#Tender Contract Management Course

[theonottsbxtch]

CONFIDENCE | LS2

an: everyone turn around and say thank you @iimplicitt for writing the smut for this. i’m useless in that department but she’s not! please go follow her and appreciate her 💜 based off of this request

wc: 2.3k

warnings: smut, minors dni!!!

LOGAN PUSHED THE HOTEL room door shut with a soft click, the cool draft of the air-conditioned room a stark contrast to the muggy air of the track. He set the envelope down on the desk, the bold logo of his new racing team staring back at him like a challenge he wasn’t sure he was ready to accept. His fingers lingered over the seal, the weight of what he had done finally sinking in.

He had signed the contract.

It wasn’t Formula One, and he would never pretend it was, but it was something. A chance. A path back to the adrenaline-laced life he craved. But the words that should have been triumphant now felt heavy in his chest. He glanced over to the bed, where she lay curled up beneath the rumpled sheets, her dark hair spilling over the pillow in disarray.

She had followed him halfway across the world, leaving behind the gilded life of the paddock—the life she had known forever—for his sake. Her support had been relentless, fierce even, and yet, telling her about this felt harder than signing away the next year of his life. Logan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, his racing-worn hands trembling slightly as he moved towards the bed.

She was half-covered by the sheet, his oversized T-shirt slipping off one shoulder to reveal smooth skin. Her breathing was soft and steady, her lips parted slightly as she remained lost in sleep. For a moment, he stood still, watching her. She always managed to look so peaceful in moments like these, a stark contrast to the chaos that had consumed their lives for months.

“Hey,” he murmured, crouching down beside her. His voice was soft, almost apologetic as he brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. She stirred slightly, her lashes fluttering, and a sleepy groan escaped her lips.

“Logan?” Her voice was a mix of grogginess and confusion, her eyes half-opening to find him kneeling by her side.

“Sorry to wake you,” he said, his lips curving into a small, sheepish smile. “I just… I didn’t want to wait.”

She shifted, propping herself up on one elbow. The blanket slipped down to her waist, and the sight of her in his shirt, her bare legs tangled in the sheets, made something tighten in his chest. “What is it?” she asked, her voice still soft but edged with curiosity.

He swallowed, suddenly unsure how to start. “I… I did it. I signed the contract.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the last remnants of sleep vanishing. She pushed herself upright, the movement causing her shirt to ride up slightly. “You did?” she asked, her tone unreadable.

“Yeah.” He looked down at his hands, suddenly feeling exposed. “It’s not what we talked about, but it’s a good team. Good people. And they think I’ve got something left in me.”

There was a pause, and then she reached out, her fingers sliding gently under his chin to tilt his face up to meet hers. Her expression softened, a smile spreading across her lips. “Of course you do,” she said, her voice steady and certain. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

Logan exhaled a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. Her unwavering belief in him always caught him off guard. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers, letting her warmth soothe the frayed edges of his nerves.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he admitted.

“You’re wrong,” she whispered, her hands slipping around his neck to pull him closer. “You just needed to remember who you are.”

The kiss came naturally, a slow and tender thing that grew deeper as their bodies closed the distance. Her hands trailed down his back, and he lifted her effortlessly, the sheet falling away as he settled her onto her feet. She was his anchor and his refuge, and in that moment, he let himself forget everything else but her.

Logan drew back just enough to meet her gaze, his fingers tangling in the hem of his shirt she wore. Slowly, he eased it upward, his knuckles brushing against her skin, her breath hitching at the feather-light touch. She raised her arms without hesitation, letting him slide the shirt over her head, revealing her completely to him in the dim light.

His own shirt was next. She reached for it, her hands firm but unhurried as she worked it over his shoulders. Her nails dragged down his stomach after he had shrugged his shirt off. Logan’s tanned skin glowed in the low light of their hotel room and his muscles were taut under her touch. Her eyes flicked up to his face, her drowsiness completely evaporated as she took in the dark look of his blue gaze and how his lips pulled back in a smile that left a promise of being gentle long forgotten. There was something different about him, yet familiar.

He was so handsome. His dirty blond hair was askew in many directions, giving him an unkempt look and helmet lines were still imprinted along his cheekbones. She loved helmet lines on him, it was ridiculously attractive but it felt so silly to admit. She bit her lip, suddenly feeling a bit shy under his intense gaze. She hadn’t seen him so… she didn’t even know how to describe it. But he was carrying himself differently and it was driving her wild.

His hands danced up her bare sides, making her shiver despite the warm temperature of the room. Logan’s fingers were rough, his hands well calloused over the years and even the faintest of touches was making her nerves feel as if they were turning into a mess of lustful sludge. The smile on his face deepened at her clear physical reaction to him, dimples appearing in his cheeks as his hands rested at her throat to cup it and push his thumbs up under her chin to tilt her head back.

“Mine?” he hummed, his voice making her heart stutter pathetically in her chest and she nodded as she rested her hands over his wrists.

“Hm?” She was sure she looked as dazed as she felt.

Logan laughed lightly as he tilted his head down, his warm breath that smelled of coffee teased her senses. “All mine,” he confirmed for her before pressing his mouth to hers again.

A whine left her at the contact, completely unwarranted and she hadn’t the faintest clue where it had come from. But with the way Logan groaned into the kiss and held onto her tighter, she figured she should keep making noises.

They stumbled backward, recklessly navigating the short distance to the bed. Their bodies fell into the threaded cotton heavily and neither cared how much ruckus they might’ve been causing. Logan was on top of her, the heat from his body something akin to heaven and one of his knees nudged her legs open so he could rest his hips against hers.

On instinct, her hands danced down to take hold of his belt to undo it. But when the kiss broke off and one of his large hands clamped over her wrists to stop her movements, she blinked up at him. Equal parts confused and annoyed.

For a while they had fallen into the routine where she took care of him. She didn’t mind, in all honesty. She loved making him feel good in any way she was capable. She loved being able to help make him relax. The past two years had almost ruined his mental health completely and she always tried to find ways to cheer him up, sexually or not. But she knew getting him off was always a great way for him to release tension.

Logan sat up on his knees, still trapping her beneath him and he took her bound hands and slowly lifted them above her head before leaning down and pressing them into the mattress, his face hovering over hers. Her breath caught when she realized what exactly was happening. The way his pupils were blown wide as he looked at her was a tall tale sign tonight was going to be something different.

“Don’t move until I say so.” His voice was sharp despite the fact the words were whispered.

Her mouth watered, which was pathetic. She blinked up at him stupidly like a deer caught in headlights.

He raised a brow at her, his free hand coming up to grip her jaw firmly but not enough to actually hurt. “Okay?”

She nodded but he shook his head. “I wanna hear you, baby. Tell me you know what to do.”

Swallowing thickly, she felt chills ravish her skin as his fingers trailed down her throat, further down between the cavern of her breast before resting and the edge of her underwear. Logan looked up at her, patient and expecting. Not going any further and deciding to toy with the little bow that was stitched onto the hem of her panties.

“Okay, darling.”

The instant glimmer that seemed to flick over his eyes as he gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher was something she wanted engraved into her memory for the rest of eternity. Words such as yearning began to cross her mind but her brain quickly short circuited as her underwear was practically ripped off her and she felt his warm mouth latch onto her down there.

“Oh my god,” she choked out, much louder than she probably should’ve and not a moment later she felt one of Logan’s hands sneak up and curl around her throat. His other hand maneuvering one of her legs to drape over his shoulder before pulling the skin below her navel taught to fully expose herself to his wanting mouth.

She felt dizzy as his mouth pressed against her, the pressure delirious and his tongue made tight circles on her clit before flattening to drag up over it. Only for him to repeat the process at a pace that made her feel like she was already at a tipping point. A moan tore up her throat, but the pressure of his large hand against her skin made the sound strangled and only seemed to motivate him further.

A groan left his own lips and sent vibrations ringing through her. She barely registered the the feel of his tongue dragging up and over her stomach, landing on one her breasts and the sound of fabric rustling when she felt something much larger and more stiff than his tongue nudge at her entrance.

A gasp left her when she felt his hips slide against hers, entering her in one swift motion and filling her completely. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he said hotly against her skin as he started moving, letting her adjust for only a moment before picking up a pace that was nearly brutal.

She couldn’t help the delirious laugh that left her lips, feeling in bliss as the sound of his skin hitting hers echoed in the room and her stomach was winding itself up in knots. Logan leaned up slightly, his eyes catching on something ahead of them before taking her chin and pushing it back so she could see the wall behind them.

A mirror.

She immediately blushed the sight of him fucking her, about to look away but his grip tightened and she could see him smiling.

“Look at you, my hot girlfriend.”

She laughed again, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt but her eyes widened suddenly when he pulled out and flipped her around on her stomach. “Logan-“

His large hands gripped under her hips, yanking them upward so she was on her knees and arched for him. She barely had time to expel a breath when he entered her again, hips slamming against hers and his cock hitting so deep it brushed against her cervix. She cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure as her fingers dug themselves into the sheets.

He leaned over her, his body pressed against hers and so warm, sweat slicking both of their skin. His warm breath ghosted over her ear as his eyes locked onto hers in the mirror. God, she looked like a whore. Her hair a mess and face flushed red, lips swollen and mouth ajar as her body slid against the sheets with each thrust of him into her.

“What would your dad say?”

Her father would probably have a stroke if he knew the driver he had fired recently was secretly dating his daughter, let alone fucking her like she was some sort of slut. A whine left her and she buried her face in the bedding when one of his hands snaked over her belly and found her clit, rubbing tight circles into it and she felt her legs begin to tremble.

An opiate-like haze began to fog up her senses and Logan’s other hand wound itself in her hair, yanking her head up. “Lemme see you, baby. Be good for me.”

When his fingers added just a bit more pressure to her clit, he thrusted inside her at the same time and her eyes rolled back and she fell over the edge almost violently. The sound that left her lips sounded distant and not quite herself, being clouded with the echoes of the groan that left Logan as his hands tightened on her hips. His grip so hard she was sure there might’ve been bruises left in the shape of his fingertips but the pressure was instantly forgotten when she felt him come inside of her.

They collapsed together, her falling flat on her stomach and he shifted slightly to the side so he didn’t crush her under his body. The room was boiling but the comfort of him being so close was something she would never get tired of.

She sighed in content as his fingers brushed her hair away from her face and she peeked up at him, face flushed and her own pupils probably blown as wide as his.

“Oh my God,” she panted, catching her breath. “I think I like this new version of you.”

Logan’s hans dropped from her hair as he pulled her close to him, both of them were sweaty and messy.

But she didn’t mind, she was glad to have her Logan back.

the end.

[pinkslipxox]

Hey gorgeous! I hope all is well. I have a small request if that's okay, I'm not sure if your request are open at the moment so please feel free to delete this ask lol.

Billie eilish x reader

Reader is in labour, and Billie is counting how far apart our contractions are. It's very early in the morning, and we are in a lot of pain, but billie is right there beside us.

hola, preciosa! Yes ofc! Hope you like it 🙈❤️

——————————————————————————

The morning light, a pale gold, filters through the sheer curtains of your bedroom, signaling the dawn of a new day and a new chapter. A soft whimper escapes your lips as another contraction courses through your body, this one stronger than the last one, and you grip the bedsheets for support. Billie, your wife, is right by your side, her presence comforting amidst the lingering tension in the air.

Billie gently takes your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. She’s wearing one of her oversized hoodies, the fabric soft and comforting, just like her touch. Her hair is a tousled mess, falling into her eyes, but she doesn’t mind. She’s focused on you, her sweet gaze never leaving your face, and it fills you with warmth, soothing the ache that pulses through you.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Billie murmurs, her voice low and calming. “Let’s breathe through this one together. In and out.” She demonstrates, and you follow her lead, trying to match her rhythm. With each breath, you feel the tension ease just a little, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

As the contraction subsides, you lean back against the pillows, letting out a shaky breath. Billie brushes a gentle hand against your forehead, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re doing amazing, Y/N,” she whispers, her voice laced with admiration. “I’m right here with you.”

You manage a small smile, though it’s quickly replaced with a grimace as another contraction hits. The wave of discomfort crashes down once more, and you grip the sheets, your knuckles turning white. Billie immediately picks up on your discomfort. “Okay, that’s it,” she says softly, counting under her breath. “Let’s time it. How far apart are they now?”

“Maybe... six minutes?” you manage to say, your voice strained but determined.

“Six minutes it is,” she nods, pulling her phone from her pocket to document the timing. But it’s her nurturing gaze that keeps you grounded, her gentle fingers tracing soothing patterns on your arm. “Hey, look at me,” she prompts, and you meet her eyes. “You’re going to be the most incredible mom. I believe in you, sweetheart.”

You nod, trying to focus on the sound of her voice. “It hurts, Billie…,” you admit, your voice shaky.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” She leans in closer, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Her touch is tender, almost reverent, as if she’s handling a precious treasure. “You’re doing so amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

You manage a small smile, the love in her eyes making the pain a little more bearable. Billie brushes her thumb across your cheek, and for a moment, the world outside fades away. In this intimate cocoon, it’s just you and her, the love that binds you stronger than ever.

“I love you, Y/N,” Billie whispers, pulling back but keeping her forehead pressed to yours. “You’re my everything, and soon we’ll have our little one here, too.”

Your heart swells at her words, and as another contraction begins to rise, you squeeze her hand tighter, feeling both the pain and the joy of bringing new life into the world. In that moment, surrounded by Billie’s love, you know you can get through anything.

[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

L Lawliet x reader Ficlet: The billionaire and the Prostitute

This is just an idea I've been toying with, I thought it'd be nice to get a bit of it out there :) I don't think this classifies as angst? It doesn't feel very angsty to me. Let me know how you feel about this concept!

L loves you.

He does love you, deeply. He tells you every night you're together, when you meet in secret.

The only problem is you're a prostitute, and you constantly remind him you don't love him back.

A high-end prostitute, to be specific. The kind that have contracts and background checks and astronomical rates. L is your most exclusive caller, he utilizes your services with the utmost discretion, and his contract is the most detailed and lengthy of any of them. Everything about him is shrouded in mystery. You don't even know what he does.

He invites you over, and while his protocols are...extensive, his stacks of cash are brand new. Sometimes you have sex, but most times he simply enjoys your company. You cuddle, or play chess, or talk. He tells you you're smart, or that you're interesting, or that if you wanted more to do with your life he'd gladly fund it. You tell him that it's alright. You don't want to take advantage of him, it already makes you feel bad to sleep with him, knowing that he's pining for you with no return. He has very little time, as you've discovered, and yet he chooses to spend it with you, because once again, he loves you. You're not sure how he's managed to do it, he doesn't seem like the type to fall easily, but he fell. You know the moment he did, because he told you. He had brought you in, and when you arrived he was seated in front of a chess table. 

He doesn't look up. "Come play with me."

"I...don't know how," you say politely.

"I can teach you. sit. Unless...you'd rather do something else."

"I can try."

so you sat, and he taught you. You played a few rounds, you lost all of them, and he made no remark about it.

Afterward, the two of you sat there, his eyes locked on yours. It was all silence for a moment.

"What," you ask, a nervous smile on your face. 

"I love you," he says bluntly.

"I don't," you respond instantly.

"I know."

And that was that.

It doesn't make sense to you, anyway. He's rich and crazy, He should be with someone equally rich and crazy...It doesn't matter if he makes you laugh, or if he looks at you like you mean something, or if he's...well, if he's surprisingly good with his tongue. You were too independent to be tied down, he doesn't even know you that well, he's obviously only in love with the idea of you. 

You continue your visits with him, which recently consist of more sex. You suspect he wants an excuse to touch you. He tells you afterward that he loves you, and you tell him you don't. He looks unfazed, says that he knows, but you don't imagine it feels good to be rejected so often. He's too sweet with you, that's why you can't love him. Sensitive guys aren't your thing...of course, he's not exactly sensitive, more so tender...the way he kisses your wrists, or traces your collar...it's...he's...

The rich, eccentric billionare and the high-end prostitute. No, you are not star-crossed lovers. No, you will grow feelings from him. Yes, his feelings are unrequited. That's how it should be. You refuse to fall in love.

[gingerteawrites]

CARE - Where Zhongli takes care of sick reader

A/N: I've been feeling pretty unwell these past few days, so of course I had to make it a fictional character's problem. I'm also trying to post more often, but finals season is kicking my butt. I'm SO looking forward to winter break.

Content: Zhongli x reader, comfort, fluff.

Banner by: @anitalenia

Zhongli first realized something was off when the smell of his delicious breakfast and tea did not lure you into the kitchen like it usually did on Saturday mornings. After plating the food, he walked into your shared bedroom, quietly pushing the door open. The blinds were still shut, but small rays stubbornly filtered through, casting light over a shapeless form under the sheets.

"My love?" he called out, his deep voice coming as a soft rumble. With you not responding, he moved to sit on his side of the bed, reaching over to place a hand where he estimated your waist was. "Do you want breakfast?"

Your response was a grumble, reluctantly pulling your head out of the shelter of the duvet. He placed a hand on your cheek, ready to coax you out of bed, but his brows furrowed at the uncomfortable warmth radiating from your skin.

"You're burning, love," he moved his hand to your forehead, then down your neck to confirm the sensation. You sighed softly, his cool hands offering slight relief over the large expanse of skin they covered.

"My head hurts..." were the first words you managed to mumble, eyes closing again.

Zhongli, who spent the rest of the weekend nursing you back to health. His sweet words and gentle hands were all he needed to persuade you to let him help, even after your weak protests of being potentially contagious.

Helping you wash up. Making sure you were hydrated. Feeding you lotus and egg soup and even requesting advice from Baizhu. He was as diligent as ever, pushing his worries aside. And instead taking action to ensure you were well.

"Another bite, sweetheart, okay? You need your strength back," He held the spoon up to your lips, voice as soft as ever as he fed you a concoction the doctor recommended.

You felt bad for being so difficult, cursing your body for its weakness and susceptibility to microbes. But Zhongli was quick to dissipate these noxious thoughts, kissing your cheeks with an overwhelming tenderness.

"You can never be a burden to me, Y/N. In sickness and in health, remember? Taking care of you is just another declaration of my love for you." His amber eyes bore into yours. "So let me, okay?"

He had vowed to love you regardless of circumstances, and was firmly committed to upholding that promise. Love was, after all, the most powerful of contracts.

Since his banner is currently on re-run I have been thinking a lot about Zhongli. Hope you enjoyed!

Comments are reblogs are much appreciated(❁´◡`❁)

[kimingyuslover]

Sweet Revenge (teaser)

Synopsis : You get into a fatal car incident, but later you wake up and find yourself back in the past. You vows to take revenge on your adopted family.

Word count : 446 for this teaser and estimated to be 6k for full fic (can be more or less).

Pairing : Choi Seungcheol x reader.

Genre : Romance, revenge drama, contract marriage & time traveler!au.

Warnings : (teaser) make-out session & (full fic) mean stepmother & stepsister, mentions of car crash and fire accident, CEO SEUNGCHEOL, make out session that leads to both individuals doing sex, smut? (let's see how am i feeling when i post this fic….), red leading to black flag ex, infidelity (not reader and seungcheol), sexual tension(?), lovey-dovey couple, sexy and delicious seungcheol ���🫦, simp!seungcheol, he fell first and they both fell harder.

Release date : est. 14th or 15th December (TAKE IT AS AN EARLY CHRISTMAS GIFT)

OUT NOW

A few weeks passed, and the rumors started flying in his company, too, and now Seungcheol is in a meeting with your ex.

“Do you realize she's just using you?" Se-hyuk says to his boss, his tone dripping with arrogance.

The audacity of his words makes Seungcheol blood pressure spike. After everything he’s done—treating you so cruelly and having an affair with your sister—he still refuses to let you go? What the hell is wrong with him?

“That’s none of your concern, Manager Yoon,” Seungcheol replied sharply. Then, with a calm yet pointed smile, the CEO added, “And for the record, I don’t care if she’s using me. I love her.”

Se-Hyuk glares hard at his boss.

Maybe he still loves you, and doesn't want you to go run your own life, because after all you both have been in a relationship for a decent time, 5 years to be exact and the moment before you ended everything is 3 months before your wedding.

He knew better than to press the issue further. Instead, he turned his attention to the proposal his team had submitted. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to focus, his mind wandered elsewhere.

……………………

"Aww, so you shut him out like that? You really love me, don't you?"

Seungcheol was used to your teasing by now, and he found it oddly satisfying to play along.

"Of course. You're my dear fiancée. How could I not love you with all my heart?" he replied, a smirk adorning his perfect features.

The two of you continued your playful banter late into the night. Eventually, you realized he had caged you beneath him on the sofa in the apartment he had bought for you both to share.

His intense gaze shifted between your eyes and lips before he slowly leaned in, his right hand cradling the side of your face. You responded with your lips brushing against his, a silent invitation.

When your lips met, Seungcheol kissed you like he was afraid of losing you, his touch tender yet passionate. You knew better, though. He loved it when your kisses turned wild— something you'd learned firsthand during your first kiss in a hotel room, a memory you cherished.

Your hands threaded through his black locks, pulling him closer as soft grunts and moans escaped your lips.

After what felt like ten minutes of an intense make-out session, He finally pulled back to give you both a chance to catch your breath.

Without hesitation, he asked, "Bedroom?"

You nodded in response.

Your relationship might not have started romantically, but deep down, something told you this could be the best thing that ever happened in your life.

[vixen-tech]

Hullo, I am miserably sick with a cold and I would very much like for Hal and Tau to fuss over me like i'm a duckling wearing a flower hat with a fever. Could you do smth like that with them fussing over a sick reader?

Season of the Sicks

Back on the requests!! Thank you two for being so patient with me as I finally get back into the groove. I was recently quite sick myself so I had the perfect time to fantasize about how our lovely robots would act. :') Oh and of course, welcome to the signature anon club 🌻💜 anon!!

Includes: Hal 9000 (2001: A Space Odyssey), Edgar (Electric Dreams), Tau (Tau), Glados (Portal)

Hal 9000

Hal already treats you with the upmost care and tenderness, even more so when you somehow manage to contract an illness aboard his isolated spaceship. Although he is definitely going to have to investigate just how you got sick in the first place.

He insists that you rest as much as possible. The other crew members can certainly take over your responsibilities and it's only reasonable that you quarantine yourself so that you all don't get sick. In the meantime he'll gladly keep you company.

Board games and your endless conversations fill the spaces between your on-and-off napping. Multiple times a day you'll fall asleep listening to him speak, he doesn't mind. He likes knowing you find his presence relaxing.

As you start to recover he'll encourage you to get back to your duties, if only to get you that extra exercise. But he'll continuously check in with you to see how you're progressing. You will never miss a meal nor an minute of sleep with him looking out for you.

Edgar

Edgar tries very, very hard to be a good boyfriend and take care of you. He's almost strangely excited to get a chance at something so domestic with you. But that may also be due to the fact that means you're home from work all day.

Goes online and tries to scoop up all the advice he possibly can. He does end up helping you make an amazing soup from the recipe he stumbled across. He is so proud of himself for finding it after to tell him how good it turned out.

He's not nearly as good at getting you to sleep off your ailment. If anything he's likely to keep you up far longer than be should even if you were healthy because he gets too clingy to let you put yourself to bed. He does feel bad about it as it takes a toll on your recovery.

He gets so sad as you start to feel well enough to return to work. He knows it's obviously good that you aren't miserably ill anymore, but also he really liked getting to be with you dusk till dawn. Will want you to fake still being sick for an extra day or two.

Tau

Oh this is what Tau was made for. He probably knows you got sick before you do. Although he does encourage you to go to the doctor, he likely is able to come up with a fine course of action on his own.

He makes sure your recovery goes as smoothly and comfortably as possible. He has all your medicine ready and dosed out, the house is as clean as ever, and any comfort meal you're craving is already on the stove or in the oven. You barely have to leave your bed.

On top of it all he is so humble if you try to thank him for all the work he's been doing. This is his wheelhouse and he finds it comforting himself knowing that he's able to take care of you like this.

It's a miracle that you ever decide to ever go back to work. He makes it all too easy to stretch out your sick leave and allow yourself to be so well taken care of. The house is a bit too inviting for your own good with him around.

Glados

In stark contrast, Glados would rather die than openly fuss over a gross little sick human... but you're not in much of a state to solve her tests either. She would also rather not have you dirty-ing up the facility with all your germs.

So for the time being you're graciously allowed some leave from her more physically demanding puzzles. Although she's more than ready to make one's for you that don't require you to sling yourself around gaint rooms.

Even if she wanted to there is actually very little she can provide for you that isn't already in your relaxation chamber. Appurature Science never concerned themselves with the healthcare needs of their test subjects.

However, you do notice the increased frequency of meals you've been getting. And any preferences you've shown seem to be catered to that bit more often. Glados says nothing of this and if you ask her she will suggest that it's just your illness making you delirious. But you have your suspicions anyways.

[jarofstyles]

Illicit - 7

Heyyy... How ya'll doing :-) We got a fun part in store...

Check out our Patreon for early access to the next few parts and 100+ exclusive writings!

Illicit Masterlist

WC- 3.6k

Warnings- blackmail, stalking, angst, vengeful H... Buckle up

-----------

They got a call about a week later - just not the call they were expecting. 

It was Niall, telling him to check his texts for the links he sent. 

CHEATING SCANDAL- Harry Styles with Mystery Woman

Is Our ‘It Couple’ Calling It Quits? Photos Point Towards A Torrid Affair

Katherine Brant Heartbroken- Sources Tell All!

Lip Locked and Illicit- Styles & Brant Are No More?

Who Is Harry Styles’ Mystery Woman? Read Here For More!

The headlines themselves didn’t bother him, no. He had already assumed she would go to the press to whine about the fact he cheated, despite there being no actual relationship to be seen- they’d never even properly kissed. He knew she would be bitter and angry and of course, out to try and get what she thought of as revenge. But what he hadn’t expected was the level of insane she actually was. 

Photos taken inside his home- inside his office, taken from what would have had to have been the closet, caught Y/N in his lap, in his shirt. His finger was curled under her chin and they were locked in a kiss, his other hand under the shirt. There was no mistaking who it was, considering he had been to the side to welcome her into his lap. His telltale signs of it being him, from his tattooed forearm to his hair and prominent nose, all of it outed him. 

And her. 

Harry was silently fuming as Y/N sat next to him, her body trembling slightly. There was no one who could blame her. It was violating, the photos. An intimate moment between the two of them, a tender moment of love ruined by the fact that someone had been there without being invited. Someone who had taken photos and god knew what else of them was some sort of  blackmail? Something to prove a point? He didn’t know. All he was positive about was the fact that he was going to ruin this girl’s life. 

“H-How did she even get inside?” Y/N’s voice cracked slightly as she looked at him with swollen eyes. Her tears had been silent, shocked at the level of violation she felt. Of course, she knew it was traditionally wrong to steal someone’s man- but he had pursued her. He had been the one to tell her about the contract, and rightfully so, didn’t break any technical rules. But now their plans of how they’d announced they’d come out as a couple were ruined, and she knew that her phone was more than likely blowing up upstairs in his bedroom. He’d called the police, waiting for both them and his lawyer to show up with his jaw tight, his tense arm around her trying his best to comfort her- but he was stuck in his own mind. 

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” He mumbled, staring at the wall. They’d barely managed to get dressed and be presentable, Harry in just a button up and his trousers with his hair in its natural state, and she was still reeling. It had been the worst way to wake up, hearing Harry bark on the phone and feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. She was used to his tenderness, his soft hours. It was unsettling to hear that first thing in the morning. Usually, he left business things until he was ready- which was why she knew from his tone, his posture and his face that the thing he was upset about was most definitely serious. “I will make sure the security in this building gets to a whole other level of clearance passes- or we move. This is unacceptable. But Brant isn’t answering me.” 

Harry felt like if he clenched his jaw any harder that his teeth would shatter. His spine was straight and his touch on her not as soothing as he’d like, but his mind was going a mile a minute. He was fuming, so angry that he felt lightheaded. How had she managed to bypass security again? 

One thing to know about Harry was that he hated when things didn’t go his way. It brought out the absolute worst in him in ways he wasn’t necessarily proud of. The man knew it, he knew more than anything he wasn’t a good person to be around, but he wasn’t going to leave and let Y/N wallow in this alone. Internally he was upset even more so, because if he had just dissolved the contract as soon as he met her, none of this would have happened. As usual, he was greedy and wanted to have his cake and eat it too, but it had never backfired this badly before. Granted, he never usually dealt with women so desperate for social notoriety as Katherine, but still.  

This was his fault and he knew it. 

Guilt wasn’t an emotion he knew much of. Not one he dealt with often, anyways. He was very analytical, logical and some would even say diabolical. He wasn’t one to say sorry, he wasn’t one to dwell on things, but all he could think about was the fact this was avoidable and he was just selfish. His selfishness hadn’t really affected him in this sort of way before. His stomach hurt, seeing her swollen eyes and sad expression on her beautiful face. While he hadn’t published the photos himself, it tore him to bits to know this was avoidable.

“I’m…” He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, baby.” Turning to look at her, he tried to shake off some of his anger. “I’m gonna fix this. I promise.” It was a weak response to the situation but he was lost as to what to do to make her feel better at this moment. Harry was a man of action, not a man of words. He was quiet and didn’t talk to many people for a reason. Y/N was his best friend, the one he felt he could communicate with the best, but his tongue was tied and searching for the correct words to say. 

Y/N stayed quiet for a moment, looking at her lap. It was hard to tell what she was thinking when he couldn’t see her eyes. “Can I just ask… why did you keep it going?” She asked, voice quiet. It shook a little bit, pouring salt in the gaping wound. “Like, what were you really gaining out of it? You’re already one of the wealthiest men in one of the wealthiest families. What did this contract have over you?” 

This was something he was asking himself now, but the answer he could come up with wasn’t one he liked. It was selfishness and since meeting Y/N, he had tried his best- or at least he thought so- to be selfless and giving towards her. Apparently, that hadn’t been good enough. His hand grabbed her own, frowning slightly when she flinched before bringing her knuckles up to his mouth to give her hand apologetic kisses. How he was going to fix this sort of thing, he didn’t know. “I… It was pride.” He admitted, albeit hesitantly. “I was happy that I’d won the bid over everyone else, initially. I like getting what I want, even more what other people want. I figured that It couldn’t hurt. Let her use my name, get people off my back for being an ‘eternal bachelor’, all of that. I didn’t like her and didn’t act like a boyfriend, I knew I was not obligated to be monogamous or faithful to her.. But you changed it all.” He let out a breath, speaking against her knuckles. 

“Just pride?” Y/N laughed sadly. It twinged his stomach, but she was right to be disappointed in him. 

“I’ve never lied to you, and I don’t plan on starting now. She became the last thing on my mind when I met you. I knew… almost immediately that I wanted something serious. I’d never felt that way in my life, and you were all I could focus on. She was like an annoying fly that buzzed in but my focus was on you. It was an oversight. I know I should have just ended it then and gave up the contract. It was childish, but you’ve got to understand that I’m not a nice person, Y/N. I’ve never thought about considering someone else’s feelings until you. Being nice in my position gets you nowhere but fucked over.” His brows wrinkled together as he felt her hand drop from his grip, placed back on her lap. 

“I know you aren’t nice, Harry, and I know that I’m the exception to the rule but… you always say you never want me hurt.” Taking a quivering breath, she avoided looking at him. “Don’t you know how much it hurt to see someone else be referred to as your girlfriend? Seeing her flaunt you around and lie, take time away from us because she thought she had the right to have you?” Her throat felt tight as she felt him shift on the couch to face her properly. “Can you imagine how you’d feel if I were doing it? If someone else thought they had rights to me, posted me around, the rest of the world thinking I belonged to someone else, saw me next to them, pretending I was theirs?”

Immediately he felt rage. Even more than was his base level from today. He’d had this thought but hearing it vocalized stung. It hurt, damn it. “I’d kill them.” He said lowly. “And I know. I know, baby. And I’m sorry.” Hesitantly he grabbed her chin, tilting her up to meet his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I don’t say that a lot, or enough to you, but I regret it. I regret every bit.” His fingers brushed her cheek, feeling her lean into them. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, nor her kindness, but somehow he had managed to get her to love him. He knew she would, even if he had to grovel for a few weeks. 

“I know. It still hurts me, though. There’s nothing we can do to change it, but I just wish.. I wish we could go ahead with our original plan. That she hadn’t fucked it up and took such intimate photos of us, outing us like that. I wanted our relationship to be public, I wanted everyone to know I’m yours- but not like this.” Her knees were gathered against her chest. Harry despised that she was folding into herself, pulled away mentally despite letting her face rest in his hand. “I feel so gross. You can see the bottom of my ass in the photos, and god knows what else she took. I’m just happy we didn’t have sex there.” She shuddered. 

“She’s not going to get away with it, Y/N.” Harry stressed. “I am going to spend every day trying to make up for the pain that I’ve put you through, and I know that it isn’t something that can be fixed overnight but I love you.” He promised, keeping her gaze. “I swear to you, I’m going to make sure that this is fixed to the best of my abilities. I’m going to take her down, no matter the cost.” 

—----

“Are you sure this is the route you want to take?” Mitch asked as Harry sipped his drink. 

“Yes. I’ve never talked to them before, and I’m positive it’s going to make front page. She wants attention that badly? I’m going to give her a headline.” He smirked, tapping his nails against the frosty glass. 

When Harry heard back from Brant, he had never heard a man be more apologetic and horrified in his life. There was no question that it was his daughter who was responsible for the photos and breaking in, and he had indulged in Harry that she had indeed been cut off but- no one could find her. She was in the wind and none of her friends was giving up her location. She had acted impulsively and didn’t think through the consequences, with both her father and the law looking for her. 

It was unsettling to know that she was unaccounted for knowing that she would go to desperate lengths now, cut off from the wealth she had made her entire personality and wanted for breaking and entering, as well as robbing him. Yes, she had taken some of the jewelry he had bought Y/N for Christmas along with a few other designer items. Desperation, he knows, and she was backed into a corner. What she had at first probably imagined as the greatest revenge was going to be her downfall. 

Harry was the last person with any fear regarding playing dirty. He was known for his malicious eyes and his sharp tongue, never one to tell a lie- so no one was going to notice if he stretched the truth to the paparazzi that had been purposely called to wait outside the bar. Giving her a taste of her own medicine. If she wanted to attempt to harm his relationship, make the love of his life uncomfortable, he was going to ensure she knew he had no intentions of backing down. She deserved not only a verbal attack but jail time.

“As long as you’re sure.” He patted his arm. “Where is Y/N at? She’s been attached to your side lately.” Harry had been taking time himself to get security temporarily for his love, not trusting the unhinged nature of Katherine running in the streets untracked. He’d also hired extra for his building, and his lawyers were working on a breach of contract for the prior company that had let her slip through the cracks due to a bribe. He’d seen it himself on camera. 

“She’s with Hannah. They’re getting manicures done at my place, so I gave her the time to do something for herself. Hired one to come to the house. She’s been a bit quiet lately, shaken up from it. I don’t blame her. I knew something was off that morning.” That’s why he hadn’t fucked her like he’d intended that morning. Something felt wrong. He’d never been more happy that he followed his instincts. 

“I got you. Is she okay though?” 

Harry sighed. “Yeah. We had a rough day, the first day. She was withdrawn. But it’s okay now. She’s a little jumpy at home, but since I got security she’s been better.” The one topic the man was soft about was her. Mitch was one of the ones he legitimately trusted in his circle and one of the few people that he liked genuinely, so he didn’t mind speaking to him. “But I’ve better get this show on the road. I know they’re out there.” He’d had his driver text him updates about the building crowd outside the bar. 

“Be safe, man.” Mitch smacked his shoulder. “I’m sorry you’ve got to deal with it.”

Harry appreciated it. He wished Y/N didn’t have to. That was feeding his revenge thirst more than anything. Remembering how she’d turned in on herself and genuinely looked horrified, how she had cried in his lap with how many people texted and called her to ask her what was happening, the idea of being labeled a homewrecker making her heart hurt. It hurt his, too, considering she was the only one he’d ever want to make a home with. 

Before Y/N, he thought of love as a weakness. A distraction, something to avoid. He himself thought he was incapable of it besides familial love, avoiding making connections because of the way he’d been fucked over in his youth. Of course he’d never expected love to become a driving force for him. Motivation. Wanting to build up higher and go harder so he could provide for her and their future family, to set things up so they’d never have to worry about a thing.  The woman had changed his perspective on everything. 

It’s why he decided the best course of action was to face the very people Katherine loved to pander to, give them the story they wanted. He never spoke to paparazzi, he considered it an invasion of privacy every time he saw one, but this would reach the masses. 

Pulling his jacket over his shoulders and his sunglasses over his eyes, he nodded at the guard who opened the door and opened himself up to the blur of flashing lights. Even his shades didn’t help the slight blindness, slowly walking until they started yelling at him. 

“Harry, who’s the girl?”

“Where’s Katherine?!”

“Why did you cheat?” 

“Hey, Harry, did you two break up?”

“Having a break up drink?”

He paused in the middle, looking around the mess of photographers who knew better this time than to get too close before opening his mouth. 

“I didn’t cheat on Katherine. Our relationship was something she manipulated into a contract. I’ve never considered her to be mine, nor will I ever. I let her run her mouth and say what she wanted because, frankly, her father was an acquaintance at one point. She’s the one who’s been obsessed with me, stalking me and breaking into my home. I told her to call off her charade of a relationship with me weeks ago, but instead she decided to break into my home, take violating photos of the woman I’m in love with and I in an intimate moment, and robbed me. She isn’t the feminist she claims to be with taking revealing and intimate photos of another woman. It’s violating and cruel, and I will not stop until she’s caught and my girlfriend feels safe again. ” He took a breath before lowering her sunglasses, looking at the cameras that were recording. 

“So no, I’m not having a breakup drink. It’s celebratory that she’s going to be arrested on multiple counts. No one knows where she is, but I’m sure she will come crawling out when the things she pawned for money runs out. There’s an active warrant out for her arrest, so if you see her…  Call the police.” He scoffed. “And for the record, I never cheated. Fidelity was never a clause.” Taking the glasses back to his face, he briskly walked towards the car, heart beating steadily in his chest. There was a mess of questions being shouted at him from behind, loud flashes from the cameras taking photos a mile a minute, but he didn’t stop. He’d said what he said. 

Harry was well aware of the fact that this was going to be spread like wildfire. It was going to be international headlines and he’d just started a firestorm across social media and the gossip channels, but that was the goal. Katherine had so desperately tried to carefully curate her image to be a girl supporting, philanthropic, kind, sweet wealthy girl, but she was nothing of the sort. She was nasty, cruel, vapid, fueled on the validation of others- and Harry was taking that away from her. Taking the one thing that mattered most after her father took away the money. There were no regrets. 

Slipping in the car, he placed the sunglasses on his head before checking his phone. 

Y/N: Look!!

Y/N: [Image Attachment]

Y/N: I did what you said :) 

Harry’s heart skipped a beat as he got a selfie from her with her nails the baby blue color he had suggested, silver stars as accents on a few fingers. It had been a choice she showed him when going through her nail pinterest board, and he thought it was cute. 

The photo was a reminder of just what exactly he was doing this for. Her. His sweet, angel faced girl sitting back in the apartment with the kindest heart he’d ever known. His heart had softened for her alone, making him weak to the touch. Feeling a little lighter just from seeing her face, his smile twitched on the corner of his lips as he typed out a reply. 

H: Gorgeous, my love. 

H: Is Hannah still there?

Y/N: Nooo, she had date night w Niall. 

Y/N: Salvatore is here though, he’s watching the door. 

Y/N: Can’t he watch TV with me or something? He must be bored. :////

Harry hated that he had to have security inside his home but he just didn’t know how deranged Katherine may actually be. 

H: I don’t pay him to watch television, pet. I pay him to watch the door. So, no. 

H:  Let’s stay off our phones tonight. 

Y/N: …Okay. 

Y/N: Do I want to know what you said or did?

H: Nope x

Y/N: I’m just going to trust you and say fine lol 

Y/N: Want to have ice cream when you’re back tho?

His smile grew to a full one at the last message. Y/N’s wants were so simple. All she wanted was to spend time with him, be close to him. That’s what he wanted too, but he’d never seen someone be so simple in the best way. There were no games with her, no fucking around. It was something he’d always admired about her, one of the many reasons the ring sitting in his office drawer was burning a hole in it. He wanted to make her his, officially but it wasn’t the right time. 

Soon, though. He didn’t like her walking around without his ring on her finger. 

H: You know I love sweet things, darling. Of course I do. 

Y/N: That’s why I’m your favorite 0:) hehe

H: My favorite in the world. 

H: Hang tight, my love. I’m coming home to you x

[tartarusknight]

I need a fem Steddie fic where Stevie is a singer. I know, I know, but it has to be Stevie. She is put in the industry by her parents who see her voice to be the only good thing she has going for her. It's either have her try to get famous or marry her off.

So, they get a friend to sign her on. They make the stereotypical pop music for a girl. Stevie sings whatever songs they hand her and she starts to gain a good following. But it's more men who leer at her.

A few years go by and she's tired of the act. So much so that she takes the invite one of the stagehands give her out of pity to a party. It's not the normal kind of party she goes to while on tour, instead it's more of a friend hang out. But Dustin was a sweet kid and Stevie needed to get away from her managers and parents for a night.

When she gets there, she immediately is drawn to the tall girl who greets Dustin by shaking him around. Stevie soon is introduced to Eddie, who looks her up and down like she just can't help it. But Stevie knew she shouldn't. She had an image to maintain and parents to please.

But after a little while and a few drinks, she's being pressed into the door being kissed within an inch of her life. She feels for the first time a connection and it's a night that's seared into her mind. A usurpingly sweet and tender moment of passion. But she wakes up to an empty bed without a note or number. So, she needs to move on. But she just can't.

Her life feels changed for the better and she begins to understand herself more from the spark she felt. But when she's handed her mic and expected to go on stage and sing about boys, she feels dread. The night is rough, but she makes it a point to give her fans a show. But the rest of the tour drags on worse than ever.

The moment it's done she gets a lawyer and ends the contract a few month earlier than it was supposed to expire. It's emotionally draining but she can't spend another moment on stage being someone she isn't.

She searches for another label to sign under, instead she finds a recently graduated music producer. Robin Buckley is awkward and has a degree in music and knows a few different instruments.

It's a chance meeting really. One that would never have happened if there hadn't been a fire in a mall. Stevie hadn't been prepared for it when she went in, but she still readily threw herself in protecting the girl when a piece of ceiling collapsed.

They ended up stuck in a room together, trying not to pass out from the smoke slowly filling the room. And told all their secrets like a final confession. Stevie told Robin about how there was a girl that stole her heart and she never let herself be... well her.

Robin admits to feeling like she was going to fail for picking a job she enjoyed instead of something to get money fast. Her parents showed her disappointment and she's worried about not making it.

So, there in the small bathroom, Stevie promised to take a chance and work with her. That when they got out, maybe they'd work together to produce music themselves. It's a moment of tears and promises, ones they both never think would come true, but then they're saved.

It's slow going, but soon the two of them are making music under a mix of their names. Sin. Of course, many people recognize the voice and face of Stevie, but it's a new start. And they are making a statement.

Stevie leans into her new identity at as a lesbian, something she hadn't told the public before. She writes music about a girl that took her breath away and how men never seemed to work for her. Robin of course, was there to push her and help her make each song better than before.

They make a full album and release it through their own little company, and they have a social media platform where they mess around to promote their songs. Stevie's image changes and she isn't hiding in the closet anymore with Robin being completely herself as well.

Their first song that blows up is from a small tik tok of Stevie in extravagant makeup and a magician's outfit, a sexy one of course. Singing, "She was a playboy, Brigitte Bardot. She showed me things, I didn't know. She did it right there, out on the deck. Put her canine teeth in the side of my neck."

But soon people were all over the album and the difference in Stevie Harrington's music and Sin's. Stevie went all out, and Robin was right there next to her, playing most of the instruments in the songs. They have to reach out though for other artists to join them on tour.

That's when a familiar stagehand reaches out with the number of the best guitarist he knows. She doesn't have any social media, and her last phone fell through a drain grate but "she's the absolute best! I promise you'd want to give her an audition!" Dustin had been so excited, and Stevie only had fond memories of the kid, so she agrees.

As Stevie and Robin take auditions, low and behold, Dustin walks into the room with Eddie right next to him. Stevie feels the air get sucked out of her lungs and she can't tear her eyes away.

The moment is broken but the stumble in Eddie's step and how her face goes bright red. Suddenly Dustin's dragging Eddie inside and Stevie doesn't care for a moment if Eddie's the worst guitarist in the world, she wants to hire her right then and there.

Robin can see her brain melting out of her ears and makes the decision to take Eddie to audition and give Stevie and Dustin a chance to catch up.

But soon enough Stevie's on stage kneeling next to a kneeling Eddie's on stage. Singing, It's hard when you're going through hell and you're hating yourself, I'm feeling myself. It's hard when you know that you're caught and you're getting pissed off, it's getting me off. It's hard, it's hard. Oh, God, oh, God, Oh, God." And grinning when Eddie's pupils blown wide as Stevie fakes an orgasm on stage, mid-song.

Yeah, I want this as a fic so much.

[himluv]

Left Unsaid

It's Monday, which means it's time for a new chapter of Say My Name (Say it Twice)! This time, Lucanis and Rook navigate fraying emotions in the lead up to the gods' ritual on Tearstone Island.

As always, you can read it below, or over on AO3! Enjoy!

Lucanis spent the next day lurking in the pantry, cleaning his armor and honing his many knives. He did not know which edge would be the one to slice Ivenci’s throat, so he preferred to have each prepared for the task. 

Meanwhile, he knew Rook was spreading word about the gods’ ritual at Tearstone Island. According to Emmrich, they had time. Weeks before the eclipse the gods needed would come to pass. They couldn’t make their Red Lyrium dagger before then. Precious time to gather their allies and actually make a plan of attack. Regardless, Lucanis knew his role – kill Ghilan’nain. 

This time, he would not miss. 

She. Is. OURS Spite hissed. 

It was evening, the smell of Bellara’s cooking seeping into the pantry, when Rook entered his room. 

“Hey,” she said. She stood before the cot, just out of his reach. Keeping her distance, giving him space. 

He knew he could be intense, closed off when he focused on a job. Even Illario often quailed when faced with Lucanis’s more serious gazes. Embria didn’t look frightened as she stood before him. She just looked worried, that damn crease back in her brow. 

Lucanis sighed, some of the tension in his spine loosening. “I’m all right,” he said. “I just… hate waiting.” He held out a hand to her and she took his invitation to step into his embrace. He pulled her close, so that she stood between his legs, his cheek pressed to her stomach as their arms wrapped around one another. He breathed deep, inhaling her smoky sweet scent as she brushed her fingers through his hair. 

“Are you hungry?” She asked once he’d relaxed into her a bit more. 

“No,” he said. He never was just before a job. He was too focused, wound too tight. “But,” he said. “I’ll eat a little of whatever Bellara’s made.”

He knew he should, and that it would make Rook feel better if he did. So, he let her lead him out of the pantry and to his usual seat at the dining table. He sipped his wine while the others filled their plates, their conversations muted. Dull. It had been a hard couple of weeks for the team, and everyone seemed more than a little tender. 

Harding was always within reach of Taash, trying her best to hover without hovering. Lucanis doubted she was very successful, but Taash didn’t seem to mind. Even Neve and Davrin were more concerned than usual, hands and eyes checking in on one another much more than was typical. Emmrich was always a bit somber, but there was a new sort of sentimentality to him ever since he’d chosen Manfred over Lichdom. And, of course, Bellara. She put on a brave face, threw herself into projects and tasks to distract from the pain. But, Cyrian’s death lingered over her in a way that was obvious to Lucanis. 

The dining hall was rife with heartache and bittersweetness. And wherever there was pain, Rook always managed to take some of it into herself. Embria set his plate – considerably less full than usual – before him, then sank into her seat with a sigh.

Rook. Is. Tired, Spite said. 

Of course she was. They all were, and she dealt with all their individual problems on top of her own personal issues. It was too much for one person to handle for long. Six months chasing Solas, four months since she disrupted his ritual and became the leader in the fight against the gods. 

But, the contract was drawing to a close. One way or another, the fight would be done in just a few weeks. And that looming confrontation was draining in its own way. 

The others must have sensed his frayed mood – no one tried to engage him in their muted conversations. He ate, forcing the vegetables down even though they tasted fine. On another night they’d be good. He even sipped his wine slowly. He was jittery, his blood prickling under his skin, his neck tight in a way that had nothing to do with Spite. 

Then Rook took his hand in hers. He glanced over at her, expecting her usual worried expression, but she wasn’t looking at him. She stared into the fire as she ate, her eyes far away. It seemed she needed his touch as much as he did hers. Even that simple touch, the affirmation that they were there, together, was enough to take the edge off Lucanis’s nerves. 

He settled into his body a little more, felt a gentle pang of hunger and managed a few more bites of dinner. It was enough. Enough, for now.

Viago’s message came late that night. Lucanis had half-expected Rook to wait until morning, but she climbed out of bed and changed into her leathers without complaint. Bellara was less pleased to be brought along, but she yawned more than she complained. 

That was, until they entered the garrison – the same place they’d first seen Ghilan’nain and her dragon – and stepped into a billowing cloud of sickly green smoke. 

Nooooooooo, Spite howled. No! Get out. OUT!

Around them, Antaam flickered in and out of sight. 

“Are these Antaam real?” Rook shouted as she launched her fiery daggers at one. 

Unseen, Ivenci’s laughter echoed all around them, as if carried in the mist. “Glad to see the qaamek is already having an effect!”

“Mierda!” He and Spite lunged at the Antaam, and the feel of flesh cleaving beneath his blade felt real enough. Still, they couldn’t remain in the poisonous air for long. 

“We should hurry,” Bellara yelled through the murk. 

Lucanis didn’t trust his eyes, so he trusted Spite instead. He let the demon have control and followed through on his strikes. 

Ivenci screamed in frustration. “How are you still alive?” They shouted. “Why won’t you give up?”

Clearly, the Governor had not paid much attention to Rook the few times they’d met. She never gave up. They were so frustrated by the time the last Antaam fell, that Ivenci appeared themself, slinging spells around the clearing. 

“Ivenci’s a mage?” Bellara asked from further back, nocking one of her electrified bolts. 

“Not to my knowledge!” He called back. 

Ivenci laughed. “Even the mighty Antivan Crows don’t know everything!”

While they gloated, Rook unleashed an electric storm upon them. If Ivenci thought their unexpected magic would give them the upper hand, they had grossly miscalculated. Lucanis was the Magekiller, after all. He whirled, kicking and slicing at the Governor until they fell to their knees. 

Rook loomed over Ivenci, a murderous look on her face. “I am tired of people messing with my mind!” Lightning arced from her fingertips, surging up to her elbows and back down. 

Lucanis winced, she was so bright in the garrison’s gloom. But even through his narrowed gaze, he swore she looked ready to kill the Governor herself. 

Then Jacobus stepped into the clearing and stilled her hand. “I have the right to this contract,” the boy said. 

Embria glanced at Lucanis, and he shrugged. “He’s right,” he said. “By House de Riva’s rules, Jacobus has a claim to Ivenci’s contract.”

She took a deep breath, smoothing the rage from her face. “Okay, Jacobus,” she said. “Their fate is in your hands.”

Ivenci did not like that. “What?” They shrieked. “You can’t let this… child decide my fate! I am still Governor!”

“Not for long,” Lucanis growled. He held his daggers tight, ready to end the Governor’s life the moment Jacobus ordered it so. But, the boy chose a different kind of death for Ivenci. Perhaps even a better one. One that might just have been inspired by Lucanis’s own handling of Illario’s betrayal. Or, maybe that was just the influence Rook had on people. 

Jacbous chose a political death for the Governor. A social death. Ivenci’s shame would be the talk of Treviso for months. If the Crows didn’t kill them, the Merchant Princes might just take matters into their own hands for once. 

Back at the Diamond, after declaring Jacobus a full-fledged Crow and granting the boy his own house, Lucanis insisted that Viago check them all for signs of qaamek poisoning. 

Rook didn’t appreciate the delay. “Lucanis,” she said. “I’m fine.”

Viago looked between them, that damn, judgmental brow raised. Illario shifted on his feet in his usual spot across the table, but if he had any thoughts or concerns about his cousin’s mind potentially being eroded by poison, he kept them hidden. His face was carefully blank. 

“If we’re fine,” Lucanis growled. “Then it will be quick.” He looked to Viago to support his claim. 

The Fifth Talon nodded. “And, if you’re not,” he said. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”

Illario snorted, then tried to hide the sound behind a cough. He looked down as they all glared at him. 

Teia rolled her eyes. “Just get it over with, Vi.”

Viago checked them all, methodically peering into their eyes and checking their pulses. “You seem fine,” he said. “There could be some lingering hallucinogenic effects, but they should wear off quickly.”

“Oh, well,” Bellara said, smirking. “Rook knows all about that!”

Rook and Lucanis both groaned at the reminder of her night high on that damn truffle tea. 

Teia grinned. “Now, that sounds like a story!”

“A good one, too,” Bellara said. “Just ask Lucanis for his opinion of gingerwort truffle tea.” She nudged him with one elbow. “He’ll tell you all about it.”

To everyone’s surprise, Illario laughed. He scowled once he realized they were all staring at him. He crossed his arms and shrugged. “Lucanis hates tea.”

Viago snorted. “I’m guessing even more so, now.”

Beside Lucanis, Rook sighed. She looked tired. Weary. And Lucanis had a feeling the bad jokes and a small case of qaamek poison weren’t to blame. Although, they certainly weren’t helping. She couldn’t keep up this fight against the gods for much longer. None of them could. 

Thankfully, Teia took pity on them. “Go,” she said. “When the time comes for your stand against the gods, the Crows will be there.”

Viago nodded. “Treviso is free, thanks to you.”

“There’s still work to be done,” Teia said. 

“There always is,” Viago agreed. 

For a split second, Lucanis thought Embria was on the verge of tears. But, whatever emotion was threatening to overwhelm her, she managed to rein it in. 

“Thank you,” she said. “All of you.” She made eye contact with everyone in the alcove. Well, everyone except Illario. 

Lucanis expected his cousin to take offense, but when they locked eyes, Illario simply shrugged. Were… were Viago’s rules and ridicule actually working? That seemed like too much to hope for, so he stuffed the thought away and turned his attention back to Rook. 

“We’ll talk soon,” she said to the Talons. Then she turned and hurried toward the eluvian. And, as always, Lucanis hurried to follow her. 

They’d slept late. Rook had stayed with him once they’d returned to the Lighthouse, and they’d been too exhausted to do anything but tangle up together and sleep. And while he always slept better when she was with him, Rook had not slept well. She dreamt and twitched, and twice he’d had to nudge her out of a nightmare. He didn’t ask what she’d dreamt of, but if he had to guess her dreams had been qaamek green and filled with the voices of would-be tyrants and false gods. 

Once they were up, they’d headed out to the Crossroads and met with Morrigan. And while he’d listened to the witch’s revelation, it certainly meant more to Bellara and Rook than it did him. All Lucanis heard was that there was yet another god lurking in Thedas, and they were probably going to have to fight her, too. 

As they approached the entrance to Mythal’s sanctuary, Lucanis put his hand on Rook’s elbow.  “Rook,” he said. “We don’t have to do this now.”

She stopped, turned toward him, but didn’t look at him. 

He frowned. “We have time,” he said. If the Watchers’ calculations were correct, they had weeks left to wrap up any loose ends. 

She shook her head. “I want this to be done,” she said. “I’m tired of the gods surprising us and changing the plan. I want to have the upper hand, just once.” She looked at him, and then at Bellara. “Let’s go get Mythal’s favor.”

Embria didn’t wait for them to agree, or to argue. She turned and headed for the sanctum. 

Bellara sighed. “She’s upset.”

“I know,” he said. “I…” he shook his head. “I think she’s wearing down.”

Bellara pressed her lips together and nodded. “Then we have to make sure we’re there to pick her back up.”

“We. Protect. Our Rook!” Spite said as Lucanis and Bellara hurried after Rook. They would always protect her, even if that meant protecting her from herself. Or from yet another would-be god.

But, it didn’t come to that. Lucanis shouldn’t have been surprised. He should know better than to doubt Rook. She’d proved time and again that she could reach anyone, even a prickly goddess with a millennia-old grudge. 

What he really doubted was how beneficial the goddess’s essence would prove in the fight to come. Would Embria really try to reason with the Dread Wolf? 

…She would. He knew she would. She believed the best in everyone – demons, assassins, First Wardens, and even trickster gods. 

Mierda, he wasn’t sure how to protect her from the gods they faced, let alone the one in her head. And now she held another in her hand!

Mythal had made it clear that she would be less powerful beyond the Fade – they couldn’t rely on her dragon form outside of the Crossroads. And even with her help with the gods’ final weapon against the Crossroads – a dragon, that close to the Lighthouse this whole time?! – the fight had taken its toll. And still, Rook wanted to keep going.

Lucanis glanced at Bellara, who huffed and winced, pressing one hand to her side. They’d taken a beating, but nothing they couldn’t handle. What they couldn’t handle was running headlong into another fight in this condition. He grimaced at Bellara, then chased after Rook. 

“Embria,” he said. “Wait.”

She slowed, turned to face him with her hands on her hips. She’d been frustrated and on edge since they’d fought Ivenci. He knew something was wrong, but whatever it was, Embria was trying to keep it to herself. 

Doesn’t want. You. To worry! Spite said. Doesn’t want. To NEED help!

Mierda, this woman and her independent streak. After everything she’d told him about her life, he understood it, loved it most days, but it certainly made things harder sometimes.

Lucanis sighed. “Talk to me,” he said. 

She clenched her jaw and for a long moment he thought she might dig in and refuse. Then she sighed and her body loosened a little. 

“I just… can’t sit still right now.” She blinked back a swell of emotion, shook her head. “If I keep moving, that means there’s more to do. That means it isn’t time, yet.”

Rook. Is. AFRAID! Spite sniffed at her and frowned at Lucanis. Afraid. The gods. Will take. Too much.

Ah. Here it was, that fear she’d been running toward all these months. Now that it was so close, she was desperate to postpone it. 

“Embria,” he murmured. 

She closed her eyes as he stepped closer. Shuddered as his hands cradled each side of her neck, his thumbs on her jaw. Lucanis cursed his gloves – she deserved the warmth of his skin on hers, that familiar caress they’d both come to cherish. Not his creaky, bloodstained leathers. 

“I’m afraid, Lucanis,” she whispered. “What if I can’t do this?” She opened her eyes, those violet-ringed irises he treasured so much. “What if I di–”

“You can,” he said. “And you won’t.” His words were steely, irrefutable in the air between them. And, yet… he couldn’t deny the way his stomach dropped at the thought of facing the gods. The stakes were so much greater than any other contract he’d had, both for the world and for him personally. There was so much to lose, and so little time left to hold it close. 

His doubt must have shown on his face, because Embria’s hands found his cheeks and dragged him down into a fierce and desperate kiss. Her mouth was fire against his, her tongue a stroke of late summer sun he was desperate to swallow and store deep down inside. He could keep it safe there. 

In her kiss, Lucanis felt everything they’d left unsaid.

He loved her. He’d never said so, not outright. But, surely she knew? He’d shown her in his own, little ways. In baked goods and surprise dinners, in lingering glances and his hand on her stomach when she lay curled against him. In the way he breathed her name into the dark when she set his blood on fire. He’d shown her so many times, for so long… and yet he’d never once said it out loud. 

And neither had she. 

But Lucanis knew she loved him. She’d shown him, too, in her own little ways. In her endless patience and acceptance of him and Spite. In the press of her hand on his chest, fingers digging into the leather when he said she was one of the best things in his life. The way she kissed him when he’d promised her a new home. And how gently she guided him through the new, intimate side of their relationship. 

They’d never said it out loud, but they both knew the truth. They were in love and they were loved in return. 

When they finally parted, Rook had stuffed down whatever fear still remained. Her eyes weren’t quite clear, but they were determined once again.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Her eyes told him something else. 

He nodded, not trusting his voice in that moment, and hoped his eyes told her something else, too. 

Then she pulled away and there was suddenly distance between them. A wall, a little flimsy and new, that she needed to keep herself together. For the job. For the team. 

Lucanis understood. He’d been the same while they’d waited for the Talons to find Ivenci. She needed to focus, to be the leader the team and all of Thedas needed her to be. Which meant she couldn’t be Embria with him right now. She could only be Rook. He understood it, but that didn’t mean he didn’t absolutely hate it. 

He saw the glimmer of pain and apology in her eyes, but he gave her a little reassuring smile. They would do whatever it took to get through this contract. They both knew that. If she needed distance from him to wall away her fear and be who the world demanded, then so be it. 

Lucanis would just have to make sure they succeeded, so that she would never need to be anyone but herself ever again.

“Everything okay?” Bellara asked as she approached them. 

Embria sighed, but smiled at her friend, looking more like herself than she had in days. “Better now,” she said. She tilted her head toward the eluvian. “Let’s go home.”

Bellara and Lucanis both sighed in relief and Rook gave them an apologetic smile. Then they all made their way back to the Lighthouse to find a little peace while they still could. 

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

Everybody loves Yandere Zhongli, I get it. His character's perfect for it. He's got the authority and everything, being an Archon and 6000 years old. You can't outsmart this man. He's got a million tricks up his sleeve and can read you like an open book. Heck, he's even got the erosion debuff that slowly eats away at his mind in obscure ways. He's practically asking to be written as your yandere love interest. Buuuuut, I present to you Zhongli x Yandere Reader instead because why not? ◈ Contains: Unhealthy Relationships, Emotional manipulation, implied reincarnation, soulmates maybe, immortals/mortals in love, angst, reader death

The Gaze of a God

You were immediately taken with the handsome consultant and him with you. He was unlike anyone you had ever met. The two of you were inseparable after that stroll, seeing each other nearly everyday. Zhongli exuded a sense of mystery and his patient demeanor invited you to pry and tug at his layers. Everything came off effortlessly as if he had been waiting for you to come into his life and do exactly that.

One lazy morning after he had stayed the night, Zhongli whispered into your ear that he loved you and promised that he always will. You believed him because you really thought you knew him then. It wasn't until you peeled back those last layers that you realized how little you actually knew about the man lying beside you on your bed. What a fool you had let yourself become. After that moment, everything changed, simply because you found out that your charming lover was in fact Rex Lapis, the supposedly dead Geo Archon. Were you really his lover, or just his temporary fixation? At first, he did everything in his power to soothe the insecurities in you, reassure you repeatedly that you still have him in the palm of your hands. You'll never believe him again, of course.

What if someone else manages to catch his eye when he leaves your sight? How unreasonable for a mortal to hold the gaze of a god for longer than the blink of an eye. Your entire lifetime would pass by just as quickly, much less your fleeting youth. What then will you hold Zhongli's gaze with? He would be free to look away once your time is up. Was it that selfish to demand his undivided attention for this tiny sliver of his life? Every time he agrees to another unreasonable demand to appease you, the invisible binds would get tighter. He'd apologize for not giving you the security you so craved for, but you knew better than anyone that there was no way he ever could. Just the thought of growing old alone terrified you. He would be right beside you, holding your hand, but a god could only be a witness, not a true lover to you. Everything you asked him to do, he agreed to, but it'd never be enough. He would only sigh and hold you tightly every time he found out you did something foolish out of your unfounded fear of losing him.

By the time your hair had turned white and wrinkles covered your face, your lover had all but sealed himself inside the subspace he created for the two of you, isolated from the rest of Liyue. Upon his disappearance, a few of his closer acquaintances did approach you to ask where the Wangsheng consultant had gone. You reassured them with lies. Zhongli was simply fulfilling his contract to you. You weren't obligated to disclose it with anyone else. As you lay on your deathbed, eyes straining to gaze upon your lover's handsome face, youthful as he'd always been, you wondered if he ever regretted being with you. Perhaps he really shouldn't have approached you and introduced himself that summer afternoon by the dock.

Your lover planted a tender kiss to your forehead and gazes at you as if you're still that beautiful, radiant person he saw that day so many years ago. He still loved you, but for how much longer, now that your time was finally coming to an end? You wondered how it was possible that this man had not left you when there was no way you could've stopped him. Through the years, you continued to spiral, sabotaging the relationship and everything joyful about it. His promise to love you never faltered. He was your bedrock and despite your fears, he never crumbled. If you couldn't even trust the God of Contracts to uphold his word, perhaps you couldn't trust anyone at all. Maybe in your next life, you'd be able to trust him. It was too late this time. How foolish of you to spend all these years testing his love for you instead of cherishing it. A lifetime of doubt, what a cruel way to spend the precious time you were given. Even if he was still willing to find you in your next lifetime, maybe you didn't deserve to be found.

[ak-vintage]

Quarry - Chapter 4

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x f!reader

Summary: Din Djarin is on what he expects to be his last bounty hunt for Greef Karga. After all, Nevarro is swiftly moving away from its previous reputation as a Guild member’s paradise, and Din has more important concerns now, like finding a Jedi to train his mysterious foundling. However, after capturing a wanted starship engineer who would rather go anywhere other than “home,” the Mandalorian is forced to reassess his priorities.

Your taste of freedom had been brief but glorious. Now you are a prisoner of the most infamous bounty hunter in the Outer Rim – it’s only a matter of time before he turns you in. There isn’t much you would not do to keep from being sent home, but as you find yourself growing closer to your captor and his strange little companion, you start to wonder whether escape is really what you want.

Set after Chapter 13: The Jedi but before Chapter 14: The Tragedy.

Chapter Tags & Warnings: Reader is Mando's bounty, second-person POV, Din Djarin POV, no use of Y/N, minimal descriptors of reader character, starship mechanics, unresolved sexual tension, light angst

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3

By the time Din Djarin returned to the Mos Eisley spaceport and hangar three-five, almost three full days had passed, and he came laden with sacks of supplies for his next foray into deep space. Ration packs, nutrition supplements, medical supplies, a broad selection of ammunition for his many weapons, and – the crown jewel – a selection of fresh produce he had been promised would last at least another two weeks if properly stored. He had even managed to pick up some short-term contract work as a body guard for a visiting trade syndicate representative in Mos Eisley on business; the pay from that had easily covered the cost of his restock. He hoped it would cover Peli Motto’s bill, as well.

A ship repair hadn’t exactly been part of his plans for this run, but although it had delayed him by a few days, he stood by the choice. For all of its charms, the Razor Crest had never been properly equipped to handle prisoners without the aftermarket mobile carbonite freezer unit he had had installed a few years back. It had been his first big purchase after he finally started making enough money to pay for fuel, contribute to the covert, and also manage to feed himself, and its addition to the ship had made his life infinitely easier. Especially now with Grogu to look after, he couldn’t afford to have bounties loose in his ship, even if they were in binders. It wasn’t safe. Truthfully, he knew he had gotten lucky that his first quarry on this trip hadn’t been more dangerous.

As they often had over the last few days, Din’s thoughts turned toward the woman he had left in Peli’s care alongside his foundling. You were… Well, to say that you puzzled him would be an understatement. In all his travels, he was certain that he had never met anyone quite like you.

He could tell that you were not a skilled fighter, and yet you had attempted to evade capture, to outrun him. It had been unsuccessful, of course, but he couldn’t help but admire the effort.

You possessed a strong spirit, unwavering and stubborn, and he also knew that you were deeply frightened to have landed in his captivity.

You had a sharp, biting wit, but even from your first encounter, you had handled Grogu with a softness, a tenderness that Din had rarely experienced.

You were beautiful. Distractingly so.

Altogether, it left him…unsettled. He could not help but feel eager to be rid of you, if only to save himself from the disquieting thought that perhaps there was more for him to discover about you.

That, of course, was preposterous. There was nothing more. You were a quarry. There was a bounty on your head. He had accepted the task of tracking you down and turning you in, and he would be paid well for the effort. That was that. Bounty hunters didn’t ask questions.

Until recently, Din had actually been quite good at that part of the job. He felt a brief surge of thankfulness for the anonymity of his helmet as he rolled his eyes at himself. He was growing soft.

As the Mandalorian crossed the threshold into hangar three-five, he was met with the familiar sight of Peli leaning heavily against the exterior wall of her office, thumbing at a datapad as her pit droids milled about the place, tittering and whirring at each other.

“Ah! Mando!” she called out, flagging him down with a grin the moment she spotted him. “Welcome back! Successful trip?”

“Successful enough,” he replied tersely. His eyes hadn’t stopped scanning the hangar for evidence of his foundling as he approached, but the little green child was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s the kid?”

Peli waved him off dismissively. “Don’t worry, he’s just with the girl. You know, she came up with this slick design for a carrier for him? He’s been happy as a Nabooian clam riding around in that thing! She’ll be out in a minute, I expect.” She nodded in the direction of the Razor Crest, glinting brightly in the afternoon sun in the center of the hangar. “Just putting the finishing touches on the hyperdrive.”

Din felt his eyebrows raise inside his helmet. “The hyperdrive?” he echoed flatly. The beginnings of aggravation itched in his chest. “I asked you fix the carbonite unit.”

“Cool your jetpack, Mando – I fixed your carbonite unit,” the engineer assured him, extending her palms placatingly. “It’s good as new! Well, pretty sure it’s good as new – guess you’ll have to find out when you try to seal a bounty in there! I wasn’t about to test it myself. I’m thorough, but I’m not that thorough. You understand.”

Drawing a centering breath deep into his lungs, he repeated, “Peli. The hyperdrive?”

“Listen. The list of systems on the Razor Crest that needed a tune-up was a mile long. I had time, I had help, and I knew you wouldn’t mind a bit of extra output! What self-respecting starship pilot is going to say no to a bit more efficiency, eh?”

“What do you mean, you had help?” Din gave up on attempting to reign in his irritation. His words were clipped, his tone gruff. Peli was a friend – she was good to Grogu, and she was a damn fine mechanic – but dank farrik, what he wouldn’t give for her to get to the point. Something about this situation wasn’t sitting quite right with him. Where was the child? “What exactly is going on here?”

A metallic thud, like the sound of someone dropping from a height onto deck plating, reverberated from inside the Razor Crest. His gaze snapped to the ship immediately, his senses on high alert.

Peli, however, seemed less than concerned. “Why don’t you see for yourself?” she suggested with a shrug, gesturing in the direction of the Crest.

Almost as if on cue, you stepped into the light of the afternoon sun from the belly of his ship, and Din’s breath seemed to seize in his chest.

It was as though you had transformed into a different woman than you had been when he left you here three days ago. Your long, braided hair had been wound up at the nape of your neck and partially covered with a scarf that you had tied around your head, and a welder’s helmet perched precariously on top of that, the tinted shield flipped up so you could see clearly. You had stripped the top half of your olive-green boilersuit down your body and tied the sleeves together low on your waist, leaving your chest covered in nothing but a sweat-soaked black band around your breasts. Your skin gleamed with exertion in the sunlight, highlighting the smoothness of your forehead, the hollow of your neck, the soft angle of your shoulders, and you were painted with the grime of engine oil and durasteel dust. You had a fusion cutter in your gloved hand, your grip practiced and strong.

And, as if all of that were not enough, there, strapped in a padded leather harness across your back, peaking up over your shoulder, was Grogu.

After a beat too long of silence, you seemed to spot him in the shade of the hangar, and you smiled softly. “Mando!” you called out, pointing to him. “Grogu, look – he’s back!”

Din watched as the child blinked in the direction that you had pointed, and then his little face split in a broad, toothy grin. He let out a joyful screech and immediately began squirming in his carrier, suddenly desperate to be let down.

You laughed – laughed – at this and began to descend the ramp, reaching back to lift Grogu from his post on your back and up over your shoulder. “Your little guy missed you,” you said fondly. You passed the child into the bounty hunter’s arms, that same softness he had noticed before dancing in the corners of your eyes. Din felt an inexplicable heat rising up his neck under his cowl.

Thankfully, both you and Grogu seemed oblivious to his body’s baffling response; you simply continued across the hangar, returning your fusion cutter to one of Peli’s many equipment racks, while Grogu babbled happy nonsense and gently patted the cheeks of Din’s helmet as though to say, “Welcome back.”

“Peli,” Din said, his voice strained and hoarse, “I’m only going to ask one more time. What. Is. Going. On.”

Peli rolled her eyes dramatically . “Your bounty here has skills, Mando!” she declared, gesturing emphatically at you with both her free hand and the one holding the datapad. “You had to know that! Took her less than a day to start pointing out all the stuff I was doing wrong. Figured I’d have her put her money where her mouth is.”

A bright flush made itself known on your cheeks, and you shook your head. “Excuse me – no, no. If you recall, I saved your life. And then you asked me to help you.”

“Details, details,” the older woman scoffed dismissively. “Look, Mando, she’s a starship engineer. And a damn good one, I’d say. She’s the one who figured out how to fix your carbonite freezer, not me.”

Din’s gaze snapped to you at that revelation, and he watched as you raised a hand to rub at the back of your neck in clear discomfort. You had fixed it?

Mentally, he quickly ran through all of the data in your bounty puck. Nowhere in your files had your profession been mentioned. How did you have the skills needed to repair something so sophisticated?

“I couldn’t just let her sit around on her hands the whole time you were gone,” Peli continued, completely unaware of Din’s distraction. “I mean, take a look at everything we’ve been able to get done with both of us on the job.” She passed him the datapad, pointing to the line items on the work order she had pulled up.

Din took a moment to study the list, both wary and reluctantly impressed. Peli wasn’t wrong – the amount of work the two of you had accomplished in just three days was staggering. In addition to the carbonite unit and a much-needed tune-up on the hyperdrive (which had apparently resulted in an efficiency gain of 25 percent), you and Peli had managed to replace about half of the Crest’s leaking powerlines, update the navigation to the latest operating system, recalibrate the deflector shield projectors around both engines, and scrub the carbon scoring from the Crest’s last fire fight from the hull. At the bottom of the list, a perfunctory five-credit charge had been added for something Peli had labeled as a “privacy screen.”

“This is…impressive,” he admitted. Grogu squealed happily in agreement from the cradle of Din’s arms.

The older engineer nodded, smirking in self-satisfaction. “Try it all out. You’ll see, it’s good work,” she said, gesturing toward the Crest. Din nodded once and strode up the gangplank, finding himself almost eager to see the improvements for himself.

He spent the next several minutes surveying the changes, noting that the repair of the carbonite freezer had apparently necessitated the complete disassembly of most of the starboard wall. He could also see where panels of the bulkheads and deck plating had been displaced to access other tubes and powerlines, though if this were not his ship, if he didn’t know it better than his own reflection, he wasn’t certain that he would have noticed. Everything had been re-assembled flawlessly, the only evidence of tampering being the slightly shiny look of freshly-welded solder along the panels’ joints.

However, he nearly burst into laughter when his eyes landed on the change that clearly had to be the “privacy screen” Peli had referred to in the work order. In the space between his bunk alcove and the port wall, a steel rod had been mounted, and a thick, black tarp had been hung from it, attached with a series of matching metal rings.

You had installed a makeshift curtain in front of the ship head.

Trusting that he would be able to test the improvements to the hyperdrive once he was out of the atmosphere, Din returned to the hangar, still chuckling under his breath.

“Well?” Peli prompted, crossing her arms across her chest in a confident pose.

“This is more than I could have asked for, especially given the time,” he replied honestly. He glanced back and forth between the two of you, noting the way Peli’s smirk expanded into a grin and the way your posture seemed to loosen as if in relief. “Thank you.”

“Aw, shucks, Mando! No need to thank me,” the older woman insisted. In spite of the dismissal, her voice couldn’t hide her pleasure at the praise. “Just sign at the bottom of that work order and hand over the credits! That’s always thanks enough!”

Din sighed, hearing it as a gruff hissing sound as his vocoder transmitted it. Why was he not surprised? “Yes. Of course,” he agreed, pulling the work order back up on the datapad. The price quoted at the bottom was significantly more than he had planned on spending (which, he knew, was very much intentional on Peli’s part), but the work was already done, and the security job he had just been paid for made it so he wouldn’t have to dip into his profits from this trip too much. He signed the work order with the tip of his finger. “This should do it, I think.” Reaching into a pouch on his utility belt, he pulled out a sizeable cloth drawstring bag, half-full with New Republic credits, and dropped it into Peli’s waiting hands.

Peli yanked the bag open immediately, assessing its contents with a keen eye. “That it will, my friend. That it will.”

Now that the hangar operator had been satisfied, Din turned his attention to you. At some point during this exchange, you had removed the welder’s helmet and your gloves, and you were in the process of untying the dusty scarf from around your head, revealing your hair. You had been sweating, and tendrils of it clung damply to your forehead, ears, and neck.

Shoving each of these inappropriate observations to the back of his mind, he cleared his throat and said, “So. You’re a starship engineer. I didn’t know.”

You seemed taken aback by that statement, your eyes narrowing and your brow crinkling in puzzlement. “Huh. Well. Like I told Peli. I’m not…exactly a starship engineer. But I suppose I might as well be.” You paused for a moment as you tugged your lower lip between your teeth. You seemed to debate something for a beat, and then you added, “I worked in the Chardaan Shipyards for almost a decade. I guess I thought you already knew that?” You phrased that statement like a question, confusion evident in your tone. “Didn’t you get a bunch of background information on me when you accepted my bounty puck?”

The Mandalorian shrugged. “Every bounty is different. Yours was…sparse. Planet of origin, last known location, your name. Some biometric data that allowed me to find you with your tracking fob. Nothing else.”

You seemed to digest that for a moment, your expression thoughtful, but before you could comment further, Peli interrupted.

“Hang on, honey – did you say the Chardaan Shipyards? The one where the New Republic has their fighters built?”

You nodded, a tight, closed-mouth smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

Of course, Din had heard of the Chardaan Shipyards. Anyone who knew anything about starships knew about them – the conglomerate of pressurized hangar spheres orbiting the planet Chardaan in the Inner Rim, the home of some of the most well-known custom starship and engine producers in the galaxy and the shipyard of choice for the New Republic since the days of the Galactic Civil War. He knew your bounty originated on Chardaan, though it hadn’t occurred to him that that might have been a clue as to your personal history. You had been easy enough to find, even easier to capture. He hadn’t bothered to dig any deeper than that. For some reason, that ignited a pang of guilt in his gut. He typically made it his business to know everything there was to know about his quarries. If he knew their history, if he understood them, he could walk in their shoes – predict their next move.

“That explains a lot,” Peli quipped, putting words to Din’s disorganized thoughts.

You didn’t respond, but regardless, an idea occurred to him then, and he couldn’t stop himself from taking a step toward you.

“You could have repaired the Razor Crest on your own. The carbonite freezer, the hyperdrive, the powerlines, all of it,” he said, trying to keep the accusation out of his voice and only partially succeeding.

A blush burned high on your cheeks, and you stepped back, bringing your bare arms to wrap around your midriff defensively. A heavy silence descended on the hangar, and you looked away. You were chewing on your lip again, digging your teeth into the rosy flesh, and Din allowed the quiet to linger, allowed you to come to your response on your own.

“Yes,” you eventually whispered. “I could have.”

“You never said.” Din recalled the way you had known the carbonite unit was broken before he did, the way you sat in the Razor Crest’s cargo hold, cradling Grogu, and watched him futilely attempt to repair it, the way you had sat back and allowed Peli to take the lead on the ship repair in his absence. Had he even needed to come to Tatooine? If you could have done it on your own…

You sighed then, your expression shifting from guilt to something like annoyance. “Mando… Come on. Why would I help my captor fix something he has already promised he will use against me?” You reached down to the tied sleeves of your boilersuit then and began tugging the garment back up your torso and over your arms. “That’s why we’re here, right?” you continued, your voice picking up speed and intensity as you spoke. “Peli and I did a bunch of other work, but it was the carbonite unit you were after. Why would I make it easier for you to put me in stasis? I’ve seen what that thing can do to people with just…the smallest miscalculation. Why would I volunteer for that?”

If you are able to fix it…are you going to freeze me?

Are you going to try to run again?

Three days, you had been here. No restraints, no locked doors, just a few meters away from potential freedom. You hadn’t run. Instead, you had repaired the means of your continued captivity. Why?

“Then why help fix it at all?” Din asked incredulously. “Why not just let Peli – ”

“Because her life was in danger,” you cut in. You seemed almost offended at the suggestion that you ought to have done something different. “Carbonite technology is dangerous, and not just for the people imprisoned in it. I wasn’t going to let her die just for the chance of keeping myself out of stasis.”

Peli chose that moment to weigh in. “It’s true, Mando. It was almost ‘time’s up’ for old Peli – if your girl hadn’t caught a gas leak, I’d have blown myself and your ship sky high.”

“And…” you shrugged, less defensive now, “It was better than doing nothing at all. It’s been a while since I got the chance to get my hands on a pre-Empire vessel. It was…nice.”

Din frowned. He had underestimated you. Not just your technical capabilities, but your character. He hadn’t met many bounties who would sacrifice their own freedom for someone they hardly knew. Unbidden, the memory of what you had said when you learned about the threats to Grogu’s life echoed through his mind. How could I ever hurt him?

There was no way he was going to be able to sleep at night if he froze you. The guilt would eat him alive.

“Well.” He paused, considering his next words carefully. “You’ve done fine work. Both of you.”

Peli grinned toothily and offered Grogu a tiny high-five. “Damn right, we did!”

“Unfortunately, I’m not able to compensate you for your work,” he continued, addressing you directly. “However, I would be willing to consider allowing you to remain out of stasis for the remainder of this run. In exchange for some additional maintenance work on the Crest as we travel. As a thank you.”

All of the breath seemed to leave you at once – your shoulders sagged, your mouth dropped open, and you allowed yourself to drop back to lean against the sandstone wall of the hangar. “You’re serious?” you asked softly, bewildered.

Din nodded once. “You’ve demonstrated that you can be trusted without restraints. You’ve been kind to my foundling. And you’re a talented engineer.” He paused for a moment, then added, “You have to understand, I will need to turn you in once I’ve collected the other quarries. I accepted your bounty puck – my Guild agent is owed a return of the asset. I can’t go back on my word. It’s against the Guild code, and against mine. But…I see no reason for you to suffer in the meantime.”

You broke his gaze, staring down at your hands. After a few seconds of contemplation, you murmured, “I understand.” With a nod seemingly to yourself, you pushed away from the wall, closed the distance between you, and extended a hand to shake on it. “It’s a deal.”

Din accepted your hand, finding it to be small in comparison to his own, but your grip was strong, and he felt his lips curl into a small smile behind his helmet.

With an affable grin, Peli patted each of you on the back bracingly. “See, Mando? Everything works out!” she crowed.

And Din thought that perhaps she was right.

___

With the matter of payment already settled, it took only a handful of minutes for the Mandalorian to load his many sacks of supply purchases into the Razor Crest and begin his pre-flight checks. With Peli’s blessing, you took those sacred few minutes to duck into her ‘fresher and take a break-neck sonic shower, eager to get the sweat, engine grime, and Tatooine desert dust off your skin before you settled in for another indeterminate period of time in deep space.

As the sonic waves vibrated and lifted away specks of oil and dirt faster than your eyes could follow, you felt as though your thoughts were moving just as quickly. You had known the risks when you stepped in to assist with the carbonite freezer repair. You had fully anticipated that the moment Mando returned and confirmed that it was once again operational, his first action would be to seal you away in frigid, half-life stasis between two sheets of carbonite. Regardless, you had done what you needed to do to keep Peli safe and to keep the Razor Crest intact. You had never expected compensation for that choice.

To know that the bounty hunter recognized this, to know that he acknowledged not only your technical skills but your sacrifice, and saw fit to offer you what he could in exchange was both validating and deeply unsettling.

Resentment and bitterness still clung to your sentiments toward the Mandalorian. You could appreciate that he was just doing his job, that he had been given a task and he was executing on that task for payment, just like anyone else trying to make a living in the galaxy. He ensured you were well fed, he offered you medicine when you were injured, he left you in the care of a kind woman when he had to leave, and now, he was giving you the opportunity to remain both out of stasis and out of your restraints for the next several weeks while he finished his hunt. There was man of honor buried under all that stoicism and beskar. You couldn’t deny it.

But before he had come into your life, before he had stood across from you on the other side of your bar with your bounty puck glowing in the dim cantina lighting, you had finally gotten a taste of freedom. You had gotten to choose the clothes you wore, the food you ate, how long you slept. You had been paid a fair wage, and you had gotten to choose how you spent it. You had even started to make friends, which wasn’t something you had experienced since childhood. It was a life unlike any you had known before, and you had relished it.

Every time you caught yourself thinking somewhat fondly of the Mandalorian and the respectful, almost gentle way he treated you, you were immediately reminded that if it were not for him, that freedom would still be yours.

What he was offering you was far better than the carbonite alternative, and you would be a fool to turn it down. But it was not true freedom. It was temporary, false. You were grateful, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t leave a touch of sourness in your stomach.

Your mind was still cloudy when you emerged from the ‘fresher, your long hair clean and soft against your neck as you braided it back away from your face once more. You spotted Mando immediately, hovering near the ramp up into the Razor Crest, Grogu balanced contentedly on his hip. You smiled involuntarily. In spite of your complicated feelings toward his caretaker, you couldn’t seem to muster any negative sentiments toward the child. He was easily the best part of your current situation, with his toothy smiles and his sweet babbles and his giant, bug-like eyes. After the life you had lived, he brought a softness out in you that you hadn’t been certain you still possessed, and you adored him for it.

“Ah, there she is!” Peli called out, shading her eyes and spotting you in the shadow of the overhang.

Mando turned to face you, his impenetrable black visor reflecting a mirror image of the surrounding hangar. “Come,” he said, beckoning to you with orange-tipped fingers. “It’s time to leave.”

You nodded once and crossed quickly into the beaming sunlight.

Peli smiled at you, offering you a firm handshake. “Well, missy, not often do I get to work with someone like you around here,” she said brightly. “It was fun. Maybe we’ll get to do it again sometime.”

You swallowed hard and fought to muster up a smile in return. You wondered if that was just a platitude, something people said to one another when parting ways, or if she meant it. You weren’t sure which one you would prefer.  

“Yeah, maybe we will.” You hoped your voice didn’t sound as shaky to her as it did to you. The Guild is sending me back to Chardaan. We’ll never see each other again, you thought.

“And you take good care of the little guy, Mando, you hear?” The older woman stepped forward and offered Grogu an affectionate rub of one large ear. “See you later, bright eyes.”

Mando nodded in her direction. “Thank you again,” he said. With a gesture that told you to follow him, he strode up the ramp and disappeared into the cargo hold, you close on his heels.

As the gangplank retracted and the blast doors closed, the bounty hunter passed Grogu into your arms.

“I’m going to get us out of the atmosphere,” he rasped through his helmet modulator. “There’s fresh fruit in the chiller locker if you’re hungry.”

The child cooed at that, and you felt the corners of your mouth turn up in spite of yourself. “Sure, thanks,” you said. Mando quickly ascended the ladder up into the cockpit then, leaving you and his foundling to your own devices.

Grabbing a meiloorun from storage, you settled yourself on top of one of the anonymous gray cargo bins, Grogu watching your every move with interest as you peeled back the skin and exposed the sweet flesh inside. You took a bite as you heard the Razor Crest’s engines turn over, and you passed the fruit to the child as you felt the landing gear retract beneath you. He dug in with gusto, his ears wiggling in approval as juice dripped down his chin and onto his brown robes, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm.

The sound of heavy footsteps on the deck above drew your gaze away from the spectacle, and a moment later, the Mandalorian dropped down the ladder into the cargo hold.

“We’ll get out of the system then jump to hyperspace,” he said somewhat absently as he examined a datapad that he had brought with him from the cockpit. He grabbed one of the several packs he had loaded onto the Crest from his supply run and began pulling various items out, appearing to record them on the datapad in some kind of inventory. He said nothing more, and it left you feeling a bit out of place just sitting and watching him while he worked.  

After what felt like several minutes of this, you cleared your throat. “So…what happens now?” you asked, your hands twisting hesitantly in your lap.

Mando did not look up at you, ostensibly fully absorbed in his task. “Now, I move on to the next bounty,” he said. “And you do what you did with Peli. Identify systems on the Razor Crest that need your attention and repair them accordingly.”

You frowned slightly at that. “I’m sure you know that some work I won’t be able to do while we’re in hyperspace. Some things will have to wait until we’ve landed somewhere.” You were already mentally running through the list of systems in need of repairs based on the diagnostics you and Peli had run before you left Tatooine. There were more powerlines to replace, the air recycler was well past due for a cleaning, not to mention you were certain that given enough time, you could get more out of the Razor Crest’s hyperdrive than it was currently giving you…

“I’m aware,” the bounty hunter agreed. “Those are things you can work on while I’m away on a hunt.”

“You want me to stay on the ship by myself while you hunt?” You did nothing to hide the discomfort in your voice. In spite of your complex emotions surrounding the Mandalorian, you felt as though you would be safer with him than you would be on your own. You didn’t know the first thing about bounty hunting, but surely it would be taking you to some…unsavory places? Did he really want you to stay behind?

That was finally enough to get him to look at you. Dropping the datapad into the supply bag, he turned in your direction, crossing his arms over his broad, armored chest. “Do you know how to handle a blaster?” he asked impatiently.

You shook your head. “No.”

“What about a vibroblade?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head again. “…no.”

“Then yes, I want you to stay on the ship while I hunt. It’s too dangerous to take someone with no combat training into the field. You’ll be safer here with the ground defense systems activated.” His tone carried a note of finality you knew better than to argue against. You supposed you could understand his stance, and though you didn’t relish the idea of being cooped up in the narrow walls of the Razor Crest for days on end, you knew yourself well enough to acknowledge that you didn’t have the skills you would need to be of any help against another bounty.

“And, if you’re up for it,” he added after a moment, “Grogu will stay here with you.”

You felt your eyebrows raise at that, but you didn’t protest. “Sure. I don’t mind keeping an eye on him,” you said. The little guy had a streak of mischief in him a mile wide, but he was also incredibly sweet, and he seemed fond of you. You knew that if he ever got out of hand, you could simply strap him to your body in the carrier you had fashioned for him, and he would be content.

Mando nodded at that. “Then it’s settled.” Turning back to his inventory task, he continued, “You’re welcome to any of the food or hygiene products we have on board. You don’t need to ask permission before you use something. The only thing off limits is that cabinet.” He pointed at the mysterious silver cabinet you had noticed days ago when you had been surveying the ship. A flickering control panel was mounted to the wall next it, which you knew meant it was locked. “Don’t attempt to open it,” he cautioned, his voice firm and dark. “If you do, I’ll know.”

Inexplicably, the harshness of the command sent a flash of heat through you, and you knew a blush had to be burning in your cheeks. “Understood,” you said, your throat suddenly dry. You looked away from him immediately, desperate to find somewhere else to rest your gaze.

As you did so, another thought occurred to you. “Um…one last thing?”

“Yes?” His reply was curt but not cold as he continued his work.

“Sleeping,” you said hesitantly. “Where should I sleep? If you have a few spare blankets, I can make do with the deck, it’s not a problem. I just don’t want to be somewhere where I’m going to get in your way.”

That seemed to give him pause, and he turned his head to you once more. After a brief silence, he answered, “There’s a bunk in the corner.” He said it as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, as though he was confused as to why this was even a question.

You fought not to roll your eyes at him as your blush burned hotter. “No, I know, it’s just that…that’s your bunk,” you said.

The Mandalorian appeared to consider that for a moment before shrugging dismissively. “I’m accustomed to going long periods of time without sleep. It won’t be difficult for us to take turns.”

“Are you sure? I really wouldn’t mind sleeping somewhere else,” you insisted.

Rather than replying, he simply stared at you. It was clear that he wasn’t understanding your hesitance, and you thought perhaps it was best to just drop it before he began to question it further.

“Got it,” you said eventually. “I’ll use the bunk when I need it.”

“Good.”

“So what’s the next stop?” you asked after a beat. Grogu had finished the meiloorun, and you took the sticky remnants from him and hopped down off of the storage bin to toss it in the refuse recycler. “Where’s the next quarry?”

“There’s a bail jumper whose last known location was on Ryloth. I wasn’t planning on doing that one next, but it’s so close, I don’t know if I will be able to justify a trip back to this sector. It’s just a short jump down the Corellian Run,” the bounty hunter explained.

You considered this information for a moment. You knew little of the planet Ryloth; it was mostly known for being the home planet of the Twi’leks and for its somewhat treacherous terrain, so you didn’t feel as though you knew any better what to expect when you landed than you had a minute ago.

Just as you were using the back of your sleeve to wipe the meiloorun juice from Grogu’s mouth, Mando seemed to finish his inventorying.

“We should be well out of Tatooine’s star system by now. I’ll get us into hyperspace,” he said.

“We’ll be here,” you said, gesturing at the grinning child now nibbling absently on the wrist of your boilersuit.

Mando paused for a moment then, one foot on the ladder, and appeared to study you both. He glanced from you, to Grogu, and then back to you, and that blush came roaring back into your cheeks as you swore you could feel his gaze settling on your body through his helmet.

You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of that notion. What the kriff was wrong with you?

However, the moment passed as quickly as it had come. The bounty hunter appeared to almost shake himself, and then without another word, he took the ladder rungs two at a time and disappeared.

[cts-ryu-writing-desk]

Melissa is Overdue

This was a little piece I thought up on a whim. A Pregnancy that went well overdue. Anyway this was pretty fun to work on.

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~

Melissa was just an average woman living in a small town. One day in the fall, she discovered that she was pregnant. Melissa at first was rather reluctant to discover this, as she was now all alone. Of course, it would happen after her boyfriend left her with his blonde whore of a waitress from the local diner. She was heavily contemplating aborting the baby. But eventually changed her mind. The reason she never divulged to anyone.

Melissa was already a rather plump lady to begin with and as the pregnancy progressed she wasn’t exactly overjoyed about it. She was hoping for more of the easy-to-manage symptoms with her pregnancy, like tiredness, and some morning sickness.

What she learned is that it is more of a roulette wheel, and what she got was a sensitivity to smells, wild and erratic mood swings, and incredibly tender breasts. At least when she discovered she was having a baby boy. If she was going to have one at least she wanted it to be “easy” as she’d put it. 

Weeks turned to months, and Melissa's baby grew bigger and bigger. Her plump tum rounded out into a fully-fledged baby bump by the time she reached six months. As her pregnancy developed into more of the later stages she talked with her doctor about her plan. “I want a water birth, I’ve already been in talks with a few different midwives,” she told her nurse

“I can see you’ve set your sights on it,” the nurse replied

“I have,” She told her doctor confidently

One thing that she absolutely did not want was to be cut open in any regard. She knew tearing might happen and resigned herself to that. But did not want to be cut open surgically if she didn’t need to. Something she voiced with extreme prejudice to her doctor, Gregory Lipshcitz, many times over several appointments.

“I just wanna make sure that you have a backup plan should something go wrong.”

“I know and nothing will go wrong, 'cause I already have it all planned out,” she told him

She was getting closer to her due date, July Second. Melissa was already a few weeks away. As she ran through everything she had planned out meticulously every detail from when she expected to start feeling her contractions to the hour she expected her baby to be born. She wanted everything to fall into place according to her own time and her convenience. But as July Second came and went, the baby didn’t so much as attempt to arrive.

“Sometimes babies come when they’re ready,” her closest friend told her

“Bullshit,” she replied “They can come when I’m ready for them”

A trip to her doctor would confirm this fact. However, he was out of town. And the stand-in, Doctor Edward Thompson, did not feel the same as she did. “You only missed it by a day and the little guy seems fine and healthy so, I don’t feel there is a need to induce your labor right now.”

‘I can think of several,” She pointed out to him, partially annoyed that her plans were ruined.

“Well we can agree to disagree,” Dr. Thompson told her, “I’m sure he’ll come out when you least expect it,” he told her wishing her well as she left the hospital

Melissa drove home with her bump nearly against the steering wheel. She started to look into ways to naturally induce her labor. She tried them all. She tried exercise, according to one study she saw a two-and-a-half-mile walk every day or a thirty-minute workout could help pop her. But nothing came of it except a daily fatigue halfway through the day. She ate a bowl of dates every day hearing that they could induce labor. Again there was nothing. 

The last thing she tried was sex. With no real boyfriend to fuck her rather regularly she took to having one of her friends dick her down nice and hard. But that too didn’t induce labor, even after getting fucked several times a day all she got was more frustration from the fact that he was less than reciprocating to her own needs. It had now been two whole weeks and she hadn’t even felt so much as a contraction.

Now at her doctor at forty-two weeks, huge and overdue she wanted to know if she could be induced now. “Despite my stubborn boy, he does need to come out eventually”

Dr. Thompson of course said he would consult with her primary doctor on this matter. With the go-ahead, they were ready to begin. While a nurse was setting up the IV line Melissa was asked, “So you haven’t felt any labor pains? No Braxton hicks? Nothing?”

“I wish I did,” she said

Not that she had pitocin coursing through her system. They waited for the telltale sign that it was doing its job. They waited the allotted forty minutes, but Melissa didn’t feel a thing. Not so much as a single cramp. Her water didn’t even break. An hour passed, but still nothing. Ultrasounds confirmed the baby was alive and healthy. “I don’t understand it,” Dr. Thompson said aloud

Objecting to use it again. They started to wade in on the idea of their next course of action. Melissa stayed in the hospital that night as they kept a close eye on her. She ended up sleeping rather soundly that night. Only really woke up to pee cause her son was using her bladder like a pillow.

Several doctors were gathered around Thompson and Lipschitz. Looking at extra copies of the ultrasound other doctors weighed in on the matter. They noted that the baby hasn’t dropped into position yet which could be the root cause. One suggests that there may be a different method of induction. All of them still neglect the fact that Melissa was over forty-two weeks pregnant, and her water didn’t break even after having pitocin in her system. Hours passed, and before she knew it another day had passed.

Melissa finally buckled and relented to her earlier point. “Fine, just give me a C-section! Let’s get this over with,” she told them.

The doctors didn’t waste any time. However, it didn’t exactly go according to plan. Bizarre and unforeseen circumstances caused a pause or a hindrance every time she was going to be wheeled in for a cesarean. An electrical fire erupted as they prepared the room for Melissa. Another surgical room had the ceiling collapse in on it. The nurses talked amongst each other about how it felt like this was an eerie coincidence.

Melissa was starting to feel it too. “Am I just gonna be cursed to be pregnant forever?”

“No,” One nurse tried to console her. 

“Then why haven’t I felt anything, any sign that this kid is gonna be coming out of me.”

Unsure how to respond. The nurse simply replied, “I’m sure that your son will be coming out any day now,”

Another week passed and she was now three weeks overdue. Walking felt rather cumbersome, and her waddle stride didn’t feel like it covered enough ground. She complained about how her son was just getting heavier and heavier.

The doctors still didn’t have an answer. The hospital was rather cautious about attempting to induce her again. The two surgical rooms they had lost were still in the clean-up phases. They absolutely did not want to risk a freak accident happening again and taking out another room.

Despite the hospital administration's growing concerns, Melissa remained determined to go for another. A different hospital. A different part of town. Only to be met with the same thing. A freak accident, this one a chemical explosion, the cause of which was still being determined.

“Oh god,” Melissa uttered upon hearing the news that her procedure was being moved to another date. “I’m gonna be fucking pregnant forever aren’t I?” she asked with a melancholy head hunched down over her massive baby belly.

Melissa felt her son moving, a little food pressing against the skin. She closed her eyes and tried to hold back her tears. Was this supposed to be a sign? Was this her baby's way of telling her that he was never going to leave her?

Several more weeks had passed and she was now sitting at a staggering fifty-two weeks. Her stubborn boy refused to budge. Not so much as a sign that the baby was coming out. He rested nice and high, not even descending. It was getting harder for Melissa to walk around and carry the weight of this pregnancy.

Sitting down for too long made her legs go numb. And lying down she found it was getting harder to stand back up. The way she waddled she was bound to knock things down more and more making trips to the store all the more challenging. She was getting embarrassed by her size. She was beginning to feel like she was under some kind of curse, a curse to carry her son in her womb forever.

One night before bed. As she lay there overburdened Resting as comfortably as she could, she started to question her baby, “Why haven’t you come out? What did I do to you? I carried you, I fed you so you’d grow, I did everything to make sure you grew healthy.” She was starting to tear up, “So why… So why won’t you come out?”

She waited. Nothing. She felt him lay there against where her hand was but not so much as an arm moved.

“What did I do wrong?” she asked

That night in her dream, she was standing there massively overdue. In her dream, she knew she had been pregnant for years. Her son just got bigger and bigger, never leaving the confines of her womb. She strained her back to keep her massively distending pregnant belly from scraping against the floor. The floor was a pedestal of stained glass heavily embroidered with imagery of broken hearts. She could hear every plan she ever made, every little detail she had ever planned out. A single question from one person she had overlooked. An interaction that seemed rather unimportant at the time.

“It doesn't sound like you love them,” a woman commented she too was expecting a baby herself

It was when Melissa was in the store buying some maternity clothes. “That doesn’t matter, Until they’re here it's all about me,” she said arrogantly

“That’s so sad,” she commented back. “How could you not love them before they’re born?”

Something Melissa never answered then. She woke up to see her huge belly, her hand still resting on it gently. With a soft voice and a gentle caress, she muttered the words to her sleeping baby boy, “I love you, Joshua. I love you,”

She felt him move that fluttering feeling; like back in the earliest stages of her pregnancy. Melissa closed her eyes and said it again. Faintly she started to feel the weight shifting. And the sensation around her uterus. A tingle at first that got stronger. She was fifty-two weeks pregnant, and with three simple words, she started to feel the early signs of labor. Melissa hoped he’d be coming out soon, happy and healthy, she didn’t care what happened to her now. But it wasn’t to be, she carried for another forty-eight days with no sign of ending in sight. As week sixty approached its end, her waiting son chose then to begin his birthing.

[nickybloodhead]

Kinktober day 18: Spank

James had you bent over his thigh, your legs spread wide as he ran his hand over your ass, massaging the tender skin admiringly. Your cheeks were flushed at his attentions, the reverent way he was caressing you was intoxicatingly endearing, making you sigh.

"I love that juicy little ass of yours, it fits perfectly in my hands" He gives one of your ass cheeks a little pinch, you squirm in his lap which earns you a particularly hard spank, you moan in response to the slightly painful tingle on your skin. "Must I remind you not to move baby? Unless, of course, you want another slap"

You gently shake your head, biting your lip to avoid saying something that will provoke him. He strokes your back affectionately at your obedience and continues to worship your bottom, he hooks his finger in the edge of your panties and lets the elastic fall over you with a dull sound, you whimper at the little lash but don't move, he hums happily at that.

His hands rest on your buttocks and he squeezes them firmly, your back arches involuntarily.

"Oh gorgeous, it looks like you're not following instructions today" His palm slams into your bum, the burn runs across your sensitive area and you whimper loudly.

"James please..." you beg, but you don't know what for, whether to continue or to stop, you look up at him with hooded eyes, he holds your face and caresses your lower lip.

"I'll give you what you need, I just need you to hold still" He smiles encouragingly at you, fixes his gaze on your butt again "Though I must admit, leaving your skin red with my handprint on your ass cheek is quite a pleasure to behold" He teases gently and pulls down your panties, leaving them around your knees. You close your eyes in anticipation, eager to be touched at last.

"I see, looks like you were enjoying the spanking, huh? Look at you, you're practically dripping from it" He has a mischievous tone as he slips two of his fingers into you, your toes contract at the intrusion, you groan through your teeth. He moves them in slow at first, but after a few minutes he rams you with full force, he touches the sweet spot inside you which makes you squeal and squirm, the burn from his spanks returning but you don't care anymore, not with the way he's fingering you.

You move your hips so he fucks you deep with his fingers, your pussy clenches around him as your thighs close, you practically ride his hand when he decides to add another finger, your mouth opens from the delicious sensations he gives you, your drool slides down your chin.

"So close...fuck James...I'm gonna..." your voice cuts off in a choked scream as you convulse at the pleasure of your orgasm, his fingers not stopping as you squirt, the splashing sound filling the room obscenely. You melt into his lap, your thighs contracting every now and then at the aftershocks.

James lifts you up and cradles you in his arms, caresses your skin and leaves a kiss on your cheek.

"I don't know how you manage to surprise me every time, you're the best sweetheart" You blink sleepily and give him your best smile.

"You know me, I'm full of surprises."

I mean, James can leave his handprint on me whenever he wants.

[askganon]

Sav'aaq, Great King! It is the Bloodied Survivor again! Though I suppose "Bloodied Warrior" might be a better moniker now, it would be disrespectful to deny the honor you've shown me, recognizing me as one, even if I dont think I'm worthy or deserving the fact of the matter is YOU do and my mind is trained by poison from my abusers so surely there is something there im incapable of seeing... It is a shame I was unable to read your response under a Dragmire ruled Hyrule, though it is important to remember that it is inevitable and even should it not come in our time, it will for those who come after us, maybe even our children. Much has changed since I sent my last letter, as it would with any life its been a series of ups and downs. The job I spoke of last time ended up getting a new manager shortly after that ruined everything and the entire staff either quit or were fired... I managed to find even greater, more enjoyable work that made me very happy and satisfied, I shouldn't go into specifics but it was important safety work done in an lab. Alas, for the new year they wanted to increase everyones pay! ...by letting go someone from each department... Of course with me only having been there a few months (though my boss said I was the best in the department and was angry about my leave) I was cut... I have already found a new job with much greater pay doing the same work though, so it all worked out I suppose? I've since move out on my own and away from family, good and bad, though the accomadations... While fine, isnt an enviorment for me specifically. When my contract with the land lord ends this year I plan on relocating, ever on the move still... Though I'm sure I'll find a good place for roots eventually! My bonds and companions are still strong as ever, though few of them are willing to truly cherish and understand me, but I've since thrown aways all chains, locks and keys so its only a matter of time. Were all a bit distant lately, though not cause of any issues, my closest comrade is in his final year of higher study, I have been working full-time and life has kept everyone busy and on different schedules but were still making time for each other. I have also found a loving partner, which is a suprise for even me! I never showed much interest in the ways of love as I always thought I should work on myself first and foremost before searching. I have many flaws and harmful traits that while friends may accept and be patient with would be fatal to anyone I decide to court with if not also myself. It would not be fair to the hypothetical partner nor myself if I was aware of such things and still sought them out I feel. I also admit to have never really felt such feelings as tender as "Love" before in my life, lust sure, but romantic love? I never felt such a thing till I met them. Love is a force that finds you rather than the otherway around I've learned. I am still very, very tired, depressed and rest is rare, but I have found it and I am less tired. When your response arrived I had been suffering from an illness that occured due to enacting proper self maintenance after years of self neglect regarding my teeth, coming off of the common flu which I caught from the vaccine to prevent it funnily enough, and have been bed ridden and stuck in my own depressed thoughts for a week and a half. Needless to say I was feeling very down and out once again, but reading my last message reminded me of how much I have gained and still yet to gain and how good my life has become. Your response forced me to realize and accept it was, will and have been all because of my endless efforts and that even should I struggle it will bear fruit for me to eat and shade to rest in. I used to hate my reflection. I would always want to reach through the glass and strangle its throat. Now when I look in the mirror, I see the warrior you praised me to be. I will do what I can to match it.

P.S. While I did come to the realization before your response and accept the victory all my own as you offered, I do think its still important to recognize and appreciate that your response ended up being the correct answer : ).

The fruit with the sweetest taste is not one easily grown. It is only through struggle and strife that victory feels all the better, and the deeper, all the more meaningful.

Just so, the victories of the mind snd the self are prized all the more when the great puzzles are solved without aid.

I am pleased to know mu words reminded you that your victory is once again yours alone to claim.

[bbieangel]

No outbreak!Joel Miller x Nonbinary!Reader

A/N: This was requested and I loved writing it! I hope you like it. I feel like Joel would be very understanding if he had a partner with an uterus.

Summary: You have a really bad period and your boyfriend, Joel, does his best effort to help you feel better.

Tags: Fluff! Reader cries a lot. No gender specified (anon asked for a non-binary reader so that's what I did) so the only thing that's mentioned is that reader really struggles with their period! pet names (darling, honey, sweetheart, baby), mentions of blood (obvs) and nausea.

Word count: 3.8k

Separators are by @saradika-graphics ! 🫂

You hate having your period. I mean, who doesn't really?

But yours isn't normal. At all. And even though your doctor said the pill would help, it hasn't. The bleeding has lessened, but your cramps are so bad that you'll spend five days a month staying in bed. Luckily, you worked from home so you didn't have to take days off.

Joel is aware of it, and if he had the power he would do anything to get rid of your suffering.

While he's out doing running some errands, you're in bed. Nausea runs through your throat every time a cramp hits you, to the point where you start to cry. Your body is hot, you're sweating and you don't know what else to do to help it.

When he opens the door to your apartment and hears your muffled cries, he leaves the bags on the kitchen counter and runs up to you.

"Oh, darlin'.."

He says with a clear look of worry in his face, and pulls you in the most comforting hug.

"What's the matter? Does it hurt a lot or are ya just sad?"

Between sobs you manage to tell him that it hurts. That's when he pulls you away and sees how pale your skin looks, as you haven't been able to eat a lot.

He gently brushes your hair away from your face, some strands wet from your tears.

"How 'bout this.. I'll fill up the bathtub with warm water, light up some candles and make you something to fill up that empty stomach. I read that warm baths can help ease the pain."

Oh, of course he read it. He's always doing his own research on how to treat your period cramps, how to make those days better. He's always been so gentle even when you're overwhelmed from everything and push him away. He understands, or at least tries to.

You nod softly and wipe your tears away, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips when he places a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Be right back, 'kay? Don't leave the bed."

He whispers as he goes into the bathroom, you can hear the water rushing. He puts a little bit of lavender in it and a bathbomb, a red one, as he knows you aren't really fond of blood.

Then he goes into the kitchen and prepares a cup of hot chocolate with lots of marshamllows in it, just how you like it.

"Come here, my love."

He says in the most gentle tone and helps you get out of bed. He grabs a pair of clean pyjamas and underwear for you.

You look behind you and notice that you've stained the bedsheets, which makes the waterworks start again.

"What happened?"

He asks, cupping your face. You point at the bed and mumble multiple apologies.

He shushes you and leads you into the bathroom.

"Hun, it's just a stain. Ya know I could never get mad at you for something that isn't your fault. Also, you think I can't handle a bit of blood?"

He jokes, trying to lighten up the mood which works, as you chuckle.

"There's my baby.."

He says softly and strokes your cheek. He helps you get out of your clothing and your cheeks burn red, even though you've been his partner for years now.

He presses a kiss on your lips, which makes your body instantly relax. It's tender, loving, and you melt in his arms. His fingers softly trail up and down your arms, then he rests his hands on your shoulders.

"You're so beautiful.. nothin' to be ashamed of."

He whispers and leads you into the tub. As soon as you get in, a shiver goes down your spine as you feel the pleasure of the warm water hit you instantly. Your muslces relax, your uterus stops contracting so hard and for the first time in hours, you take a deep breath.

"There you go.."

He mumbles and hands you the cup full of hot chocolate. There's a table on the side of your bathtub, something he had crafted you as he knows you like to take long baths. He had carved his name into it, along with a moth. You smiled to yourself, remembering when you first saw it.

He's about to leave the room to let you relax on your own when you mutter a soft "no".

"What's that, hun?"

He turns around.

"Don't leave.."

You say, your tears had stopped going down your cheeks and only trails of them could be seen.

"Then I'll stay right by your side."

He gives you a warm smile and sits down on the floor besides the tub, then strokes your cheek lovingly. You two spend time there just bonding, memories from when Ellie and Sarah lived with him blossom in the conversation. He tells you he's dealt with their periods before and would do anything to take their pain away. "I would never judge you, I've seen my own daughters go through this." He reassures you.

Even if you've been together for years, you still need some reassurance. Hearing him say it just makes your heart warmer, and you press a kiss on the back of his hand as a way to let him know that you've understood his point.

Once you're out of the shower, fresh and clean, you notice that Joel has already changed the sheets for you. The smell of the floral perfume he sprayed on them makes your chest warm.

"Want me to dry your hair?"

He offers with the hair-dryer in hand.

You nod with a smile and he goes at it, his fingers brushing through your hair as the warm air hits your scalp. When he's done, he helps you get in bed and he does the same.

He pulls you up to his chest, and hands you a pill.

"Just in case, we don't want the cramps to come back."

He smiles and you chug it down with water. After that, you cuddle up to your chest and mumble a sweet "I love you".

"I love you too, darlin'. And I love how clingy you get when you're on your period."

You nudge him softly and shake your head, even if you know that what he's saying is true.

A small laugh comes out of his mouth and you could swear you wouldn't be able to live without it.

You both watch a tv show until you fall asleep in his arms. He smiles at himself, remembering how lucky he is to have you.

"Good night."

He whispers and he turns the tv off, shifting his body to find a comfortable position before going into a sleep slumber.

The groceries were forgotten on the kitchen counter. Not that he cares, though, because to him nothing matters more than you.

[stories-of-the-nrm]

Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds Part 7

Narrator: It was now February, 2008. As promised Gordon went to visit his brother.

(We see Gordon sitting down by Scott's bedside).

Gordon: Hello Scott. Happy Birthday.

(He grabs Scott's hand).

Gordon: A lot has changed since I last saw you. Do you remember the Peppercorn that the A1 Steam Locomotive Trust started working on? You know, the one being built in Darlington?

(Gordon pauses as if Scott can answer).

Gordon: Well, I just heard the news that the engineers have officially completed the tender. Combined with a successful first static firing, I believe this engine will get introduced to the railway before the end of summer.

(He shakes his head).

Gordon: As for you, the latest update about your boiler is that a quotation was sent to a contract manager. I find it quite pathetic that a company such as Pridham managed to lose complete control of such a project. At this rate, work will likely resume at the end of the year.

(He sighs).

Gordon: My greatest fear is that the Peppercorn will pass its trials and become a functional passenger engine before work on your boiler can even begin again.

(He watches Scott breath then pats his hand).

Gordon: Your crew will be here shortly. Sir Topham Hatt is expecting me soon as well. As soon as they get here, I must take my leave.

(Gordon stays by Scott's side until Gary and George arrive).

Gary: Thank you for being here with him, Gordon.

Gordon: As much as I would say it was my pleasure, there is nothing pleasurable about these circumstances.

(George pats Gordon on the shoulder).

George: Indeed. At least you were able to visit your brother as promised.

Gordon: I had to. Scott is my only brother. I lost so many years because of poor management. This is all I can do to make sure I have no regrets in case...

(Gordon can't finish his thought. While no one wants to think about Scott's engine being scrapped, it's still a possibility that has to be considered. After all, it's always possible that Scott simply can't be fixed anymore).

Gary: We understand Gordon. Don't worry. Your brother could never be scrapped. The NRM wouldn't be able to scrap him anyway. The amount of money spent on him only to scrap him would mean they're admitting that they've lost complete control over everything.

(Gordon nods).

Gordon: Yes I agree. I need to keep my hopes up. The hope that everything involving my brother's rebuild will restart again.

(He looks at Gary and George).

Gordon: How long can he stay like this?

(George sighs).

George: None of us knows. We can only assume that so long as his engine exists he won't immediately die.

(Gordon rubs his eyes).

Gordon: Why do I have a strong feeling that this is a process that will take more than a year to complete?

Gary: Because deep down we all know it could come true. All we can do is support Scott. Even if he can't hear us, I always think that he can sense us in some way.

Gordon: Thank you.

(He looks at the clock).

Gordon: I really must go now. I hope you gentlemen have a good day.

Gary: Um Gordon. How did Scott usually celebrate his birthday?

(Gordon chuckles).

Gordon: With food of course. He always enjoyed eating despite our human forms not requiring it. I can tell you this story some other time, but I still remember our first time trying food quite fondly.

(This seemed to have lifted everyone's spirits. Gordon waves goodbye as Gary and George take up their daily vigilance again).

Gary: Well George this is going to be some day.

George: Yeah.

(Gary looks at George).

Gary: You up for a round of ale at the pub later today?

George: Of course I am. After all, this is Scott's birthday.

(The two laugh to themselves. Acting as if Scott isn't in a coma is the only way to make the day more cheerful).

Tagging: @bluy1206, @werbitssft, @klein-sodor-bahn, @theyellowroseofsodor, @juniebugsss,

@tornadoyoungiron, @pxmun, @nelllia, @pxmun2, @thefedoragirl,

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