren was of her space, knew how much it meant for her to have friends meet even if she may not do it consciously. The fact that she was agreeing to let him meet her meant he was right; Lauren was smitten beyond recognition.

“Great! And what’s it like, living with this...” he trailed off, hoping to get a name out of Lauren for once.

“Leyla! It’s great. Yesterday I cooked her some Pakistani dinner, cause she missed it from back home, and then we watched a comedy and watered our big-ass tree. Don’t ask. It’s like she’s lived with me all along” she finished bashfully.

And Iggy had to assume Lauren knew how this sounded, how many lesbian stereotypes she was ticking off. So he replied, amusedly, “Tell me, Lauren, does this Leyla know you two are dating?” he said, a mischiveous twinkle in his eye.

Lauren stopped abruptly in the corridor, a horrified look on her face. Iggy repressed a laugh, was thrilled by Lauren’s new baby-gay side. He turned around to look at her, saw her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as she searched for a reply, but continued walking backwards. “Wait... do you?” he asked, now enjoying Lauren’s alarmed look. He turned around a corner, leaving a dumbfounded Lauren behind, and shouted, “Good luck!”

#leyren #lauren bloom #leyla shinwari #lauren x leyla #manifesting bi bloom #five stars #bloomwari

[qvackityhq]

Mine [18+ GeorgeNotFound x Reader]

Hi guys! This is another GeorgeNotFound x Reader one shot that was requested by Anonymous! Disclaimer: This story contains NSFW content in which the characters engage in sexual activities and is intended for mature (18+) audiences! That being said, I hope you guys enjoy and as always, requests are open and you can send them in here! (This is a George x Female Reader one shot by the way!) [: — Froggie♡

Mine 

(I highly suggest listening to the song Mine by awfultune while reading this, as I was listening to it while writing this!)

It started like this: You and George were next door neighbours growing up. You always found yourselves fighting with sticks that you would pretend were swords in his tree house, or travelling the neighourhood on your bicycles in search of any new land to conquer. And since you were neighbours, that also meant the two of you went to the same school. Throughout your whole elementary school years, the two of you were inseparable; attached at the hips, they would say.

It wasn’t until middle school when the two of you began to part ways. George wanted to hang out with the boys his age; “It’s embarrassing only hanging out with a girl, Y/N!” He would say. And so you let him go. The bicycle rides came to an end, and you can’t remember the last time you stepped inside the treehouse. But that was okay; George was happy with his new friends, and you should be, too.

It continued like this: You and George haven’t talked in ages. The both of you were now in your senior year of high school, weeks away from graduating and all going your separate ways. Separate ways. 

“And so you all need to order your caps and gowns before this Friday so we get all the orders in!” Your principals voice rang throughout the auditorium. “It won’t be long until you’re all going your separate ways!”

And there it was again: separate ways. And as your eyes met a familiar brown pair that is sat rows away from you for just a split second, you realised that you were all too familiar with going separate ways.

It remains like this: It’s the last Saturday before graduation and you receive a text from an unknown number. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you unlocked your phone and examined the message.

Hey, is this Y/N?

Do you reply? Do you not reply? Maybe it’s just one of your girl friends who got a new number. So, you decide to reply with a casual: Yes (: Who’s this?

The text gets delivered and you wait. And wait. And wait. Until finally, an hour later, you get a reply back. 

This is George, I was wondering how you were doing. You read the reply over and over again, taking in every single word. There was no way this was really George, the two of you haven’t spoke in ages. Why is he just now reaching out?

You find yourself typing a reply, however, and hitting the send button as soon as you finish. I’m doing alright.. How are you?

And this time, you get a response almost instantly that read: I’m alright. You going to Dream’s party tonight? 

You bite at your lip as you read the text. You had been invited by Dream himself to attend this end-of-the-year party, but when he asked you told him it wasn’t your type of thing. But now... You feel like you had to be there. So, you texted George telling him you would be there and locked your phone again. You felt your heart begin to race with nervousness, but you quickly shrugged it off and began getting ready to go to this party.

You had to make sure you looked your best, you thought to yourself, and then paused. Looked your best? For who? For George? You shook your head at the intrusive thoughts, and continued to get dressed and ready for the night.

A little bit after 11:00pm, you find yourself examining your outfit and makeup in the mirror. And in all honesty--You thought you looked good. So, you grab your phone and keys and head outside to your car. You feel the nerves coming back as you begin driving to Dream’s house, and they only worsen the closer you get to the home.

When you arrive, the party had already been going on for about and hour. So, you find a parking spot that’s down the road a bit and get out. Even from down the road, you can hear the sound of bass from the music and the loud bickering of your peers. As you finally approach the front door after pushing past some of your classmates; you are met face to face with a drunken Dream, who of course was wearing some random mask he had from Halloween.

“Ohhh, Y/NNNN,” He slurred out, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into the crowded house. “Gogy was lookin’ for ya! Did you find him?” He spoke to you, breath lingering of alcohol. You scrunched your nose up a bit as you shook your head.

“No, I just got here!” You shouted to him over the loudness of the music mixed with yelling and singing. Dream then just pointing to the kitchen before removing his arm from around you and stumbling off to who knows where.

You slowly made you way to the kitchen; the feeling of not belonging filling your chest as you looked around at all of the people you knew but didn’t know all interacting with each other. And as soon as you entered the kitchen, your eyes met the familiar brown pair again.

You freeze in your spot as you watch the taller boy begin to make his way over to you, and you could tell from the way he stumbled a bit over his feet that he had been drinking, too.

“Y/N,” is the only thing he says as he now stands in front of you, mixed drink in hand and a grin on his red-bitten lips.

“George,” You reply back, raising an eyebrow at him as you examine him from head to toe. His dark brown hair was matted to his forehead with sweat, eyes and cheeks a bit red from drinking, and clout goggles hooked onto his shirt. He looks a mess, you thought to yourself.

“You look.. Stunning,” He tells you and you watch as his brown eyes now look your body up and down and then up again. “I’m glad you made it,” he then says, and you can’t tell if this is him or the alcohol talking.

“Well, thank you,” You say, a slight blush forming on your cheeks, “Why’re you so glad?” 

“Because I was hoping you’d like to catch up, you know, before we all go our separate ways.” And damnit, there it was again. It’s as if you can never escape it.

You slowly nod your head though, because you long for this; you’ve missed George so much. And you watch as his grin widens when you nod your head and he grabs a drink from the counter and pushes it into your hands before motioning for you to follow him.

And you do. You follow him as he pushes through the crowd of the first floor, you follow him up the stairs, and you follow him into an empty bedroom, where he stumbles over to unlock and open the window before taking a seat on a chair that was place in front of the bed.

“I hope you don’t mind, it’s just too fucking loud down there,” He laughs, and you slowly shake your head no as you take a seat on the bed. “So, Y/N? What’ve you been up to? What are your plans for after high school?” George asks you.

And you want to tell him how you’ve been missing and longing for him over the past years, but instead you go on about how you’ve joined the photography club your freshman year and have been in there ever since, and how you plan to go to a college an hour away from home to attend their photography program. You watch him listen and nod his head, and it seems as if he actually... cared.

And then it fell into a silence for a moment before George finally spoke up: “I’ve really missed you, Y/N.” And when he said that, the whole feeling in the room seemed to change. Your eyes locked onto George’s and you find yourself whispering, “I’ve really missed you, too, George..”

And now he’s standing from the chair, sitting his drink down on the desk, and making his way over to where you’re seated on the bed. He’s now standing in front of you, eyes glimmering and filled with... lust? Passion? Alcohol? You couldn’t put a name on it before he’s pressing you back onto the bed and joining you on the soft mattress.

You find yourself staring up at him, except this time you take in how beautiful this man was. His whiskey brown eyes that had a light to them, along with the dozens of light freckles that dusted his nose and cheeks, and the way his mouth was slightly gaped open, and the way that he smelt of a mixture of alcohol and musky cologne. 

————— SMUT STARTS HERE!  —————

You feel his hand push a strand of your hair out from in front of your face before he’s leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. It started off curiously; the two of your lips moving slowly together before George presses in; deepening the kiss and his hands moving to feel more of your body.

When he pulls away, it’s only to take a breath and ask you, “Is this okay?” He sounded like the George you used to know—always caring and not overstepping any boundaries. All you could do was nod, however, as it felt like your voice was stuck in your throat. Is this a dream? There’s no way this is happening. Your skin felt so hot wherever his hands touched, but it felt so good.

And you feel George shift and you watch as he adjusts so that he’s sitting up; hands moving from your body to quickly to slip his shirt off over his head. Your mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape as you examine his naked torso sefishly, and you can’t help but run your hands down his chest; stopping only once your fingertips hit the top of his trousers.

A smirk play on the boy’s pink lips as he reaches down to slide your own shirt off; his eyes landing on your chest as he drops your shirt to the ground. You feel his hands move to caress your breasts in them; his thumbs brushing over the hardening nubs of your nipples. You couldn’t hold back the soft moan at the feeling and you visably watched George’s eyes darken at the sound.

“Holy shit, I want to hear that again,” George breathes out, leaning down to press kisses down your jawline and neck until he reaches your collarbone; nipping at the skin there to leave his marks.

You feel him press himself down between your thighs, and you could feel how aroused he was through the leggings you decided to wear to attend the party. As George continues to mark up your skin, you slowly run your hand down and between your two bodies to cup his half-hard cock in your hand, rubbing it through his trousers.

A low moan escapes his lips and vibrates against your neck as he does so, and George finally pulls away and scooches back on the bed to be able to pull your leggings off, as well as your panties, to leave you fully exposed. You watch his eyes look you up and down and up again, for the second time that night, but this time it was in a whole new light.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful,” He breathes out as his eyes continue to examine your naked body. He places his hands on your inner thighs to push them apart, and he makes eye contact with you before dipping his head down to drag his tongue between the folds of your pussy. You clamp your thighs against his head at the feeling, carding a hand through his hair to grip his hair and give it a tug. The boy begins to lick and suck at your pussy before pressing his tongue inside of you, pressing his face in as close as possible to ensure his tongue is as far as it will go.

“George..” You moan brokenly, your eyes fluttering shut as he continues to eat you out. He then slowly pulls away after a few moments, lips coated with his spit and your juices.

“I can’t wait anymore, you look too beautiful,” He breathes out, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist before removing his own trousers and underwear. You take this sight of George in: You’ve never seen him in this light, and you never thought you ever would. You were about to thank him for his words, but before you could do so, you feel his fingers being placed between your folds and you gasp at the touch, another moan escaping your lips. 

George begins rubbing your clit slowly; massaging the nub for a moment before he presses a long finger inside you, slowly pumping it in and out before adding another. You can’t help but moan every time his fingers hit just the right spot every time he presses them in, and you watch as he spits down onto his dick before beginning to pump his own dick. You bite your lip roughly before pushing his hand away from himself and replacing it with your own, and you relish in the moan George lets out as you begin to jerk him off.

And, of course, right as you’re about to reach an orgasm, George’s fingers stop moving and he removes them; licking up your juices as he holds eye contact with you.

He then remove your hand from his dick, staring down at you with darkened, lustful brown eyes as he asks you one more time, “Is this okay?”

And you nod, because you don’t think you could ever resist this. You’re hands find their way to George’s hair; fingers curling in the soft, yet sweaty, locks and pulling his head down to yours again. This time you’re the one to kiss with the passion and hunger, your legs hooking around his hips as you try to draw him in.

Your lips part ever so slightly as you feel George’s hand slide between your two bodies to grip his dick once again, but this time to guide it inside of you. You couldn’t hold back the moan of George’s name as he slowly pressed himself inside you, and your hands began to rake your fingernails down his back.

“Jesus, Y/N,” George breathes lowly as he finally presses all the way inside. Suddenly, the two of you weren’t people going their separate ways anymore, but now were as close as two people can get.

You feel his lips back on your neck as he slowly begins to form a rhythm of thrusting in and out of you. It feels so good, you think, and when he began picking up speed with his thrusts, you began to let go.

“Oh, fuck, George!” You moan out, louder this time, and he moves so he can grip the headboard above your head to help him be able to fuck you harder and faster. You roughly drag your nails down his back, leaving your own marks on his pale skin, as you moan with every thrust.

“You’re such a good girl for me, Y/N,” He grunts out, looking down at you. He was roughly biting at his bottom lip, sweat dripping down his forehead and chest. “Such a good baby,”

It didn’t take long before that pooling feeling began to form in your lower stomach again, and with one last more of his thrusts that hit just the right spot, your back arched up as you screamed his name; your orgasm finally hitting and your hands moving up to pull at his hair again.

This only made George fuck you harder; thrusts slowly but hips snapping up against your own as he moaned out, “I’m gonna cum, baby,” And with one last jerk of his hips and his cock buried deep inside you; he came with a moan of your name.

All that could be heard was the sound of both of your heavy breathing, the music from the party disoriented in the background. George then began to slowly pull out of you, eyes on your pussy as he watches his own cum ooze out of you. He smirked at the sight, leaning down to capture your lips with his own one last time before he was standing up and telling you, “I’m going to get you a cloth,” before disappearing into what you presumed was an attatched bathroom.

And after a couple minutes, George returned with a wash cloth and helped you clean yourself up. Your thighs were shaking with overstimulation as he also helped you dress yourself, and one he was fully dressed himself, he found his way back onto the bed to lay down next to you.

You couldn’t tell if he was still drunk, but he offered you a sober-looking smile before reaching a hand out to push the hair out of your face once again before pulling you close again. And in this moment, it felt like as if he never left your side; as if he’s been around the whole time. And it was unspoken, but both of you knew there was a lot to talk about after this night was over and you both we completely sober. Like the topic that George didn’t think to use protection.

FIN

#please do not FUCKING HATE ME FOR THIS #georgenotfound #georgenotfoundxreader #georgenotfound x reader

[twdmusicboxmystery]

11x02: Acheron, Part 2 - Analysis

Okay, let’s talk 11x02. And 11x01. Because it’s a two-part episode, it’s important to consider them together. I have a LOT to say about what’s going on in these two episodes, so I’ll have plenty to post all week. Let’s dive in!

***As always, spoilers abound below for TWD 11x02. Don’t read until you’ve watched! You’ve been warned!***

Maggie

The first thing we see is a point of view from under the train car. The instant I saw that, I knew how things would go. I never thought Maggie would die (if nothing else, there are scenes with her in the trailer we haven’t seen yet) but I was curious as to how she would survive. When I saw this POV, I knew she’d end up crawling under the train. Just as Glenn crawled under the dumpster. Massive parallels to Glenn. Which by extension, massive parallels to Beth. Major resurrection theme.

It's also important that when she reappears, she comes from underneath the car. Obviously, that’s logical given that she crawled underneath the car, but they make a point of asking if the pounding is coming from the roof. Gabriel says no and then they open the bottom hatch for her. Her coming up from the ground like that is a visual representation of a resurrection.

So we see Gabriel, Negan and the others enter the train car. The spatial details here are important, and I had to watch the episode twice to get them all straight. It’s a little confusing the first time. So, the group jumps down into the train car through a hatch in the roof because they couldn’t get the door open in the last episode. The thing is, if you watch closely, you come to realize they’re not in the train car on the end. They must have walked along the roof for two or three cars before finding a hatch that let them in.

So, when Gauge shows up, he comes behind them, and that confused me because I was thinking they came from that direction. And they did, but they entered through the roof, not the door. Anyway, they can’t get the door open. So honestly, even if they’d tried harder, I’m not sure they could have saved him.

This scene accomplished a lot of things, character-wise, that we need to touch on. It’s important to note that Gauge’s death happened due to his own choices. Does that mean he “deserved” to die or that they shouldn’t have tried to save him if they could have? Of course not. No on both counts. But that doesn’t change the fact that his choices sealed his fate.

It's especially interesting that he called Maggie a Liar. Not only is that a throwback to the Governor, but it’s a particular type of mentality they’re showing here. Even the fact that he didn’t shut the door behind him is really interesting. My first thought was to be annoyed with him. Why WOULDN’T you shut the door. You live in this world. You know better. But it’s all ego. He can’t imagine something bad will happen. He just assumes if it does, someone will save him.

But the most telling thing was how angry he got before saying Liar. It just shows very much how he approaches life. When he messes up, he doesn’t feel bad, and accept that it was his fault, and try to learn from it. No, instead he gets pissed and blames everyone but himself and his own actions.

If this had been Daryl or Gabriel or Alden or any of our other heroes, they would have recognized that opening the door would have gotten their friends and family killed and would have sacrificed themselves. Especially if they realized they’d screwed up. But Gauge became angry and defiant, even killing himself.

Anyway, I’m rambling. This really has nothing to do with Beth or TD other than perhaps being a future template for something. But I thought it was a really fascinating character sketch.

The thing is, this isn’t really a matter of Gauge being wrong and everyone else being right.

Maggie is…not doing so well either. As I told my fellow theorists, Paola Lazaro said in TTD last week that Maggie was kind of off the rails. I think she said that a little prematurely, because we really didn’t understand Maggie’s state of mind just by watching 10x17 and 11x01.

It's not until she tells that messed up story about the house she found and the people in it that we understand that her state of mind really isn’t at its healthiest. Even saying she wanted to kill Negan before is…understandable given their past. But it makes more sense now why Negan is so nervous. He’s sensing her state of mind that her moral conscience isn’t as strong as it once was, so of course he’s fearful for his life.

I don’t know where they’re going with this Maggie story line, but I have a feeling this attitude of hers will cause conflict down the road. Several of my fellow theorists believe it will cause a rift between her and Daryl. And we can see that somewhat through Alden. At first, he was very much defending Maggie, especially against Negan. He has a lot of loyalty to her. But he didn’t like her abandoning Gauge, and you can see his loyalties starting to waver.

At the very least, what she said about not feeling anything about it is the opposite of what Beth always stood for. Daryl was trying hard not to feel things during Still, in the wake of the prison going down. She made him feel things because that’s the only way a person is truly living, rather than just surviving. Now Maggie is in that state of mind.

And I’m gonna argue that makes it a prime time for Beth to return to help her. But of course I’m completely objective over here. ;D

Maggie’s Story:

Maggie’s story was definitely dark and horrible, but interesting to analyze. I’m assuming there was cannibalism going on there. That’s why the missing limbs. The men in the house were eating the female prisoners. No only a callback to Terminus, but remember that Bob’s leg was taken for food, so I’m sure that’s what we’re supposed to infer here.

She talked about no eyes, no tongue, no limbs, vocal cords ripped out. So definitely the see no evil, speak no evil themes. With the limbs, it’s also a matter of not being able to escape or save themselves.

In terms of the plot, I do have one question about this that I think may be significant. Maggie first talks about three deformed people (she says, “I wouldn’t call them men”) coming toward her. She kills them, and only after that hears the noise from the attic.

My question is, why were they deformed? If they’re “men,” then they must be at least Maggie’s age, if not older, which means they’ve been around since before the apocalypse began. Even eating human flesh doesn’t cause one to become deformed, so why the deformities? I have no idea, but I wondered if there is a radiation theme going on here. Something they’re hinting at, but not saying. Just thought that was intriguing.

After that, things go sideways and everyone almost dies until Daryl arrives to save the day. So, let’s skip to his story.

Daryl:

We first see him bust through a wall with Dog. So, dog took off in the last episode, but the first time we see Daryl, he’s already found Dog again. At least, the first time. This is where he sees the murals on the wall, the walker with the handcuff and the suitcase of money, etc. I already talked about most of that in great detail HERE, so I won’t rehash it, though it’s very important.

One thing I will say about the mural is that thematically, it’s a match to Still. So, in the golf club, we had lots of rich people who clearly hid there when the world first went bad. And I don’t remember this particularly, but several of my fellow theorists have told me they remember the TTD after Still and that the writers talked about how the golf club was a statement about the class system. You have these very rich people, but their wealth couldn’t save them. Death, walkers, the apocalypse…none of these things discriminate based on wealth or position.

On the wall, we see people with crowns standing at the top, but below, they are homeless, and one of them is being attacked and torn apart. Meanwhile, Daryl sees a line of text that says, “it comes for us all,” probably meaning death.

Well, guess what? Angela Kang, in talking about the murals, said that this, too, was a statement about the class system. So thematically, this is meant to be a parallel to Still.

It’s just interesting to contemplate because if you think about it, most of our heros—Rick, Daryl, the Greene family, etc—weren’t at all wealthy. Rick was humble and well-grounded. Hershel worked hard his whole life and never had any glory or fanfare. And then there’s Daryl, who was “nothing. No one.” They all survived.

So of course it’s a socioeconomic statement, but it’s also one about mindset. It takes not only grit to survive this world, but a certain amount of humility. Ego always gets you killed eventually, as it did with Gauge.

I’ll also mention that I thought the guy with the crown who was being torn apart was being set upon by walkers, but AK says they’re specifically not walkers. They’re people.

So, it’s not a coincidence that we see this juxtaposed with the Gauge situation. His ego gets him killed and we literally see him being torn apart because of it.

Moving on.

Daryl finds a bag with a $100 bill with a letter written on it. This is a massive TD clue from start to finish. 100 is an important number. The hundred dollar bill features Benjamin Franklin on the front and Independence Hall on the back. Look either of those up and you’ll find lots of fun parallels we could point to. I won’t go into all that today except to say it’s definitely part of the Revolution theme.

This is what’s written on the bill Daryl finds:

“Dear Dad, you always said if you don’t come back in a week to move on. Mom didn’t listen and went looking. It’s been three weeks, so we’re going next. I’ll watch Jesse and turn on the radio every day at 10. See you both soon. Love Tom and Jesse.”

He also finds a picture of two kids. So, the “three weeks” jumps out because of Rick’s line in 5x10, “it’s been three weeks since Atlanta.” It’s also about missing family members, going searching for them, etc. Possibly important that the mom is also missing. I can’t help but think of the song from Still. “Our mother has been absent, every since we founded Rome…”

There is a 10 in there, which is an important number. The turning the radio on every day is both the radio/airwaves theme (also a line from the song) but a callback to Rick and Morgan and their walkie talkies. So, really interesting symbols here.

The two kids immediately reminded me of Noah’s twin brothers. I don’t think these two are supposed to be twins. I’m assuming the brother is older. But still obviously siblings. And it hearkens back to the last episode Beth was technically in. Which also had a lot of the CRM/Revolution theme in it. (X, X).

AK says this family probably didn’t make it, so I’m not expecting these kids to show up in the narrative. But it’s also important to note that the little girl is carrying the toy rabbit Maggie found earlier. So the rabbit also ties into all this symbolism. (P.S. I didn’t get to my rabbit post last week. I planned on it, but time got away from me. I should get it posted later this week.)

So, this is massive in terms of TD symbolism. I’ll talk about it fits into the bigger narrative in a minute.

Then Daryl kills the sleeping bag walker. I wasn’t sure the significance of this at first, but I think it ties to the tents and sleeping bags we saw in Atlanta in 5x06, Consumed. Daryl and Carol passed them while looking for Beth. So, this just shows us that this is tied to her storyline and Daryl searching for her.

You could also argue that the walker was “hidden” at first, and it’s significant that Dog found it/realized it was there before Daryl did. 

The other thing is that as he’s looking at the sleeping bag walker, there’s a random shoe on the ground next to it. Missing Shoe/Foot theory, which is also indicative of Beth. 

They hear another roaring sound and Dog takes off, running into the dark tunnel.

Here’s the thing. I think most people will assume the roar he heard was just more air being forced through the tunnels by the storm, as Alden explained it in ep 1. But I always watch with the subtitles on and I noticed at this part, the subtitles said, “Man Roaring.” So they actually did hear someone screaming. And that’s probably why Dog ran toward it.

After watching it again, I realized it’s probably supposed to be Roy. He’s the white-haired guy, played by C. Thomas Howell, who Daryl finds wounded after he emerges from the Tunnel. I think whatever happened to him when he went topside but then got attacked by walkers is what Dog heard and went running toward.

Maybe not terribly significant in the plot, but it’s important symbolically. Because once again we have something Daryl hears from a distance but doesn’t see. Dog (a proxy for Beth) runs toward it, and Daryl follows. When he does, he find someone who had previously separated from the group. They’re hurt, but alive. See the parallels?

I will say the Roy situation confuses me just a little. He’s clearly hurt, and when Daryl tries to bandage him, he refuses, saying, “just tell my kids I didn’t die a coward.” But then later he’s with the group, all bandaged up, and seems to be okay. (He dies when they reach the Reapers by taking an arrow to the head, so he still dies overall.) But it’s just weird that it seemed he would die, then seemed he was fine again.

It may well be something that foreshadows a future situation, and that’s why it’s not making tons of sense right now. Only time will tell.

Anyway, I kind of glossed over Daryl crawling through the dark tunnel. I don’t have much else to say about it except that it’s a SUPER potent symbol for Beth’s arc and very important that he emerges on the other side and finds this person. Annnd then goes to save TF. (Dark Tunnel Symbolism).

So, he hears the gunshots and finds the train they’re on. He comes up behind the walkers attacking them from the front, kills them, moves the bench blocking the door, and lets everyone through. Then he uses a grenade to blow up all the walkers. (Ew.)

After that they all get out of the tunnels and go topside. The next scene is also super important. We see the stars above. That’s partly to show that the storm has passed now, but also constellations = Sirius.

Maggie asks what he has and he tells her about it. There is one weird moment in this scene. When she tells them about the supply depot she wants to stop at, she says Georgie (from S8) set it up for emergencies, for people on the outside to use. When it says this, the camera focuses on Daryl for a LONG moment, and he looks almost sad. I’m not sure what they’re trying to tell us there.

Anyway, they all head out. Unfortunately, when they reach the right neighborhood, the Reapers are there to meet/kill them. And Roy is the first to go.

So, a couple of things here. I’ll probably do a details post because I’m leaving out MOST of the background details throughout the episode, and there are a lot of them. Lots of details to be gleaned in this scene.

But the second time I watched it, I was struck by the people hanging upside down. Obviously a grim sight, but it occurred to me that these people hanging this way look a LOT like the deer diagrams from Scars. Let me show you some pictures:

Top pick is 11x02. Middle and bottom one are from Scars.

See what I mean? So, chances are something about Scars foreshadowed the Reapers, which is interesting. They clearly see human beings in a certain way (as animals to be strung up and…perhaps eaten?) And that makes me think that what Maggie found in that house may tie into the Reapers as well. Just kind of interesting foreshadows of coming plots.

Eugene:

Let’s talk Eugene and then I’ll shut up for today. Eugene’s stuff was very intriguing. First thing you need to know. And understand, I didn’t know this. @wdway​ pointed it out. Some months ago, the actress cast as “Stephanie” was announced. This is her:

And that’s clearly not the woman who steps into the train car at the end. Which means this isn’t really Stephanie. She’s a decoy. In fact, the actress from this episode is billed on IMDb as “woman 2,” not as “Stephanie.”

Knowing that, if you go back and re-watch the parts with Eugene’s group, they mean something very different.

On the surface, it seems that Zeke, Yumiko and Princess are taken away in a sinister fashion. Then Eugene melts down and tells his story. (Note: while he focuses on his feelings for Stephanie and I think most of that is true, he still says he lied both to her and to his friends about being from a large settlement. So, he’s still keeping large chunks of the truth from them.)

Again, on the surface it seems that they accept his explanation and just decide to allow them all in. All the stuff with the other three is just a misunderstanding.

But if “Stephanie” is a decoy, that can’t possibly be the case. I think Zeke and the others told Eugene the truth as they know it, but they’re all still being manipulated.

After Princess left to pee, the guy told Eugene no one was in the room and acted like he had no idea who Princess was. They were definitely using psychological torture on him, trying to break him.

I think they know very well that Eugene's group is still lying about their settlement, and they're using a decoy "Stephanie" to find out the truth.

My point is that it goes back to the hallucination, making-someone-think-they're-crazy theme. It will be really interesting to see how this unfolds, because there's all kinds of psychological shenanigans going on here.

@galadrieljones​ made a really interesting connection some time ago. She noticed that back in 10x18, at Leah’s cabin, there is a metal, heart-shaped chair. The same chairs show up in the Commonwealth’s sales video from the trailer. So there’s some kind of link between Leah, Daryl’s memory of her, and the Commonwealth. We don’t know what it is yet, but all of this gives credence to the idea that she is either an outright hallucination, or Daryl is just remembering things wrong.

It also might mean that the Reapers are connected to the Commonwealth in some way. We don’t really know yet, but I’m having tons of fun trying to figure it out.

I want to touch briefly on the train car theme. Once again, there’s a parallel in both story lines (Terminus, and this one at the Commonwealth). Daryl’s group is in train cars this episode. And while Eugene’s group has been at a different compound, they started in the train yard and end in it here. But what I noticed is that Eugene enters the train car at the end, which is furnished inside, and finds his friends there. They all have a happy reunion.

It made me think of the fact that when Rick, Daryl, Michonne, and Carl enter the train cars at Terminus, there is also a family reunion. What happened beyond that was not good or easy. Clearly, Terminus was not a good place. Many of them almost died at the trough and they had to fight their way out through a walker blood bath.

I’m just saying that, while it obviously won’t play out exactly the same way, something similar is probably waiting for Eugene’s group outside that train car. Not good.

Acheron Overall:

Okay, let’s get to the big cheese, here. The overall narrative. The template.

These two episodes are called Acheron part 1 and part 2. So here’s the skinny:

Acheron = Underworld. Daryl’s group going into the subway tunnels (dark, underground) is what constitutes Acheron and why the episodes are called that. That’s why, at the end of this episode, they emerge from the tunnels onto the surface (i.e. the living world).

Given all the death, cemetery, and dark tunnel symbolism around Beth, given that she ventured into the land of the dead by being shot, maybe clinically dying for a time, and being thought dead for so long, what this tells me is that everything that happens in these tunnels is a foreshadow and template for what will happen this season.

I maintain that Dog = Beth and we will soon see something where Daryl hears something (not necessarily her; it was a man screaming so I still think it will be Rick he hears word of) and goes chasing after it. While searching for it, he stumbles across Beth. Then the two of them (both Dog and Daryl returned to the train car) go back in time to save TF from something.

This is most likely why the Roy thing is weird. In a super understated way, he represents Rick in the template. Daryl will find him, but only after he finds Beth. Even consider what Roy says. He says, “tell my kids I didn’t die a coward.” And that’s all well and good, but did we even know Roy had kids? No. Have we met them? No. But who has kids that Daryl IS concerned with? That would be Rick.

So I’m thinking that maybe when Daryl finds Rick, Rick will think he’s dying for some reason, and that’s why the dialogue here. But he won’t, which is why we see Roy with the group later.

And no, I’m not thinking that Roy dying via the Reapers will extend to Rick. It’s more like what they’ve done with countless characters that have been Beth proxies. Eventually, they kill them off. He’s a minor character they were using as a proxy, and when they are done with him in the narrative, he becomes walker chow. Or, in this case, Reaper fodder.

Anyway, I think everything will end up being a foreshadow for something. Maggie and Negan. The Gauge situation. All of it. I’ll try to keep coming back to this as the story progresses to show what everything foreshadows. I’ll stop there for today.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

[propertyoftoman]

In need of minimal Peh Yan comfort. This is completely unedited so sorry not sorry. Dealing with the loss of a loved one, I will not be taking criticism, thx.

tw; death of a loved one, COVID

Peh Yan is the love of your life and he knows it. But he can’t help but get a bit jealous when you come home gushing about how much you love your coworkers. Unloading stories about how you laugh with them, how they brought you coffee that morning, the donut thief and how you truly enjoy being part of their team. By no means do you love your job, but your coworkers make it bearable. “Yeah yeah, you’re still mine though,” pouting… The Peh Yan is… pouting? Ugh he’s so precious with his furrowed brow and pouty face that you can’t help but squish his cheeks and pull him for a quick peck.

It’s been weeks since you have been working from home due to a spike in COVID cases at work. Even on the days where you worked remotely, you would call your friends and have virtual meetings with them throughout the day so it felt like you were still together. All was well in the world except for one thing. Patient Zero, the original COVID case at work was still missing. He had been sick for days, that turned into weeks, that turned into worry. “Oh, he’s going to be fine, he’s probably just playing hooky,” you reassured each other. He would occasionally respond to the group text once a week with some really cheesy joke. You made sure to tell him we have donuts waiting for him at the office, hoping it would motivate him. He really loved maple bars.

It was Friday, your favorite day. No one ever actually works on a Friday, right? You finished up all your work for the day and called your friends to see if they needed any help wrapping up their business. It’s looking like a good day, maybe you can convince Peh Yan to go on a date tonight. All cute and dressed up, he really hates it. It was only 9:00 in the morning when you receive a calendar invite from your boss’ boss about an emergency team meeting requiring immediate attendance.

……

“BABE, BABE, OPEN THE DOOR!!”  You could hear Peh Yan banging on the front door. Ah…that’s right, he left his keys at a model house he was showing. You couldn’t tell how much time has passed since 9:00 that morning, all you could tell now is that it was dark. The sound of Peh Yan breaking the door down didn’t even startle you. “BABE WHAT THE HELL!!” He is trying to sound angry, but his tone sounds more worried. You can hear him in the living room looking around the house to find you “babe, where are you? I’ve been calling you ALL DAY, you didn’t show up to the restaurant, what did I do this time?!?!” You say nothing.

He’s dumb, he’s frantically searching for you until he finds you in the most obvious of places that he should have looked in first. The bedroom. It’s dark, its silent, and its unusual for you to take naps and you would never dream of missing a date with your beloved. He’s dumb but even he realizes the lapse in behavior. He can feel the thickness in the air and he hesitates to open the bedroom door. He gently knocks “babe, can I come in?” You haven’t said a word this entire time and it’s a miracle Peh Yan hasn’t run out of patience yet. “okay babe, I’m going to come in then.” You’ve never heard him speak so softly before.

The room is dark but the window lets in pools of moonlight. Your black sheets and blankets engulfing you, your face, your hair, your shape. He notices the curled curve of your back, your chest pressed against a pillow, holding it as if your life depends on it. Peh Yan has never been affectionate but you loved his crass personality and his loud, obnoxious and rude behavior. He took his place at the edge of the bed next to you. The discomfort apparent as he extends a hand to place on your back. “hey.. whatever I did –”  

“he died.” The first words you’ve said out loud all day.

Peh Yan said nothing. “My coworker. Just last night. Just like that.” Giving Peh Yan some more context. “The donut thief?” he knows your work friends not by name but by character traits and stories that you’ve told about them. A breathy chuckle made its way out passed your tears “yeah, the donut thief” it was hard not to smile remembering those events. Donut day in the office. He swore he was on a diet as you and your other work friends exchanged glances, rolled your eyes and laughed. He would act sneaky, coming up behind you and pretending that he was there to help with work and distract you as he (not) so casually stole 3 donuts.

“We hadn’t heard from him because he was in a coma, covid, then pneumonia, then lung infection that turned to a blood infection…. They were supposed to pull him out of the coma last night. But he didn’t make it.” The last few words were incomprehensible as your lips began to quiver even just thinking about it.

Peh Yan is frozen, realizing how dumb and selfish he is. Assuming everything was over him and not even taking a second to ask what was wrong. Words are not his thing, but watching your big round eyes filled with tears and feeling the dampness of the pillows, he realizes the pain you must be in. He says nothing, an unusual thing for his big loud mouth to do. He lifts the blankets and crawls into bed behind you. You want to be near, to be warm, but you don’t want him to see you like this. You allow his presence, but only as big spoon. Your body uncurls slightly at his touch as he wraps his arms around you. You squeeze the pillow you’ve been clinging to as he squeezes and clings to you. All this crying and deep thought is exhausting and with Peh Yan next to you, you feel safe enough to unwind.

“I’m sorry baby.” Were the last words you heard before waking up the next morning to him snoring in your ear.

#peh yan #property of peh yan #peyan #tokyo revengers #tokyorev #tokyo manji #tokyo revengers peyan #comfort #tokyo revengers comfort

[emmys-grimoire]

Lesson 51 analysis + 52 predictions

Eh I decided I had enough time and stuff in my head to write this out now.

The Book and the Flower

The book they found and the flower are too coincidental for them not to have any significance in the upcoming arc, so lets analyze them.

A little on the nose. Satan names his kitties after artists. HE LIKES ART, and the books in the library happen to be about art. He remarks that they’re all much more aligned with his interests than the ones in the actual House of Lamentation, except for one...

Geraniums have different (and sometimes contradictory) symbolism dependent on their color. Pink geraniums were supposedly used in love potions. The owner of the library may have someone they admired, or maybe the book is a metaphor for Satan himself.

This may be alluding to the Bible verse Matthew 14:31:

Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?"

We are undertaking trials named after the seven heavenly virtues in order to earn our Sorcerer’s license. We’ve already knocked out temperance and charity, so it may be related to whichever trial this is supposed to be.

Generally, the verse encourages holding onto faith even in the most tempestuous situations, so my guess would be this is the trial of patience. This promises to be a Satan-heavy arc, and he’s the Avatar of Wrath, so he would be a good candidate to assist in that endeavor. Simeon is also the wielder of the Wrath glowstick. It’s angry bois all around!

Strangely enough, Simeon is insistent on moving onto finding Luke and Mammon at this point, and Satan doesn’t get the chance to skim through the actual contents of the book. It’s a little uncharacteristic of him because he’s generally pretty laid back and he doesn’t seem to be in any particular rush to get out of past once when step into it: he’s willing to faff around with the angel brothers first. He does realize this isn’t searching for Luke and Mammon, right?

So an alternative interpretation is that Simeon really did just conjure all this up for Satan like he later accuses, and reading that book might have dispelled the illusion sooner than he’d like. And he’s just a really good actor telling the “okay” lies. But for this to work Barbatos would have to be in on it too... and I can’t see him having that ulterior motive. His arrival at the cafe is pretty timely, though.

It’s probably just the banshee, and Simeon is just being opportunistic and trying to get Satan to work through his problems along the way. Since he actually likes this period of time, he may not be in a great hurry to leave.

Beelzebub’s Hunger Pangs

In this lesson we learn that Beelzebub is growing quite the appetite and he and the brothers are confused by it. They have good reason to be, because Beelzebub wasn’t a glutton when we first interacted with his past angel self!

This leads me to believe MC meddling with the past may have unintentionally triggered something in past angel Beel that’s unravelling in his timeline. Michael warns us about this effect after he fishes us out of the past the first time. It doesn’t seem like it’s something he can reverse.

I think he means this past Beelzebub is now reacting to our presence in this particular timeline, and we’re jumpstarting the demonic impulses now, sooner than they would normally manifest. In our timeline, he may have let himself go after he fell. Whoops.

The angel bros are also quite certain they know MC now, and “Sully”, which could also mean there’s some kind of transfer going on between their past and present selves with MC at the center, and that might affect how the future unfolds. Which is... not necessarily good.

Compare and Contrast: Simeon vs. Lucifer

We learn that Simeon is very at home in the time period he steps into. He loves the air, and he admits this was the brightest spot of his life.

Simeon was a Seraphim alongside Lucifer and Michael in this period of time. They’re implied to be the rulers of the Celestial Realm, and though Simeon still seems to answer to Michael and Lucifer, he was still close to the seat of power and he was likely involved in determining how the Celestial Realm functioned. It’s implied that the Seraphim spent most of their time in the Celestial Palace: Simeon having fond memories of the time spent there means he enjoyed whatever it is they do there.

Buuuut... I think this may revolve around his affection for Lucifer and Michael more than any of the other Seraphim. It’s implied that he and Michael have a long history together, and that likely applies to Lucifer as well; I think they grew up and climbed the celestial ranks together. He was demoted after the Great Celestial War for reasons left unexplored so far, but it’s telling that functionally his position hasn’t changed and he’s still answering to Michael -- and as far as we know, only Michael. And not all the time lol.

In contrast, Lucifer seems to have tried to mentally bury all his Celestial Realm memories. He acknowledges it wasn’t all bad but those memories for him are far and few in between. He sure as hell doesn’t like to bring them up or discuss them, and will flagrantly lie about it when someone tries to pry some kind of sentiment out of him.

My guess is that Lucifer, and possibly Michael, have a unique relationship with their lovely father that resulted in trauma powerful enough to completely eclipse all the good times Lucifer may have had in the Celestial Realm. Lucifer outright hates making himself vulnerable in any capacity, so he turns from a metaphorical peacock into a metaphorical porcupine when the Celestial Realm is brought up. He can tangentially discuss it with Simeon and MC, though, however sparsely. He will not reminiscence about it in any other setting.

His brothers might have been the only thing that kept him sane through all that, whatever it was. Considering how much Michael seems to miss the brothers, too, it may have been the same situation with him. He and Lucifer might have shared some good ol’ traumabonding that no one else could really understand, but they might have come to entirely different conclusions on what needed to be done about it.

Demons becoming more angelic…?

In a hard mode lesson in Season 2, Barbatos confronts Lucifer about how much he’s changed and what it might mean for the future. In the context of that season, we’re led to believe that this is referencing the upcoming conflict between him and Diavolo: a conflict implied to force Lucifer to choose between his love for his brothers or his loyalty to Diavolo.

Only that doesn’t really happen in Season 2.

Similar to how MC may be triggering demonic changes in the angel brothers, there’s evidence MC is making the present demon Lucifer more angelic. It doesn’t actually stop here, either.

Lucifer doesn’t immediately revert back to his old self even after he regains his memories after his bout of amnesia. Just how he regained them might be noteworthy, too: it was only after Michael invaded our dreams and left in the wake of the Ring of Light ‘choosing’ MC.

This ability to tug the brothers back and forth along the angel/demon spectrum could be something Michael/Simeon might be keen on taking advantage of to get Lucifer and the brothers back. If angels can turn into demons, then logically demons can turn into angels. We do remember Michael is plotting something, right? And whatever it is, Simeon specifically is being used to carry it out (Luke likely is too clueless to really be of much use in this regard).

What I do know is this isn’t a game that’s going to outright vilify the titular Christian archangel or the sexy nowdateable, so regardless of what it is, it’s more likely to end with reconciliation more than anything else. Diavolo’s exchange program requires cooperation with the Celestial Realm, and I think Michael eventually becoming an ally is the only way it could work. Would not bet on daddy being interested, and I don’t think Simeon is gonna stab everyone and take over. This is a harem otome, not an edgy shounen anime.

Also I want my Luke content, damn it. I hope he shows up in the next lesson and gets to faff around with the angel bros, too. I’m afraid they’re going to shove him off until the very end in favor of Satan x Lucifer bonding part 3. It’ll be difficult to fit TWO meaningful character arcs in one lesson, but I’m hoping they try. Why set up all the inner conflict in Luke right beforehand, otherwise?

Don’t let me down, guys.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me lesson 51 #obey me lesson 52 #obey me spoilers #obey me lucifer #obey me simeon #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me season 3

[chicgeekgirl89]

Home is Us

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand, Owen Strand, Judd Ryder, Tommy Vega, Mateo Chavez

Summary: In the aftermath of the condo fire, Carlos and T.K. seek comfort in one another. Post ep for 2x12 "The Big Heat."

A/N: This is my rather belated post ep for 2x12. And it would not have happened without @bluenet13. Literally. I agonized over this SO MUCH and she listened to all my whining and didn't let me cut the part about Marlon Blendo so I owe her everything.

AO3

The night air was cool and still, the stars sparkling brightly in the sky, but the stench of smoke obliterated any sense of peace or calm. T.K. could feel Carlos’ hand gripping his shoulder with bruising force as they burst out the front doors and onto the lawn, both of them gasping and coughing.

Tommy came running toward them. “Are you all right?” she asked urgently, eyes and hands searching for damage. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m, I’m okay,” T.K. choked out. “Carlos?”

He shook his head, coughing violently. “I’m fine too.”

“T.K.!”

His dad came charging toward him, wrapping him up a fierce hug. “Oh my god,” he breathed into T.K.’s hair and then his other arm was pulling Carlos in too, squeezing them both with every bit of strength he had. “Are you boys all right?”

“We’re good, Dad,” T.K. said, even though he was shaking violently, adrenaline coursing through his veins so fast he felt lightheaded. “What the hell? How did you guys even know we were in trouble?”

“Raymond said something earlier today and I just put the pieces together,” Owen said. “I’m so sorry, I should have figured it out sooner.”

There were sirens screaming up now, ambulances and firetrucks, and Tommy put a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “Okay, there will be time to talk about this later. Right now all of you need to get checked out by the paramedics. No objections,” she said quickly when several mouths opened to protest. “A little oxygen never hurt anybody. Come on now.”

T.K. moved follow her and then realized Carlos wasn’t behind him. He turned to find his boyfriend still rooted to the spot, staring straight ahead at the burning building. “Babe?” T.K. reached for his arm.

Carlos startled at his touch and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

He was quiet as they sat on the back of the ambulance, answering questions with yes or no answers, eyes and body listless as they checked him over for injuries. T.K. had never seen his boyfriend look so small. 

They were both given oxygen and then Tommy reappeared, blankets in hand that she wrapped comfortingly around their shoulders, her mom tendencies coming out in full force. “Is everyone else all right?” T.K. asked, pushing his mask to the side.

“They’ve all got some first and second degree burns, but they’ll heal up all right. How are you two doing?”

“It could have been a lot worse,” T.K. said. 

“Carlos?” Tommy asked, her eyes softening and taking on a new level of concern.

He met her eyes and nodded. “I’m okay.”

She looked at him a moment longer and then reached out to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’m going to go check on the guys. You two stay right here and do as you’re told, got it?”

It wasn’t long before the paramedics released them with instructions to take it easy, stay hydrated, and head to the emergency room if they experienced any concerning symptoms. T.K. was still in disbelief that they’d escaped so unharmed. It was nothing short of miraculous, if you believed in that kind of thing.

Carlos spoke as they walked away from the ambulance, his voice quiet. “I should uh, I should call my parents,” he said.

“Do you want me to do it?” T.K. asked.

Carlos shook his head, already pulling out his phone. “No. No it’s um, they should hear it from me.”

He dialed, taking a shaky breath as he waited for someone to pick up. “Hey Dad.”

The conversation was painful, even from T.K.’s end. He couldn’t make out Gabriel’s words through the phone, but he could hear the unbridled fear in his voice. Carlos on the other hand sounded almost monotone, relaying the story and pertinent information in painfully exact detail, but without an ounce of emotion behind it, slipping back and forth between English and Spanish as he explained.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound so upset before,” Carlos said, when he hung up.

“Yeah.” T.K. looked at his boyfriend who seemed to be refusing to look back. “Carlos? How are you doing?” he finally asked. 

“I’m good,” Carlos said, eyes darting toward him and then away. It was clearly a brush off and they both knew it. So T.K. waited.

And then he watched as his boyfriend broke in front of him, anguish and fear spilling out like a wave until they were both clinging to one another as Carlos’ quiet sobs wracked his frame over and over again.

“Shh,” T.K. soothed, struggling to provide some kind of real comfort when he felt so raw himself. “Breathe. We’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

“I should have known, I should have made the alarm company come out today.”

“Carlos listen to me, none of this is your fault.” T.K. pulled him in tighter, desperate to do something to ease his pain.

“If I had just looked around, if we had waited ten more minutes to go upstairs—“

“We had no way of knowing.”

Carlos pulled back, still shaky. “You can’t really believe that. There’s always something. I should have done better.”

T.K. cupped his face in his hands. “Baby why are you beating yourself up over this so much?”

“Because I’m supposed to protect you!” Carlos said, the words coming out on a ragged sob. “That’s my job. To keep people safe. And when it came down to it I couldn’t protect you. The person I care about most in this world I couldn’t—”

T.K. used his thumbs to wipe away some of Carlos’ tears, clearing his throat, trying to keep his own tears at bay. “Listen to me. We’re a team, remember? We protect each other. You and me. Not just you.”

Carlos shook his head, face still contorted in misery. T.K. pulled him back in again and pressed a kiss to his hair. “It’s okay to be upset. But you cannot blame yourself for this. This was not your fault, do you hear me?”

Carlos nodded against his shoulder, but T.K. wasn’t completely convinced his words had gotten through.

Carlos took a shuddering breath and stepped away, wiping at his eyes and T.K. watched the wall go back up; the one Carlos had carefully constructed around him that meant he was always completely even-tempered and never out of control. “We should uh, we should go check on your dad and everybody. Tell them thank you.”

“Yeah, sure,” T.K. said, feeling like he probably should be saying something more, but unable to find the words.

Carlos was already moving toward the group gathered at the back of the ambulance and T.K. had no choice but to follow him. “You guys all right?” T.K. asked as Judd pulled him in for a side hug.

“We’re just glad you’re both okay,” Judd told him. “Everything check out with the paramedics?”

“We both ate a little bit of smoke, but we’re okay,” T.K. said. “Honestly though,” he swallowed hard, “we probably wouldn’t be here without you guys. So thank you.”

“You’re just lucky your dad drives so fast. I didn’t know he had it in him, what with him being such a city slicker,” Billy said with a chuckle.

“My driving is impeccable and I always drive the exact speed limit. Except in emergency situations,” Owen said, casting a look at Carlos.

Carlos managed to scrounge up half a smile but didn’t say anything.

A truck came screeching to a stop just behind the ambulance and Gabriel Reyes jumped out. The man looked truly shaken, eyes wild as he ran toward them. “Carlos! Mijo are you all right?”

“I’m okay Dad,” Carlos told him as they hugged.

“Gracias a Dios. You’re all okay?” Gabriel asked, looking around the group.

“We got out just in time,” Owen said. “Minor injuries only.”

“Which is more than we can say for the condo,” Judd said. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t do more Carlos, he had that place rigged up good.”

Carlos shook his head. “You did everything you could and we’re…” he swallowed hard and T.K. could tell he was blinking back more tears, “we’re very grateful.”

“Have they taken your statements yet?” Gabriel asked. 

“Yeah, about half an hour ago,” T.K. said. Officers had come around while they were still sitting at the back of the ambulance and written down what little they knew. Nothing like telling complete strangers that you hadn’t realized your house was burning down around you because you were upstairs having sex with your boyfriend. 

“Then there’s no reason you need to be standing around here,” Gabriel said. “You know the ranch is open to you both. Your mother is worried sick, she would be very happy to have you.” He turned to look at Owen. “But perhaps you would rather be closer to work? The ranch is a bit of a drive.”

“Well of course you’re welcome to stay at my place,” Owen said. “There’s plenty of space and Buttercup would love to have you around. But I’m sure Andrea wants you close to her.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I think they’re better off here in town. Andrea will understand. There will be a lot of paperwork to deal with in the coming days, they need to be readily available.”

“Well of course, but I’m not sure how much I can provide in the way of hospitality right now. The investigators didn’t really clean things up when they left,” Owen said meaningfully.

“Not a problem,” Gabriel said, taking out his phone. “I can have a crew there in the morning. It should never have taken this long in the first place. You know sometimes they drag their feet on these things.”

“Oh it’s no problem,” Owen said, waving him off. “Worth it in the end.” 

The dads debated a while longer before they decided an exhausted T.K. and Carlos would stay with Owen for the time being to be closer to work and to their former condo for whatever overhaul was necessary. By that point neither of them really cared where they ended up as long as there was a shower and a bed waiting for them. 

Owen elected to stay at the scene with Gabriel so Judd drove Carlos and T.K. home. Neither of them said much, still in a state of shock and Judd was mindful enough not to try and fill the truck with conversation.

The house was dark, Mateo asleep for the night. Buttercup looked up as they came in and gave half a tail wag before settling back down again.

“I think I left a couple sweatshirts and pairs of pants here,” T.K. said, searching through the drawers in his dad’s guest room. 

“Mmhmm,” Carlos said. He’d sunk onto the end of the bed and was staring blankly at the wall. 

“Hey,” T.K. stopped his search and went to him, cupping his face in his hands. “Why don’t you go get in the shower? I’ll find us something to change into and bring it to you.”

Carlos nodded tiredly and disappeared down the hall. T.K. stood for a moment chewing on his lip. He felt lost, adrift, trying to process and deal with his own feelings of grief and stomach churning worry, and Carlos seemed miles away. T.K. didn’t know what to do except to try and meet his physical needs.

He managed to scrounge up a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he thought would do the job. They might be a little tight, but at least Carlos wouldn’t be sleeping in the stench of his smoky clothes.

T.K. knocked softly on the bathroom door before stepping inside and putting the clothes on the counter. “You all right?” he asked.

Carlos sniffed and cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

T.K. gathered up Carlos’ soiled clothes from the floor and dumped them into the washer, intending to add his after he had his own shower. He heard the water turn off and a minute later the bathroom door opened. “I’m done,” Carlos called softly down the hall.

“I’ll be quick,” T.K. said, switching places with him. 

The water felt good and he watched as soot and sweat and ash slithered down the drain. He took longer than he meant to, almost lulled to sleep by the soothing pound of the water against his back. Eventually it grew cool and he turned it off, stepping out to try and squeeze into a pair of sweatpants that belonged to his dad and a t-shirt he didn’t recognize but had found in the clean laundry.

T.K. left the bathroom still toweling off his hair. He crept quietly toward the guest room; Buttercup didn’t even move as he stepped over him in the hallway. Opening the door he winced when it squeaked, fully expecting to find Carlos completely sacked out in the bed, more than ready to join his boyfriend in blissful sleep.

Instead he found the room empty and a spiral of fear shot through him so fast it took his breath away. “Carlos?” he whispered, as if the man would suddenly materialize from a dark corner or the tiny closet. 

When there was no answer he turned and went back the way he’d come, stepping over Buttercup again, searching the kitchen and the living room before he made his way to the back patio. “Hey,” he said softly when he spotted Carlos sitting on the edge of the outdoor sofa.

Carlos didn’t respond and T.K. felt his worry grow heavier. “Carlos?”

His boyfriend’s shoulders hitched slightly and T.K. walked around the patio furniture to find him hunched over, tears streaming down his face. “Oh baby,” T.K. said, dropping to his knees, hands frantically reaching for him. 

“I’m sorry,” Carlos said hoarsely. “I just…I can’t…I’m trying to pull it together but—”

T.K. slipped onto the couch next to him and pulled him into his arms. “You don’t have to be okay,” he whispered, his own throat thick with emotion. “No one expects that of you.”

Carlos’ voice was hoarse and broken. “I’ve never needed saving before. Not like that.”

“Most people don’t,” T.K. said.

Carlos looked at him, eyes red and swollen. “You were amazing in there. I was…I was panicking and you knew exactly what to do.”

“You’re a police officer,” T.K. said, resting his head on top of Carlos’. “I wouldn’t expect you to know what to do in a five alarm fire. Just like you wouldn’t expect me to know what to do in a shootout.”

Carlos sighed and leaned into him. T.K. bent over and kissed his forehead. “We should try and get some sleep.”

Carlos shook his head again. “I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “I just keep thinking about it over and over again. I’m sorry I’m such a mess—“

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize. Everything you’re feeling is totally normal.”

Carlos swallowed hard. “I know it was just a house. But it was mine. It was the first place I felt like I could be myself. And then you came and it was our home and I—“ Carlos bit his lip and shook his head. “It’s all gone.”

“But I’m not,” T.K. said twining their hands together. “I’m right here. You’ve got me. And I don’t care where we are as long as we’re together. Home is us.” He stroked his thumb up and down on Carlos’ shoulder.

His face sobered as he took a really good, long look at Carlos. Exhaustion and fear still radiated off of him. He looked defeated. Empty. “Let’s at least try to get some sleep,” T.K. said softly, brushing a still-damp, curl from Carlos’ forehead. “We’ll figure things out in the morning.”

He pulled Carlos to his feet and they walked hand in hand back to the guest room. Carlos looked at the clock as he got into bed and groaned. “I have a shift in five hours.”

“You’re not going to work today.” T.K. told him. “They’ll understand.”

Carlos slid down the bed onto his side, leaning up on his elbow, his free hand finding a home on T.K.’s hip. “I meant what I said before. You were incredible tonight T.K. You saved us.”

“I’m pretty sure my dad, Billy, and Judd saved us,” T.K. told him.

Carlos shook his head. “I’m serious. If you hadn’t been there—“

“But I was,” T.K. said firmly. “I was and we’re fine. We’re…going to be fine,” he amended, because god knew there was nothing fine about them right now.

Carlos was quiet for a moment and then laid down all the way so they were face to face. T.K. shifted so they were even closer, needing to feel the warmth of Carlos against his own body. “I don’t think I can sleep,” Carlos said.

“Then we’ll just lie here together,” T.K. told him softly. 

They locked eyes, both of them breathing together in the silence, just being together, holding on a little tighter than normal. “I can’t stop seeing it,” Carlos finally whispered. “I was so scared T.K. What if I’d lost you?”

“You didn’t,” T.K. said softly. He leaned in and pressed a tender, reassuring kiss to Carlos’ lips. Carlos didn’t respond so T.K. nudged him gently with his nose and then kissed him again.

It was slow at first, Carlos still drowning so deeply in loss and anxiety, but as T.K. continued to silently encourage him he began to reciprocate. First just one kiss, and then another, this one a little deeper, until they were completely pressed up against each other, hands searching for bare skin, shared breath moving between parted lips. 

Things grew heated and T.K. could feel the increasing desperation in Carlos’ kisses so he smoothed a hand soothingly down his spine, pulling back from him just a little bit, forcing him to slow down. “It’s okay,” he murmured as their lips broke apart and came back together. “I’m right here.”

Carlos responded by matching T.K.’s slower kisses, following him rather than leading.

T.K. reached between them and slowly undid the drawstring on his boyfriend’s sweatpants. Carlos broke off the kiss. “Are you sure?”

T.K. nodded, moving his hands underneath Carlos’ shirt, helping him pull it off over his head. They both needed this, to touch, to feel, to reassure themselves that they were alive, that this might have changed their night, but it hadn’t change them. 

Carlos started to roll on top of him, but T.K. gently pushed him back down until he was the one on top, chests and hips pressed together, a reversal of their positions from just hours before. Carlos’ hands landed on T.K.’s back, their eyes locking, both of them seeking comfort in the physicality of being together.

“We’re okay,” T.K. said, as much for himself as for Carlos.

Carlos nodded and then closed his eyes as T.K. began pressing kisses into his neck and chest. “We’re okay,” T.K. murmured soothingly every time his lips left Carlos’ skin. “I’m going to say it until you believe it. We’re okay. We will be okay together.”

                                           XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

T.K. woke up in the morning legs still tangled with Carlos’. It took him a moment to remember why he had a pounding headache and his muscles felt tight. Right. Burning condo. Smoke inhalation. Mad dash for their lives.

Carlos was still deeply asleep, for which T.K. was grateful. His boyfriend had drifted off in his arms somewhere around three am and T.K. had quickly followed. He managed to extricate himself without waking Carlos and pulled on some clothes before he headed out to the kitchen in search of painkillers. 

Sun was just filtering in the windows, the day already bright and clear. It was incredible how the world could continue to turn, even when everything had just crashed down around you. T.K. found some Advil, leaving it out on the counter, knowing it was likely that Carlos would be in need of some too. Then he moved their now clean, damp clothes from the washer to the dryer. They’d need to go out today and get some essentials. 

“T.K.?” Mateo asked in surprise as he appeared at the base of the stairs.  “I thought you and Carlos made up?” He paused and frowned in confusion. “Is that my shirt?”

T.K. sighed and launched into an edited version of the night’s events. “Dude,” Mateo said when he finished, a stunned look on his face. “Man that sucks. I’m glad you guys are all right.”

“Yeah, us too,” T.K. said.

“And listen, my house just totally blew up too. It was a rental, so not quite the same, but if you guys need help with any part of this process just let me know. You can borrow my car or laptop or whatever you need.”

“Thanks Mateo,” T.K. said gratefully.

There were footsteps on the stairs and Carlos appeared, eyes bleary and swollen, curls a disheveled mess. There was still a heaviness about him, but he looked better than the night before.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping an arm around T.K.’s waist and giving him a kiss, lingering slightly longer than their normal morning peck. “Hi Mateo.”

“Hey Carlos. T.K. told me about your place, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s definitely not ideal,” Carlos said with a sigh.

“Did you sleep okay?” T.K. asked.

Carlos nodded, then winced. T.K. reached for the bottle of Advil and poured him a glass of water. “Thanks,” Carlos said, swallowing down two pills.

“Did you call your captain?” T.K. asked as Mateo grabbed a protein bar and vacated the kitchen to give them some privacy.

“Yeah he’d already heard. Told me to take the time I need.”

“Good,” T.K. said.

The dryer buzzed. “That’s our clothes,” T.K. said, getting up to retrieve them. “At least you can put on a shirt that fits.”

He tossed Carlos his shirt and pants. Carlos stared down at them, a frown on his face. “You okay?” T.K. asked.

“Why did you throw a shirt at me?”

“What?”

“Last night. We were about to be burned alive and you made me put a shirt on.”

“Oh,” T.K. thought for a second and shrugged as he folded his sweatpants and set them on top of the dryer. “I don’t know. I guess I just…panicked. I was thinking that the temperature drops here at night and I didn’t want you to be cold when we got outside.”

“Our condo was hot as hell, but you were worried I’d be cold?”

T.K. bit his lip and shook his head, a sheepish smile growing on his face. “I don’t know, like I said I panicked. It was the first thought that came to me.”

“Well it was a good one,” Carlos said, slipping his arms around T.K.’s waist. “Standing out there all night with no shirt on would have been pretty uncomfortable.”

T.K. threaded his arms through Carlos’, hands coming to rest on his lower back. “You doing okay this morning?” he asked.

“Better,” Carlos confirmed. “Thank you. I think I just…needed to let it all out. I’m sorry about last night. My head was…”

“Hey,” T.K. shook his head. “No more apologies. No one has anything to apologize for, right?” He brushed a hand over Carlos’ cheek. “Do you want coffee? Or a smoothie?” His eyes went wide as a thought hit him. “Oh no!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Carlos asked, concern dropping over his face like a cloud. T.K.’s distress was so sudden and visceral that he pulled back slightly, eyes searching T.K.’s frame for some kind of injury.

T.K. felt his chest growing tight as anxiety gripped him. “Marlon Blendo! Oh my god, my dad is going to be so upset!”

“Whoa.” Carlos cupped his face in his hands. “I’m sure your dad will be okay. Blenders are replaceable.”

“Carlos he really loved that blender,” T.K. said seriously. 

Carlos chuckled. “Here I am, wondering all night long how we’re going to get through this and how you can be so calm when the world has literally gone up in flames, and now you’re losing it over a blender.”

“He was a really good blender!” T.K. pulled away from him and ran a hand through his hair as he took a few aimless steps, more thoughts striking him. “Oh my god my hoodies!”

“I will buy you new hoodies,” Carlos assured him.

“They won’t be the same,” T.K. groaned.

“Is this you finally freaking out?”

“I am not freaking out!” T.K.’s breathing had increased rapidly as panic spiraled through him. The sense of calm control he’d felt for the past twelve hours slowly started to slip away as reality set in. “Oh my god I’m totally freaking out. I can’t freak out, you’re freaking out! We can’t both be freaking out!”

“Hey,” Carlos cradled his face in his hand. “We’re okay? Remember? And if you need to freak out and lose it, that’s all right. It’s your turn. I’ll pull it together for a couple hours and you can melt down.”

“I don’t want to melt down, I want my shirt with the blue stripes on it. And that bergamot candle your parents gave us as a housewarming gift. Oh my god, Carlos all your spices from the market!”

“Come here,” Carlos said, pulling him into a hug, one hand holding him firmly around the waist, the other settling on the nape of his neck, thumb moving back and forth in a soothing motion.

T.K. let his forehead rest against Carlos’ shoulder, feeling more grounded by the strength of his boyfriend’s arms and the softness of his fingers. “Thanks,” he mumbled. 

T.K. took a breath as the weight of everything began to land on his shoulders. Losing their home. Almost losing each other. God, how was he only now feeling how terrible it all was? He’d truly thought he was okay until this very second. “We’re going to make it through this, right?” he asked. He’d been so sure last night, but now…

Carlos pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Yes. We are.”

                                       XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: When I started writing this, did I think it would end up in the boys having soft, sweet "we're so glad we're not dead" sex in Owen's guest room? Nope. No I did not. Is it all @bluenet13's fault that it happened? Possibly. Or possibly they're just too sexy and they couldn't help it. Idk.

#911 Lone Star #911 LS #Tarlos #Carlos Reyes #TK Strand #Tarlos Fic #2x12 #The Big Heat #Post Ep #Home is Us #Emotional Hurt/Comfort

[mothandpidgeon]

THE SINS OF THE FATHER - a Molly York story PART 2

(gif by @pajamasecrets)

PROLOGUE - PART 1

MASTERLIST

Characters: Dave York, Molly York (Carol and Alice, too)

Words: 3500

Rating: T

Warnings: character death (canon), loss of a parent, angst, training your daughter to be an assassin?

Summary: After contacting a mysterious acquaintance of her later father's, Molly York learns more about the man. And about his death.

a/n: I'm a little obsessed with this fic right now. I love writing soft!Dave and his daughter. I know this isn't the mean daddy Dave smut we usually love, but I'd love to hear from you if you're enjoying this!

Thanks @purplepascal042 for helping me with this part! Love you, B!

/ / / / /

Dave is exhausted from jet lag, sprawled on the bed, still in his shirt and slacks. The last job took a lot out of him. He needs a shower but his body won’t budge.

“Daddy are you sleeping?” Molly asks from the doorway in a stage whisper.

“What’s going on?”

“Will you help me with my homework?” she asks. She’s clutching a worksheet and a pencil.

“Sure. Come here,” he says and she climbs onto the bed beside him. “What’ve we got?”

“I have to interview a grown up about their job. For Career Day,” she explains.

Dave looks over the page, his tired eyes barely focusing. “Did you ask Mommy to do this?”

“I want you to do it,” Molly insists.

He lets Molly read him each prompt and he answers as simply as possible. She dutifully writes down each answer in scrawling pencil.

“How do you spell ‘investigation?’” she asks.

“Sound it out,” he encourages. He’s so burnt, he’s not sure he can manage to spell it either.

“‘What is your favorite part about your job?’” she reads.

Dave sighs longer than he means to. “Coming home to my family.”

“No, Daddy! It has to be about work!”

The address Capra had given Molly was a boarded up movie theater off the highway about 30 miles outside of DC. Molly told Carol that she was shopping for dorm decor when she’d left the house full of nerves. She’d gotten so good at lying, sometimes she believed her own.

The parking lot was empty, the cracks in its pavement filled in with grass, punctuated by street lights every few yards. Molly had expected to meet at a coffee shop or a restaurant, not some out of the way place. She was sitting on the trunk of her car, her leg bouncing, when a black BMW pulled up. The woman driving it looked to be in her late 40s, her hair pulled back neatly. When she stepped out of her car, she pulled her sunglasses down her nose and eyed Molly up and down.

“How old are you now? 20?”

“18,” Molly told her.

“You’re the older one?”

“Yeah,” Molly said.

Capra approached her and she hopped down from the bumper.

“Didn’t your dad ever teach you not to talk to strangers?” she asked.

Molly hesitated. She had her pepper spray in her back pocket and she was much younger, probably quicker than this woman. But Dad wouldn’t give her Capra’s number if he didn’t trust her. Still, Molly decided to lean against her car and keep her distance.

“You know a lot about me for a stranger,” Molly replied.

Capra grinned. She nodded her head back and said, “Walk with me.”

Molly paced the pavement with her, glancing at the woman beside her. She was slim with sharp features, whispers of frown lines in her face. Capra offered Molly a cigarette which she declined.

“Is Capra your first name?”

“It’s what my friends call me,” she replied.

There was a darkness in her tone that made Molly edgy.

“Did you work with my dad at the agency?” Molly asked.

That would explain some things. But Capra laughed.

“No.” Capra observed Molly and then her lip twitched up into a wistful smile. “Jeez I bet everybody tells you you look just like him.”

Molly’s stomach churned.

“Were you and my dad-”

“No,” Capra said. “God no. Your dad was...a complicated guy but not when it came to his family.”

Molly nodded, not sure if she felt relieved or if that just gave her more questions.

“So how did you know each other?” She asked.

“It’s a long story,” Capra said, scratching her forehead. “We did some freelance work together.”

Capra made some small talk, asking Molly where she was headed for college, what she’d be studying. Molly had so many questions of her own she could only manage short answers. Finally, she had to ask the question that had been nagging at her the loudest.

“Do you know what happened to my dad? How he died?” She’d stopped walking.

“I know the same as you,” Capra said.

“Which is?” Molly asked. She wasn’t going to accept such a vague answer.

Capra gave a wry smile. She flicked her cigarette butt to the ground and twisted it into the pavement under her shoe. Molly’s heart sped up. She’d caught Capra in a lie.

“You’re a clever one,” she said.

“It wasn’t an accident, was it?” Molly asked. She searched Capra’s face for an answer. “Please.”

“I wasn’t there,” she replied.

“But you know. Please. I need to know.”

Molly felt like she was holding her breath. Capra looked away, then back at Molly.

“You don’t want to know,” Capra said.

“I do,” Molly said. She balled her hands into fists so she didn’t shake Capra by her shoulders.

“He wouldn’t want you to know.”

“How do you know that?” Molly spat. “What the hell do you know about him? I’ve never even heard of you. You don’t know.”

“Trust me, there’s plenty about your father you didn’t know,” Capra snapped back.

Molly was so frustrated she wanted to cry. Instead she let out a growl and turned back towards her car.

“Fuck this!” She stomped away.

She’d crossed half of the parking lot when she heard Capra call after her. Molly squared her shoulders, tried to compose herself, and turned around to glare at the woman. Capra was clutching the bridge of her nose, her eyes shut. Finally she dropped her hand with an exasperated sigh and pulled out another cigarette. Capra lit it as she closed the distance between them, blowing smoke out of her mouth and shaking her head. She held the cigarette out to Molly.

“You’re going to want one of these. And you’re going to need to sit down for this.”

Dave parks the car in the driveway. Molly is sitting in the passenger seat, still grinning from her first experience at the shooting range.

“Now remember,” Dave says before he opens the door, “this is our secret. So if Mom asks where we were, just tell her our cover story.”

She nods eagerly but then her lips twist into a thoughtful frown.

“It’s lying,” she says.

Dave feels guilty for a moment. Deceit is practically second nature for him but what kind of father teaches his daughter to be dishonest?

“But it’s a white lie,” she justifies to herself. “Right?”

Dave kisses the crown of her head.

“It’s alright, baby. Everybody has secrets.”

Molly felt dizzy. The story Capra told her made her feel like she’d gone from a tilt-a-whirl into a funhouse. Everything was distorted and she was upside down. Already, she was replaying her memories of Dad with this new context tinging them like a dark filter.

Dad kissing her on the forehead before bed. Hoisting her onto his shoulders on the 4th of July. Singing along to “Baba O’Riley” and drumming on the steering wheel. Dad killing people. Earning blood money. Dying by someone else’s hand.

“It’s a lot,” Capra said. They were sitting in Molly’s parked car, the windows rolled down, the sound of the highway traffic washing through like white noise. “But he did it for you.”

Molly’s eyes flicked to her. She hadn't asked for anybody to die.

“He was trying to take care of his family,” Capra clarified.

She let Molly sit in silence for a while as she sorted out what she’d just heard. Molly felt like she was grieving him all over again. Except this time she mourned the father she knew.

“My mom-"

“She never knew,” Capra said.

Molly nodded weakly.

“It was a secret because he loved you.”

Molly felt a tear slip from her eye. She didn’t want to feel hurt. She didn’t like feeling deceived. She wiped her face and set her jaw.

“What happened to Mac?” she asked.

She remembered meeting the man who had killed her father. Everything that had happened just before he died was so clear in her memory. She could still see Mac’s face, his friendly smile.

He’d seemed like such a nice guy. She remembered asking him a load of questions as he rode with them to school and he’d laughed and told Carol what a bright girl she was.

It sickened her to know he’d been right there. So close. And she was so small and clueless. Had Dad known what was coming?

“He lives up in New England,” Capra said. “Retired.”

Molly turned to Capra, anger burning in her chest.

“He’s still alive?” she asked.

“Afraid so,” Capra said.

Molly looked back out the windshield, took a deep breath. Retired. Dad would never get to retire. Go golfing or build model cars or whatever old men did.

“And you do...what my dad did?” she asked.

Capra didn’t confirm or deny it.

“You can’t discuss this. With anyone,” she informed her.

Molly nodded again. She wouldn’t dream of telling Carol this. She would protect her from the truth just like dad had.

“I’m sorry about this,” Capra said before they parted ways. “You’ve got my number. Give me a call if you ever need anything.”

As Molly drove home, thoughts solidified in her mind.

Dad was a killer. But he’d been a killer before, in the Marines. He’d still loved her. He went to her karate matches and read her bedtime stories. She might have lived her whole life without ever finding out what Dave York really was.

If he hadn’t died.

He could have taught her how to drive. Taken photos before senior prom. Visited colleges with her.

He would have danced with her at her wedding. Helped her fix up her first home. Held her future children in his arms.

If he hadn’t been murdered.

And what about mom? She wouldn’t have worried about calling plumbers and taking her car to the mechanic. Run herself ragged getting Alice to dance class and Molly to archery competitions. She wouldn't have had to sleep alone every night.

If it hadn’t been for Robert McCall.

Molly could absolve her father’s sins. But Mac she would never forgive.

“Young lady, open this door right now,” Dave barks.

“You told me to go to my room! I’m in my room!” Molly snaps through her bedroom door.

She’s given Carol lip all morning and he’s had enough of the attitude. Every day, his sweet little girl is fading more and more into a stubborn teenager.

“You do not slam doors in this house.”

“Leave me alone!” Molly yells. “I hate you!”

Dave knows that she’s angry and she’s got a bad temper. That these outbursts are the first signs of puberty rearing its ugly head. But, still, her words punch him right in the gut.

“If that’s how you’re going to speak to your father, then you’re grounded,” he manages.

“Good!”

Molly had been reserved ever since Dave’s death but, after meeting Capra, she felt her melancholy harden into bitterness. She went through college. She didn’t make a lot of friends or date many people. She studied, she practiced her marksmanship, she trained.

As soon as Molly turned 18, she was back at the gun range. It had been a long time since Dad had taken her for target practice but she was pleasantly surprised by her grouping. She’d had a good teacher.

She liked everything about shooting. Not just because it had been a secret she shared with her father. She liked the ritual– loading the magazine, carefully picking up the gun. She liked the focus– taking a deep breath and looking down the barrel. She liked the power.

Mac’s grin stayed fixed in her mind. She thought about it when she pulled herself from bed at five in the morning to do push ups. She pictured it when she worked herself into a sweat at the gym’s punching bag. She imagined it when she put holes through the head of the target at the shooting range.

She didn’t think she’d have the chance to do that in real life. But she dreamed about it almost every night.

Molly had always stayed close to home but she visited less and less. Alice started college in New York so Carol had an empty nest. Molly could hardly bring herself to visit her mother anymore.

Molly had always been good at keeping secrets but this one was the most difficult. Every time she saw Carol, Molly imagined how devastated she would be if she knew the truth. It had become too painful pretending and so Molly simply avoided most situations where she would have to.

Capra stayed in touch, calling every so often to check in. It was clear to Molly that she felt responsible for this angst but there was no one else to talk to about it.

Some people were driven by ambition or lust or creativity. During college, it felt like Molly ran on anger. It helped her concentrate, to work hard. She graduated at the top of her class and had no trouble landing a job that paid well.

Adulthood was different.

Dave had been wise enough to set up trusts for the girls so Molly hadn’t racked up student debt. But now she had rent and bills and car insurance. She couldn’t stuff herself with fries from the dining hall and call that a meal. She had to work long hours for a demanding boss. She had to take care of herself. She had to go through the monotony of life.

When it came down to it, she just didn’t have the energy to be mad anymore.

Molly still held a flame inside. Mainly, she kicked herself for not getting to the gym more often. She hated that she was moving on. She had dulled as she got older, as she followed the news every day and saw that the world was a shitty place where justice was scarce.

Molly was in her childhood bedroom, going through layers of old school papers, polaroids from her friends’ bat mitzvahs, and certificates from karate tournaments like an archeological dig.

Carol was finally selling the family home. Downsizing. The girls were there to help clean things out, decide what should go to the Salvation Army and what would be going home with them.

It pained Molly to think about the house with another family living inside it. Even now in her late twenties, she still walked in the door and expected Dad to come around the corner from the kitchen, to say, “Hey, kiddo!” the way he used to. Once the house was sold, she would never experience that sensation again.

It was strange, Molly thought, how you could live somewhere for all of your life and then, one day, you’re locked out forever.

Carol was moving to a two bedroom condo closer to the city so she couldn’t take all of this junk with her. Molly packed a bankers box with some trophies and a few of her favorite books and brought it down to the kitchen.

Alice was leaned against the island, lazily sorting through cookbooks. Although the day called for packing boxes and hauling trash bags, she was dressed to the nines. Molly wondered if her sister owned casual clothes anymore. Alice had gotten a job at a fashion magazine and, although it seemed like she was low in the pecking order, she acted as though she was Anna Wintour herself.

“That’s all you’re taking?” Carol asked, eyeing the box.

Molly shrugged. She already had already taken the things that were most precious to her long ago.

“You know, Mom, if you don’t want to move, I can help you with the mortgage,” Molly said.

Molly had been saving up to buy a place of her own but she would happily give that up for her mother. Nowhere would ever feel like home the way this house did.

“It’s time,” Carol said. “I don’t need this much house to myself.”

Mom didn’t look her age but the bags under her eyes had grown more defined. She’d stopped coloring the streak of grey hair that had come in at her temple.

“It’s a good idea,” Alice jumped in. “Mom needs to get out there again. She hasn’t met any guys in the suburbs.”

The idea of Mom dating always made Molly bristle. She didn’t want Carol to be lonely but couldn’t picture her with a man who wasn’t Dad. The same way she couldn’t see her living in a different house.

“I’m going to work on the study,” Molly said and retreated to the home office.

This had been Dad’s room and, even though it had accumulated a mess of things over the years— old workout tapes, discarded hobbies, books about tidying— it still felt like his sanctuary. Molly picked through a shelf and found Dad’s high school yearbook. She hoped Mom wouldn’t mind if she took that home with her. She liked pictures of her father in his youth, skinny and bright eyed with scruffy hair.

Molly sat on the floor in front of the built-ins and fished out a few baskets and shoe boxes from the cabinets. The first one contained family photos. Vacation in the Bahamas, Alice’s 4th birthday party, Molly dressed as a ninja for Halloween. She went through each one with great ceremony. Molly already had a bunch of photos of her and Dad so she tucked these back in their box and put them in the ‘keep’ pile.

The next box was filled with cards. Sympathy cards. Molly sighed as she went into them. One from Carol’s coworkers with a rose on the front. Sending you comfort. A small card that looked like it had come with a floral arrangement from cousin John. He’ll be missed.

There was a card with a painting of a serene beach scene. With deepest sympathy. Molly opened it and read the short message.

So sorry for your loss. It feels like we’ve lost one of the family. Send my love to the girls. - Mac

The cold rage that had burnt out reignited in Molly’s stomach, her entire body so tight she almost shook. She could feel tears sting in her eyes.

That motherfucker. That fucking asshole had the audacity to send a sympathy card. To send his love. That piece of fucking shit. Molly almost crumpled the card in her hands, as if she could wring his neck through it, but just then Alice wandered in. Molly dropped the card into her lap.

“What are these?” her sister asked, crouching down and grabbing a photo. “Aw! You looked so cute!”

Molly swallowed hard and tried to slow her heart rate as Alice sifted through the pictures.

“Christ, why does Mom still have these?” Alice complained, picking up one of the sympathy cards.

“They’re for Dad,” Molly said.

“It’s not like he got to read them,” Alice replied.

She tossed it back onto the floor.

“Why are you always such a bitch about Dad?” Molly asked, the animosity she’d discovered in Mac’s card spilling out of her.

“Sorry I don’t worship him.” Alice rolled her eyes. “It’s not like he was ever around. And when he was, he spent all of his time with you.”

Alice crossed her arms and looked away self-consciously. Molly felt a jab in her heart. She knew Dad loved Alice. He’d done awful things so that she could take dance lessons and go off to a good school where she could study whatever she liked. Things that eventually got him killed. But Molly couldn’t tell her sister any of that so she just stared at Alice with her mouth half open.

“Girls, when you’re finished up there, lunch is ready!” Mom called from the kitchen.

“Call me a bitch…” Alice grumbled as she left the room.

Molly pushed the cards into the ‘Trash’ pile.

“Ow! Daddy! Molly hit me!” Alice whines.

“You hit me first!” Molly growls.

Dave glances at them in the rear view mirror.

“Is that true?” he asks.

“No!” Alice says.

He knows she’s lying. Molly’s sitting there with her arms crossed as Alice clutches her elbow dramatically, lips set in a pout.

He knows what he’s supposed to say. Some bullshit about being the bigger person, two wrongs don’t make a right. And if Carol was in the car maybe he would. But the world doesn’t work like that.

“If you hit somebody,” he warns, “don’t be surprised if they hit you back.”

Molly took Mac’s card with her. It was sitting on her passenger seat when she pulled away, Carol standing on the lawn, waving. Send my love to the girls. Every time she thought about it, she got so pissed off she wanted to puke.

She couldn’t even wait to get home before she was dialing Capra, one hand gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles ached.

“What’s up, kid?” Capra asked.

“I need to find Mac.”

/ / / / / part three soon!

@pascalslittlebrat @purplepascal042 @starlightmornings @mouthymandalorian @danniburgh @originallaura @tuskens-mando @221bshrlocked @wyn-dixie @goddessinwolfskin @cheekygeek05 @fangirl-316 @fairytale07 @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-skov @skulliebythesea @oceanablue @rebel-soldat @stevie75 @evyiione @buckwildbarnes @likes-good-reblogs-even-better @silverwolf319 @killermonkeys45 @velia27 @anxiousandboujee @amneris21 @green-socks @pedro4ever @pedrocentric @kesskirata

#dave york #dave york pit #dave york fic #pedro pascal characters #molly york #nothing but respect for my queen carol york

[allisonbaelfire]

Thorns & Roses

Pairings: Tyler Lockwood x Reader / Damon Salvatore!Brother x Reader / Stefan Salvatore!Twin Brother x Reader

Summary: After 50 years, your brothers asked you to come back to Mystic Falls. Katherine seemed to be back again, which is why they both worried about you and want to keep an eye on you. While your brothers tried to find Katherine, you came closer to a greater danger then a psychopathic vampire. A Werewolf.

Chapter Summary: Back in Mystic Falls, you encounter some problems, like a doppelganger, the crazy ex of your brothers who tries to kill you and building a normal life for you in the meantime. In addition, you and your brothers have neither seen nor heard of each other for the past 50 years and if you don't become a team again, Katherine has already won.

Word Count: 2,888

Authors Note: This is Part One of Thorns & Roses, I had to re-write it. I hope you liked it.

____________________________

A few months ago:

Step by step it became clearer to you, now there was no turning back. The sun felt warmer than usual as you walked through your hometown, for the first time in 50 years. 

It seemed that mystic falls hadn’t changed except for the people. Sure, it became more modern, but the people here seemed more careless. Kids were running around, others friendly greeting each other like nothing bad would ever happen in this small town.

Seeing all those happy people made you forget for a second why you actually came back. The woman who played your brothers like fools, turned them into vampires and forced them to turn you too, seemed to be back in their lives. which, unfortunately, would mean that she would be back into yours as well.

At your brothers' request, you came back to mystic falls, even if there were no concrete threats from Katherine's side against you, they wanted to keep an eye on you in order to be able to protect you, if necessary.

________________

Even after years of not having set one foot in the city, you remembered every corner, so it wasn't difficult to find your way back home. Salvatore Mansion.

Many memories came back when you stood in front of the huge house, good ones but also not so nice moments went through your head. Again, not much had changed except for the voices that you heard in the living room of the house.

“Katherine.” You threw your bag and suitcase and stormed into the house. 

Katherine and you had a much more strained past than she had with your brothers. You were always the only thing that stood between her and her desire for love and power. Because if your brothers loved one thing more than their sick love for Katherine, it was you.

“Long time no see, Bitch.” In a second you had her by the neck and pressed against the wall. “I should’ve known, they’re still to weak to get rid of you.” You clenched your teeth while stared at her. “But I promise you, I am not.”

Katherine gasped and tried to remove your hand from her throat, but to no avail. Stefan ran to you and tried to get you off of her, but you could easily push him away with your other hand as if it was nothing. 

Damon came to you and took your face in his hands, "it's nice to see you Y/N, now let her down." he commended calm. "It's not Katherine.“

You didn't believe a word. He loved Katherine too, probably more than Stefan ever did, of course Damon would try to protect her. You just squeezed her throat even more and smirked while doing so, which made him nervous but he didn't give you a choice. Even if you were stronger than Stefan, Damon could pull you away from her.

He throw you against the wall while Katherine fell to the ground. Seeing how you older brother helped her to get on her feet made your blood boil inside you.

You balled your fists, “I swear, if you don’t rip her stone cold heart out of her chest, right now-” 

Stefan got back up and ran to Katherine, she snuggled up against him, still trying to breathe while he held her tight. You couldn't stand this sight and were already looking for a way to kill her in the next few seconds.

“My- my Name is Elena.” 

“And mine is Death.” You growled.

Damon couldn’t help but chuckle, he missed having somone as sarcastic as him around. He took your hand and kissed the top of it. “Glad to have you back sissy, now sit down.”

________________ 

Your brothers told you about Elena being Katherine's doppelganger. She was Stefan's girlfriend and Katherine was after her, presumably out of jealousy, but they didn't know for sure. 

Normally you would have had a harder time believing all of this, but an old friend of yours told you a similar story a long time ago. But this similarity that Katherine and Elena shared, their looks, voice ... you could only hope for Elena's sake, that they were different in character, otherwise she would be back on your death list.

Elena seemed just as shocked as you, regardless of the fact that you tried to kill her, she looked like you were a ghost.

“Never seen a Vampire before, Darling?” You couldn’t stop starring at her too. Elena held her throat and her eyes wandered to Stefan’s obviously confused. “Oh, Stefan didn’t mention his Twin? Shocker.”

You went to Damon's personal bourbon shelf and took out his favorite drink, even though he didn't like sharing it, you were the only one whom he wouldn’t cut of their hand just by trying to get to his precious drop.

“Told you, she’d be pissed.” Damon took a sip of your drink, winking at Stefan.

You angrily took your glass from his hand,  “You’re not better.” you hissed. “No Calls, no texts, no nothing - for 50 years.” Your tone became more serious until you put the pieces together. “And now you want me back here to protect me? Nah.” You faked a laugh, and finished the glass all at once without grimacing, Damon was a little impressed by that. “Unbelievable. You wanted me here to protect her.”

Elena visibly uncomfortable, gave Stefan a disappointing glimpse, by that you could conclude that she actually had no idea what was going on and would’ve disagreed with them to just call you for her protection. 

From the looks of your brothers you could clearly see that it was Stefan's idea. He was the one who tried really hard not to lock with your eyes while Damon just waited for you to explode again.

Stefan scratched his neck. “Y/N, look-”

While Stefan tried to find his words, you turned around to have Damon re-fill you glass with his bourbon.

Because of Stefan’s blood diet, he wasn't even close to be strong enough to take on Katherine, but since you and Damon drank human blood, together - you were strong enough to take it up against her.

You raised your drink and with one sip the glas was empty. Your face didn't twist, which is why Stefan knew it was better not to say another word now.

“It was nice meeting you, Elena.” You gave her a friendly smirk. “I’m sorry but I can’t help you.”

When you were about to head to the exit, Damon was already rushing in front of you. He gave you a look, that said more than his words could have. 

You stared at him, "Do you know what it feels like when your family doesn't even ask about you for years? Oh no, because at least one sibling did.“ You lifted your arms.

Damon’s mind drifted away for a second as he remembered a darker time in his life, a time when he had turned off his emotions again. You found him back then, after months of searching for Damon, you helped him to become himself again, only so that he could then leave you and keep looking for Katherine.

You pushed him aside, “My Bags, in my room.” then you left the house.

________________

You didn't like staying to protect a stranger who also looked like the person you hated most. Still, Elena seemed different even if the story repeated itself, but she was important to both of your brothers and your brothers were important to you.  You knew if they tried to take down Katherine on their own they would both die trying, at least together you had a chance.  

But that didn't mean that you wouldn't try everything to be able to lead a normal life, at least as much as possible for a vampire.

________________

Now:

It wasn’t easy for you living with your brothers, you were still very disappointed with the real reason why they wanted you back. You tried to avoid them the best you could. 

You had decided that it would be a good idea to go back having a normal life, which meant to go to high school for at least the semblance of normality. 

“Hey Salvatore.”

You recognized the voice that was calling you. Smiling, you turned around while Tyler Lockwood already threw an arm around you.

“Hey, Stranger.” You grinned.

He scoffed, “Oh, come on. I had practice yesterday.”

“With a Cheerleader or the Team?” You raised an eyebrow. „You missed movie night.“

Tyler has become a good friend over the past few months, hard for some to believe, as Tyler was more interested in other things about women than just friendship, at least that's what they told each other at school.

Tyler pulled you into both of his arms, “Y/N,” he focused on your eyes, smiling softly. “You’re the only one for me.” 

You chuckled and pushed him soft away from you.

You probably wouldn't have become friends either, if you hadn't been assigned to a school project together. At first, Tyler flirted with you, but when he knew you were the twin sister of Stefan Salvatore, it stopped. During that time you got to know him better. Tyler was very popular at school, but he secretly seemed to have be a loner. Except for Matt, he didn't really let anyone get under his skin until you came.

“Do you’ve planes for tonight?” He asked but didn’t bother letting you answer. “Great. I’ll see you at 8 at my house, you’ll need a dress and a mask.” Tyler smirked.

“Tyler- I-”

He shook his hand and grabbed gently your face. “No, you’re not gonna get out of this. If I’ve to attend there, you too.” Tyler took your hand and spun you around. „I promise to show you my famous dance moves.“

You had to laugh but suddenly your face felt really warm. You quickly tried to hide it from him and put your hands on your cheeks, which made Tyler smile. 

You liked Tyler very much, against your brothers' will. Tyler's bloodline came from a long number of werewolves, the only thing that could harm a vampire, also they didn’t like him much. 

“You’re my best friend.” He added soft.

Your heart stung a bit, best friend, huh? You didn't change your face, on the contrary, you smiled and agreed. Even if you wouldn't admit it in front of him, Tyler was more to you, even if he didn't feel that way.

“Okay, I’ll come.” 

Tyler kissed your forehead. “Great, see you later!”

Anyways, you planned to got to the Masquerade Ball either way. Damon and Stefan argued too loudly this morning, probably they didn't know that you were still home, otherwise they would have been more careful and wouldn’t have mentioned that Katherine really was back and planned to go to the ball today. Otherwise you’d have hunted her down by yourself.

________________

While Damon and Stefan were trying not to seem to suspicious as they prepared for tonight, you put on your dress (X) and put your mask in your pocket. 

“Hey, Y/N” Stefan shouted. “We’ll be back late tonight, so don’t wait for us.” 

“No, no, no. Did I mention, no?” Damon complained when he noticed you in your dress coming down the stairs.

You smirked. “I got myself a dress that doesn't steal the show too much, don’t you like it?”

“You heard us this morning, didn’t you?” Stefan helped you with the stairs.

“She hates you too, remember?” Damon asked in a serious tone to cover up being worried. “Y/N, she wants you dead.”

“So what do you want me to do? You wanted me here, extra protection for Elena, do you remember?” You shrugged your shoulders. “Besides, I've already told Tyler that I'll be there. If I don't come, it will be obvious-” You paused and looked at your brothers. “-since you still have the moonstone.”

Your brothers looked at you questioningly. They hadn't told you anything for months, also hushed up that Katherine was already back in Town, but they probably forgot that you were looking for Katherine too. Your eyes and ears were everywhere. The sooner you found her, the sooner you and your brothers could be family again. She seemed also to be the girlfriend of Tyler's uncle and protecting Tyler was just as important. 

“First, I don’t care about that dog-” Doman started.

But your brothers didn’t want you to have anything to do with the plan. The plan was already done and that included you and Elena to stay it out.

He took a deep breath. "-Second, fine." Damon came to you, now he couldn't hide how worried he was about you. “But you’re only there for distraction. As soon as we trapped her, you go home and wait for us. If anything gets wrong, you grab Elena and run.”

Damon knew you wouldn’t give up and since you apparently knew as much as they did, you could really be of help. Katherine has been jealous of you since she saw you for the first time, you were in her way - as well as Elena was. You both would be her target.

Stefan was clearly against including you into the plan. You haven't really gotten close in the last few months, which was hard because of Katherine and all that was going on also you didn’t make it easy for him, but Stefan didn't want to put you in any danger either.

“Come on, Stefan.” Damon spoke. “You’re still not strong enough to go against Katherine. Y/N can at least distract her long enough so I can stab her.”

“Sorry Boys, but we need Y/N.” Bonnie entered the front door. “She’s the best bait we’ve besides Elena. No offense.” She smiled friendly in your direction.

“None taken, Witchy.” 

Stefan shook his head and went out the door. You looked at the floor and wondered what Stefan's problem was. He wanted you to come back and help get rid of Katherine. Damon gave you an approving look and touched your shoulder.

“As soon as this is over, we’ll be a family again.” 

His words surprised you. Stefan and you were more like family people. Which was why Damon’s words meant very much. You turned to him and put your arms around his back. He took you in his arms and kissed your head.

You let him go and went outside where you found Stefan leaning against the wall, hands in his pocket while gazing at the stars.

________________

“Hey big brother.” He ignored you. “You look handsome in a suit.” Stefan looked in the direction of the forest, you went to him and leaned against his arm. “At least, Elena will be safe.”

He turned to you irritated. "You think that's the only thing I care about?!"

You raised an eyebrow, "Well, at least for the last few months. You didn't even pay much attention to me at school - although we have the same classes together."

Stefan didn't say a word, but in his head he agreed with you. "I didn't want you to come home because of this, not to be a bait.." he couldn’t look at you. “The last time we saw each other, I was nothing more than a callous ripper. Y/N, I hurt you.”

You had almost suppressed it, but with Stefan's words the memories came back. You tried together with Lexi to bring back Stefan’s emotions after he flipped the switch, which worked - but what you brought back was anger. At that time he was angry that you had left him alone with Damon to build a normal life with trying to suppress vampirism.  In this time he was much stronger than you. He forced you to drink blood - lots of blood, or he’d kill random people while Lexi and you had to clean up after him. 

“You were right to be mad at me.” You replied softly.

“True but I shouldn’t have said all those things or made you-” Your eyes met. “Do you remember, how as children, we always knew exactly when one of us was feeling bad?”

“Twin Telepathy.”

“Call it how you want but it got stronger as we became vampires. I made myself believe, if you’d stop drinking blood, our connection would be gone.”

Stefan and you never said it out loud. But it was the truth. When you became vampires, you felt each other's emotions even stronger than ever before, even over the years and at a distance. If you concentrated you could feel each other.

“I know this was the reason why you left us in the first place. You couldn’t bare handling my feelings and your own, Damon and you never wanted to be Vampires.”

“Oh, cut the crap. We’re over this.” You replied harsh. “The only thing you should have done would be to contact me for the past 50 years.” You turned around to see Damon standing in the door frame. “That goes for both of you.”

You took Stefan's hand and went with him over to Damon to take his hand too. "Lets get rid of that bitch and get our lives back.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass” Damon spoke.

“Shut it, you missed me.”

_____________________________

This actually took me some hours, I’d really love to know what you think about the first part :)

Here is Part Two -> Here!

#tyler lockwood #tyler lockwood fanfic #tyler lockwood fanfiction #tyler lockwood imagine #tyler lockwood x reader #Stefan Salvatore #stefan salvatore imagine #stefan salvatore fanfiction #stefan salvatore imagines #stefan salvatore x reader #damon salvatore #damon salvatore fanfic #damon salvatore imagines #damon salvatore imagine #tvd #tvd imagine #tvd fanfiction #katherine pierce #katherine pierce x reader #elena gilbert #elena gilbert imagine

[giorno-plays-piano]

Numb

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, touch-starved reader, death of minor characters.

Words: 2121.

Summary: As a granddaughter of one of HYDRA's operatives, you are hunted down just like anyone who has something to do with the organization. You know the Soldier is coming for you.

P.S. This was influenced by the dream I saw last night and this precious ask.

________________

Backing away from a tall muscular man with a metal arm shining in the dim light, you gasped, watching him advance on you with a dark expression on his face. You knew him - he was the infamous Bucky Barnes, one of the former Assets of the organization. You had never seen him personally and only learnt about him when he escaped. That day your grandfather, one of HYDRA's operatives, was all blood and thunder as he screamed at the agents on the top of his mighty voice for the loss of one of the most useful assassins of the organization.

After that everything started falling apart. HYDRA was disintegrated after the Avengers started a witch hunt, and most people involved went into hiding. Although your grandfather, one of the leaders of the organization, did everything to protect both you and himself, you knew one day the Soldier would return. A part of you had accepted this a long time ago, knowing you would pay for everything your grandfather did. Of only your parents were still there. Maybe then you wouldn't end up in the arms of HYDRA's vile men and pay for something you had never done or agreed to.

You felt the cold wall behind your back, reaching the end of the room, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from the Soldier with Beretta in his hand. Gulping down, you stared in horror at his stony expression, knowing he had no sympathy for whoever was involved with HYDRA. You would die. You would die any moment once he lifted his arm with a gun.

"Could you kiss me?" You whispered as he came closer, your body trembling like a leaf. "I have never kissed in my entire life."

The man tilted his head to the side, watching you biting your lips. He probably thought you went insane, scared to death by his sudden appearance in the safehouse you were held. Had you really gone mad?

"Please, before you shoot me." You asked in despair, tears running down your cheeks. "I want to know how the kiss feels."

You said the truth, you had never been kissed before, never been touched by a man, never loved anyone, and it was the only thing you regretted. What was it like to be kissed? Was it truly as wonderful as all the books and movies promised, making you feel butterflies in your stomach? Was it unpleasant? You'd prefer to do it with someone you loved, but you didn't have much of a choice. You'd be really lucky to get to know this feeling at all before the Soldier murdered you.

As he came so close you could feel his calm breath on your skin, you lowered your gaze, afraid to look him in his cold eyes lacking any emotion. You didn't expect him to lay his metal hand on your shoulder, making you move your head up a bit when he closed that little distance between you, touching your lips with his.

He was gentle. His touch was warm, and you felt how soft his lips were, pressing into yours as he caressed your hair tenderly. It was pleasant. Kissing felt as nice as books claimed. Never doing it before was worth regretting, indeed, if even the world's deadliest assassin's kiss brought you so much pleasure.

You didn't want it to end, but the Soldier partied from you with a soft sigh, and you closed your eyes when his arm moved from your hair to your neck. His touch was turning suffocating, and you whimpered quietly, tears streaming down again. You prayed it to end quickly. You deserved a quick death, you hoped.

As the world turned black, the last thing you heard was the Soldier's calm breathing.

____________

When you opened your eyes, it was so dark you couldn't see the ceiling as you stared into the black mass surrounding you, trying to understand what was happening. Moving your hand to your right, you looked for the light switch of a lamp on your nightstand - you asked for it in every safehouse you had been placed. It was one of the few routine things you had pleasure to have since you went in hiding.

You were always in hiding even before the Avengers learnt about HYDRA's infiltration into S.H.I.E.L.D.

As the light flicked, you stared at the room you had never been before, watching drawers and empty shelves with rising concern. There was a table and a chair to your right, and then you saw a huge metal door as if your were put in a prison cell. It didn't look like a safehouse at all.

You sensed a slight movement to your left, and your head snapped as you saw a man sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. Although the light wasn't reaching him much to let you see him properly, you remembered those long disheveled hair and piercing gaze of cold blue eyes. It was the Soldier.

Suddenly, you remembered as he broke into the last safehouse you were brought to, seemingly killing every agent who was placed there to protect you. You remembered as he kissed you before everything went black.

"If I'm dead, why are you here with me?" You whispered, watching him staring back at you as you crawled back and took a pillow in your arms, pressing it into your belly.

"You aren't dead." The man said quietly as he stood up from the chair, moving slowly to you, hiding behind the pillow as if it were a shield. "You are safe."

You didn't agree. Nowhere was safe for you, especially when you were captured by the ones hunting HYDRA down. Your grandfather made it clear - once you were taken, no one would try saving you. In fact, those who protected you before would turn against you since you'd seen too much to be left alive in the arms of Avengers. You were doomed either way.

Maybe the heroes would be kind enough to let you die quickly without much pain. A bullet in your skull would do.

"When is the Interrogation?" You asked quietly, hugging a pillow to have at least some comfort. You needed someone to snuggle against so badly, but the only one in the room was the assassin sent to murder you at one point or other. If only your parents were here. A friend. Anyone who had been kind to you once.

"There will be no interrogation." He said as he sat down on your bed close to you, his hand near your feet as you shivered, too frightened to look at the man. "No one knows you are here, princess."

You raised your eyes at him, blinking the tears away. Did he say the truth? No interrogation? You suspected you had no vital information the Avengers didn't already know, but you thought you would be tortured as most prisoners like you had been to squeeze every bit of knowledge you had. Yet if no one but the Soldier knew about you being here...

You wept, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand.

"My father used to call me that. 'My princess'." You smiled weakly, clinging to the pillow even more. You needed someone's warmth so bad.

Soldat's bared hand found yours as he caressed it gently, making you let go of your improvised kevlar. His touch was pleasant, and you thought of his kiss back then. You had never thought someone frightening like him could ever be so tender with a woman.

"They'll find me, anyway." Your whisper was barely audible. "They always did."

Was it a ghost of a smile you saw on his face?

"I am better at hiding than them." He brushed away the strands of hair out of your face, but took his arm away when he sensed you getting scared, your body getting tense again. "You will always be safe with me."

The Soldier sounded almost like a lover. That is, you thought a lover would sound like that. He didn't look like all those men you saw in the countless romcoms with heart eyes, but something in him was both unsettling and drawing you to him. Oddly, he wasn't as cold and menacing as before despite the dark glint you saw in his eyes.

You thought how miserable you had become, searching for a little warmth and love from people unable to give it anyone at all. None of the agents sent to you were willing to talk even if your grandfather didn't forbid them. All conversations felt forced, not genuine, and soon you dropped your attempts to get to know any of those people better. But you weren't allowed to leave the house on your own even before the witch hunt. You had no friends, no people who wouldn't be involved with HYDRA one way or another.

It's not safe for you, your grandfather said. Anyone out there could be an enemy of the organization, meaning yours too. Because of that, you had spent many years in pretty much total isolation, living behind the doors of your secured home where no one particularly cared about anything except your physical wellbeing. Well, it could have been much worse, you knew it, but it didn't make your life any easier. You were still a prisoner. Maybe one day your grandfather wanted you to get married to some HYDRA operative to strengthen his own position within the organization, and that's why he bothered to keep you.

Nevertheless, you knew little about the outside world and human relationships. You could only experience it through reading books and watching movies, craving for warmth so desperately you were ready to ask the first person you saw from the outside of the organization to kiss you. Ironically, he belonged to the same kind of people who guarded you all those years. Or so you thought.

"I can't live like that." You whispered, lowering your head and grasping the blanket in your hands. "This isn't life... Having no family, no friends. I'm all alone. I don't even remember the last time I hugged anyone."

"You can hug me."

Raising your eyes, you saw him watching you. The Soldier didn't try coming closer to you, apparently, giving you a choice. Why was he doing that? All of that? Why taking you here and not finishing you off like all others who had something to do with the organization? You had hard time believing the Soldat pitied you.

Yet here you were, brought God knows where, staying in one room with the man who didn't hurt you and even tried giving you some comfort. Maybe he was tricking you, but he had nothing to gain from it.

Whatever. Your life wouldn't end peacefully, anyway.

You reached to him, snuggling against Soldier's body in pathetic attempt to feel anything, throwing your arms around his waist. For a second you thought he would slap your hands away, but instead you felt him caressing your back carefully, his flesh arm touching the top of your head. You still remembered your father doing it when you were awoken by the thunder and trembled in bed. Soldier's body was as warm as his.

Squeezing your eyes shut to stop tears from falling, you hid your face in his chest, finally feeling that warmth you were searching for. As the Soldier craddled you in his arms, you felt... safe? Protected? Slowly, your body was relaxing against his as you exhaled loudly, his fingers buried in your hair.

"I can be your friend." The man said calmly, his eyes dark, but not scary. "If you don't have anyone else, you can have me."

You whimpered, your head almost crushing to his chest as you clinged to him.

"I can give you things you want to have."

"These are not things."

"Whatever you want, princess. You just have to ask." His low, husky voice should have scared you, but listening to the words you had always wanted to hear made you almost hopeful. Was he serious? Did Soldier really want to be the one close to you? You supposed the Avengers wouldn't be too happy to learn about it. Maybe that's why he hid you here.

Was he really taking pity on you?

"Could you kiss me on the forehead, please?" You mumbled and sensed him bowing his head closer as his hair brushed against your face. He then left a kiss on your forehead just as you asked him, and you finally cried, clenching his clothes to bring him even closer to you. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"You will always be safe with me." You heard him whisper above your head.

_____________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @iheartsebastianstan

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #yandere