#// posting once more this. terribly early morning but like yeah

[vctrvn-ls]

Treat Me Better

note: shld I make this a series typa thing? also first time posting not from the app lmao, hopefully this’ll post properly. warnings: swearing, angry sharky (not typical)

wordcount: 1.1k

part 2

part 3

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You slammed the door of your apartment with a low and annoyed groan.

You were wet, freezing, hungry and tired.

With shaking hands and a quivering lip you untied your shoelaces, you didn’t know if you were cold or on the verge of a breakdown.

You dragged your feet from the hallway to the living room couch, not even bothering to take off your soaking wet jeans and socks. 

Another groan left your lips, this time it was more genuine and sad. You curled up on the couch, hugging your knees and screwing your eyes shut, remembering how terribly your day went.

After taking your first set of mock exams this morning, you realized how much you don’t know. And despite all your efforts and sleepless nights of studying, you felt like giving up hope to achieve those high grades you so desired. 

You were just about to rethink how you got caught in a storm with your broken bag and torn umbrella, when you felt your phone buzz. 

You took it out of your back pocket. It was cold and damp, with drops of water smeared on the screen. How was it even working?

You looked at your messages seeing “Sharks ❤️” on the screen. Usually you’d smile, but today it was if you had no energy to do so. Before you could reply, your phone lit up and began vibrating. He was calling you.

“Fuck,” you whispered. After a quick practice of your fake happy voice you answered the call.

“Heeeyy,” you tried to sound as bubbly as you could.

“Hey baby, howd the mocks go?”

You stayed silent.

“I saw you haven’t been online since this morning. You alright?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah I was just,” your eyes darted around as you tried to make up an excuse.

“Just what?”  

“Just…needed to get something done and didn’t have the chance to pick my phone up.” 

“You have any plans for the weekends?”

“Studying. My second set of mocks is on Tuesday.”

“Oh, right.” He sounded a little disappointed “Well I hope everything’s alright. If you feel like it, maybe we can go out tomorrow?”

You let out a sigh. It was more of a breathe than a sigh really, but Sharky misunderstood the tone of your breath and took it in as annoyed.

“Or- Well we don’t have to. I was just making a suggestion…haven’t seen you in ages.” 

You frowned without replying.

After a few seconds of silence you finally said “Could you…come over?” You even sat up, shocked by your spontaneous suggestion.

“…Really?” 

You hummed.

“I-I mean yeah of course I’d love to.”

“It’s late.” You said as if reminding him.

“So? It’s not like I wake up early or I have somewhere to be.”

“Then I’m waiting.” You laid back down.

Half an hour went by and you didn’t even notice. You were so burnt out that you couldn’t even find the motivation to look at least a little presentable for your boyfriend’s arrival. Realization only hit once there was a timid knock on the door.

You cursed under your breathe and got up, walking over to the door, unlocking it.

“You okay, baby?” Was the first thing Sharky said.

“Wha-Do I not look okay?” You got a little irritated by his question.

“N-no I was just asking.”

There was a second of silence. You had a mad look on your face and Sharky could tell something was up.

“Can I maybe come in?” 

You stepped aside with a quiet ‘sorry’.

“You want anything?” You asked.

“Just you.” He smirked as he hung his coat. You rolled your eyes.

“Jeez what’s wrong?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Nothings wrong!” You exclaimed, a little louder than you intended to.

He stared with disbelief. He didn’t say a word.

“What?” You leaned forward, feeling stupid under his gaze, which made you even more mad.

“Wha- Okay, is there anything you want to tell me?” He avoided the question that previously got a surprising reaction out of you.

“No?” You replied bitterly.

“Should I go? I don’t really feel welcomed right now.”

“Maybe you should.” You sighed. You didn’t mean that. You really didn’t.

Sharky’s face dropped. He knew he asked the question, but he didn’t think that he would hear what he heard.

“Are you for real?” He raised his eyebrows.

You shrugged.

He scoffed and laughed, looking up and shaking his head “Unbelievable.”

You observed, leaning on the wall with your shoulder and your arms crossed.

“Un-fucking-believeable.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You didn’t know if you could handle a fight right now.

“You are so,” he paused, trying to think of the right words “So… annoying.”

“What?” 

“Look, I know you probably had a hard day yeah? And whatever the fuck happened, happened. But if you ask me to come over you should at least tell me! Why am I always here to support you, yet I still get treated like shit most of the time.”

“Sharky I-”

“No you know what,” he raised his hands up “You have a problem. Like some serious issues.”

Your heart dropped. Never in your life have you ever heard Sharky talk to you or to anyone like this. He was pissed. Something you didn’t know Sharky was capable of.

“How the fuck do you expect me to help you through a hard time when you don’t tell me shit?” He whispered.

“I-”

“And when do I finally get the feeling of fulfillment that the relationship I’m in isn’t one-sided? Why are you so abnormally cold all the time? I spend so much time, so much effort to make you feel good, to make you feel loved. Will I ever get that? Will I ever experience that feeling from you? From fucking anyone?”

You opened your mouth to say something, but tears filled your eyes and your throat tightened.

“Oh and you’re gonna cry?” He laughed “YOU!?”

You sniffed and quickly wiped your eyes.

“Great. Amazing. Just great. You know what? I will leave. And I’ll leave leave cause I’m tired. Tired of wasting my energy on you.”

“I didn’t know I was such a burden,” you said in a raspy voice “Didn’t know it took that much effort to love me.”

“Yeah. It fucking does.” He grabbed his coat.

“Fuck you.” The sentence came out more like a question, rather than a confident statement.

“Yeah.” He looked at you with the saddest eyes. The most heart wrenching eyes. Eyes that spoke more than his mean words.

“Sharky, I’m sorry.” You said as if your instincts kicked in and your brain suddenly started working.

“Save it. I dont care how sorry you are. Bye. Have a nice life. And good luck tryna find someone who’ll deal with your bullshit the way I did.” He turned around and slammed the door.

You bit your thumb, sliding down against the wall to the floor.

You weren’t crying or sobbing.

In fact you didn’t make a single noise.

You just stayed there.

———————————————————————

[mxchxelschmidt]

-a/n- this is the barista!reader mall security!mike I was talking about. There will probably multiple parts if it’s enjoyed enough. I may cross post to ao3 at some point. It’s not proof read so bear with me.

Mike hadn’t been working at the mall long when he first came up to the coffee shop you worked at. You were only working there because the last job you had didn’t line out exactly how you wanted it to. Waitressing was different than coffee. Waitressing was more taxing mentally for you. The people getting angry with your service and then tipping you terribly instead of speaking up was annoying and you hated your income depending on how much of a people pleaser you were.

His coffee order was simple, black americano. Espresso and water. Personally you would take the espresso shots over the watered down version. The man before you looked like he needed the coffee. His eyes had dark bags under them. His hair was messy, as if he rolled out of bed to come to work. You could admire that. You had your fair share of days that required you to roll out of bed early with no regards to how you looked to come get the shop open in time for customers to have morning coffee. In fact you’d just had one of those days not too long ago.

He was wearing his security uniform, black dress pants and the long sleeve grey button up adorned with a security badge. It was tucked into his pants and secured with a black belt. His radio at his hip ready to take any of the very important calls about a teenage shoplifting from hot topic.

“Black coffee? You don’t want to sweeten it a little?” You ask half playful, half serious, because coffee on its own was just bitter to you. There wasn’t much enjoyment in it.

He kind of makes eye contact with you but he seems distracted. Focused on something else. Which is fine, most of your customers are distracted by the turmoil of their own life. They don’t care much to talk to the “barista”. This guy should be no different. Something about him draws you in though, makes you want to know more.

“Yeah. Not really a fan of coffee, just really tired today I guess.” He says almost sounding interested in talking to you but there’s something missing in the way he speaks. Something far off and distant. He’s more distracted than your usual customers, like he’s not here, far off in another world, focused on anything but what’s going on around him.

You shrug and go to pour the shots focusing on that instead of the stranger that’s only half there in front of you. Once his coffee is made you take it to the pickup counter and call out his name, “Americano for Mike.”

You start saying that every day. He keeps coming back and you’re not sure why. He still looks just as tired as each day passes. You grow to admire the look. He’s messy but he’s also pretty and that’s enough to keep starting small conversations with this stranger.

He’s ordered coffee from you a dozen or so times by now. Your coworkers begin to notice he isn’t coming to the coffee stand on the days you aren’t working, and so the teasing begins.

One of the next times he’s there you hear your male coworker call out, “Hi Mike!” And you cringe inwardly at his goofiness.

Mike tips his head to the side and you can’t help but compare him mentally to a puppy. You bite back a laugh and shrug, “What can I say, you must be a regular now Mike. You want that americano again?”

He’s less distant the more he comes to the coffee stand. He shakes his head and leans against the counter, “I can’t lie, as much as I’d rather not spend the extra money to make it taste good, I don’t think I can stomach anymore black coffee.”

You smile, you knew it would only be a matter of time before he gave up the black coffee charade. You pick up a cup and your pen looking at him, “Do you know what you’d like instead?”

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and shrugs before shaking his head, “Mmm… No. I was hoping maybe you had some suggestions?”

You can’t help the grin that tugs at your lips and you write his name on the cup. He pulls out his cash to pay you, holding it out across the counter and you shake your head at him, “On the house for your first try.” you give him a playful wink and walk away to start making his drink. This time it’s similar to what he’s gotten in the past. You pour two shots of espresso. And put them in the cup. You steam milk with a bit of caramel flavored syrup and layer it on top of the espresso shots. When you’re finished adding a caramel drizzle to the drink you walk it over to the pickup counter and and hold it out to him instead of placing it on the counter.

He walks up and does that thing where he tilts his head curiously again and you can’t help but feel a little twinge in your chest at his cuteness. You can’t muster up the courage to say anything but, “You’re going to want to stir it before you drink it. That way it tastes better.”

He gives you a nod and a hint of a smile before taking the cup, “Thanks, I appreciate it. Sleep has been rough to come by recently. I think the coffee helps.”

You give him a small laugh and a nod, “Coffee is the sleep deprived persons best friend. Gotta make sure you’re awake enough to chase those shoplifters down.”

Maybe it’s the way that he holds the cup up to you in cheers way before walking away. Maybe it’s the fact that you know nothing about him. Maybe you’ve got a crush on the mysterious security guard that keeps coming to get coffee from you.

When you leave from your shift that day you notice Mike sitting on a bench by the exit and he has a cell phone pressed up against his ear. He’s got a look on his face that reads as mildly annoyed and very pissed off. You can faintly hear the words, “No I get it, but I just don’t have any one else to go to to watch her. I can’t leave work I have to be here for the whole shift. There’s no one to cover me.” He says and rubs the bridge of his nose with two fingers, leaning back on the bench.

You can see the stress painted across his face. He looks like hes going to get emotional and you cant help but feel bad for him. It’s the way he’s pleading into the phone as if it really is his last option. You walk over to him as the conversation ends and his cell phone returns to his pocket. You look at him for a moment and he doesn’t seem to notice you, but you speak up anyways, “Hey, mike right?”

He looks up from his lap and his mouth is parted slightly like he’s caught off guard by your presence. Once again too wrapped up in his own lifes turmoil to notice the world around him. He nods, lips still parted slightly before he fixes his slack jawed appearance and stands, “Yeah Mike,”

“Black Americano guy, that is until today,” You say with a smile. “By the way how was your drink? It’s what I suggest to most non coffee drinkers that want it to taste half decent.”

He gives you half a smile which is more than you’ve gotten in the entirety of your interactions. Mike seems to be coming back to this plane of existence, considering hes giving you the time of day, “It was good actually, much better than what I have been drinking.”

You’re not sure how to segue into it but you’re curious about the heated phone call you had so you pluck up the courage to say it, “Trouble with the missus?” You ask half sarcastically. Maybe you’re overstepping your boundaries but it’s too late now, you’ve already brought it up.

He looks confused for a moment and then looks down at himself as if he’s looking for a hint to what you’re talking about. He then looks back at you and here comes that half smile again, “Oh no just babysitter troubles. My sister isn’t old enough to be at home alone and her babysitter just called to tell me that she can’t watch her tomorrow. Some family emergency or something. I don’t know.” He rubs his hands on his pants nervously and shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

“You work tomorrow though don’t you? That’s tough,” You say and cross your arms thoughtfully.

“Yeah, now I’m kind of just shit out of luck. I don’t really have a back up since that was my backup.” He says and rubs a hand on the back of his neck sheepishly. His face gets that far off look again like he can’t get his mind off of the amalgamation of problems that is his life.

You tap your foot once, then twice, a thoughtful look on your face and your lips tighten into a line before you finally speak up, “I don’t work tomorrow.” you blurt out. He looks at you with a confused look on his face like he doesn’t know why youve brought it up and then you see the lightbulb, “I have babysitting experience too, so I mean if you need someone to step up, I’m your girl” you say with a smile.

He looks like he’s taken aback by your kindness. By the wear and tear of this mans existence you can tell he hasn’t had much kindness in his life. He finally speaks up moments later, “Really?” he’s not sure if this is real or if he’s daydreaming it but it’s the best chance he’s got at not losing this job he so desperately needs to support him and his sister, “That would be amazing I don’t know how I could thank you enough. She’s a really easy going kid she’s just quiet.” he says and feels the hope building in his chest.

You smile at him and nod, “Sounds great. I think I can handle that.”

He digs around in his pocket for a moment and pulls out a small notepad and a pen usually used for taking down descriptions of criminals in the mall but this time he uses it to scribble his address down for you. He rips the page out of his notebook and hands it over to you. There’s a phone number accompanying the address and you assume it’s his. “There’s my address, if you could be there at 8am that would be great. She’s usually had breakfast by that time so it will just be lunch and dinner in terms of cooking. I’d have to pay you on payday. I’m a little tight on funds until then.” He says sheepishly.

This is the most Mike has ever spoken to you and you can tell how much he cares for his sister. You finally know what’s going through his head when he is ordering coffee and seems like he’s a million miles away.

You nod dutifully and smile at him “You got it Mike, I’ll see you bright and early.”

He smiles back, it’s not half this time, it’s a full smile. Seeing it break past that rough and tough exterior is nice. He has a nice smile.

“Thank you again.” He says and suddenly theres a call over his radio for a blonde teenage girl inside wet seal stuffing clothes in her purse and he’s off. Waving goodbye to you before turning on his heel and jogging in the direction of the store he was called to.

You walk to the parking garage with that little slip of paper tucked into your pocket. You get in your little beater car and head home actually excited for a change in your weekly routine. You’re excited to get to know more about him, even if it involves babysitting his younger sister.

[legacygirlingreen]

Late Nights on Pabu

Pairing: Tech x F!Reader

Summary: Continuation of the little SFW oneshot I posted earlier but this one is much less... safe... hehe. Can be read on its own though... Also editing is for those with time so apologizes, will be going back later to edit.

no use of Y/N (you're welcome)

Warnings: FERAL, NSFW, SMUT, BREEDING, MINORS GET LOST, talks of impregnation, birth control mentions, yeah...

Word Count: 6k

MASTERLIST

It had been several rotations since the early morning in which the most wonderful man in the whole galaxy admitted he’d wanted something more with you. Since you both had discussed what that may look like. How it would alter your lifestyle.

  Tech had come acknowledging the things you hadn’t even thought of. That he’d help in the early hours when you needed rest. All the things he’d have Phee help track down to make life easier. The research he’d done on bottle feeding versus breast feeding. His understanding of what toddler behavior was like and how to best combat the “terrible twos” as so many called it. In essence: he’d shown that he was more than prepared on paper with the amount of thinking he’d done on the subject. 

  He always left the decision in your court. After all, you would be the one to sacrifice so much of your bodily autonomy in order to create a new life. You would be the one to carry them, and then deal with the shift in mindset when they were born. That was no small task. Especially for Tech, given he was born out of a test tube and had no idea what it meant to come into this world kicking and screaming from the safety of a mother. 

  And despite all this, you couldn’t help it. The way he smiled at you when you were assisting with small children on the island.  When Omega climbed up on your lap demanding braids in her growing blonde hair, he always got that wide eyed gaze. When it came time to finally send the last of the stolen children from Tantis home, you’d been so encouraging for their journey, in a way he mirrored to the joyful parents. It all had come to a tipping point this morning.

  . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

  Rinsing off your morning swim with Tech sometimes was just as enjoyable as actually being out there by yourself in the ocean. The serene silence as the water fell overhead, taking time to brush stray sand off each other's skin or run a confident hand through each other's drenched hair as you massaged the soap into the strands, feeling the peace you’d worked so hard to achieve. 

  Tech had been a very confident man from the first moment he took that plunge to make you his. Prior to that, he gave hardly any inclination that he’d felt anything more than just a squadmate. But once he knew what the feeling was - full hearted ardent emotions that he couldn’t explain - he took that leap in showing that he cared. And after that, he’d done so over and over again without embarrassment, without wavering, and without stopping. 

  “We should get out,” he hummed against your hairline, as you’d both been soaking up the lukewarm water together under its small circumference of a stream. His hands had remained wound against the skin of your upper back while the other cradled your head to his chest.

  Pulling back slightly you caught the view of your name along his pectoral, smiling as you rose on your toes to kiss the skin affectionately as you nodded. “How’s the repairs to lower Pabu and the new wall coming along?” you ask as he turns around and waives a hand to shut off the water. You reached a hand out to grab the towels you’d placed on the hooks near the refresher alcove, passing him one. 

  “On course to finish along the schedule which I set out for myself. Not much to report beyond that, as you have already heard me speak at length about specifications,” he mentioned before tossing the towel over his head, running it over his hair to remove the excess water. 

  When Tech removed the towel, you saw such a simple glimpse at the wonderful man before you. Full relaxed, hair already resuming its slight wavy pattern and displaying those indicators of time in the sun. His skin was decorated with waterdrops and painted a lovely shade of gold. Eyes shining brighter than they had in years, full of all the longing you’d come to know. He was always so handsome, and although you’d seen this view many, many times at this point, something about the way the light coming through the bathroom window hit him this day in particular created that stirring within. The only thought coming to your mind is one that surprised you. Stole your breath away as you continue the unabashed staring at him, even if you weren’t willing to admit it to yourself just yet.

  “Something wrong?” he asked, winding the towel over his nakedness, tucking it as he turned to step out onto the cool tile floor. 

  “Not at all,” you hum, reaching for the goggles along the counter, grabbing the cloth he always kept to clean the lenses and as you proceeded to start the task for him. He didn’t say anything, allowing you to do so as he began tackling the early morning stubble that he absolutely despised. Even if all his other brothers allowed their facial hair to grow once they’d settled on the island, he couldn’t stand the way it felt, shaving it each morning. 

  Once you were finished, you looked at him in the mirror. Tech leaned his torso over the small sink, hips flushed with the counter as he turned his face from side to side, carefully examining the foam across his cheeks, bringing the cool metal razor over the skin in even strokes. His dark eyes flashed to your own in the reflection for a moment as his eyebrow raised. Whipping off the razor for a moment he proposed an observation, “Your behavior is quite unusual this morning Angel,” he pointed out before resuming his task. 

  Instead of replying you stepped forward, setting the goggles along the counter and reaching for his hips, turning him when you knew he’d removed the sharp object from near his face to remove the small hairs and foam from it once more. Taking it from his hands with a careful flourish of fingers, he didn’t need to be told what to do, as the routine was second nature at this point. And regardless of how inefficient it was time wise for you to do it for him - as Tech’s practiced hands were much faster than yours - he selfishly indulged in the attention. 

  Tipping his face upward so you could scrape it along that pesky patch of hair that always grew below his bottom lip in the center, Tech didn’t speak as he allowed you to finish for him. With the final stroke along his jaw, you turned the water on in the sink. Grabbing a hairbrush you started to carefully undo the knots while, he turned to rinse away any stray foam from his skin before grabbing that ornate bottle of aftershave oil you’d gotten for lifeday the previous year. 

  Finally finishing, his large hands grabbed your towel covered waist without a word, pulling you between him and the counter so he could look at you in the mirror while you continued running the bristles of the brush through your hair. Eventually when it came time to do the back of your head, similarly to how you gently stole his razor, he slipped the brush from your grasp and began towards the ends of the strands with a practiced hand. 

  There was something so wonderful about the domestic intimacy you both had developed with time. Acts of service for the other, without a word necessary to explain them, as you both made it a goal to help one another prepare for the day by assisting with hygiene. It always felt amazing having him brush out your hair, eyes closing at the electrified nerve endings along your nape while his hands gently removed the knots. 

  He finished rather quickly, setting the brush along the counter near his neglected razor blade, as your eyes cracked open once more, seeing the smiling face of the retired soldier behind you. Arms wrapping around your sides as his tall frame leaned down to rest his chin along your shoulder, as you both continued to stare at the reflection in the mirror. 

  It was the vision of two people who deeply loved one another. Who’d sacrificed so much for each other. Who’d found affection in the midst of an uncertain time and come out of it on the other side with more care than imaginable. It was the demonstration of what loving someone without reservations looked like. A couple of strong individuals who finally laid down the weapons to be at peace. Almost perfect. 

  Suddenly that flash from before came to your mind, and you could no longer deny what it is you’d thought when looking at the stunning man next to you. Despite how wonderful things were, something was missing. Something you hadn’t noticed before, being consumed by the love for Tech and your oddly thrown together family of his siblings.  Perhaps it had been there all along, waiting for the right moment to make itself known. Or maybe it was something new, that was only born of the exact sliver in time it would be ready. 

  But the way his hands expertly defied the towel, seeking the warmth of your skin only further intensified the thought. His grasp settling on your stomach as you both basked in the morning light of the bathroom, you pieced together that feeling, finally acknowledging it after the unknown amount of time it had been with your mind, body and soul. 

  The only thing missing from this moment was Tech’s warm hands over your swollen belly as you both felt those glorious flutters of a new life. 

  . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 

  That moment had ended soon after it began, with Tech slipping away to work, blissfully unaware that you had finally come to the conclusion that you were both on the same page about a future. The walk to the home the others stayed at was filled with a nervousness you hadn’t anticipated. The knock, met with the wide smile of Omega, who never failed to make you feel loved and appreciated as she hugged you as if she hadn’t seen you the day before.  

  “Is there any way I could see AZI?” you ask her once you are ushered inside, the boys all off doing whatever the islanders put them to work doing, leaving her with Lyana’s company.  

  “Are you sick? Hurt?” Omega asked, giving you that glance over with the same brown eyes you’d come to love in her brother. 

  “No, I just need to consult him about the implant I told you about, as it likely is on its last bit of life and I’d like to know if I need to find a replacement,” you mention hoping to avoid an interrogation from the teen. It wasn’t a total lie, but you weren’t about to explain to her that you were here to remove the device. Something about that bordered on too much information. She was now fully aware what it meant to be a woman, coming to you for advice on occasion with how to handle it, as Lyana’s mother was gone. Both girls seeking you out from time to time as one of the only fellow females decently close to their age. 

  “You are sure that there’s nothing wrong?” she pressed and you nodded, reassuring smile overtaking your features as Lyana returned with the droid, who promptly greeted you. Omega encouraged you to use her room for privacy and when the door shut, leaving you with the medical droid they’d stolen from the ruins of Kamino, you looked at his large mechanical eyes.

  “If you wish to lay down so that I may begin scans,” his oddly animated voice came through and you did as he asked. 

  Omega’s bed was expertly made, covers pulled tight as you laid down and watched as AZI scanned your body to provide updates since the last time he’d done so. He was a very efficient droid, always maintaining a better bedside manor than even some doctors provided. Explaining you needed to increase your intake of potassium, drink a bit more water during the day and that he’d noticed you were halfway through the womanly cycle. 

  There was something much more pleasant about dealing with a droid who lacked opinions upon your reproductive care. Any human you’d seen before, often warning you to do this or avoid that, and speculate on if you should or should not have children. With AZI, there was a comfort in knowing he would simply do as you asked, offer medical advice and nothing more. 

  He’d confirmed what you’d already known of your own body, and despite its more rushed nature, you knew that tonight you’d explain everything to Tech once he got home. This would leave you with plenty of time to think of a way to do so. 

Omega didn’t comment on the small patch left along the inside of your bicep as you re entered the kitchen where both girls were weaving bracelets. 

  “Are you girls up for a trip to the market area? It's been a while since I bought a new dress and I want to look nice…” you’d mischievously asked as they both jumped from the seat, eager to follow you on your quest. 

  . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

  Tech shucked his boots off outside the home, as the door slid open. You weren’t in the living space, nor the kitchen, but he could tell you’d cooked as the smell lingered. Sliding off the belt buckle with his tools, he set them down on that table you designated for his supplies as he allowed his mind to slowly run its course on plans for the following day. There was something meditative about removing the articles associated with work each evening, in order to return to one’s domestic life. 

  Taking those calculated steps out onto the balcony, he saw you, in a garment he’d never seen before. The simple flowing teal material framing your body in all the right places while flowing out in others. He was used to seeing you now in a much more feminine appearance, and it always brought him delight, but the addition of flowers woven into your hair made him pause in the entryway to the patio. 

  Eyes roaming the setup before you. A light meal, consisting of his favorite fish, most likely caught by Wrecker. A bottle of that wine he really enjoyed atop a bucket of ice. Some fresh fruits ready to be consumed. Soft music playing from the holodevice he’d retired long ago when he obtained a new one. 

  “What’s all this?” he asked, finally stepping out of the house, onto the porch. Recalling the date, he knew there wasn’t an anniversary he missed, nor an impending holiday to be concerned over. This was totally unexpected, and a break from normal routine. 

  “I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate all the hard work you’ve been doing for Pabu,” you tell him kindly, offering a hand for him once he came closer. In doing so, he pulled you to stand next to him, dropping the sweetest kiss to your cheek as his arms wound your frame and then pulling away. 

  “This is new,” he pointed out, gesturing to the dress as you smiled, hands wiping over the material. 

  “Omega and Lyana helped pick it,” you confirm with a smile, giving him a displayful turn, allowing him to watch the material pick up slightly with the spin before settling again. 

  “Radiant,” he commented, noticing the few pieces of jewelry you’d donned. Not uncommon to see the many friendship bracelets and necklaces Omega would weave for everyone along your wrist, a metal bangle along your bicep catching his observant gaze. He didn’t comment on it, assuming it had been gifted to you by the girls in your womanly bonding time while he worked. “Shall we enjoy the kind labor you’ve put into this evening?” Tech asked and you nodded, grabbing the empty wine glasses, prepared to indulge in the evening's early domestic bliss before unveiling the depth of the surprises you had in store for the handsome engineer you very fortunately called your own. 

  . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

  After a relaxing evening of eating, drinking, slow dancing to the sound of the waves and enjoying the sunset, you both found yourselves tucked away in a chair facing the moonlight as Pabu wound down for the night. The wind rustled Tech’s hair as you finished off the wine in your glass and turned to face him. 

  He’d removed his glasses long ago, allowing you to watch the golden light shine upon their brilliance while you’d both danced. Now closed as he simply enjoyed the proximity of your body in his lap as the ambience of your home calmed his racing mind. 

  “Tech?” you softly whispered his name as his eyes cracked open, looking at your moonlit softened features with curiosity. He hadn’t pressed, but all evening you seemed to stare at him with the same longing he had noted that morning. Pair that with the extra effort to curate the perfect night alone together, he was almost suspicious of what was going on. That didn’t stop his mind from wandering to a place where he questioned what ulterior motive lurked beneath that beautiful dress of yours. 

  He responded with your name as you summoned the courage to explain your actions, yet something about the nature of the depth they held stalled you from doing so. Was this how nervous he’d been when he’d expressed the thought to you that morning? Luckily, Tech was an expert in the way of your behaviors, so he carefully lifted a hand to cup the side of your cheek as he asked. 

  “Not that I am ungrateful, and believe me when I say that I am quantifiably appreciative for all you’ve done, but might I ask what has brought on this increased staring and effort?” he calmly questioned, his gaze unwavering, matching his tone. The thumb along the hand holding your face, tracing ever so lightly along the skin as you sighed. 

  Uncertainty shaking for a moment, as you thought that there was no cause for concern. The likelihood he’d change his mind is very minimal. He wouldn’t outright reject the idea, as you knew it initially had been his.  But that didn’t stop the worry if either of those had happened since you last spoke of it that morning in the ocean together with the lapping waves of water, in which he detailed the amount of energy he’d put into the concept on his end. 

  Most of the doubt stemming from worry that he’d be angry you’d gone and removed the implant without consulting him. Maybe he would’ve wanted to be a part of the process. What if he wanted kids but didn’t want them now? What if-

  “Talk to me,” he encouraged as you blinked rapidly, eyes no longer staring at the waving flowers on the balcony as they snapped back to his concerned gaze. 

  Deciding it was now or never you decided to remove the golden bangle that you’d borrowed from Lyana who insisted that it matched the dress perfectly. Setting it along the table you instead grabbed his hand from where it rested along your knee, putting it on the small patch still remaining from AZI earlier that day. 

  You could almost see the cogs turning in Tech’s mind as he slowly pieced it together. The longing stares. The sweet moments. The effort tonight. The new dress. The odd bracelet. The small wound on your arm at exactly the same place your implant-

  “Do you wish to procreate?” he asked, lacking all ounce of romanticism, and yet something within the direct nature you loved so dearly about him made you squirm in his lap. His eyes were desperately staring into your own as his fingertips traced over the bandage. 

  “That’s one way to put it Tech,” you playfully scoffed. 

  “You did not answer my question,” he demanded, tone shifting slightly as did his grip on your arm. 

  “I just,” you trailed off, eyes wandering down to the flowing material of the dress before finding the brilliance of the moonlight on the water to be more comforting in the moment. “I have just been thinking about what you said and it just sort of hit me. I know it's sudden, and I know I likely should’ve spoken to you before I went and had AZI remove the implant, but I found myself certain for the first time that this was something I wanted. That I want it. With you. Not years from now. But in this moment it felt right,” you admit to him. Watching as his mind seemed to absorb the confession, you felt his grip loosen ever so slightly. 

  “What changed your mind?” He probed, genuine curiosity overtaking his handsome features as a small smile worked along his plush lips. 

  “Can I be honest and say I am not really certain,” you ask as he chuckles, accepting your candor. 

  “Let me rephrase my question then: What moment are you referring to as having clarity on the matter?” Tech inquired, nose delicately tracing the skin of your jaw as you shuttered at the soft intimacy of the act. 

  “This morning,” you say quietly, cheeks flushing as you recall how sweetly he’d stared at you in the early light. 

  “I do not recall anything particularly unique about this morning beyond your additional staring,” he commented and you shook your head. 

  “That is why I told you that I hadn’t really been able to explain it. I just woke up feeling as if things were finally right in that area. I found myself hyper aware of all your touches or expressions and they all seemed to point to that conclusion. Then you held me in the mirror and I just thought how happy I was. How content I felt. And despite all that…” you trail off, looking up at him through thick lashes as you whispered, “I still felt that we were missing something. Something here.” You take his hand and set it on the flat of your stomach. 

  “And you are positive this isn’t a passing feeling? I don't want you to feel pressured since I was the one who initially proposed such an idea,” he sought confirmation as you nodded. 

  “I am certain. This morning wasn’t the first time I have thought about this. More or less it was the realization that I am ready. I want to take this step with you Tech,” you tell him and that’s all he needed, to finally lose the resolve. Standing as he gripped your body tightly to his own, nearly tripping as he ran through the home to the bedroom with a speed you hadn’t anticipated. Giggles erupting from the back of your throat at his desperation.  Then you were weightless as he tossed you onto the shared bed. 

  Shock in your eyes as you watched him quickly shedding the clothes he had worn for the day. Soon he stood bare with an almost predatory glint in his eyes. You’d never seen him staring at you that way in all the time you’d known one another, but as he stepped closer, he once again shocked you. Grabbing your ankles in his worn hands, yanking you to the edge of the bed as he turned you enough to find the ties along the back of the dress and slide them to the floor. As the dress fell away his smirk only deepened when he realized you had forgone anything under it. 

  “Mhm this is quite a lovely surprise dear,” Tech said as he laid you out on the bed, gentleness returning as he’d gotten out his excitement in the quick rush to the bedroom. 

  “I thought you’d enjoy it,” you raise a hand, brushing but his carmel curls as everything slowed, his lips descending slowly upon your own as he held you to the bed, kissing your mouth, then your neck, and shoulders, finally reaching your stomach as he repeatedly did so in the spot you’d hopefully carry his child. 

  “I do,” he whispered against the skin below your naval as he once again crawled over your body, remembering the question he’d meant to ask earlier. “By chance, when you got this removed, did you find out where exactly within your reproductive cycle you are,” he asked. You had anticipated a more sensual tone, but the sudden shift to clinical nearly made you laugh out loud. 

  But then you remembered why you loved this man. Something about the way his mind worked was positively endearing. There was no beating around the bush when it came to Tech. He did not know the word subtlety. 

  “I think you’ll find tonight is right where we want to be…” you say, trying to express that you are currently being blessed by the gods of fertility in a way that is not overtly scientific and more romantic. 

  “Well, that is quite appropriate,” he states bluntly as you continue running a hand over his face and hand, questioning why that is. Your thumb catches the ever so slight stubble starting to grow over his cheekbone. You had always found it humorous just how quickly the pesky hairs returned to his cheeks and jaw. 

  “You ask why…” he says before lowering his mouth to your ear, purring as he nips the lobe for a moment to pull away and stare down at you as he continues the husky whisper “my dear it's only natural for a man to want that…” he claimed as those flutters in your stomach turned into a storm. 

  You knew it was playing with fire, but you were curious what Tech would do if you pressed him on the matter, so you asked, “For a man to want what exactly..?” as he slid a hand down behind the small of your back, tightening his hold like a coiled python ready to strike. 

  “To fulfill that need to see the woman he loves glowing and full of his offspring…” he explained as if it was the most simple explanation in the world. You’d never heard Tech using this tone before. It bordered somewhere along domineering and straightforward in that unique confidence he always had. It also brought about a dampness between your thighs and an aching that would soon need to be addressed. 

  “You said that you were certain this morning… in front of the mirror?” he questioned after a moment and you nodded, unsure why he was bringing it back up now that you were both naked, and from what you could gather based on the way he was throbbing against you, ready to start. 

  You almost didn’t hear the way he huffed out, “come here” as his arms tightened, lifting you up from the bed. Gripping along his shoulders, the man’s still muscular frame carried you with ease towards the bathroom, not even bothering to turn on the light as the moon cast enough of a glow in the atmosphere it perfectly mirrored the morning with a more hazy view of night. 

  “What are you doing?” you questioned as he set you down in front of the counter, carefully turning you around without a word. 

  Soon it clicked. He was recreating this morning, except this time he would be the one getting to indulge in your momentary fantasy. His shifting grip found your abdomen as his long fingers trailed along the flat below your naval without a word, kisses beginning to nip along your shoulder blades. 

  “Tell me what you thought this morning when I held you right here,” he demanded playfully, lips caressing the skin of your nape as he glanced into the mirror over your shoulder, awaiting a response. Thighs tightening together, attempting to bring some relief to your aching core, you sucked in a breath.  

  “Won’t you be my good girl and tell me…” he chuckled as one of his fingers pushed the clamp of your thighs apart, dexterous finger dipping into your warmth as you bit your lip to contain the noise threatening to spill out at the contact of his fingertips near your opening. The weight in the air provided more preparation than you thought possible, you knew that you were already acclimated to take him, but Tech wanted to tease the thought out of you it seemed… 

  “Darling… you know that you shall have whatever vision your beautiful mind dreamt up here if you simply indulge me,” he explained it all so simply, finger breaching your walls as he sunk into the velvety walls that he soon planned to paint with his seed. 

  Adding to the now burning desire to have him continue was the pressing against your back, warning of the angry and leaking head of his cock, desperate to get inside. Tech rocked ever so gently as he tightened his grip on your stomach while your locked stares looked at one another in the mirror. While unexpected, this position was so much more enrapturing than what you thought this would be like.

  You’d imagined him leaning over you, whispering the sweet words he always had when he made love to you. Instead, he was here poised like an animal ready to fulfill his body’s main desire. Tech hardly seemed like a man who’d fall for such feral whims, but yet here you were pressed between the cool stone counter and his warmth as he waited for you to explain yourself. 

  “I thought about us standing here in the morning, exactly as we are now, but-” you began, feeling as his fingers retreated from your body and instead wrapped around his own cock, as he abruptly shifted apart your lower seam. Head of his cock now pressed right against your opening, he brought his slick covered hand up to tuck a strand of hair affectionately behind your ear as he cooed, “keep going…” against your ear with a gentle kiss to your temple. 

  “But your hands stretched over our growing child as we both felt them kick for the first time,” you say, eyes closing as you imagined it. Same place as you were right now. His hands would both be able to fit over the round of your belly instead of the flat he easily covered with one hand now. His warm brown eyes found yours in the mirror as you both felt those flutters together. It was perfect. 

  And then Tech suddenly brought you both one step closer to that reality with a snap of his hips, his cock finding its home with one harsh thrust.  

  Tech rarely made much noise when he was bringing you both to ecstasy together. His heavy breathing and occasional gasps being the extent of what he brought to the table beyond simply talking. But as he pushed inside of you the guttural groan that escaped from the back of his throat, echoing off the walls of the bathroom only intensified the heat you felt over every inch of your body. 

  His fingers laced in your own, resting against your naval as he leaned against the side of your head with his own, his nose finding that spot behind your ear where your perfume always sat.  The second he took to collect himself doing so much to aid in your pleasure, as you watched his always held together resolve melt away in the bathroom mirror. From the tight grip on your hand and the bathroom counter, to that gorgeous crease between his eyebrows - everything about watching him come undone within your body was perfect. 

  Soon he looked back up, seeing your wide eyes in the mirror as he pulled back enjoy to thrust back in with another groan, eye contact never straying. “You are perfect. Just like this. Made to-” he groaned once more as he felt your walls clench quickly and release him once more. “You were made to take me, Maker-” 

  “Tech, I-” your voice wobbled, eyes threatening to spill with tears from both the physical exertion and emotion lingering in the air. 

  “I’ve got you. Safe in my arms. We are safe. And when we finally have- Kriff!” Tech never swore. Found it highly unnecessary. Hearing him do so now, balls deep inside of you caused you to clench involuntarily once more around him. As if your body was saying how much you wanted his spill. 

  Abandoning his train of thought entirely, Tech reached forward, tugging your jaw back as he pushed his lips onto yours, hips rutting with reclass abandon as his other hand held you up against his thrusts. Pulling back ever so slightly, he continued the pace. Sweat dripping down his temple as his mouth fell open and his eyes struggled to focus as his eyelids grew heavy under the weight of the mounting release he desperately sought with each push inside your heavenly body. 

  “Mine,” he gritted out between his white teeth and you realized exactly what he wanted. 

  “I’m all yours” you all but wailed as he grinned for a moment, hips no longer pistoning in a calculated pattern. No this was beyond that. This was simply a man on a mission. Body finally taking over as Tech felt his himself on that edge. 

  Desperate to drag you with him, he reached down to pinch your clitorous almost painfully between two fingers as he grunted in your ear, “soon everyone is going to know that you’re mine.” 

  That was all it took. 

  Screaming his name so loud the whole damn island must’ve heard you, as you clenched so harshly around his cock that he couldn’t stop it from bursting within your walls. You thought that release would’ve calmed this man, but you’d be wrong. 

  “That’s it, take it-” he hissed as his hips kept chanting forward with slight thrusts as if they would somehow aid his sperms journey into your womb. 

  Whispering his name gently, your legs started to wobble slightly from the intensity and he slowed enough to catch you, pinning you against the counter as he remained inside. His handle gently carding along your skin and in your hair as the praises suddenly began to spill from his lips. 

  “You did so well… so perfect… so beautiful… look at you… glowing in the moon light…” he punctuated each sweet phrase with a kiss somewhere along your skin and face as he continued to soften within your walls, eventually sliding out once your breathing returned to normal. 

  Replacing it with his fingers, he shoved the combined spill from the two of you back inside before it could leak out, humming against your neck with that serene expression you reconized every time his balls finally would be emptied. 

  Eyes cracking open behind you as he swayed gently, kissing your cheek once more before saying, “I’m not going to work tomorrow,” calmly he replied finally removing his hand from your leaking hole, plunging it into your mouth without warning as you sucked the mess from his hand without question. He’d done it before, forcing his messy fingers inside your mouth. You were quite acclimated with all the facets his oral fixation took.  

  “Huh?” you questioned his out of place comment, still sucking around his digits until they were clean, releasing them with a pop of your lips.

  “You and I are staying in this room all day…” he hummed out as he bent down to lift you into his arms with ease, carefully treading back into the bedroom and laying you back out on the bed. 

  “All day?” you teasingly questioned, leaning up on your elbows as he looked down at you from where he stood. 

  “Mhm, I’ve got important work to do,” he quipped, knees finding the edge of the covers as he gazed down at your blushing body. Sweat in your hair, cheeks flustered and dark khol eyeliner spilling down your cheeks. Seeing you so undone by just his first attempt alone had him growing hard once more. 

  “Oh really, and what would that be,” you teased as he lowered himself over your body, his twitching cock coming alive once again near your already shivering thighs. 

  “Perhaps you require a refresher…” the back of his hand carefully traced down the length of your body as he smirked at you. 

  “I’m all yours to remind,” you tell him, eyes fluttering shut as you prepare for the long night and day he’s likely going to indulge you with. 

  “You absolutely are,” he huskily whispers as he plunges into your womanhood without warning before grabbing your face in his comically large hand, pulling youre forehead to rest against his own. “Soon you’ll be mine in every way possible,” he lets you know with a groan, as you stare into the most beautiful brown eyes in the galaxy, ready for everything Tech’s brilliant mind can dream up to bring you both the depth of your shared desires. 

  Every way possible.

[double-vandammage]

Title: Rude Awakening

Word count: 2,573

Rating: 18+

Ship: Bret Hart x Shawn Michaels

Tags/Warnings: Enemies to lovers, Bret POV, Handjob, Blowjob, Alcohol

Also posted to my a03: aa_beatrix

Here is my first fanfic in probably 6 years. I'm so nervous about it, but I hope you Hartbreak shippers like it. I'm fairly new to this ship so please be gentle. 🥹 Thank you to the encouragement of my sis @taydaq, @imabillyami, @crxssjae, and @superkickme 😘

Let me know if anyone wants to be tagged in future fics, I do plan on writing more. 🫣

Bret sat silently by his motel window, watching the rain gently glide down the glass. What a shit day he had, it was only fitting the weather was also terrible. The promo he had just cut with Shawn weighed heavily on his mind. He was so tired of the little prick. Night after night he had to observe Shawn flamboyantly parade around the stage. Not only did he have to watch the annoying spectacle, but also endure the man occasionally shake his bare ass at the crowd. The fans ate it up and he couldn’t fathom why. They were close once, it seemed a lifetime away. Thunder cracked, startling him from his thoughts. The universe was telling him to relinquish any thoughts of Shawn for the rest of the evening. He didn’t want Shawn in his head more than was required, especially while he was alone in his motel room. Bret made his way to the bed, climbing under the covers and slowly he drifted to sleep.  

Abruptly there was an aggressive and continuous rap at his door. Bret was barely able to open his eyes as he dazedly glanced at the bedside clock. The time read 2:00AM. “Who the fuck-?” he grunted as the knocking became louder. He whipped the blanket from his body while quickly swinging his legs over the mattress. “I’m coming dammit.” he spat, stumbling to the door in his sleepy stupor. He put his eye to the peephole. “Jesus Christ…” none other than a Heartbreak Kid disruption. “Hey! Big daddy cool! Open up big sexy!” Shawn half yelled, half giggled. Bret opened the door, “wrong room shithead. Some of us are trying to sleep.” Shawn was drenched. He had clearly spent some time in the rain. “Whoa.” Shawn raised both hands up in defense. “This isn’t Kevin’s room?” Bret made a show of moving his hands up and down his own frame, “clearly it isn’t you asshole, what are you drunk?” Shawn put his index finger and thumb together, “Mmmm…maybe just a pinch.” 

Rolling his eyes, Bret took in Shawn’s appearance. He was soaked, so much so he had created a pool of moisture on the motel floor. He was a mess. “Do you know which room Kevin is in?” he asked, not wanting Shawn to be his problem this early in the morning. “Hmmm…well I thought this was his room…so I guess…no.” he said with his signature smile, chuckling to himself. “You wouldn’t mind if I bunked here tonight, eh Hitman?” Shawn asked while running a hand through his wet hair. Bret thought this must be some cruel joke the universe was playing on him. The last thing he wanted in his room was a drunk wet dog named Shawn Michaels, but he couldn’t let him wander aimlessly up and down the halls, slamming on random doors, and calling for big sexy. 

Bret crossed his arms, “shit. Fine. Do not drip on anything.” Shawn grinned, “Thanks Hitman, you’re the best there is and ever will be.” he said, pushing Bret to the side and slapping him on the arm. Bret closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “The bathroom is to the left, I can get you something to change into.” He closed the door and turned to find Shawn already on the bed. “Are you fucking kidding me Michaels? You’re super fucking soaked. Get off the bed, now.” Shawn rose, propping himself on his elbows. “Oh man…I am?” he asked, real concern in his voice. “Uh, yeah. Get up.” Bret demanded. Shawn moved almost intentionally slow, the blankets getting more and more saturated. 

“Dammit Shawn. Get your ass to the bathroom.” he said, grabbing Shawn’s arm, shoving him towards the open doorway. “Alright, alright. Ya don’t gotta be so touchy.” Shawn almost immediately began stripping off his flashy costume. He shook off his vest and began removing those hideous chaps he insisted on wearing. He kicked off his boots next and in doing so Shawn had noticed Bret leaning against the door frame observing. Bret in an instant knew exactly what he was about to do. Shawn turned, his back facing him and commenced shimmying his tights down to wiggle his ass at him. “Like what ya see Hitman?” he taunted. Bret kept his face stoic, but could feel his cheeks beginning to flush. “Stop that shit and just get cleaned up would you?” he urged moving away. Shawn smirked, pulling his tights completely off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”  

Bret began pulling the blankets and sheets off the bed, discarding them onto the floor. He could hear the water start to run and eventually steam wafted outside the door. He pulled out a plain white t-shirt and gray sweats from his suitcase for Shawn to wear. Bret climbed back into the bed to try and get some more sleep before they had to be on the road again. The shower stopped and after a few minutes, he felt the empty side of the mattress shift. “Absolutely not boytoy.” he murmured. “Oh come on Bret, there’s not even a couch in here.” Shawn whined. “Not my problem. This is already obnoxious without having dry blankets, you are not sleeping up here.” Shawn in a child-like tantrum, huffed off the bed and onto the floor with one of the pillows. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

Outside rain still poured and thunder intermittently boomed, a particularly loud burst was enough to rattle Bret awake again. The clock registered at 5:00AM. He could hear Shawn’s slow and steady breathing, surprised Shawn didn’t also wake. Rolling to the opposite side of the bed, Bret peered over. Shawn was lying on his side facing him. Long blonde hair fell down around his shoulder and pillow. His bangs draped over his eyes. Shawn was beautiful, anyone could see that. Bret found his eyes had lingered, observing the white t-shirt he let the man borrow had slightly uplifted, revealing a small glimpse of Shawn’s tanned stomach. Quickly he averted his gaze and rolled back over. Squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the sounds outside in an attempt to stifle an unresolved hunger he had no business feeling towards the Heartbreak Kid.

Unable to rest, he again got out of bed to reside by the window in the lone chair. He needed air. He opened the window just enough to feel the cool misting of rain against his face. Minutes later he heard Shawn stirring, a small groan escaping from him as he stretched. Shawn sat upright, dreamily looking at Bret. “Can’t sleep Hitman?” he mumbled. Bret ignored him, keeping his view to the window. “I gotta take a leak.” Shawn yawned as he shuffled towards the bathroom. Bret listened as Shawn fumbled around in the dark, hearing the toilet flush and sink run. He came out in the middle of another yawn, “Fuck me, I’m gonna be sore. You think people will believe me when I say I’m sore after spending the night in the Hitman’s room?” he laughed. “Don’t even joke about that shit Shawn.” Bret spat. “I’ll kick you out right now, don’t test me.”

Shawn cautiously made his way to stand in front of him. “Come on, would it be so terrible? Maybe this is exactly what you and I need.” Shawn said, reaching out a hand to brush the inky strands of hair from Bret’s face. Bret caught his wrist, stopping him. “Don’t.” Shawn only invaded his space more, moving his leg to part Bret’s thighs. His free hand tilted Bret’s chin upward so he could meet his stare. “I know you look at me. Just like I knew you were looking at me over there.” he said, nodding his head in the direction of the bed. Bret jerked his head away irritated, but Shawn hadn’t released his grip. Shawn lowered himself, his mouth inches from his ear, “I like it when you look at me…”.

Bret felt many things for Shawn Michaels. Desire he could always snuff out, now he wasn’t so sure. Shawn closed the space between them, placing his lips to Bret’s temple. Bret involuntarily let go of Shawn’s wrist, finding he was nuzzling into Shawn as he continued to trail light kisses around the side of his face. “Touch me Bret…” Shawn sighed into him. Bret moved his hands to Shawn’s waist, tugging him forward so the younger man was situated between his thighs. Shawn moved his hands to cradle his face, lifting him slightly from the chair into an eager kiss. Bret let his own hands find their way under his t-shirt, running his fingers up Shawn’s back. “Come here.” Bret breathed against Shawn’s lips, guiding him to straddle his lap. 

Shawn smiled into their kiss, feeling Bret’s growing excitement beneath him. Shawn slid his hand down, teasing at Bret’s erection. “I knew you always had a hart on for me.” he joked. “Do you ever just shut the fuck up Michaels?” Bret gasped in between Shawn’s stroking. Their mouths fought for the upperhand, Bret captured Shawn’s bottom lip and bit down roughly. Shawn withdrew, taken aback, “Damn hitman.” he snickered, testing his lip for blood. He hated Shawn and this was probably a huge mistake, but all he wanted to do was make Shawn shut up. Swiftly he grabbed Shawn by the thighs, hoisting him up, and threw him to the bed. Shawn bounced onto the mattress, promptly grabbing at Bret’s shirt to yank him forward. Bret landed a quick peck to Shawn’s mouth before moving to devour his neck. Strategically he removed the pesky white t-shirt from Shawn, creating a makeshift tie to bind Shawn’s wrists.   

He ran his tongue down to Shawn’s shoulder; tasting sweat, motel body wash, and a hint of rain water. Not an ideal flavor, but damn did it taste good on Shawn. Bret flipped Shawn effortlessly onto his stomach, keeping hold of his bound wrists. He swept Shawn’s hair to the side, kissing the nape of his neck. Shawn arched into him, craning his neck to meet Bret’s lips. His fingers felt for the waistband of Shawn’s sweatpants, sliding his hand under the fabric, not surprised to find he wasn’t wearing underwear and grasping his cock. Letting go of his wrists, he tapped the side of Shawn’s hips, signaling Shawn to prop himself on his knees. Shawn read him easily as if inside the ring and elevated his backside, pushing against Bret’s groin, breaking their kiss and keeping his face down to the mattress.

“Holy shit, Hitman…I want you.” Shawn sputtered as Bret began to steadily pump Shawn’s dick. “Fuck, I’ve always wanted you, Bret.” he mumbled into the bed. How long had Shawn wanted him? Was it nearly as long as he wanted Shawn? Over the years he had indulged himself in the occasional sexy boy fantasy and every time he loathed himself for it. He was a complete hypocrite with each jab at Shawn for shooting that girly mag. Now he had Shawn under him, unapologetically jerking him off. He brought his free hand to clasp Shawn’s throat, easing him upward so he could relax against his chest. Bret continued his deliberate rhythm, relishing the low moans and the way Shawn began to thrust into Bret’s hand. “Jesus. Don’t stop.” Shawn whimpered, burying his face into Bret’s neck. He could tell Shawn was getting close, his panting becoming more rapid.

The feeling of Shawn nestled into his body was intoxicating. Sure, they had their physical history in the ring which was intimate in itself but maybe Shawn was right after all. Maybe this was exactly what they needed. What they couldn’t settle on the mat, they could settle behind closed doors. Bret pressed his lips to Shawn’s forehead, “You know I still hate you?” he said, his words muffled against Shawn’s skin and damp hair. “This doesn’t change anything between us.” The hold he had on Shawn’s neck became a little tighter. “Even with my…dick in your hand, you still…manage to be all business.” Shawn choked out as Bret’s pace began to quicken. Bret covered Shawn’s mouth, muting the wail expelling from him as he erupted into Bret’s hand. Shawn clawed at his hold with his own constrained wrists, his hips rutting wildly into Bret’s palm as he rode out his orgasm.       

Bret released Shawn, letting him drop to the mattress. He lay there exhausted, chest heaving and glistening with sweat. Shawn twisted his wrists from the tied up shirt, easily exiting his confines. “Bret baby…” Shawn with eyes still glazed over, rolled to face him. “Please, let me make you feel good too.” he begged, crawling between Bret’s legs to play with the drawstrings of his sweats. He lifted Bret’s shirt, kissing gently at his stomach. The touch of Shawn’s lips pressing at his skin made him shiver and the thought alone of the blonde going down on him was damn near enough to make him come. Against his better judgment, he leaned back and let Shawn take control. 

Shawn slid his sweats and underwear down, revealing his throbbing erection. Without much pause, Shawn took him into his mouth. He let his eyes flutter shut, Shawn clearly had done this a time or two. His mouth felt so warm, so good, his tongue hitting all the right places. He clutched at Shawn’s hair, allowing his fingers to entangle themselves. “God damn Michaels…” he managed to groan as Shawn licked up the length of his cock. He wasn’t going to last much longer. Shawn was unrelenting as he held tightly to Bret’s thighs, keeping him in place as his hips bucked desperately into the heat of Shawn���s mouth. He couldn’t help the mangled cry Shawn managed to pry out of him as he came. “Holy shit.” he breathed, unable to form anything else articulate. 

The rain seemed to intensify outside the window, brisk air filtering in and caressing their moist bodies. Shawn had positioned himself on top of Bret’s stomach, his chin resting on crossed arms. “I bet you didn’t hate me just now.” he purred. “Fuck you.” Bret smirked, propping a hand behind his neck. His dark eyes met Shawn’s baby blues. “What now?” Shawn asked. Bret’s other hand traveled down to brush the hair from Shawn’s face, tucking a rogue lock behind his ear. “I don’t know. We have to get up soon.” Shawn emitted a breathy sigh, “Let’s stay like this a bit longer.” he insisted. The Heartbreak Kid’s eyes closed as he leaned into the way Bret lazily threaded his fingers through his golden hair. 

Internally Bret felt the need to run, this dangerously bordered on affection. He should shove the younger man away, tell him to get lost, and figure out what to do before their next show. However, his needs and wants were very different. He had said nothing would change, but deep down he knew neither of them believed that. Would they fall back into their rivalry or back into bed? What was to follow after, they couldn’t know now and they didn’t have to address it just yet. This sweet silence was preferred to all the bullshit they put each other through. Even if they had got it wrong, they could figure out the details later. Before the other knew it, the sound of the rain mixed with their slow breathing lulled them to sleep. 

This quiet moment was theirs to keep.

[beelsnack]

Imperfect - Obey Me! Boys and an MC With Scars

Continuing my trend of hyper-specific self-insert fics lol

This is me projecting a little bit, I have quite a few scars. I'm diabetic, so I don't heal very well. Also, the scenario described in Mammon's part actually happened to me, so...yeah, ya boi is projecting.

There is a part two in the works, I just don't want to make this post too long.

Content Warning: Mention of self-harm in Belphie's part.

-----

Lucifer: “Can I ask you something?”

The two of them were enjoying a rare moment of peace, sipping on hot drinks together in the early morning. Most of the occupants of the House of Lamentation were still asleep, or the ones that were awake were busy doing their own thing. For once, it felt like the world was allowing them to take a break.

Lucifer set his coffee cup down and regarded them with the soft, fond look that he seemed to reserve for them alone. “Of course, my dear.”

“If you could…” the human cleared their throat, shifting their weight around nervously. “If you could get rid of my scars, would you?”

Lucifer’s expression hardened, and for a moment they were worried they had made him angry. An apology was halfway out of their mouth when Lucifer stood, making his way over to their side and cradling their chin in his gloved hand.

“If you wished it, it would be so,” he rubbed a thumb over one of the pock-marks on their cheek. Not only had cystic acne left a constellation of marks across their face, they had always bruised easily so even the mildest of injuries left scars. 

“But you are exactly the way you need to be as you are,” Lucifer continued. “And I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

Mammon: “Did it hurt?”

At first the human thought that Mammon was attempting to use a cheesy and potentially blasphemous pick up line on them. But when they looked up from the TV show the two of them were watching while curled up in their bed, they realized that he was looking at the faded red-purple marks adorning their legs.

“Well, it didn’t fucking tickle.”

Mammon flushed. “I didn’t - I mean - uh, shit, um - “

They shoved him good-naturedly. “Don’t worry about it.”

Both of them sat in silence before they decided the awkward tension was too much. “You wanna know how I got these scars?” they asked, in a terrible Joker impression.

“Not if you’re gonna sound like Heath Ledger while telling me.” 

The human snorted. “It’s not even that cool, honestly. I was helping move some furniture, and the house had a pretty long set of concrete steps. I was going backwards down the steps, lost my footing and ate it from about six feet in the air.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Mammon hissed, wincing in sympathy.

“I have one on my arm, too, but that one’s a bit more faded,” they held up their forearm. The discolored patch of skin was barely visible in the dim light from the TV, but Mammon could still tell it couldn’t have been a pleasant experience. “Had a split second to chose between bashing my head in or fucking up my arm.”

“...I’m glad you chose your arm?” Mammon shrugged.

“Me too,” they laughed.

Leviathan: He was staring.

The human was starting to get a little uncomfortable with how intensely Levi was looking at their face. They knew the scar on the left side of their face was intense - it had been a constant reminder of the house fire they had survived when they were younger. But Levi didn’t have to stare at it like he was committing it to memory.

“I’m just thinking…”

“Thinking about what?” The human wished they had a hood to hide behind or something, they were starting to get angry. 

Levi must have realized his error, because he suddenly turned bright red and looked away, hand covering the lower half of his face in embarrassment.  The human felt a little bad, but at least Levi wasn’t gawking at them anymore.

“...y’look…lrpzuko…”

“...Come again?” 

“I said you look like Prince Zuko!” Levi blurted before pressing his hand harder against his mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m just gonna - “

“Wait,” the human pulled up their phone camera. “...I kind of see it, holy shit.”

Satan: “So where did this come from, anyway?”

He knew it probably was committing some sort of social faux pas to ask, but Satan was a curious creature by nature, and he figured that he and the human were close enough. Figuratively and literally, considering they were laying with their head in his lap while the two of them were reading.

When they made an inquisitive noise, he idly drew a clawed finger down the long, jagged scar decorating their forearm. He felt them stiffen against his legs, and when he looked up he saw the apprehension on their face.

“I…God, it’s so stupid…”

“Come on, it can’t be that bad,” Satan urged. They hesitated a bit before sighing.

“I was fighting with this kid in…it was either middle school or early high school. I went to walk away because I was kind of getting sick of arguing with the moron, but when I turned around they shoved me hard enough to knock me over. I kinda like…flung my arm up, to protect my face, y’know? And since it was outside it got all scraped up. Never healed fully, I guess, so now I have this.”

Satan hummed thoughtfully, tracing the outline of the scar. It was faint, barely visible in dim lighting, but it was obvious that the human wished it wasn’t there.

“You fought back, right?”

“Duh.”

Asmo: “You seem very focused there, darling. Don’t quite know your shade?”

The two of them had been standing in the foundation section of the local Dephora for a while now. Asmodeus knew the store like the back of his hand and had already scooped up all of his favorite products in addition to a couple new drops that had made their way onto Devilgram. The human, however, hadn’t moved for about 20 minutes.

“I mean…I know my shade, but…” they hesitated, hand idly drifting towards the side of their neck. “Coverage is more what I’m worried about.” 

Asmo’s brows furrowed. The human had a scar from when they got splashed with hot oil as a child, and they were notoriously self-conscious about it. Aesthetically, Asmo understood - it wasn’t pretty, it looked like it had hurt and if he could he would use every bit of his magical power to get rid of it completely. But it was part of the human, and Asmo loved it regardless.

He slipped a hand overtop of the humans, causing them to look up at him with worried eyes. Asmo’s own eyes softened, and he leaned over to press a gentle kiss to their forehead. “Darling, if you do want to cover it up to boost your confidence, I will gladly help you pick out foundation and concealer. But you know you don’t have to if you truly don’t want to, right? That I’ll love you no matter what?”

The human looked away, but Asmo still caught the shy smile they wore as they leaned into his hand. “I know.”

Beelzebub: “Can I help you?”

Admittedly, the human was a little paranoid about whether or not people were staring at them. But this time, it was very clear that Beelzebub was staring at them, and they weren’t sure how they felt about it. They were cooking dinner, after all, they might not even be the thing that Beel was staring at.

“That mark on your shoulder.” 

Immediately, the human tensed up. They had thought that the shirt they were wearing covered up the conspicuous birthmark on their right shoulder, but apparently not. “What about it?”

Beel paused for a moment. “It looks like a potato.”

They turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Does it? I can’t really see it all that often.”

“Mm,” Beel nodded before unfolding himself from the stool he was sitting on and coming up to hug the human from behind. He leaned down to nuzzle affectionately against the mark, and the human felt their apprehension begin to bleed away. “I like it. It makes you, you.”

They remained silent for a moment before a small smile tugged at the corner of their lips. “Thanks, Beel.”

Belphegor: “Did you do that to yourself?”

It took a minute for the human to realize what Belphie was talking about. They had just changed into their pajamas, and they honestly had thought Belphie was asleep. But apparently he had been awake enough to notice the evenly-spaced cut marks along the insides of their thighs.

“...Yeah,” they muttered, hiding their face in his chest. So much for a peaceful night’s sleep. “A while ago.”

“Why?”

They shrugged. Honestly, thinking about that particular time in their life wasn’t something they did often, at least not consciously. Every time they did, their heart rate increased, their breathing sped up, and it suddenly felt like they were in that dark room again with nothing but their spiraling thoughts - 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Belphe muttered against their hair. “Stay with me, now, okay?”

He ran a hand up and down their back soothingly, and it would never surprise them how gentle Belphegor could be for a demon.

“You want to know what I think?” Belphie allowed his fingers to trace the marks along their thighs, but the touch was distinctly platonic. 

“Mm?”

“I think,” he pressed a kiss to the crown of their head. “That you were going through a lot, and those scars are proof that you made it through.”

The human stilled, processing, before they snuggled deeper into Belphie’s embrace. “You think so?”

“Mm-hm,” he hummed sleepily, hand stilling against the small of their back. “Not that I’m glad you have them, mind you, but nobody goes through hell completely unscathed and you shouldn’t feel ashamed of them.”

[takeomurasaki]

Hey takeo! How’s everything? Welcome to Tumblr and to the writing community. I read your post and I was hoping if you could write something for Izuku’s birthday? Maybe reader organizing a surprise party for him without him knowing? (Only if you want to that is)

And I can’t wait to see you grow here! I was once a small writer here (kind of still am) so I get how you feel about being on such a popular platform. And remember: writing’s supposed to be fun, not tiring. Post whatever’s on your mind.

Take care and stay safe!

Hi Moonlight, Thank you so much for the request and the kind welcoming message! I'm really grateful for your kindness and hope you grow even more as a writer 🙏🏻

I adore this idea and hope I could interpret what you had in mind, hope you enjoy this 🩵

" Perfect Birthday for Him 💚 "

Izuku Midoriya x GN!Reader

Type: Romantic, Fluff, One-shot.

Summary: Surprise party for Izuku's birthday.

Word Count : 2005 words

You put your hand on your hip, the other on your forehead. The cake was finally in the oven.

"I can't believe I beat the squad to it! It was exhausting but everything's ready cake wise."

"Could you help me clean now? First you kidnap me from my morning training to bake a fucking cake for Deku and now you won't even clean. Damn extra!" Bakugo screamed-whispered in your ears. It was still early and if the both of you woke the others up, Izuku might wake up, and that's a no-go.

You weren't the best at baking, that was a flaw of yours but you always tried your best at it. That failed this time around, though. You had tried to prepare a cake for Izuku's birthday but you mixed the cake mix with too much olive oil and it was ruined and smelled terrible. Thank God you knew just the right person to help you: Bakugo. He might be a douche, he was the best at baking so you asked him regardless. The blonde wasn't dumb, he saw in your eyes that this cake meant a lot to you, and he sure could see you wanted to impress his childhood friend. Your eyes were shining and a deeper colour than they used to be, your cheeks were tinted red and sweat dripped from your forehead. Your hair was messy from the rush you had been in for the past couple days preparing the perfect birthday for Midoriya.

He found that funny and laughed at your face, but followed through with your plan anyway. He's not a monster, why wouldn't he help his nerdy childhood bestie get game?

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming. You're going to wake them up if you keep speaking so loud Bakugo please.." You sighed in complete despair and closed your eyes. He sure could be a pain in the ass sometimes.

As you were washing the dishes and Bakugo finishing cleaning the countertop, he spoke out of the blue.

"Say professional simp, why'd you stress so much over that birthday party anyway? You know damn well he's gonna enjoy it if it's you preparing it for fuck's sake." He said rather loudly, grinning like a mad man, he REALLY was a pain in the ass today.

"Bakugo I- He- What? Oh my God" you facepalmed, your face so red your ears began to redden too. You gritted your teeth, this guy was gonna ruin the plan it he keeps at it. "Shut the fuck up and don't speak so loud! Get back to cleaning." You got back to cleaning the dishes, furrowing your brows still red faced. You did hope he was right, that Izuku was gonna like it and actually realize you liked him bad, like bad bad !

Let's not forget who Midoriya is, he gets quite oblivious when it comes to love. Random people were hitting on him at least once a month in the most random places ever and he never suspected a thing, he thought they were just being nice.

That made you fall deeper for the green haired boy if you were honest, you found that just so cute. He always was but his oblivion to others' perception of him added to his natural charm.

You could not mess today up, you were a compassionate and thoughtful friend who always went above and beyond to make your loved ones feel special. You have a knack for creating unforgettable moments and ensuring that every detail is perfect when it comes to showing someone how much they mean to you, mostly Izuku.

It was your chance of getting him to be aware of himself and his attractiveness that you admired deeply, too.

Later on, you went to Mr. Aizaiwa. He wasn't your teacher, you were in class 1-C, but he was Midoriyas and he was helping the whole plan happen out of sheer boredom. He was indeed the weirdest teacher you'd ever met.

It was lunch time, the perfect timing to meet him and discuss today's matter. You knocked on the almost empty classroom's door and entered slowly.

Internally you were an absolute mess. Trying to keep your composure wasn't easy as a swarm of butterflies filled your stomach to the brim, the anticipation was overbearing. The party was getting closer.

"Hello Aizaiwa sensei. Do you remember about Izuku's birthday party perchance? Do we have permission?" You managed to smile somewhat normally with sweaty palms.

He looked up from his spot, tucked in his sleeping bag about to fall asleep from the bags under his eyes. "Hello Y/N L/N, I do remember problem child's birthday party... Principal Nezu is okay with the party being held in the dorm's common room. You will have to mark out the things you're using from the school on a paper though so we know what you took. Dismiss now, I'm sleepy, kid." And with that he just fell on the ground and closed his sleeping bag further, till we couldn't see his face.

You did a little happy dance, how could you not? You had everything planned out perfectly. You rushed out of the classroom to prepare the decorations and the organization.

You were by yourself to prepare the room and all. The others were still in class. After class was done everyone has to come here and finish preparing everything with you, excluding Ochaco of course. She was his current best friend and was tasked to keep him occupied for sometime so we could all hide and all. Honestly your excited was making you go faster than you anticipated, your breath was warm as you were going up and down chairs to be tall enough to reach the ceiling and put the All Might banner and balloons you managed to obtain.

You carefully placed the plates and cups, All Might themed of course, on the table. Each plate and cup with a name on it so no one would get mixed up, that also prevented you from forgetting anyone. You prepared the soft and energy drinks you had brought the day before and put them on the table alongside crackers, chips and nerunerune kits. Candy for the sweet guy, you were proud of the connection you had made at the supermarket. You even got to use UA's party things, so you had confetti on the table, on the ground and even found a red carpet to put at the door leading to Midoriya's chair. Oh his chair, you took an extra time on it. It had little All Might stickers on it you brought for this special occasion, an All Might cushion sitting bare seemingly waiting for Izuku to sit down on. You were overjoyed it was so perfect and turned out how you imagined it.

After the bell rang, the others rushed to the dorm and were surprised to see you had done everything. You took the paper hats, All Might themed why wouldn't they be, and ended one to each and everyone. Mina insisted on having colorful streamers, you couldn't disagree it was a great idea for sure, the clean up was going to be a nightmare but that's for later.

You all got in your hiding spots and turned off the lights, Ochako texted you and said she was near with Midoriya. Your heart was racing, your face red. Barely hyperventilating at this point, you brushed your palm against your chest to contain your excitement. The door clicked open.

"Ochako-san? Why is it so dark in there?" Midoriya was intrigued and turned on the light. Seconds after, you all jumped up and screamed happy birthday to the birthday boy. Midoriya was surprised, his eyes wide and sparkling as he scanned the place and everyone in the room. He smiled brightly, showing his pearly white teeth. His cheeks tinted pink at this point. He thanked everyone, one by one, until it was you left. He approached you, he seemed excited from what you could tell.

"My raitō! Everyone told me you planned all this and I could never thank you enough!" He engulfed you in his muscular arms.

Your eyes widened, he had just called you his precious and on top of that he was hugging you. Heat rushed to your whole face and ears. Your pupils dilated, you inhaled his sweet scent that filled your lungs to the brim. You giggled finally hugging him back.

"It was nothing Izu, nothing is enough to compare to you." You admitted, a knot forming in your throat as the words spilled out your mouth. Izuku instantly lifted his head up from the hug and he was scarlet red at this point. He started stuttering and muttering, you couldn't really understand what he was saying so you just laughed. With the courage you had managed to form you gave him a small peck on the cheek and went to Todoroki to get the gifts out of their hiding spots in his room.

Izuku was frozen in place, his chin trembled as he tried to process what just happened. His hand trailed slowly to his cheek and realization hit him straight in the face. He had not studied them enough, that wasn't in his notes.

The time for the gifts came, everyone hurried at the table as Izuku sat down on his custom chair. He was so nervous, that was a lot of attention on him at once and you were still there, sweetly grinning at him. He opened each gift gently as to keep the All Might merched wrapping paper and thanked everyone for their gifts. The last one was yours and he was absolutely thrilled, his palms shaking and his heart racing. He opened the box hidden under the wrapping paper and lifted an eyebrow, the box was empty.

"Is- is this normal Y/N ?" He said scanning the box, flipping it upside down and shaking it.

You were freaking out. Everything was perfect but this. The gift wasn't in the box. Without even thinking, you screamed, terrified and hurried to Todoroki's room, it must still be there. Izuku followed you and motioned the others to stay put in their place.

"Where the fuck is it!? I swear it was just there!" Your eyes scanned every corner of Todoroki's room in desperation. You were moving every single piece of furniture trying to find the gift for Izuku, you rambled on about where it could be and didn't hear it feel Izuku's presence in the room. His brows narrowed and he stepped towards you. He placed his hand on your shoulder stopping you dead in your tracks. You were crying, the frustration was too much for your poor heart and soul to handle.

He opened his arms and smiled at you,

"Y/N please calm down, I don't need a material gift it's all fine I promise. We can have fun with the others and we'll search for the gift after the party how does that sound to you? Is this ok?"

You accepted the embrace, slowly nodded rubbing your eyes. "I guess this is. I'm so sorry Zuku it was meant to be a perfect birthday. I was so focused on you and your birthday party I even forgot to put the gift in the box." You managed to trail out between small whimpers and crys. Izuku gently rubbed your back as you confessed to him, he was happy you trusted him with your emotions. Seeing you vulnerable like this comforted his love for you, if you could break your outer walls down for him, he could do the same for you.

"I understand the struggle, it was the same to me when it was your birthday honestly. You're just so mesmerizing I lost myself for a moment." You looked at him with mouth agape, face redder than it had ever been. He chuckled and pecked your forehead, just as red as you were.

"Your presence and attention towards me and my birthday is the greatest gift you could have given me, Aijin."

Takeo.

[apprenticestanheight]

THE FIVE DAYS OF SMUTMAS QUEUE: DAY THREE

Somno - Peter Strahm x gn! reader

Allllllll right, we are on to day three of this event and despite the fact that I never really write this many fics in less than a week unless motivation has come around and hyped me to a point where I'm capable of doing it across two days, I am still chuggin on and to be honest, the concept for this fic is largely what's kept me from going down the demotivated slope.

I have had a very not great last two months of the year and so body worship with peter strahm and a touch of angst with hurt/comfort it is, because I needed to write this idea out and figured this event would be a good opportunity lol.

Last note before this fic begins, this fic is meant for audiences of 18+! Minors, do not interact.

Fic type- this is smut and hurt/comfort

Warnings- somnophilia, oral (afab recieving), there is one mention of trauma/anxiety induced insomnia, and the reader is gn for all intents and purposes, but I went with an AFAB reader as that's the anatomy I know best, and this is edited but barely bc I wanted to post oops.

Peter is all too aware of how rough the last few months have been for you.

Granted, you've not said a word of it because you'd sooner see hell than let anyone know when you're going through a rough spot, but since your relationship has begun, Peter has learned to look for the subtle tells you display whenever you feel like your life is about to start falling apart.

Peter is something of a chronic insomniac because of how the on-call schedule of his work with the Jigsaw case has impacted his sleeping capabilities, and so he's used to staying awake for hours on end in case he gets a phone call from someone at the Jersey precinct.

You, however, work a decent and consistent job as a cleaner that pays more than well. You have a set of routines—you wake up at six thirty every morning, make a steaming mug of chai from the K-Cups you adore, eat an easy breakfast and a cliff bar on your way out of the house.

You're at work from seven-thirty in the morning to six thirty most nights, come home and do whatever needs doing around the apartment that you and Peter share, and you watch TV or read until Peter comes home and the two of you order dinner.

You always go to bed sooner than Peter does, typically going to bed somewhere around eleven or midnight where the earliest Peter goes to sleep is one, and then you wake up the next morning and your cycle repeats.

However, since September, whenever Peter has come to bed, you've still been awake, even if it's three or four in the morning. The chai you made with the K-Cups you adore has turned into a steaming cup of coffee that you have to sweeten with brown sugar, honey, and sometimes maple syrup to be able to tolerate.

You're at work from seven am to nine or ten most nights now, and by the time you're home, the housework has been looked after because Peters hired a cleaning lady to come by the house and make sure the house stays clean once every four or five days.

You come home and Peter tries to get you to smile but nothing really does the trick. Peter finds that he misses you, wants to try to goad you into talking it out with him but knows from too many attempts to do so that it absolutely will not work.

But, when he comes home on the 22nd at 7:30, a rarely early time for him get home as the stuff with Jigsaw has progressed, he's completely and utterly shocked to see you sitting on the couch in your living room.

When he closes the door, your gaze snaps to his.

"I owe you an apology," you say. "I've been very terrible at being a spouse the past few months. I shouldn't've subjected you to that. I know I need to be better at communicating and I just feel awful because I've pretty much shut you out and I just—it's just not—it's not fair to you, Peter."

"It's all right, Y/N," he says. "I thought that something had happened, yeah? I figured you wanted space and I was going to give it to you until you decided you wanted closeness again. I know I get angry really quick and am frankly a little surprised I haven't snapped about it but I have worked on not snapping a lot since we started dating."

You've been married something like a decade. It took a lot of storming for Peter to reach the level of evenness, the level of calm, where he stood.

"Yeah, but I've been terrible," you laugh. Peter approaches, sits next to you on your couch. "I've not—it's not been fair, Pete. I haven't talked, I've worked myself almost to the bone, I don't eat breakfast like I used to—all of my routines have been thrown off by this, and I can't imagine how yours have been."

He wishes he could say that he was fine, completely unaffected by it, but to say that would be to lie right to your face, which is something he promised never to do in his wedding vows. He worried about you all the time, desperately wanted to ask you if you were okay and try to goad you into talking to him even though that had never, ever worked in his favor.

Peter grins at you. "I'm just glad you're okay, Y/N," he says. "Had me worried for a stretch, if I'm honest."

"I'm sorry to have worried you," you say. "I've just—work has been driving me mental. I took more hours to get a bit of a Christmas bonus on top of the bonus I get tomorrow to try to ease the mental stuff I've been dealing with and yeah, the cushy paycheck is great but fuck if I don't hate dealing with people during the holiday season. I have been yelled at about how spotless houses need to be more times than I can count."

Peter laughs. "You're the one who decided to go into the cleaning business," he says. You laugh a bit yourself, press your forehead against his shoulder.

"I know," you mumble sadly, a laugh trailing through your words. "But when I started, I'd really hoped I would spend less time talking to people, more time deep cleaning carpets while I had decent music playing through a Walkman. I do get to listen to music but the people are becoming more and more of an issue lately."

Peter presses a kiss to the top of your head. "You're gonna take a bit of time off, mm? You definitely seem like you could use it."

"I booked it last night," you nod. "Tomorrow through til valentines day. I need the time to settle back into routines and I've been drinking coffee religiously—it's more than the one I drink here. I drink at least three cups a day just in the name of keeping myself upright and that needs to stop. I am beyond caffeine overdose. I can drink 600 miligrams a day and not feel a thing."

"That is definitely cause for concern," Peter laughs. "But I'm glad you're okay and that you're trying to get better. I've booked up until the New Year off so that I could catch up on sleep, too, but if we're both home, it means a lot of us time after Christmas. Still goin' up to New York?"

"My mother will put us to death if we don't," you laugh. Peter laughs.

For a solid few minutes, things really do feel like they'll be okay.

-

For what is probably the first time since before he was so much as a cop, Peter Strahm is asleep, you also asleep next to him in the bed that you share, at nine o'clock. He wakes up at six thirty from an unfortunately kinky dream and all he wants to do is part your legs and eat you out until he can't breathe.

Granted—you've spoken extensively about it before, and you've given him the okay to do it several times just as he has you, but still. The part of Peter that's turned on by the idea is equally matched by the part that kind of feels gross about it.

But then, approximately five minutes into unbearably loud thoughts about pulling down the sweatpants you'd stolen from him and parting your legs and devouring you, and five minutes away from just running to the bathroom and rubbing one out to the idea, he watches you press your face against the pillow and moan loud enough for him to hear it.

"Peter," you moan. "Fuck, feels so good."

Peters eyes nearly roll to the back of his head and he bites down on his tongue to keep himself from floating.

He tries to shake out his hands, tries to think of anything else while your quiet, desperate moans fill the air.

He thrums through the Jigsaw victims that've popped up in recent weeks, tries to think about something like the weather or the baseball scores or something to focus on anything but the fact that you're in the midst of a sex dream, one involving him, and the fact that you're moaning your way through it in a way that makes Peter want to lose his mind.

And then, you moan Peters name in a way that you know in your lucid moments drives him crazy, and Peter can't stop himself.

You've discussed it before, and Peters done it before, and every single time he's woken you up with his tongue rubbing wildly against your clit, you've moaned out and started rutting against his face and made a comment about how much you liked waking up to Peter bringing you to orgasm.

Peter is careful to remove the sweatpants you've taken from his drawer, lifting up the shirt you also stole and exposing some of your waist.

He licks a stripe through your folds, not at all surprised to find you're wet if the way that you're moaning from the dream is of any indication, and almost moans against your cunt right then and there.

He starts off slowly, licking stripes against your folds and drinking your wetness down his throat like it's water. Every single time you moan something within him flutters, and he knows it's been too long since he's taken his time with eating you out.

And then, as his tongue attaches to your clit, he feels one of your hands move to his hair.

"Best way to wake up ever," you whisper. "Oh, Peter. Thank you."

You sound half-asleep, but Peter moans against you and you tug on his hair encouragingly, so he keeps going.

He runs his tongue in circles over your clit, sliding a digit into your wet hole without a thought in the world, fighting a smirk when you moan and tug on his hair again.

He starts thrusting, sets a pace that has you writhing within minutes, and takes his fingers out in the last split second before you release, replacing his fingers with his tongue and lapping up your cum without thought, care, or merit. You thrust against his face in the aftershocks, moan as he gets up from his position.

He pulls you in for a kiss while you use one arm to amble through your nightstand for a condom, feeling Marks half-hard, clothed-but-only-by-flannel-pajama-pants length against your bare thigh.

You pull away only so that he can take his pants off, and you slide the condom on with care for how hard his cock is. He peppers your neck and jawline with kisses as he slowly thrusts into your sensitive folds, moaning as he bottoms out.

"I love you," he says to fill the silence while he waits for you to adjust.

"Thank you for dealing with me when I'm at my worst," you press a kiss to his cheekbone. "And for waking me up in the best way ever. Love it when you eat me out, Pete. You're so fucking good at it."

Your legs are wrapped around his waist and you squeeze his hips to tell him to start moving, and when he does, he sets a slow pace. Despite his fervency when it came to oral, he did intend to actually make it known that he did love you and wasn't always in it just to get you or himself to orgasm as quickly as possible.

His pace is slow indeed, but not slow enough that you're pretty much begging him to pick it up a little, and his thrusts are languid in a way that's perfect.

Both of you start moaning after a bit, and Peter, the guy who never moans and usually just likes hearing how you sound when you do, is moaning lewdly and loudly into the nape of your neck while you moan quietly near his ear.

"Peter," you moan. "Peter, fuck. You're so fucking good at this, yeah? You're treating me so well, baby. You're amazing."

Peter moans, clearly enjoying the praise, and you rut your hips against him.

"Fuck," he moans, picking up the pace just a little. "Fuck, Y/N. I love getting you so slick. You were dreaming about me, yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod. "Yeah. We were fucking at the precinct, in one of the storage closets."

Peter moves a hand to rub your clit, loving the moan that it brings out of you.

Minutes pass by of the same, and your release triggers Peters. You moan each others names as you come, and while you go pee to make sure you don't end up with a UTI, Peter pulls the condom off and trashes it, gets a bath going for the two of you.

In the bath, you talk of plans for the day, which will consist entirely of going to the shops together, reading books and doing last-minute christmas shopping.

All in all, you're happy that Peter woke you up with oral and Peter is happy that you're feeling okay enough to want to be woken up that way again.

[demonstars]

ultimate fic recs by nunki demonstars

no order of preference, just my all time fave dnf/dteam fics!

tried to keep it to one fic per author but honestly i didn't really pay attention, i just posted from my bookmarks. for this reasons, all authors are credited and linked to ao3. there's cc and c!/manhunt au fics (more of the former, but the warning seems necesary). there's also both nsft and not on this list, which are marked.

the list grew without my intention, so without further ado, here's a chaotic and huge list of fic recs from 2020 to 2023, for your enjoyement.

Kiss me in the morning light by dangergranger & shadeofblue

Five times Dream kisses a man (that isn’t George) and one time he finally does it right.

mood ring baby by minecraftbed

A proposal, of sorts.

paper & crayons by snowdreamr

It doesn’t take a genius to realize that Dream and George taking care of a child on Valentine’s day is a terrible, terrible idea.

all of you, a verb in perfect view by findinghomes

Despite being soulmates, they do nothing about it (well, okay, maybe not nothing).

tug me closer by effervescentwolf (expl.)

Dream likes getting his hair pulled. George just likes making him fall apart.

Protected by Anonymous

Dream is the Crown Prince and the future king. His sworn duty is to protect his kingdom from outside threats, especially from the scourge of magic. George is his best friend and, technically, his servant. And he has a secret.

stage left by anonymous

cc!dnf roleplay c!dnf

down my arms, a thousand satellites by crabnap

Dream gets sick and George, to his amazement, is actually very soft and caring about it. Surely nothing life-changing will come of this.

my heart (in your chest) by heartinhands

It's an early morning in LA and George just wants to be with Dream.

a little bit of you by sickah (expl.)

Dream is over waiting on George, especially when all George does is tease him and lead him on. So, he meets a hot girl at Twitchcon and she turns out to actually be really, really cool. George loses his fucking mind.

cherries by sappymix1

Everyone always said that Dream loved too much.

loving you is bigger than my head by tippysleeps (expl.)

"You only ever talked about, like, footballers.” “Yeah,” Dream says, like it’s obvious. “To you. What, was I supposed to talk about my attraction to you as it was developing?” George blinks. “You talked to people about your attraction to me?”

lavender haze by furculaed

“Lavender?” he asks, holding up the bottle. The afternoon air has this foggy feel to it, almost like nothing is real. But the heat of the sun is curling around George’s hair and his smile strikes deep into his heart right where he loves him so Dream thinks this has to be real. “It’s supposed to help you sleep.”

At the Intersection of Infinity by DeathSquiggles

dream is trapped in a time loop on his 23rd birthday and keeps repeating the day with no clear way out.

your hands were warm (though you came in from the cold) by didnt

George and Dream are roommates and somewhere down the line things got messed up.

got me looking so dumb right now by dreamsickle

About a month after George gets to Florida, Sapnap takes a spontaneous trip with Punz up to Karl's for a week. He gets home, and something's different.

at the mouth of desire by offday

Somehow, close was not close enough.

aurum scarce (and meant for kings) by wooowriter

George's first hurricane.

my pen and paper cause a chain reaction by dizzy

George has some issues with something Dream tweeted.

hit my heaven's door by preytall (expl.)

It'd be easy, then, to overlook. But Dream keeps playing with the chain.

ignore my heart and lie to the truth by mincraftbed (expl.)

“You wanna be like… friends with benefits?”

Misquote Me (Do It Once More) by MoniFoundLove

In which George drops hints about their future and Dream ignores them a few times (accidentally).

thy eternal summer shall not fade by greyquills

A month into their senior year of high school, Dream spends the entirety of period three AP Literature class finding new and creative ways to flirt with George. George is understandably flustered.

but i was always on my way to him by womanhunt

Dream and George spend their first night together after meeting.

A Quiet Life (A Handshake) by undermycoat

The strongest dam in Essempy will never break, no matter if it cracks or leaks. George is not the strongest dam.

For The Bit by biboyhalo (expl.)

5 times Dream and George get distracted during sex and the 1 time it actually matters.

be the one by riversofgold (expl.)

Agreeing to be friends with benefits with George is the worst decision of Dream's life.

love on film by havocrat

George arrives in Florida. It takes four days to film the meetup vlog, and only three for Dream to completely lose his mind.

the first day of the rest of our lives by wooowriter

George's first full day in Florida.

to burn with desire and keep quiet by falsettodrop (expl.)

Varying degrees of togetherness, in four parts.

until you're by my side by sweetuhcreature

A late night in Florida, a later night in London. George thinks there's something wrong with him.

suck a dick fallacy by literaphobe (expl.)

Dream has so much he wants to explore about his sexuality, but no one he trusts enough to do it with. Lucky for him, George is finally in Florida. Surely things will be easy enough to figure out between best friends like them. It ends up spiraling far beyond what either of them could anticipate.

get you the moon by snowdreamr (expl.)

It’s George’s birthday, and he finally allows himself to love.

You Are the Golden Dawn by hircinean (expl.)

dream falls in love with george all over again, several years later.

I'll Be Here When You Return by mssjynx (expl.)

Five times that George took care of Dream, plus the one time that Dream took care of George!

i think he knows by Anonymous

It’s a weekday in Florida, and Dream seems perfectly content to like fanarts in which he’s kissing GeorgeNotFound on the mouth. George, for all his worth, can’t help but do something about it.

button-downs and seashells by quartzfia

George is a daycare receptionist and literally falls on his face for a tall blonde who comes in early for pickup.

Deep sea, baby by orphan_account

You survey his skin as if it will erase a border.

late spring by towerofthegods

It's the hours between night and morning, and Dream wants to know more.

the elephant in the room by heyobsessions

the things dream learns about george after he moves to florida, and the things they learn together

sugar honey sweet by enonymous

Gift-giving as a love language, or: 5 times Dream bought George something, and 1 time George bought something for him.

Do Androids Dream of Poetry? by ABirdWithoutFeathers

> Happy birthday!! Who are you? > My name is George! it is so, so nice to finally meet you. What is a birthday? > It’s the anniversary of the day you come into existence, when you start being. Today is your very first day in the world. Oh. Well, what do I do now?

flirting on the timeline by cloudfarmer

Dream is a popular Minecraft Youtuber and George runs a stan account for him on Twitter. After George replies to one of Dream's tweets with a jokingly flirtatious proposal, it quickly turns into a lot more than George was expecting when Dream publicly accepts.

cinnamon and swirl

Dream decides to tell his friends about his daughter right before they move in.

Saying something stupid like, "I love you" by noquesadilla

misunderstandings, obliviousness, and food poisoning. Never a good combination, less when it's Valentine's Day.

i'm not just drunk, i really think i'm in love with you by nervouswaltz

Dream gets drunk at a party. He calls George.

give you my heart if you’d take it by copperfic

He knows he has no right to be upset, hates that he is, hates the burn of jealousy so strong he almost feels sick, but every time he imagines Dream, loose and tipsy and happy, kissing some stranger—multiple ones by the sound of it—he has to swallow the urge to scream or throw up or, god forbid, cry.

circle the drain by twostorms

George makes it to Florida. It’s more complicated than it should be.

where the sun sleeps by meridies

The crew are pirates with no mercy, George is a selkie, and there is more to Dream than meets the eye.

something that's real by lodestones

George used to dream of this—settling into a life together, meeting the family, building furniture in their house, for their room—of domesticity and easy comfort and happiness, like nothing he’s ever known.

two reflections into one by mieldoux (expl.)

It takes Dream some time, but when he comes to the realisation, it rewires the chemistry in his brain. He and George—they have the same thing, it seems. The thing for the stubble.

ilysfm (i love u so fucking much) by zephryus

Five times George swore like hell, and the one time Dream reciprocated.

Love Me Loud by DeathSquiggles (expl.)

George has a fresh Foodbeast’s Kitchen League Battle Royale victory under his belt and a spring in his step from the energy of the crowds. He expects Dream will want to shut himself away in his hotel room and decompress alone after what must have been one of the most overwhelming days of his life. Dream has other plans.

Comorbidity by sappymix1

It's summer, and the face thing is making both of them a little weird.

you got the peaches (i got the cream) by (it says orphan acc but i'm 95% sure it's preytall's old acc) (expl.)

A love letter to George's... assets.

bibingka by furculaed

Dream gets home from a night of drinking and decides to decorate the house.

it's a big refrain (after all) by tippysleeps

It takes mere weeks in the loving heat of Florida for him to look at Dream out of the corner of his eye, and think he could take on anything as long as it was with him.

One night (or forever) by winterlighting

George breaks his bed on his first night in Florida, then a sleeping arrangement that was meant to last until he got a new bed frame soon turned into a routine; full of domesticity and gestures that blur the platonic line.

revelations in distance and proximity by indigoh

2020 Dream and 2023 Dream unknowingly swap bodies for a day to heal past wounds. 2020 Dream has an opportunity to confront feelings he’s pushed down and repressed while 2020 George gets some of the reassurance he needs.

When The Sunlight Dies by bramble_patch & personalized_radio

It's been three months since the coup. Three months since Sapnap, a knight, and George, his prince, have been chased out of their home. Three months of being on the run, trying to find a safe way out of Kinoko without being caught by the president's mercenaries or an opportunistic bounty hunter.

just a test by honeyplease

“I asked,” Dream replies, sounding far too unbothered for the words that follow this, “When are we gonna kiss?”

Who Can Love You Like Me? by ivegivenuponyou (expl.)

“Can we go to our room?” His small hand reaches forward, curling around Dream’s neck and pulling them closer until their chests touch. There’s a glint in his eyes that Dream can recognize even in the dark. “We literally just got home, how are you already horny?” He can’t help but grin, throwing his arms over George’s shoulders.

[tgmsunmontue]

Come on baby light my fire… 2/2 (or 7/7?)

Hangster. 3k. Explicit. Apartment fire alarm at 1am featuring Jake in his underwear and Bradley with kittens.

All six potential endings are included in one post below. If you'd rather read them as separate chapters you can check out AO3 where I posted it first for once.

PART ONE (on Tumblr)

OPTION A

                Jake looks down at the sleeping man, so tempted to curl up back in bed with him. But he’s got to go and figure out how to get back into his own apartment. Most importantly though is he wants Bradley’s number, and he knows his own. He grabs Bradley’s phone, carefully grabs his hand and presses his finger to the fingerprint reader and sure enough it unlocks. There’s a photo of a couple as the background but he’s more interested in adding himself as a contact. He does so quickly, his name followed by a little flame, night cityscape, cat emoji, then an eggplant and some droplets because he’s hilarious and he’s pretty sure Bradley will think he’s funny.

                He sends himself a couple of messages, basically with all the details of where he’s gone and that he has no plans for the rest of the day and will come back to the apartment if he can’t locate Javy at the gym, or message him as soon as he’s in his apartment and has access to his phone again. He rifles through Bradley’s bag, a little perturbed by the number of Hawaiian shirts he finds, but pulls out a very worn US Navy t-shirt that has a very retro feel. None of it is what he’d usually wear, but all of it is better than being naked. It’s bad enough that he’s going to have to be barefoot and he wonders whether he could really chance taking what look like Bradley’s only pair of shoes. Screw it. He’ll be back soon enough.

                He laces up, the shoes a bit too big, then jogs the two blocks to where Javy prefers to go to the gym, glad it’s not further. It’s still at least another fifteen minutes before he usually starts, but Jake can’t risk him being early and missing him. But he is a man borne of military routine and walks up about a minute before Jake expected him.

                “Javy! Hey!”

                “Man! What are you wearing?!”

                “It’s a long story, well, actually, it’s not that long. My apartment building had a fire alarm, I left without my keys but I was only wearing my underwear. Hooked up with this guy who is fucking scorching hot –”

                “But has terrible taste in clothes.”

                “He’d make this work, trust me. Anyway, I need you to get my spare key.”

                “I’m not skipping my workout for you…”

                “Yes you are, in gratitude for me not waking you at two in the morning in my underwear to give me my spare…”

                “And I’m sure you were really suffering with the scorching hot guy. Your story is truly heart wrenching.”

                “Come on!”

                “Fine, here, take my keys, go and grab yours, then you can return your spare and my keys back to me. Deal?”

                “Yeah, good plan. I probably shouldn’t have both sets on me.”

                “You think?” Javy says dryly and Jake gives him the finger.

                After agreeing to take Jake’s car to make it all much faster he gets through the logistics of getting to Javy’s, grabbing his spare keys and then back to his apartment. Lets himself in with a sigh of relief and immediately goes to his phone, ignores all the other messages and clicks on the new messages and clicks Add Contact. He enters in Bradley, following it with a cat emoji and then three little flames. He’s not going to forget who Bradley is in a hurry. He doesn’t bother changing, needs to return Javy’s car and keys and then come back again. As he’s walking back he sends a message, nerves fluttering in his stomach.

>>I have keys, my phone and am heading back to my apartment. 5A. Want to come over?

>>On my way.

OPTION B

                Jake rolls his eyes, of course Bradley’s phone is dead. Ah well, he can go old school. There’s a pen and paper on the bench and he quickly writes down his name and number, along with his apartment number and a hope to see you soon. Leaves the piece of the paper smack center in the middle of the kitchen counter where it can’t be missed. He pulls on his underwear, then rifles through Bradley’s clothes and pulls out some sweat pants and a t-shirt. Okay, this is going to be a mortifying experience however slightly less mortifying than if he went out in just his underwear. Also less likely to result in any indecency charges.

…            …            …

                Bradley looks at the little pieces of paper and his heart sinks. He’s pretty sure that it’s a note, now ripped to shreds and missing pieces, the kittens having wrecked havoc on the little piece of paper, now scattered around like soggy confetti. He picks up one of the pieces and it’s definitely got a number on it. What number, he has no idea, it could be an apartment number for all he knows. He freezes, realizing that he’s not going to be thwarted by two baby cats. He knows Jake’s name and that he lives in this apartment building. Eight floors, six apartments on each floor. That’s forty-eight handwritten notes, minus six because he doesn’t need to do one for Hilary’s apartment or any of her neighbors, because surely Jake would have mentioned if he’d been on the same floor. That’s something you’d mention right?

                He finds some paper, making sure it’s a decent size because the last thing he wants is for Jake to somehow miss his note in return, that just makes him look like an inept love interest in a romcom. He’s in charge of this. His hand starts cramping around the thirtieth message but he keeps on, then pulls on some clothes, not caring what he’s wearing. He takes the stairs down to the lobby, eyes up all the little mail slots and then just starts posting a handwritten note in each one. Stands back and looks. Right. Now all he has to do is wait for Jake to contact him.

                The entire day goes by and he refuses to panic. Not everyone checks their mail everyday, he might even have to wait a couple of days, although Hilary is returning tomorrow and he’s meant to be going and staying with Nat for a couple of nights before his next deployment. But Jake will still get his number. He just has to want to use it.

…            …            …

                He should have gotten Bradley’s number.

                It’s been hours and Bradley hasn’t sent him a single message.

                Would it be weird to go and knock on his door?

                Yes. That just seems a shade too desperate. He can act cool.

…            …            …

                Jake frowns at the piece of paper, the only thing in his mail slot and he’s only check it because he’s walking past. A note. A handwritten note.

                Hi, I’m looking for Jake. This is Bradley. Please contact me.

                And then a phone number and he grins at it, because he’s going to get some answer now, multiple answers he suspects, because his number of questions has just doubled. He enters the number into his phone as he walks, presses call and holds the phone to his ear.

                “Hello, Bradley here.”

                “Hi. It’s Jake.”

                “You called! Hi…”

                “Hi… any particular reason you’re leaving me a handwritten note and not just using the technology available to us?”

                “Because I didn’t have your number. The cats, they ripped it to shreds and I just… had to figure out a way of contacting you.”

                “Smart and good looking. If you knew which apartment was mine why didn’t you just come knock on my door. I would have let you in.”

                “Ah… I put a note in every apartments mail slot.”

                “Of course you did…”

                “Well, sitting around outside waiting for you to enter or exit the building seemed a little stalkerish.”

                “Yes. So… not playing hard to get.”

                “Definitely not.”

                “Good. So I can assume you’ll say yes if I ask you out to dinner?”

                “Why don’t you go ahead and ask.”

OPTION C

                He knocks on the door, a little disappointed that Bradley hasn’t sent him a message, is surprised because he’d kind of thought they’d connected on a level that was maybe, hopefully, more than just sexual. The door opens and it’s not Bradley answering, but a woman his age, looking very comfortable in too-big sweats and hoodie. His stomach starts souring, twisting into unpleasant tightness.

                “Hi. Uh…”

                “Are you looking for Bradley?”

                “Ah, yeah. Sorry to have bothered you. He just helped me out the other night,” he flushes, hopes whoever this woman is doesn’t read too much into the helped me out aspect of the sentence, because he hadn’t meant it as an innuendo.

                “Oh, yeah, he was just kitten sitting for me while I was out of town. Do you want his number?”

                He sucks in a sharp breath, the relief sharp and instant.

                “Do you have it?”

                “Of course I do, he’s a college friend. And I’m assuming you’re the hot neighbor who he was annoyed at me about not warning him about?”

                “Jake. My name’s Jake.”

                “Nice to meet you Jake. I expect an invite to the wedding…”

                “Well, he didn’t message me, so maybe don’t plan on that…”

                “Oh, yeah, I found little shreds of paper, so if you tried leaving a note that was a no-go…”

                “What?”

                “Orea and Cracker. They shred paper. I think I found a couple of pieces. Floated my theory past a very forlorn Brad Brad and he said it was maybe a possibility. Here, take his number and go put your man out of his misery…”

OPTION D (Version I – fits within TGM events)

                Pete frowns, because he hasn’t seen that shirt in years. Maybe literal decades, and now that’s a scary thought for other reasons. But he’d swear that that man is wearing Goose’s old Navy shirt, old sauce stain down the front and everything. Bradley had taken it when he’d left, had always used it as a pyjama top and it had always made Pete smile to see, the memories still bittersweet of the dinner shared with friends. He needs to know.

                “Ah, excuse me. This is going to be an odd question, but I just need to ask. Where did you get that shirt?”

                “This one? Ah, funny story actually… I ended up locked out of my apartment in the middle of the night due to a fire alarm and this guy helped me out. Said I could borrow anything, cause did I mention I was only in my underwear? Anyway, I left before he woke, and I’ve never been able to return it to him…”

                “You couldn’t go and knock on his door?” Pete asks, because something isn’t adding up.

                “Well, I almost did, but then I saw this woman leaving and decided it was maybe best not to rock any boats.”

                “Oh. Hmm. Well, I’m pretty sure he’d like that top back. It belonged to his father. He usually sleeps in it…”

                “You know him?”

                “Bradley? Yes. You want his number?”

                “I… sure.”

                “Okay. You just can’t ever tell him who gave it to you, okay?”

OPTION D (Version II – only ending where Mav and Bradley have a relationship)

                There’s a guy staring at him and it’s starting to annoy him a little. It’s even starting to border on a little creepy and he gives him the side eye. Instead of it putting the guy off it has the opposite effect and he’s now walking over, about to make fucking conversation of all things while Jake is just trying to work out.

                “Where did you get that t-shirt?”

                Okay, that wasn’t quite what Jake was expecting. Maybe a sly comment on his form, or body… not the almost threadbare shirt he borrowed from Bradley and has never been able to return. Also this guy is old enough to be his father, he’s not familiar enough with the brass on base to not give this man the potential respect he deserves.

                “Sir?”

                “Where did you get that t-shirt?” he repeats.

                “Uh…” Jake looks down at the shirt, and it’s the one he’d taken a couple of weeks ago from his night with Bradley. “From a guy.”

                “A guy.”

                “Yes sir.”

                “Sorry, I’m Captain Mitchell. I… Wait… your middle-of-the-night fire-alarm underwear-guy!”

                “Excuse me sir?”

                “I believe we have someone in common, and he’s going to want that t-shirt back. It belonged to his father.”

                “You know Bradley? I went looking for him, but there was this woman at the apartment.”

                “His friend Hilary, yes. He stays at her apartment whenever she’s out of town to look after her cats.”

                “Oreo and Cracker.”

                “Yes. Who I believe are to blame for shredding the note you left.”

                “What?”

                “They found tiny pieces, some of it chewed up. Not enough to make anything out of it. Trust me, I’ve heard this lamented to me far too many times in the last couple of weeks to not be very familiar with it all. Your first name is Jake isn’t it?”

                “Yes sir. Lieutenant Jake Seresin.”

                “Of course you are. I’m picking he has no idea you’re navy, because this would have gone a lot faster if he’d mentioned that.”

                “No sir, we didn’t exactly swap life stories.”

                That gets him a raised eyebrow and smirk and Jake flushes, not really sure who Captain Mitchell is to Bradley, but if what he says is true, then Bradley does want to see him again. That’s a swoop of positive feelings after a couple of weeks of feeling rejected.

                “Right. Stand just there. I’m going to take a picture and send it to Bradley, tell him I found his shirt… he was just as sad about the shirt as he was about you.”

                Jake blinks, the guy is taking his picture before he can even say anything, Jake doesn’t even know if he was smiling, probably looked like a stunned rabbit. He glances over the shoulder and the man, this Captain Mitchell, is cropping his face out of the picture completely, thumbing out I found something that I believe belongs to you, and pressing send before Jake has time to even think of asking for Bradley’s number.

                “Can I get his number?”

                “How about you come home with me and you ask him for yourself, hmm?”

OPTION E

                Jake wakes slower than usual, warmer, and he stetches and then freezes when something grabs his foot. His brain registers then, kitten and he smiles into the darkness, memories coming back and yeah… this is definitely a preferable way of waking up.

                “Mornin’…” Jake says, sliding his body over Bradley’s, naked skin sliding against his and he’s glad they’re both naked.

                “Mmm… Hi. Why are you waking me up so early?”

                “Well, I realized one of the few ways of getting my spare keys is to hunt down my friend who has them. And he goes to the gym early.”

                “Ugh. This early? Is there any way we can get your friend’s number which does not involve us getting up right now and doing a manhunt across the city?”

                “It’s not exactly the city, just two blocks.”

                “Is he listed anywhere as your emergency contact that we can ring and ask for it?”

                Jake opens his mouth and immediately shuts it. There is someplace he can ring which would maybe give him Javy’s number, or at the minimum pass a message on.

                “Actually, yeah. Well, they might not give me the number but they’d pass a message on for me.”

                “And can we ring them later?”

                “Yeah, we can definitely do that later…”

                Worst case, he can always try catching Javy at the gym tomorrow instead.

…            …            …

                Later, after another heavy make out session in bed, messy and leaving Jake wanting more, he takes Bradley’s offered phone and thumbs open the keypad. He’s going to ring the HR line for military service people, because there are surely people in worse positions than him that call up asking for weirder and wackier things than an emergency contact number. Even if Javy isn’t exactly his emergency contact, they can ring him and give him Bradley’s number. As he enters in the number he sees various contacts pop up and then;

                “Why is the number for the Military HR service line programmed into your phone?”

                “Because I'm a commissioned officer.”

                “Oh shit! Me too. Lieutenant Jake Seresin.”

                “Ha. Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.”

                “Wait… Bradley Bradshaw. You know Javy. Coyote. He flew with you.”

                “Coyote is your emergency contact?”

                “Well, he’s the guy that has my spare keys…”

                “Well, I already have his number. I was planning on meeting up with him later actually.”

                “Of course you were. Bradshaw. He was right.”

                “What?”

                “You are exactly my type.”

[itsagirlwithglasses]

A Shadow’s Fale — Chapter Four

Azriel x Pirate Female!Reader

CHAPTER FOUR

Word Count: +3,700

a/n: I'm sorry for posting so late, I had a few rough weeks! Hopefully I'll be posting more regularly soon! I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: Mention of scars, drinking

You had been called for a meeting at the River House the next morning. You were pretty sure it had to do with what Azriel had found out about you. 

Azriel. The most confusing male you’ve ever encountered. 

He was hot and cold. Fire and ice. His constant mood changes giving you whiplash. 

You had not seen him after your encounter the night before. Nor Elain. You had no idea what he meant and you were even more confused about what kind of relationship those two even had. No one seem to take notice or even talk about it. 

Rhysand had flown you back to the House of Wind and then requested this meeting you were about to have. He didn’t say anything else about it and you were anxious enough already as it is. 

“Are you okay?” Cassian asked still holding you as you flew together. 

“Hmmm?” You answered distracted. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine.” He laughed. 

“You’re a terrible liar.” You narrowed your eyes. 

“Can I ask you a question?”

“If I have the answer,” He smiled. 

“Are… Azriel and Elain mates?” 

Cassian gaze seemed to unfocus a little and his lips tightened in a line. The usual smirk gone as he became suddenly serious. 

“No.” He took a look at you as you nodded, then you were reaching the grass in front of a big mansion by the river and Cassian was putting you back on your feet. 

“Wow,” you looked around in awe, “This is beautiful… and huge.” 

“Y/N…” You looked at him once more, “Don’t mention it.” You blinked in understanding. 

“I won’t.” He gave you an apologetic smile and made you to follow him inside the house. 

You felt the wards as you walked through the door and you looked at the paintings on the walls, admiring. You knew that the High Lady was into painting but you had no idea she would be this good. 

“Are they all hers?” 

“Yes,” Cassian said simply, the smile, almost prideful, again on his lips. He guided you to a corridor that led to a set of double doors at the end. 

As he opened them he let you in and you inhaled deeply to see the people waiting inside already. 

Rhysand, Feyre, Mor, the female with the piercing grey gaze and… Azriel. 

“Welcome to our home, Y/N.” Rhysand’s voice boomed in the silence that was heavy in the air. “I believe you haven’t been formally introduced to my second, Amren.” He pointed to the female and you swallowed hard in recognition. 

“Amren, as in the horror bed time stories?” You spoke almost in a whisper and you saw the little grin she gave you. 

“I guess we’re both the same if we follow that logic girl.” She spoke, her voice a soft purr. “Except we are from two different sides of the spectrum. A pirate you say?” That made you chuckle. 

“I guess it depends, if the children really like Peter Pan they might resent me a little as well.” This made a few chuckles from the people around you and Amren simply sent her head back in laughter. 

“I like you, girl.” You gave her a grin as she saluted you with her glass on wine. It was definitely too early for wine but she didn’t seem to mind. 

“Now that introductions are done, we have serious business to talk about.” You nodded, “Y/N, you claim to have in your possession dread troves that were lost at sea,” You nodded again, “I allowed you and your crew to stay, shop and eat in my city, just like you asked, now I want to see them.” 

You looked around the room taking a deep breath. 

“I asked for an alliance.” You crossed your arms over you chest. 

“I’ll make you a bargain then,” He said darkly, his hands resting on the table in front of him. “You give me the troves, I let you and your crew go.” You snorted a laugh shaking your head in disbelief.. 

“No,” You replied and he narrowed his gaze as you mimicked him. “I’m going to fight in this war Rhysand, now you must decide if it’s with you or against you.” 

Silence fell once more in the room. 

“You sure have balls girl.” Amren said from your left but you kept the High Lord’s gaze.

“Are those your terms then?” Rhysand asked and you nodded. “I’ll send word for you when I make my decision then.” 

“You can’t possible be considering this.” Azriel’s voice came from you right. 

“Can I go now?” You asked ignoring the spymaster’s words as it somewhat hurt you. 

Rhysand waved his hand in dismissal. “Feyre, darling?” You watched as they clearly communicated something in their minds and then she walked over to you smiling. 

“Will you join me for a walk before you go?” You simply nodded leaving the room with the High Lady in tow. 

Rhysand might’ve told her to change your mind about this, but your mind had been made up ever since your father’s death. Hybern was your destiny to destroy. And no High Lord or Lady would take that from you. 

—

You walked alongside Feyre through the gardens of the house and stopped in a gazebo by the river. She sat on one of the benches and you followed suit. 

“I never knew happiness before I came to this place.” She said on a sigh and you looked at her intently. “I think if it wasn’t for him, I would be in a very bad shape by now.” 

“You mean Rhysand.” 

“Yes,” She was now looking at you, “Rhys is… a very good male, he doesn’t want you involved in this war with Hybern.” 

“Rhys,” You spat, “Doesn’t know me, or how much I need this, to fight them, to make them pay for what they’ve done to me, to my crew, to my…” You cut yourself off shaking your head. “I will not back off on this.” 

“I understand,” She said reaching out for you hand and giving it a squeeze. “I lost my father to Hybern too,” She smiled sadly, “During that first war, when we had to face them and we had lost all hope, my father showed up, sailing, bringing an army with him, he saved us somehow in the end… And yet, he was killed before we could even say thank you… or goodbye.” A stray tear fell on her cheek and you nodded in understanding. “I spent so much time hating him for not showing up… For not fighting and in the end he did… I know your father wasn’t the best of men… I’ve heard the stories but I also know you miss him… Even if only the good parts of him.” 

She knew exactly how you felt, clearly better than anyone else. You had bonded in a way you hadn’t expected. When she reached out to you cheek you didn’t even realize you had starting crying. 

“Hybern took way too much from us both, and I will talk to Rhys, we will fight this war, together.” She said pulling you into a hug and you welcomed it fiercely. 

A friend. In the midst of darkness you had made a friend.

— 

“If she wants to fight, then let her fight. She clearly knows the risks.” Mor said and taking a sip of her tea. 

“They are not trained, and let me not even start on, they are humans.” Rhysand said exasperated, “I’m not going to be responsible for their deaths.”

Azriel was staring at the tiled floor, lost in thought when Amren said. “What is it shadow boy? The people in the city can hear your brooding from miles away.” 

“Nothing.” He replied fast and Rhysand gave him a look. 

“What do you know?”

“It’s not certain yet, give me a couple days.” 

“What is it?” The High Lord insisted and Azriel adjusted himself on his feet. 

“I think they have some sort of magic… But I’m not sure how.” 

“Magic?” Azriel nodded.

“From what I saw, elemental.” Rhysand’s gaze turned dark, the inner circle members held their breaths waiting for orders on this new revelation about their guest. 

“Find whatever you can about it.” He took a deep breath thinking about his wife alone with the pirate. “Don’t tell anyone else about it, this stays between us.” 

“Feyre?” Mor questioned. 

“Not yet. If Y/N learns we know, she might turn on us. For now we play by her rules.”

“Until when?” 

“Until the troves are ours.” 

— 

Azriel left the meeting room going outside. He found her as easily as taking a breath. She had this beauty about her that made him flustered. That would make him think such ungodly thoughts he so deeply wished he could act on. 

But the rational part of him was screaming trouble. A human with magic? Why would she hide it from everyone if it was just regular fae magic? There’s history of half-fae, when humans and faes mated. Was that it? Was she embarrassed of her lineage to hide such a big part of it? 

Azriel wasn’t sure mentioning it to Rhysand had been a wise choice. He saw it as some sort of betrayal, and that’s why Azriel had been fighting himself over it. Was she a danger or a powerful weapon? 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Feyre approached him taking him out of his thoughts and he gave her a little smile and a tilt of the head. “What do you think about her?” She nodded towards Y/N who was still sitting in the gazebo looking at the Sidra.

“She’s trouble.” 

“I think she’s misunderstood.” Azriel cocked his head at his High Lady and she gave him a small smile. “Ever since she arrived everybody just assumed things about her… Yet, no one took the time to hear her out.” 

“You think we should ally ourselves to them, then?”

“I think they… she deserves a chance.” Feyre gave him a knowing look, “We all were given one.” She patted him in the arm and disappeared inside. 

Azriel took a deep breath looking at the female in the distance. She had her eyes closed and the sun was shining in her skin. She adjusted her hat in her head as she took a breath and then opened her eyes. Her gaze met his and her smile fell. Something inside him sank at that. Please don’t stop smiling. He wanted to tell her.

Realizing this he took a step back before disappearing into the shadows. 

He felt himself falling, not in the literal sense, but in the sense that would bring you to our knees and tear you to shreds. 

—

“We have a bookclub, me, Emerie and Gwyn, you should join us.” Nesta said encouragingly and you gave her a small smile. 

“I don’t want to be a burden.” 

“You are not! Meet us at 10 in the library,”  She said walking away into her rooms and you laughed shaking your head. 

You reached your own and entered taking your jacket, boots and hat off. You felt him before even seeing him. 

“Sure, you can come in.” You rolled your eyes as you turned locking eyes with the High Lord. 

“I gave this house to Nesta and Cassian but it is still mine, so I think I’m entitled.” 

“Sure,” You raised your eyebrows, “What do I own the pleasure of your visit Your Highness?” 

“I accept your terms,” He said, hands in his pockets, you furrowed your brows. 

“Just like that?”

“Feyre spoke to me, I understand you better than you think I do.” He let out a breath, “Do you wish to tell me more about it?”

You took a deep breath, Feyre had told him, or showed him, your conversation. So he knew your intentions, and you wondered if you were wrong about him altogether. If he was willing to accept your terms and let you fight alongside him, to finish Hybern, maybe you could trust him with the whole truth. 

You thought of Azriel, why hadn’t he mention it to his High Lord about your magic? Surely they would’ve confront you by now. Maybe you should hold on to that kernel of truth a little while longer… Just to be sure. 

“Feyre was very understanding… It felt… Nice, to have someone actually hearing me and not… Judging me, for wanting pay back.” You said carefully, he eyed you carefully. “My intentions are not malicious Rhysand, I only want my life back. I want to end them, I want to be free of this… Rage.” You shook your head not allowing your emotions to take over you. You felt your magic tingling beneath your skin and you took a few breaths controlling it. He looked you over curiously and you silently hoped he didn’t notice it. 

“Okay…” He said after a minute of silence. “When shall we retrieve it then?” 

“I’ll meet with my crew, we can do it in two days time.” He nodded in agreement and then disappeared. 

You took a shuddering breath and fell sitting on your bed and you cried. You let the emotions of the past few days take over and flow freely. 

—

You woke up abruptly from a dream about Hybern and your father. You sat up on your bed panting, a hand in your heart trying to calm yourself down. You had burnt the sheets around you and embers flew around you. 

The darkness outside told you it was way past 10, you had missed the bookclub with the girls. You felt so exhausted and you couldn’t focus on that right now. You looked around the room and screamed when you spotted Azriel in the corner of your room. Quickly covering your mouth and getting up from the bed you walked quickly towards him. 

“What are you doing here?” You scream whispered and he cocked a brow lookin you over. 

“I need to speak to you,” 

“It’s the middle of the night, can’t we talk in the morning like normal people?” You were flustered and a chill went through your back, the wind coming from the open window. You then realized that half your sleeping dress was gone and you quickly grabbed a robe to cover you better. 

“It’s important,” He insisted ignoring your panicked covering. 

“What could be so important that it can’t wait?”

“I want to know about your powers.” There it was. You swallowed and then let out a chuckle. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You know I know, and I know you know I know.” He purred coming closer to you. 

“Then if you know why are you asking me about it?”

“Are you half-fae?”

“No,”

“How did you acquire magic?”

“Family…” 

“You just told me you weren’t half-fae.”

“It’s… complicated”

“Try me” 

“Fuck…” You shook you head, “It’s stolen… alright?” 

“How?” You looked at him considering your options… Truth it is… 

You took a seat in one of the leather chairs and it did the same across from you. 

“A long time ago, my ancestors made a bargain with some high fae, they wanted immortality just like the fae. We had some elemental magic because of our side of witchcraft ancestors, however no immortality… The fae offered it to them but under conditions.” You took a breath licking your lips, “The conditions was that pirates had to stop stealing the sea and land treasures… However after the bargain was stroked, my ancestors broke it not long after… The high fae then cursed them, us, they took our access to our magic. My father found a plot hole when he allied himself with Hybern…” You got up and started pacing in front of him, “Pirates started stealing magic from the death… When fae die, their magic still remains in their bones… WIth a binding spell you can bind their bones to your skin and magic will transfer…” You took a shuddering breath removing the robe you had just put on. 

You then proceeded to removed your night dress standing in front of him only in your panties. He didn’t say anything. He had gone very still taking in what you were showing him. There were four scars, two on each side of your ribs. Ugly and salient, like they hadn’t healed properly. 

“He wanted his daughter to be his most powerful weapon… He didn’t want anyone to know until time was right…” 

“Your father did this to you?” His voice was so low you barely heard the pain in his voice. 

“They are the bones of four very powerful high fae who had elemental magic, air, fire, water and earth…” A tear escaped you and Azriel picked up your robe covering you up. 

“He deserved his death.” 

“I know.” Then Azriel hugged you and you sobbed in his arms as he held you tight. 

—

You knew by walking into the living room of the town house that the news had spread. Rhysand had accepted an alliance. However you did not expect to find you whole crew perched in the couches and drink and hanging out with the rest of the inner circle. You have a little smile as Bonny hugged you tightly and whispered in your ear how excited she was about all of this. 

“Your people sure know how to drink Y/N” Cassian chimed in making you laugh. 

“Well, yes, of course, but the real question is, can you keep up?” You winked at him making some of them chuckle. 

“Is that a challenge?” 

“Maybe,” you smiled and you heard Nesta mumbling ‘Mother helps us’ 

Soon enough Sebastian, Lobo and Ledo were face to face with Cassian and Mor. 

“We need one more to be fair,” Mor said eyeing the people around the room, “Az, come on” 

“Absolutely not,” He rolled his eyes and you looked at him amused. 

“You need to learn how to have some fun… Az.” He glared at you. 

“I don’t need to get drunk to have fun.” 

“You don’t need to get drunk at all, you just need to join, after all you are going to loose either way.” He looked at you with the challenge in his gaze and he took a seat next to Mor. 

“We don’t loose.” He simply said and then it started. 

Pint after pint of ale they all chugged it down. Your eyes were wide taking in Morrigan chugging it down with an easy you knew to not be natural. She clearly loved her drink and the amusement crossing her face told you she also loved the challenge. You took a look at your team as they emptied mug after mug. The score was tight and when Bonny called it time, your crew had lost for 5 pints. 

Cassian got up whooping in contentment picking up Nesta over his shoulder making her yelp and laugh. Morrigan was cleaning her lips with a victory smile and Azriel… He was smiling! Grinning more like it, but his mask was definitely slipping and his eyes… they were bright and set on you. You found yourself grinning back at him. 

After the talk and you calming down the night before, he left without another word. His demeanor felt… Heavy, confused and angry. At you or your father, you weren’t sure. But you knew anytime now the High Lord would know… and maybe you should come forward first, but as you eyes found his across the room, directly behind the spymaster you decided against it. 

Rhysand clapped him in the shoulder catching his attention and they exchanged a few whispered words. Azriel demeanor turned back into that familiar darkness and you looked away only to find Elain coming in your direction and settling down next to you. 

“Hi,” she spoke softly and you smiled a little at her distracted by the interaction.

“Hi…” 

“Feyre told me you will be going back to you ship tomorrow to retrieve some things… I still would love to come visit.” She asked politely taking you by surprise. 

You were still embarrassed by what she had seen. Not that you and Azriel were actively tangled but you could definitely understand the heated discussion could’ve been easily mistaken by something else… And even if nothing happened between the two of you… You knew something was up between the two of them, and it just made things so much awkward… 

“Uh… sure” you finally replied and she beamed. 

“Ah! I’m so glad!” She put a hand on your arm making you look at the contact point and giving it a squeeze. “I think we will be great friends!” She said and left you alone, confused. 

— 

“Tell me everything,” Rhysand’s voice boomed darkness as he settled down on his study. Azriel kept his back straight, sobering up fast from all the alcohol he had ingested. 

“I think we were wrong… About them.” 

“How so?” 

“Let me show you,” Rhysand only nodded easily entering the spymaster’s mind as he showed his the conversation between him and Y/N. 

“You sure?” The High Lord questioned. 

“I didn’t feel any deceit from her… And the scars,” He swallowed hard with disgust thinking back on them. On how they looked awful and distorted, painful. How they reminded him of his own torture. “You can’t fake those…” 

Rhysand nodded lost deep in thought. “What do you think I should do then?” 

“Let her fight.” 

“I’ll decide after we retrieve the troves… Only then I’ll be sure.” 

“Rhysand…” 

“I think you should stay away from her…” 

“What?” 

“You are feeling too much for her Az,” Rhysand stood up walking towards his friend, “She will only break you heart.” 

“I don’t… Have feelings for the pirate.” 

“You forget my gifts Azriel,” 

“She’s just a pretty face, I care for her as much as I care for the girls in the pleasure hall.” Azriel said coldly, pushing his true feelings away. Guarding himself, protecting his own heart. Not again. 

A gasp. They both turned their heads to door only to hear running steps. Azriel jaw locked in rage as he took the calm look on Rhysand’s face.

“You knew.” 

“It’s for the best Az…” 

Azriel shook his head in disbelief and turned stomping away. Trying to find her. Trying to find Y/N and explain… But what could he say? Nothing would change the fact he couldn’t do this right now. 

With a roar of rage he took the skies and flew, away. 

-----

I'm sorryyyyyyyy!!! Oh my, oh my, please let me know your thoughts!!! Rhysand is playing the devil here a little bit... What is going to happen???

Next Chapter

[mirai1269]

Mission for Love: Mind Control! Part 1

(Yeah so, I decide to just write a drabble, 'cause it was getting long. Also, this is going to be posted in multiple parts.)

Inspired by: @themuffin2649

The chimes coming from the entrace door made Vincent almost fall from the stairs. William, his pet pig followed him, happily grunting by his leg, then curiously sniffing the package his "dad" has brought into the house.

The red head, once in the safety of his room, didn't hesitate to open up the package. Inside, secured with tons of bubble wraps (into which William happily rolled into) was a helmet.

"This is it." Vincent mumbled under his breath. He picked up his pet and showed him his newest waste of mo- I mean, newest trinket.

"This, Will, is how you'll get another daddy, and how I'll get a cute boyfriend~!" Vincent announced with pride. The pig looked at him, letting out a confused oink.

"Now, does this thing work though? The last one was...ugh." Vincent thought to himself. Looking back at his pet, he felt a tug at his heart.

"Will, my son... I'm sorry."

After a bit of preparation (reading the miles long instructions), the device proved to be working. As reward for his cooperation, William was rewarded with a big bowl of carrots. Vincent, like a cartoon villain would, rubbed his hands together.

"Let's set things in motion~!"

The next day, very early in the morning, Leon was on his way to [MC's] house, a few happy skips slipping into his walking. He was so deep in the thoughts about the boy of his dreams it was a true miracle that he didn't bump into anything or anyone. Unfortunately for him, this meant he failed to notice the red head following him.

"Aagh!" Leon shouted in pain. His head was throbbing and stinging, along with his ears ringing. He felt his consciousness slipping. What was happening to him??? In a matter of seconds, Leon was standing on the sidewalk like a statue.

Vincent stepped out of his hiding spot, walked right in front of Leon and waved his hands in front of his eyes. No reaction. Right now, he was like a marionett puppet, waiting to be played with.

"The instruction said I'd be able to check his thoughts... let's try it! Maybe I can gather some blackmail material."

With the turning of a handle, Vincent was granted full access to the athlete's gallery of thoughts. At first, it was nothing out of the ordanary.

'School stuff', 'Ideas for dinner', 'Plans to make Vincent's death look like an accident', 'Basketball stuff', etc.

What caught Vincent's attention, was a door, labeled 'MC'. Opening it, he found himself in a room numerous times as big as the other sections combined!

'Confession plans', 'Date ideas', 'Memories', 'Scenarios'. There was even a section labeled 'Illustrations'. Stepping in, an art gallery welcomed him. There was everything. First kiss, first pet they'll own together... wedding suits...

Vincent stepped up to an interesting looking art piece.

"Is this the wedding revenue?! It looks so sad." Looking at the title, Vincent let out a relieved, but concerned sigh. It was Leon's and [MC's] joined tombstone. Pulling out a piece of rubber, Vincent earesed [MC's] name from the plan, smiling at his 'work'.

"Alright, enough horsing around. Let's get back to work!"

Meanwhile, [MC] was waiting for his "best friend", who never showed up.

"What's with him?" MC wondered. Newt was long gone to school, which made the brunet even more anxious.

"I better call hi-" [MC] almost dropped his phone, when the loud sound of a car's horn disturbed him. In front of his house was a familiar pink limo. One of the back windows rolled down, and an even more familiar face popped up.

"Good morning honey~!" Vincent chirped. [MC] felt his blood going cold. What's HE doing here??? Vincent never offered to drive the protag to school, did he?

"H-hello!" [MC] greeted back, his voice shaking. Vincent gracefully stepped out of the car and gave the scared boy a swift kiss on the palm of his hand.

"Oh honey~. I had a terrible dream last night... You were badly hurt by that... savage you call your friend. And you see, I figured it's best if I ensure your safety by giving you a ride to school!"

[MC] wasn't really convinced by Vincent's speech. The fact that Vincent knew his address, which he never gave him and which not even [MC] knew, paired with the possibility of getting locked up in a basement for the rest of his life was more threatening than the dream Vincent described.

"A-ah, how... thoughtful of you, Vincent! But, I'm still waiting for Leon-"

"The Neandrethal? I've seen him on my way here. He was at the train station. I think I even caught a glimps of him getting up on the train..." Vincent cut in, rubbing his chin, trying to remember. [MC] was shocked.

"He left? Without me?" He asked. Vincent clapped his hand together.

"Yep! Pretty sure it was him." Vincent confirmed with a smile. [MC] pulled out his phone in disbelief. This can't be true. But when he opened his contacts, he found that Leon had... BLOCKED HIM??? His confusion was evident on his face.

"Darling, what's wrong?" Vincent asked, in an innocent tone.

"This... this is unbelievable..." The brunet mumbled. Not only did a yandere, THE yandere that would hunt him down if he was to disappear avoid him, he also made sure [MC] wouldn't be able to contact him. WHAT THE FU-

"Honey, we're going to be late. Come on!"

With his thought going in all directions, [MC] sat beside Vincent and surprisingly they made their way to school.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End of part 1

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

So, here's an original story I wrote like 3 years ago...

I had a whole thing with this story back then, planning on everything that was going to happen in it (I still know what's gonna happen later), but I only ever wrote 5 chapters. One chapter is also really unfinished.

But, I thought, I am not sure if I'm gonna just let it rest on a google doc for all eternity. So, I have decided to post these on tumblr.

I'm thinking I'm starting with the first chapter, and if people are interested, I might post the other chapters too.

I wanna give some disclaimers first:

As mentioned, I wrote this like 3 years ago, so my writing has evolved since then.

This story is about six siblings, and one of them has a name that I wrote was "ridiculous". It's not really a ridiculous name in retrospect, it just sounded like it to 18 year old swedish me who had never heard the name before.

Yes. Yes, this is very based off a thing I love.

This story doesn't take place in the modern times, so no one has cellphones (only stationary phones located around the house). It's not said when it's set, though.

This is the first chapter, titled "Meet the Spins", and is essentially a character introduction chapter.

The day started with the birds tweeting early in the morning. But that’s not what woke Jessica Spins up from her sleep. It was the baby’s whining. “I’m coming, sch…” She climbed down from her loft bed and approached the crib that was currently right under her bed. It usually wasn’t, but due to the circumstances the baby had to sleep with whoever was in charge. And Jessica was the oldest, so she was the obvious choice. “Okay, sweetie, you had a bad dream?”

She picked up the baby and tried to rock her back and forth. The baby sniffled. Jessica was unsure what to do - she was still pretty tired herself. As she looked out the window she noticed the sun was coming up, so she might aswell get up.

Jessica Spins was the oldest out of six children. Yeah, six is a lot. That could be a reason why their parents decided to take a trip across the globe and leave all six children alone for a week. Jessica was 15, almost 16 now and had taken care of her siblings ever since an early age. Of course her parents didn’t put all the responsibility on her. They just simply asked her to take one of her little brothers to the park across the street so he could “play off all that energy” or change her little sister’s diaper once in a while. She had also been alone with her siblings during the times their parents went out for a date or just came home late from work, so them going on a one week trip was honestly like an extended date. It had already gone three days and everything ran on smoothly. Jessica promised to call them if something was wrong.

Right now, she was trying to feed the baby, who refused to eat the mashed apples or whatever it was.

“Come on, eat your breakfast!” Jessica tried, but was only met with whimpers.

“Wow, you’re terrible at this!”

In front of her now was Erica. Erica was 14 years old and took the role as the second oldest pretty well - she still had responsibility too, but with less pressure on her. That way, she could be more laid back and relaxed… and more fun.

“Good morning, Erica.”, Jessica sighed, “I’m trying to feed the little rascal here, but she won’t eat.”

“Yeah, that’s why I said you’re terrible at this.” Erica replied. She snatched the spoon from Jessica, “This is how you have to feed her.” She started to make some funny faces to the baby, making her laugh. As her mouth was open, Erica showed the spoon gently inside. The baby ate it without any problem.

“How do you do that?” Jessica asked.

“She just likes me more than you.” Erica shrugged, “In fact, she should have her crib in my room instead.”

“You know mom and dad wanted her in my room. Besides, you don’t have any space for a crib with all the things you have lying around.”

“She could sleep next to me! And we could cuddle all night.”

“You could move over and crush her.”

“No!”

“Yes, you move around so much in your sleep! It’s creepy, really.”

“What’s creepy? Is the ghost girl back in the walls again?”

That came from Darren, the third born of the bunch. He recently turned 12 and were, as their parents described it, “full of life”. He was very into the supernatural - like, very into the supernatural. He claimed he could see spirits and they had caught him multiple times trying to summon them in the attic (but they always stopped him before he accidentally summoned a demon). 

“For the last time, there was never a ghost girl in the walls.” Jessica said.

“There sure was!” Darren protested.

“You’re full of shit.” Erica said.

“Erica!” Jessica hissed.

“What? He is full of shit.”

“The only one that’s full of shit is the little pants pusher over there.” Darren said, pointing at the baby.

Erica did a quick sniff. “I’m pretty sure she’s clean.”

Darren glared at the baby. “The one time I try to make a joke you’re clean, you fucking-”

“Darren!” Jessica growled. “We do not swear in front of our younger siblings!”

“We do not swear in front of our younger siblings!” Erica and Darren mimicked.

“Good morning.” said a tired, but unsurprised voice.

“Good morning, Tim.” his three older siblings said in unison. Tim was Darren’s younger twin. When they were smaller they were more identical, but that was just because their parents thought it was cute to dress them in matching outfits and haircuts. The big difference came when they were old enough to pick out their own clothes. Tim dressed in more fashionable outfits. Ties, blazers, you name it. Darren on the other hand stuck to hoodies and dark sweaters with loose pants. Otherwise they had the same hair color, same eye color and were approximately the same height. The kids at the street would refer to them as “the prep and slack twins”.

Tim’s full name was Timothy, but he refused to be called anything but Tim, or only by a few people he’d allow, Timmy. He also had an interest in the supernatural, but was more interested in music. Specifically, older music that his parents and grandparents used to listen to. The children’s mother once bought a gramophone from an antique store for Tim to listen to old classics from before any of them were born. It was not like he didn’t like more modern music - he did, too. It was just the feeling of those old tunes… when he listened to those, he could feel like some old spirit entered his body and possessed him (in that way, he also believed in the supernatural, even if it wasn’t as hardcore as his brother).

“Hey Tim, want an egg?” Darren asked.

“In my face or in my mouth?” Tim replied with a suspicious grin.

“In your hair!”

“No!”

The twins ran around the kitchen, laughing. Darren chased Tim while holding an egg up in the air. Erica and the baby just giggled, while Jessica was visibly stressed and wanted to stop these shenanigans. Yeah, that wasn’t gonna happen… but she could try.

“Hey! We eat the breakfast, not throw it!”

“Okay, mom.” Darren said.

“No, she’s right.” Erica said, to everyone’s surprise. Jessica felt a bit calmer, thinking her sister was taking her side. Well… she did not. Because Erica soon picked up some toasted bread. “If you don’t stop throwing eggs, I will throw toast at you!”

Darren and Tim giggled and continued to run around like wild animals as Erica started to throw toasted bread at them. It all soon escalated to Darren throwing eggs at the walls and the baby getting some butter on her head. Jessica just tried to calm everyone down, but no one listened to her. They all yelled and shouted, until they noticed a little girl standing at the edge of the breakfast table.

“Oh…” Jessica said, “Good morning, Salome.”

“Did you sleep well?” Tim asked.

“Want some toast?” Erica asked.

“Or eggs?” Darren added.

Salome was the fifth born of the bunch. She was 5 years old and never said a single word. It was not that she couldn’t talk, she just… didn’t. She preferred communicating in other, more silent ways. Just like a lot of other five year olds, she had a bright imagination, which could lead to her easily getting overwhelmed by her surroundings. Even though she did not say a word she was the one who always calmed her siblings down. Jessica and their parents could try their best, but if a noisy sibling saw Salome stare at them with her innocent glare, they just… calmed down. It was like they felt embarrassed over causing so much chaos when they saw how good and patient she was. Also, they always felt… sorry for her. It must not be fun seeing all your older siblings yell like that. Darren was also a bit afraid of Salome - what if she secretly plotted to kill them all?

The youngest member of the family was, of course, the baby. She had a name, but the thing was that her siblings thought her name was absolutely ridiculous, so they just called her “the baby”. Now, all names feel different to different people, of course. What’s a beautiful name to someone might be the weirdest name to someone else. It all also depends on who you are and where you live. Some countries have names that absolutely no one outside that particular country is named. The Spins parents wanted to name their kids things that most people around the globe could pronounce and understand (that kind of backfired with Salome, as people were quite unsure if it was pronounced “Sah-lom” or “Sah-lo-mee”, or just something entirely different. “Sah-lo-mee” was the pronunciation the parents used, but it didn’t stop others to pronounce it differently). With their youngest child, they wanted something more unique, so they went all in.

The baby’s name was Millicent. Millicent Sunshine Rudy Spins. It was kind of a cute name. If you were a baby in the 1800s or perhaps in the very modern hipster times. The Spins siblings did not live in the 1800s or the very modern hipster times. They had to admit Millicent was kind of cute, but for some reason the children didn’t really want to call her that every time they mentioned her. Of course, they couldn’t always call her “the baby”, so Erica suggested they could call her “Millie” or “Mills”. When talking about Millicent’s middle names, well… all of the siblings had pretty unusual middle names. Just ask Jessica Rainbow, Erica Plumberry, Salome Jane Dot Constance… the boys had pretty common middle names however, but their middle names were before their first names for some reason. Hugo Darren and Hunter Timothy.

The six siblings ate breakfast until the phone suddenly rang. 

“I’ll get it!” shouted Darren and rushed to pick up. “Spins residence? Hi, dad!”

He held out the phone so all his siblings could shout “hi, dad!” and then returned to speaking to him by himself. “We’re just eating breakfast. Uh-huh? Yes… i’ll check! Hey Jessica, has the baby been sleeping?”

“She has.” Jessica said.

“She has! I’m sorry dad, but I just can’t say Millicent. It’s too- alright. You were gonna name her what? Oh gosh… okay. Yeah. Okay. Love you!”

“What were they gonna name who?” Tim asked.

“Our dear baby sister over here”, Darren said, walking up to Millicent,  “Was gonna be named Moonshine.”

“Moonshine Sunshine Rudy Spins.” Erica giggled.

The rest of the morning went on smoothly.  Darren snuck off to try summoning a spirit in Salome’s room, but got caught by Salome when she was going there to play. So he decided to try to hide and scare Jessica in the living room. Tim decided to take the bus to the local antique store and see if there was any old music stuff. Erica decided to spend her day with Millicent and was following her around the house.

“Millie!” Erica squeaked as she followed the little baby. “Where are we going now? Oh, upstairs? You can’t walk upstairs? Is your big sister gonna carry you? Yes! Hey, Millie! Mills! Little Mila, are you little Mila?” “Erica, what are you doing?” Jessica asked.

“Just talking to our cute little baby sister, that’s all!”

“Okay, but she needs to take a nap, so take her up.”

Erica groaned, “Uh, I know! That’s why I’m taking her upstairs now?” She rolled her eyes and made some mumbled groans to Millicent. “She doesn’t think I know it’s your nap? I’m gonna take a nap too, I can’t take Jessica’s bullshit anymore…”

Jessica sighed and turned back to the book she was reading. Everything was silent now, all her siblings were off doing something else. It was nice and calm in the living room. All nice and calm until…

“Bah!”

Jessica flinched as she heard the scream. Behind the couch she was sitting on was Darren, now giggling like a maniac.

“That could’ve been a spirit, I just wanted to prepare you.” he chuckled, “Also, the look on your face-”

Jessica frowned, “Darren, you little shit!”

“Oh my god!” Darren exclaimed. “You swore! You actually swore!”

Right then, Tim got home again and wondered why his brother was jumping around. Darren took his hands, “Jessica swore!”

“She did?” Tim asked.

“Darren, stop.” Jessica sighed, as her brothers jumped around the room.

“She swore!” 

“Jessica swore!”

“Well, don’t tell Erica, or i’ll kill you both. Okay?”

Suddenly the boys stopped jumping and nodded carefully, but still having gleeful smirks. 

Some seconds later, the phone rang. Jessica picked it up, as it was right next to the couch. 

“Hello? Hi, mom! Good! Good… yeah, the twins are playing and so is Salome in her room… Erica’s putting her down for a nap right now. Me? Just reading. Yeah… what? Wait, now? Today? Tomorrow? Why- has something happened? Can’t you tell me now? Okay… okay, yeah. I’ll tell them. Yes. Love you too, mom! Goodbye!”

“What did mom want?” Tim asked.

“She and dad are coming home earlier.” Jessica explained.

“Why?”

“She didn’t say why, she said they’ll explain when they’re coming home again.”

“So… when are they coming home?” Darren asked.

“...tomorrow.”

“Fuck, we have to clean the house!” Tim exclaimed and ran off.

The children didn’t know that this was the last phone call they would ever get… in this house.

So, I have not read this story properly until today... I so wanted to go in and edit a bunch, as I'm a better writer today, but I also wanted to leave it unedited, like a time capsule. While not much happened in this chapter, the rest of them will change drastically. If you're interested in reading the next chapter of this original story of mine, just tell me!

[youregonnagofaar]

happy ending myth; a steve harrington story

chapter 5. just a little bit of tenderness 

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: best friend!eddie munson, close friend!max mayfield, slowburn!steve harrington

a/n: this took a long time to post despite me having it written and edited thanks to me getting a three week sinus infection. i’m going to start releasing these on mondays from now on and i’m still not sure how many chapters this will end up being. i changed my url and have made sure to edit all links so they work properly for everyone wanting to start from the beginning. thanks again for the support and as always i do enjoy feeback ha :) 

summary: steve and you have a conversation about the night of the halloween party, max and you hug it out, the gang visits the creel house, you witness that steve and nancy do still have a tiny spark, robin does her best (as always), you have your first injury, and robin witnesses flirting behind the wheeler window.

warnings: mild violence, curse words, anxiety, an injury near an eye takes place, pls let me know if i missed anything

word count: 6,315

tag list: @evansflowers

Steve held your hand tightly as the both of you braced the chilly air outside. The sudden rush of cold felt wonderful on your body but also made you aware of all the places you were sweating. In embarrassment, you let go of his hand and giggled. “I really wish Max had warned me about how none of us are able to shower when facing these monsters.” Steve looked at you with a grin and nodded his head in agreement. Despite going through this a few times he had never remembered to just bring deodorant with him. However, over the years his smell had gotten worse. Probably due to so many punches to the nose since this, all started. The sun was just about to rise and the grass had frost on the tips. If someone had told you in High School that King Steve would be holding your hand on a morning like this, you’d laugh in their face. 

“Oh, it's been worse than this. Last time it was summer and I had a decent amount of the kids in some random car. Robin and I had just been beaten up by some Russian spies who were pissed we ruined their plans. So it smelt awful for the first few moments until my nose went numb.” Steve hadn’t realized how much he was saying until he saw your face fill with worry. There was so much you didn’t know about their past endeavors despite him feeling like you had been here all along. He placed his hands in his pockets and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry if that was too much.” It still confused him at how easy it was to tell you anything. Even though you looked at him in shock you still weren’t calling him stupid for saying so much at once. The comfort you made him feel scared him to his core. 

“No, no it’s not too much. I just didn’t realize all the things you’d been through. I am now getting the Halloween costume…uhh Risky Business!” You smirked at him big cause you were excited your brain could remember such a small detail of life before The upside down. The joke was also kinda bad since this was clearly more than risky. Thinking of that night made his cheeks warm for all the wrong reasons, but then he saw the face you made and felt a whole other warmth. It then hit him that he wasn’t sure if he had ever seen you at this party. He had eyes for only one person and drank far too much that night. What part of the night had you seen him? How many times had he already embarrassed himself in front of you? 

“Yeah, umm, what part of the night did you end up witnessing?” He was beyond nervous about your answer. Either way, it was probably a weird sight for you. He either only had eyes for Nance or was a total jerk in a terrible mood. 

You began to really think because for you the night wasn’t all that to remember. You left early because you were bored. Eddie had only shown up at the party to sell some drugs and then was ready to head out once the deals had been made. However, you did remember seeing a sad Steve getting a drink at some point in the night. He seemed upset but he looked so pretty and that made no sense to you at all. However, before you could even think of walking towards him, Tommy and Carol appeared. Not wanting to even hear her remarks about your costume you ended up leaving shortly after. “ I saw you getting a drink and looking like the saddest boy in the world.” You gave him a soft smile and shrugged. “Even if I had gotten the guts to walk up to you, it would’ve been horrible to do that in front of Carol.” You shook your head and made a noise of disgust, “She is one person I will never miss.” 

Steve let out a laugh that felt genuine and it scared him for a moment. “Well honestly, I’m glad you didn’t talk to me that night.” 

You took this moment to sit down and pat the frosted grass next to you. Steve took your cue and sat down, his shoulder touching yours, causing a warm tingle to rise in your spine. The whispers of Nancy breaking up with Steve for Johnathan were all around school after that night. It was no secret to all of Hawkins High that this was a huge blow to King Steve. The bruises and cuts on his face days after were further proof that something big had happened. Little did you know that he was fighting his own demons along with real monsters. 

“So umm, who did you dress up as that night?” Steve looked over at you with a smile wanting nothing more than to change the route of this conversation. That night no one understood your costume. Eddie had to cheer you up after he gave you a joint and finally cried about it. The night didn’t mean much to you the way it meant so much to Steve. 

“Oh, I dressed up as Ellen Ripley from Alien, but everyone thought I was just some mechanic.” You shrugged remembering the outfit that Mr. Munson had given you. It was from his old days as a mechanic and it worked perfectly. You had made your own name tag and everything, but the idea was lost on everyone there. 

“Dustin’s mentioned that movie a lot, but I haven’t been able to watch it.” Steve looked over at you and the way his eyes twinkled in the rising sunlight made your heart skip a beat. 

“Well, maybe one day I can show you the movie.” You weren’t sure if a time would ever come when the world would be calm enough to watch a film again, but the idea of showing Steve a favorite movie of your’s made you excited. You wanted so badly to curse your hormones but the way you felt around him covered you with a type of joy you couldn’t explain. 

“I’d really like that.” As he spoke the two of you just smiled a cheesy grin. A calm clouded your senses as the two of you looked into each other's eyes. Both of you were lost in the idea of how this date night would go. 

For Steve, you came out of nowhere. However, you had always known of Steve Harrington. No one who went to Hawkins didn’t know about King Steve. He was the typical pretty boy who was always going to be Prom King. You had found him to be good-looking, but the thing was, so did everyone else. He was all girls talked about and at one point in your teenage angst, you had found him absolutely annoying. The thing was, this wasn’t King Steve anymore. 

You were lost in thought until you heard the sliding glass door open from behind. Both of your bodies turned quickly as if there was something no one should see going on. The reaction caused Robin to stifle a laugh. 

“Hey, lovebirds! We gotta go! Nancy figured out that we need to go to the Creel house!” Robin's raspy voice filled the once-quiet air causing Steve and you to look at her with wide eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have drool on my face?” 

You and Steve looked at each other before rolling your eyes. “No, Robin there is no drool on your face.” You got up slowly and rubbed your sweaty palms on your jeans with a smile. “I’m going to see if Max needs me at all.” 

Steve watched as you walked away his heart feeling different than before. Maybe it was the way you listened to how he spoke or how your eyes lit up when you brought up things you liked, he wasn’t sure but he knew he was in for it. Robin was giving him a look that he knew would lead to questions he had no answers for. 

“So…what did I just interrupt?” The smirk on her face made Steve roll his eyes and wince. 

“She wants to watch that movie Alien with me. If all of this ever ends.” His shoulders slouched forward as he attempted to walk back into the Wheeler house. 

“Wait a minute, Steve, talk to me, I can see how you look at her. I see the way she looks at you. Are you actually going to make some type of move?” Robin was frustrated watching Steve aimlessly flirt with you but then she saw the look he gave her from the question and sighed. “Okay, no moves need to be made, but could you at least fill your best pal in on what is happening here?”

“I like her Robin, a lot, but Nance.” He let out an annoyed sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. Steve liked you more than he cared to admit, every time he spoke with you it felt like he was actually being heard. Yet, this was the first time in so long that he had Nancy smile at him again and that feeling sometimes overpowered all his senses. Even when he knew it wasn’t right because Nance had moved on. 

“Steve, you need to get over Nancy. She has moved on and you should too. Just like her, you are allowed to like someone else and I haven’t seen you look at someone like this before. Just do yourself a favor and try it out. Maybe Y/N is the right person for you to move on with.” Robin placed her hand on her best friend's back and smiled. “Can you just follow my advice for once in your life?” 

“Yeah, maybe I can.” He shrugged and looked at Robin with a soft smile before walking into the Wheeler household. His thoughts only on you and how badly he wanted all of this to work out. Before you, he would dream of Nancy as the mother of his children. They’d travel the world and he would raise them with love and care. Make sure that they knew they were loved and never leave them on their own for stupid business trips. But last night, he had that same dream but instead of Nance, it was you. You were in the passenger side of that big trailer as they traveled the world. He grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer and placed it on his left eye, praying that his thoughts would settle for once. 

You had already made your way down to the basement, Max had been down there for a bit just trying to plan out the mission to the Creel house. When you caught her eye she gave you a weak smile, because she knew that there was so much to explain. “Do you have a minute? I just… umm…need to talk to you about all of this.” Max felt she had pushed you into this life by just accepting your friendship. Everything felt doomed when a being with mind control could alter the course of your life in an instant. 

“Steve told me some stuff about last year in the mall. I guess he got beat up by some Russian spies?” Despite being confused, you knew that everything would not be explained. A decent amount of this was still a mystery to even the people who were deeply involved. “Max, listen you don’t have to explain too much to me. I know all of this isn’t really something that has the right answers.” You paused trying your best to come up with the right thing to say. “All I care about is keeping you safe. So wherever you go I’ll be there, okay?” 

Max almost broke down at that moment, because you were asking for nothing in return. It made her so angry that she had let you into her life. She felt she knew the risks and still allowed you to get close despite the warnings of danger. No one else was around so she quickly hugged you tight, letting only a few tears fall. “Thank you.” Her words muffled as she tried to gain composure back. 

Soon Dustin and Lucas were yelling at the two of you to come back upstairs. Max backed away, you fixed her hair and sighed. This was her typical reaction when displaying public affection. To distract her from the threat of someone seeing her vulnerable, you spoke up, “So off to the Creel house?” The Creel house was an old abandoned home that held its own lore of why it looked that way. As a child, you heard some kids saying it was because the man who once owned it, killed his whole family. Now that you had more information, it appeared it wasn’t that clear-cut. 

“When Vecna had me, I got to some area that he didn’t want me to see. I couldn’t sleep last night so I started to draw what I could remember. Turns out, Nancy has seen the door before.” As Max spoke you tried your best to connect the dots. “Oh and after all of that, we have to bring Eddie some food. He must be starving.” She rolled her eyes when bringing up Eddie's hunger. That problem seemed so small compared to the one she was facing. Of course, you agreed but you still worried about Eddie. He was the only constant in your life and this had been the longest the two of you had been apart. 

Despite not understanding everything, you nodded your head and made your way upstairs. Everyone was ready to go as they rallied into the car. You ended up being seated with Dustin and Steve in the back, in an area where most people kept their luggage or an extra tire. The two boys let you in first and you did your best to take up a little room. Once everyone settled Nancy began to drive to the Creel House. Steve had decided to take the space next to you and Dustin was sitting right in front of you. You decided to place your legs against your chest, wanting to take up the least amount of room but also to control your breathing. As you tried your best to get comfortable you tried to connect what you could. Hawkins was built on some weird fault line for the supernatural. A young girl named El was the reason all of this happened but she appeared to have never meant this type of harm to anyone. Barb and Will seemed to be the first two victims but Will managed to survive. Each year something new would emerge and it was more hostile than the creature that came before. Somehow all of it was connected to the game Eddie loved to play, Dungeons and Dragons. Despite them telling you about it all days ago due to the violent events, it was hard to understand. 

“Dustin, you sit with Eddie at lunch right?” As you spoke Steve glanced over at you. Trying to figure out what was going on in your mind. Dustin nodded and you furrowed your brows. “Did you see him with Chrissy that day?” 

“Nope, I’ve never even seen those two interact before so it was weird to hear he was with her.” As Dustin spoke you began to pick at your cuticles. This was an anxious habit that you had never seemed to break. The uncertainty of it all would randomly rise in your chest, making it feel as if it was hard to breathe. You had two big fears in life which were: the unknown and ending up all alone. Somehow it seemed the Upside Down had both those fears intertwined. 

“He must’ve met with her in the woods after school. Vecna must’ve been really messing with her if she ended up needing drugs.” Steve watched your nervous hands after being caught up in the adorable wrinkles that formed on your forehead and realized that you would end up hurting yourself. He placed his hands over your’s and it caught you off guard for only a moment. Once you looked over and saw his warm eyes and soft smile your shoulders seemed to relax once more. A soft smile soon formed on your lips just from the comfort he brought. Dustin watched with confusion but he was also very intrigued. If anyone wanted Steve Harrington to move on, it was Dustin Henderson. The curly-haired boy watched his best friend pine over many people before. It had gotten worse since Steve got a job at Family Video. So to witness the man finally make moves was a sight to behold. 

Dustin cleared his throat and began to speak trying his best to get more information out of you. “Y/N, why haven’t I seen you at the D&D campaigns?” His tone was somewhat accusatory but you could tell from his smile that he meant no harm. A new type of smile covered your face before you looked back over to Dustin. Despite hearing Eddie and his friends talk about you, you had never shown up at a campaign. You knew what he was trying to do because it was clear that he and Steve were close. From what you heard about him from Eddie and the fact that he was close with Max, it was obvious he was trying to get as much information out of you as possible.

So you smiled at the question and shook your head no. “I suck at that game no matter how many times Eddie has tried his best to teach me. However, he has yet to read a Jane Austen novel so I guess we have always been even.” Eddie was told to read Emma just once and in return, you would attempt to join the game but he could never do it. Since it wasn’t for the lack of trying, you did let him explain the rules once but you couldn’t grasp it. 

Dustin let out a laugh as the image of Eddie reading Jane Austen came into his mind. He seemed like a really nice kid and you could tell why Eddie had grown attached to him. Due to your work schedule, you were never able to meet Dustin before. To meet him now under these circumstances made you feel uneasy. Soon, Nancy had reached the Creel House causing half of the group to get out of the car. Dustin unlatched the back and made his way to Max and Lucas’s side. You and Steve sat there for a bit longer looking at the house you were meant to enter. 

“So I’m guessing this is the least terrifying thing you’ve seen since getting into this mess?” Your voice was soft as you looked at the boarded windows. 

“Umm no, this is still just as terrifying to you as it is to me.” It was some cosmic curse how comfortable you felt next to him despite all the scary things happening. His fingers ran over your’s before he spoke again. “You ready?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Steve squeezed your hand before helping you out of the back. Max had her eye on the two of you as you both walked closer to each other before standing in front of the house with everyone else. 

“Yeah, that’s not creepy…” Steve spoke up and Robin gave him a knowing look before he made his way up to the door with Nancy. As they began to take the nails off the boards on the door he looked at Nancy. “What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?” His tone was different than how it had been in the car. He sounded confused and annoyed about the situation. 

“We’re not sure. We just know this house is important to Venca.” Nancy was focusing on trying to get the boards off the door. Even though she looked tiny, she was strong. Your eyes would trail from Steve to Nancy watching as they worked together. 

Being the newest member of a group of people who had so much shared trauma was difficult. Everyone knew each other and the banter between them all seemed to flow naturally. It felt lonely, during these times you wished Eddie was around. You missed him and the way he was able to calm your nerves with his horrible jokes. You began to get lost in thought as the rest of the group was focused on getting into the Creel house. It wasn’t until you heard the loud thud of the boards that covered the door that you were sent back to reality. 

The door thudded onto the concrete, causing you to jump a bit. You watched Max as she looked at the single red rose stained into the glass. Her whole face had changed into something more serious. Steve was rattling the doorknob “It’s locked. Should I knock and see if anybody's home?” 

“No need.” Robin chimed as you all faced her. She was holding a brick in her hand. “I found a key.” She smirked before throwing it straight into the glass part of the door. The hole it created was big enough for Steve to reach in and grab the handle from the other side. As the door opened, you held your breath, unsure of what this house would look like after all those years abandoned. The group of you entered in a single file line. It was dark and dusty, typical for a house that hasn’t had a tenant in years but there was something bad about this house. You heard Lucas talk about the electricity but your mind was racing as you tried to understand why this place felt so awful. 

“Hey, guys…” Max was now in front of an old grandfather clock, her flashlight shining on the dirty glass. “You all see that right?”

Dustin and Steve answered her with a yeah, but Nancy looked at her. “Is this what you saw? In your visions?” Max only nodded her head yes in response and you got closer to her just in case. 

“I mean it's… just a clock, right?” said Robin as she began to get closer to the clock everyone was gathered around. Her hand wiped the dust off the glass. “Like a normal clock.” 

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” Steve was confused and you could see his eyebrows furrow as he spoke. “Maybe he’s like a clockmaker or something?” 

“I think you cracked the case, Steve.” Dustin was clearly being sarcastic causing Steve to give him a glare that made you smirk. 

“All I know is the answers are here… somewhere.” Nancy was sure of something and none of you could deny the feeling you all shared. Something happened in this house, something important. “Okay, everyone stay in groups. Robin, Y/N, upstairs.” As Robin saluted you nodded your head. You gave Steve a little wave before he let out a sigh that made Dustin roll his eyes. The two boys began to banter as the rest of you made your way to different areas of the house. 

As you looked around the creaky house, you felt a sudden rush of sadness. It looked like the whole family had just up and left. They didn’t even take family photos. You picked up one of the picture frames and it showed a once-happy family. Because of how you grew up, you knew what it was like to have your world shifted in one moment. Nancy and Robin had noticed you looking sad and made an effort to get your attention. 

“So, Y/N, do you still work at the bookshop in town?” Nancy’s voice caused you to break out of your sadness and smile softly at her. 

You placed the photo back where it was and turned around to face Nancy. “Yeah, I’ve been working there since graduation. I think I saw you there once, dropping off the school newspaper.” 

“Oh yeah, it’s normally…” Nancy’s voice trailed off as she began to think of her dead friend. The look on her face caused you to try and change the subject quickly. You couldn’t imagine losing the friends that Nancy had. First, it was Barb and now it was someone she sure didn’t spend a lot of free time with but they worked closely on the paper together.

“Umm… so what happened to this family? Did you get any information from that visit to Pennhurst?” The question broke Nancy out of her sad trance. If there was one thing you remembered about Nancy Wheeler it was her ability to always know more than anyone. Robin, Nancy and you were all walking up some stairs as she was about to explain Steve burst out in front of her with a look of distress covering his face. 

“Whoa, Woah! What’s wrong?” Nancy looked concerned as Steve started to dust himself off frantically. 

“There was a spider.” He was out of breath as he spoke. 

“What?” She looked both concerned and confused at the same time. Of course, there were spiders, this place had to be filled with them.

“It’s a black widow” He quickly ran to the handle and slammed the door shut. “Don’t go in there.” 

“Oh, oh. Wait just..” You watched as Nancy began to pick at Steve’s hair he was acting frantic about a possible spider in his hair. He kept moving forward and Nancy had to tell him to stop several times until he finally listened. You watched her take a web out of his now messy hair and his whole face lit up as she did so. The whole scene made you feel nauseous and Robin could tell.

“If there is a spider in there you won’t find it till it lays eggs and the babies spill out.” As she spoke, she looked over at you trying to get you out of whatever mood you were now in. 

“What is wrong with you?!” Steve said his voice filled with annoyance and Robin’s only reply was a chuckle before grabbing your arm and leading you away from the scene. 

This left Steve to begin babbling to Nancy letting her know that Robin and he were just friends. Which made you feel even sicker because if he was telling Nancy these things, it meant he still loved her. You understood if he was, it just hurt that for a moment you had actually believed he could possibly like you. When Steve and Nancy began to date everyone talked about it. The two seemed to be the perfect couple, the brains and the beauty. 

“Platonic with a capital P!” Robin who was now several feet ahead of Nancy and Steve spoke up, giving you a little poke on your side to cheer you up the best she could. She wanted to punch Steve for being such a dingus when it came to Nancy but she knew he needed to really figure that out himself.

“Yep, thank you.” His voice had never waivered still full of the same annoyance he felt earlier. Nancy was still getting the rest of the dust and webs out of his hair.

You couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation since Robin had done her best to pull you away from it. Robin could sense the uneasiness brewing inside you so she led you a little further away before finally speaking. “You know, Steve, he thinks he still loves her.” 

The words hit you with a pang in the chest. You turned to look at Nancy and Steve before looking back to Robin. “It looks like he’s pretty sure about it.”  There was no way you could get between that and maybe there was no need for you to even try. Sure, maybe he did like you but how were you sure that it wasn’t just all the excitement of meeting someone new? Yes, he made you feel comfortable but that didn’t mean it was going to be anything more than friends. 

“Well, Steve Harrington has always looked to be many things….and well a lot of it he isn’t.” Her words were soft and you could tell this was a more meaningful conversation. Robin was getting at something deeper but at the moment it didn’t quite make sense. There was far too much on your mind right now both Max and Eddie were in danger. 

“Those two have a history I can’t really compete with. Max, she’s in danger and Eddie is framed for murders. Plus I don’t want to get my hopes up.” The last words caught you and Robin by surprise. You did like Steve a lot but there was so much going on right now and if he did like Nancy maybe that’s just how this is meant to be. 

Robin was about to say something but then suddenly Max yelled from below. Since being on high alert with anything Max related, it didn’t take you long to run down the steps to where she was standing with Lucas. 

The sun had set now and all of you were now in the living room of the Creel house. The chandelier was turning on and off again as if it were a heartbeat. “It’s like the Christmas lights,” Nancy spoke and you realized there was another thing you had missed in this journey. 

“The Christmas lights?” Robin decided to ask the same question you had on your mind.

“Yeah, when Will was in the Upside Down, the lights… came to life.” Max was whispering and it caused you to feel uneasy. 

Lucas then spoke up.  “Vecna’s here…in this house. Just on the other side.” Soon the light stopped buzzing causing all of you to look around to see if anything else was glowing. 

“I think he just left the room.” Robin blurted out. The house was much darker now causing you to get closer to Steve who happened to be right next to you. It wasn’t that you were afraid of the dark, it was just this dark was something else. 

Max began to eye the room with a bit of fear. “Did he hear us?”

“Can he see us?” As Steve spoke, he got closer to you in fear of what was around him. It seemed you both felt the same way about being close. How it offered the both of you a type of solace that was hard to find anywhere else. 

“Headphones,” Lucas ordered looking over to Max. It didn’t take long for her to quickly place the headphones back on her ears and turn the volume up as best she could. 

Nancy looked like her brain was going into overdrive before finally speaking. “Wait, wait, everyone turn off your flashlights and spread out.” 

“We’re not going to be able to see if we turn off our flash… lights,” Steve muttered. “Jesus Christ.” You grabbed his hand quickly and squeeze it as if to say that you were there and it would be just fine. It caught him off guard and he was never able to settle into the feeling. 

“I got him!” Robin walked into another room that was close to the stairs. Her flashlight flashed the same way the chandelier had earlier.  “I had him!” 

Steve’s flashlight began to go off causing both of you to let go of each other's hands. However, you never left his side as you began to journey up the stairs. It wasn’t until he reached the landing that the light died back down. “Shit, I lost him”

“No, you didn’t,” Max chimed in, still able to hear everything despite Kate Bush blaring from her headphones.

Everyone was walking so closely that it was almost as if you had one mind. As everyone walked further up it became clear the source of this was in the attic. Robin was already cursing the idea of this because, of course, the creepy things happening had to be sourced from the attic. Dustin was soon muttering but curiosity took over every sense in your body. There had to be some key as to why this place showed up in Max’s trance. Even though it scared you deeply, it was far more important to keep Max safe.  The attic was dark and smelt of rotting wood, the only source of light was a giant window that made the house look menacing. This was a scene out of a horror movie and everyone had seen enough of them to know that the ending wasn’t going to be ideal. There was only one light fixture for the space and it began to turn on and off at the pace the other lights had done before. Everyone stood underneath it watching as it began to make a buzzing noise that grew louder over time. An uneasy feeling washed over you as the noise grew louder, you hadn’t been this scared since seeing Max levitating in the graveyard. Something was here but no one could see it, yet each one of you knew it was Vecna. Suddenly you heard a pop and the glass from the flashlight shattered into tiny pieces all around your face. Luckily, the sound caused you to pull your head back so you only had a few cuts on your cheeks. Max and Steve both looked at you with concern until it began to happen to the rest of the group. 

It became clear at that moment after the flashlights were broken and the light above burst that Vecna was drawing a lot of power. As everyone walked down the steps and back into the car you began to rub your flannel on your cheek. A few of the cuts stung and Steve kept telling you to keep your pressure on the cut so it would stop bleeding. Despite the group being tired each one of them noticed how he was so concerned about your well-being. In the back of the car, he took the time to check for any lingering glass that could infect the cuts. Dustin was his assistant nurse holding a flashlight up so Steve could get a good look. The way Steve was dotting on you would’ve normally caused you to be embarrassed but your body felt heavy and your mind was fuzzy. So instead you watched him in a daze as he cleaned and sanitized your wound. This reaction would’ve worried him years ago but he had suffered enough from this world to know that it left shock. The kids were too tired to enter the store so the older members except for you decided to go in real quick and grab some food for Eddie. Robin, Nancy, and Steve all insisted you stay in the car and watch over the kids.  By the time they had gotten back, the kids were fast asleep in the weirdest positions but you watched Max as she rested. 

On the ride back, everything in you began to process what had just happened. Steve kept looking at you trying his best to figure out what was going on in your head. Steve had no idea you saw the way his face lit up when he was with Nancy. He didn’t even notice his face had lit up that way in the first place. Yet, the way Robin was so sure about Steve not loving Nancy confused you. The main thing you were worried about wasn’t Steve Harrington, it was Max Mayfield. The summer the two of you met was so life-changing. For years, it felt that you were just doomed and it wasn’t possible for someone with so much damage to help anyone younger. Max had proved you wrong and you wanted to do everything in your power to keep that safe. The cuts seemed to become numb as time went on, it was possible that you just already gotten used to the pulsing pain. When Nancy finally made it back to her house everyone piled out of the car without saying a word. Except for Steve who had pulled you aside as the rest made their way to achieve some sleep. 

“Hey, are you okay? You seemed kinda lost in the car and, listen I get that feeling. This world involves a lot of shocks and you also just got some nasty cuts from that flashlight.” Steve had this habit of rambling even when comfortable. There were just too many thoughts going through his mind all at once and so little time to get them out. Taking a deep breath you looked at him, his face covered with genuine concern that made you understand how he got the title Mom from the kids. 

“Steve, I’m fine, just worried about Max. Thank you for cleaning me up in the car. Dustin and you really would make a fine pair of nurses.” As you spoke his eyes grew wide as if he was confused until it hit him and he let out a small laugh. Once he finally laughed, you giggled and smiled at him. “Don’t worry about me, I’m tough I promise” He knew that you could handle yourself, and yet he still felt the need to stand in the way of anything that could cause harm. Before heading inside, you placed your hand on his shoulder and gave him another warm smile. He watched as you walked into the Wheeler house and ran his fingers through his hair. A sigh of relief left his lips as he realized that Robin hadn’t been there to witness that interaction. Then he heard a loud bang on the window and saw Robin giving him a thumbs-up causing him to roll his eyes. 

[twilight-resonance]

Obstacle Course

This is a post about my brain. That's what you were here for, wasn't it? Well, whether or not it was, that's what I'm here for ultimately, so that's what you get.

Dude, sometimes my brain feels like a fuckin' obstacle course. I was sort-of parsing through how I might describe to someone the way that my brain works - or rather, I was actually parsing through how I might describe how my sleep works, and that's intimately connected with how my brain works. Always has been, always has been.

You see, different parts of my brain are active or "on" at different times of the day. And if I were to utilize the whole spread of those parts of my brain, I would only sleep from 3AM-6AM. This is part of why, you see, I had some terrible sleep problems for years - I was down to about four hours a night and dwindling, probably bottoming out on that 3hr stretch. I had to go to therapy to learn to sleep, and it was a whole thing.

More and more I find that a lot of organizational work has to happen in the morning - anything to do with planning, sequencing, deciding, etc. If I wait too long - usually somewhere in the 12PM-2PM range, but it can kick in as early as 11AM - a lot of the self-conscious, self-watching parts of my brain come online and actively prevent that organizational part of my brain. Or rather, it's there the whole time; but my brain has the right resources it needs to fend those things off earlier in the morning.

Afternoons are good for grinding. If I've already gotten a good headstart on a project in the morning - its sequence and scope laid out, all the problem-solving around any rough edges already done, etc - afternoon is when I have the energy and can just go and go and go. If I haven't already started working, good luck - what takes me 15min in the morning takes me more like 2 hours by afternoon, which seems extreme but is the regrettable state of things up there.

Evenings are good for relaxing. My brain is not good at relaxing, so this is important - a time when it can rest, and relax, and wander and play a bit rather than churn and chug away. It's the breathing room that keeps everything else happy.

Then, come about midnight - particularly once all the lights are out and everyone has gone to bed - two things happen. One is that the reflective, emotional part of my brain comes online. This is the part that is processing my place in the world and is in touch with how I'm feeling and what I'm doing and why; and is when it's closest to the surface for me to gently work with and witness. This is hugely important for my ability to operate the rest of the time - if I don't do this, everything during the day gets clogged up with lots of messy emotions and blocks.

The other part is that there are a lot of inhibitions that drop - the much more focused, planning-oriented part of my brain - goes to sleep; which means that creativity gets free rein. I do my best creative work in the deep night like this, and when I don't get that time, what I come up with for work tends to be a lot more trite and semi-recycled. So that's important too.

...So therein lies the problem. All of these things are important: if I don't get them all, all the other parts suffer. But if I get them all, I get a handful of hours of sleep a night. Like I said, I did this for about seven years - it started at six hours of sleep a night and slowly dwindled from there. I used to hallucinate semi-regularly from the sleep deprivation, in all kinds of fun ways. My favorite was the time that I was driving and suddenly everything flattened out; and instead of becoming closer, things got bigger instead. I was very lucky that I was driving a route I'd driven a million times, because I can't imagine trying to drive under those conditions on a completely unfamiliar road. Got there safe, and it was an interesting experience; but yeah, no thanks.

Like I said, I eventually went - well, got sent - to therapy to fix the problem. There were a few environmental things to help the process along - switching from a white overhead lamp to a yellow side-shaded lamp to mimic sunset, things like that - and the other semi-helpful thing was finding something that was (a) intellectually demanding, and (b) boring. For me, that was math. When it was time for bed, I used to have take a math textbook and a notebook and lay in bed doing math in bed for an hour-plus or however long it took to get sleepy. Can you imagine?

What actually ended up helping were two things. One, melatonin. I'm not a huge fan of drugs for solutions to this kind of problem; but this is one I found actually worked. It didn't take a lot - just a few mg, wait half an hour, and then the magic happened. I would get sleepy. It didn't make me pass out, it didn't make me stupid - but it made me feel like I had a choice. I could choose to go to bed, when my brain wouldn't let me otherwise. It took a few rounds of that to sort-of teach my brain how to wind down and prepare for sleep, and for the most part i haven't needed it since - I just needed those training wheels.

The other thing that helped was having someone I wanted to go cuddle in bed with. That was motivation to actually go to bed when the time came.

I like my sleep nowadays. Sometimes I sleep too much. I'm still ridiculously stupid-functional on no sleep, and probably always will be - that feels like something that was just broken into me over the course of those seven years.

...Of course, I feel like my brain doesn't work nearly as well as it did those years ago. Some of that is the Brain Damage, but some of it is that I don't get access to all those parts of my brain regularly. I'm figuring it out, slowly - figuring out how to wrangle The Obstacle Course and all the ridiculous trappings that come along with it. But that's how it works up there, and that's how sleep is so intrinsically tied to it, and that's why I'm going to have to battle sleep problems for the rest of my life.

Because you see: the reason I didn't want to sleep is because there were Things To Do. Stories and poems to write, things to learn, crafts to work on, planning to do, projects to work on... all of which were infinitely more interesting than sleeping. Why waste that time when you could do things?

(I am haunted by this to this day. I will always be haunted by this. Y'all know where Xitli comes from, right?)

So that's the obstacle course. And that's just one part of it. I've talked before about all the other things I've had to learn how to make my brain work - making sure I'm engaging in enough new processes and information and experiences and other "input", fucking with tiny variations in the lighting and where I'm sitting and what I'm listening to, all kinds of conscious run-downs on bodily needs, picking a particular scent to waft through the room on a given day... It goes on and on and on, and I swear it's nevereneding.

So that's me. Welcome to my brain. Guess what time it is now? You got it! 1AM! Tracks, no?

[the-flaming-nightmare]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you very much for the tag, @anewkindofme! 💙

It was a bit of a tough decision to make on which of my thousands of WIPs to choose from lmao, but here's a sneak peek of the next installment of A Bright Life:

A worried frown marred Gil's face as he watched Malcolm from his office window.

The consultant sat at his desk, working on the last of his paperwork from the Tatiana case, and looking far more exhausted than what was normal for Malcolm. If Gil were being honest with himself, the kid looked terrible. His usually lively, shimmering blue eyes were dull and glazed over, and if the pink flush on his cheeks and the light sheen of sweat that clung to his forehead was anything to go by, he was likely suffering from a fever. It also didn't escape Gil's notice how Malcolm would grimace in obvious pain whenever he put too much pressure on the palm of his bandaged hand. When Gil had asked him about it, Malcolm just said he accidentally cut himself on some broken glass and (like always) had refused to elaborate any further than that. It was unfortunately becoming abundantly clear to Gil that Malcolm may have not been caring for the wound in the way he should have been.

Gil peered down at his watch to check the time. They still had two hours of their shift left to go, but Gil had already gotten done with his paperwork, and he highly doubted Malcolm was even going to have enough energy or strength to finish his own. There wouldn't be any harm in leaving a couple of hours early.

With his mind made up, Gil gathered his paperwork into a neat stack before pushing himself away from his desk and standing. He grabbed his long, grey coat from where it hung on the back of his chair and slid it on. The lieutenant then picked up the stack of papers before snagging his son's own coat off the couch on his way towards the door. However, when he opened it, he was met by one of his detectives–who wore a worried expression similar to his own.

"Hey, Dani," he greeted. "I was just going to go drag Malcolm away from his desk and head out a bit early for the night. Did you need something, though?"

"Well, he's actually what I came to talk to you about. JT was going to go on a coffee run, so I went to go ask Bright if he wanted anything, but before I could even get close enough to ask, he bolted towards the bathrooms."

Gil turned his head to look through the blinds of the window once more. Sure enough, Malcolm was nowhere in sight.

"He really didn't look well, Gil. He hasn't all evening." Dani sighed. "I'm worried. He looked fine this morning, but it's like a switch flipped once the sun went down, and he suddenly looked like death rolled over."

Gil looked back at her and said, "Yeah, I noticed that, too. I'm pretty sure he's had a fever since the nightclub."

The kid may have been able to act like everything was fine during Joey and Axel's arrest–like he wasn't overheating in his coat and swaying on his feet after the fact–but Gil knew better. There was almost nothing his son could hide from him, especially when it came to his health.

"He did look pretty sweaty after we got back. And the temp outside isn't exactly scorching."

"I have a feeling he hasn't been taking proper care of that cut on his hand and now might have an infection. It would definitely explain the fever and what I'm not assuming the nausea." Gil exhaled a deep, heavy sigh. "I thought about just taking him back home with me and cleaning his cut myself and giving him some ibuprofen, but I'm starting to think a trip to Urgent Care would be a safer bet."

"Here, let me take those for you–" Dani gestured for him to hand over the stack of papers in the crook of his arm, which he gladly did–"Go take care of Bright."

"Thank you." Gil gave her a small but grateful smile. "I promise I'll keep you posted on his condition," he added, already knowing the answer to the question she didn't voice out loud.

"I would appreciate that. Thanks," she replied, returning his smile before turning and walking away to turn his reports in.

Gil quickly made his way in the opposite direction of the men's room, trying not let his mind conjure up worse case scenarios of what he might find when he got there. No matter what condition or state of mind he found his kid in, Gil had to keep a level head and not allow his worries to pull him from the here and now.

Without a second of hesitation, the lieutenant pushed the bathroom door in once he finally arrived. He looked over at the stalls, gaze immediately zoning in on the only stall door that was partially closed. Setting his son's coat down on a dry section of the sink's counter, Gil walked over to the stall.

"Malcolm?" Gil softly called out as he drew closer, not wanting to startle the younger man or make him think he was someone else.

The only response he received was a groan from inside the stall.

Tagging (if ya wanna): @angelique-of-the-volturi-guard, @thegoeticcleric and @snarkythewoecrow

[aether-link]

I’m being THAT person rn because it bothers me lmao. VENT POST BTW.

Steam usage is a fire benders trait. It’s not actually a water benders trait.

“Are you fucking stupid you shit head?!” You say kindly <3

No, because my defence. There are 4 people we see using steam, Zuko, Iroh, Roku and Sozin. Zuko is first seen using it to get himself free from Katara’s ice in the northern siege, blowing the steam out of his nose. The 2nd time is from Iroh. When Iroh was taken hostage by earth kingdom guards, he makes a commotion before blowing steam out his nose onto the cuffs he wears. The 3rd time we see steam usage is when avatar Roku trying to cool down the volcano by using a steam release to reduce pressure. The 4th user soon after Roku in the same episode also doing the same is Sozin, also using a similar technique to help reduce pressure from the volcano.

What do they all have in common?

Their all fire benders.

-

Well then what about the water, dipshit?! Another person asks nicely <3

From what we see from water benders is fog, haze or mist. A water benders trait. These usages reflect from real world things. Like how we see in cold early mornings from a hot morning sun on large body’s of water. The heat and sudden cold creates heavy Vapor or fog or mist or a haze due to vaporisation.

Even swamp benders, another water user type mention fog. Even Wan Shi Tong says himself that he knows the same style.

If steam was a water benders style, imagine how horrific and painful being caught in that “fog”. Imagine the episode where Aang wakes back up from being in a coma, Katara having to use a heavy fog to go under cover, image that fog BEING BOILING HOT AS STEAM. She could possibly burn herself and others on the same boat alive… steam isn’t a joke. Steam is dangerous just as much as fire. It’s a terrible burning feeling if you’ve ever been burnt by it, but hey, what do I know? I’m just a random right? (Yes, I have been burnt by it. It fucking sucks. It’s painful af.) Just yeah, steam has a burning trait. It makes more sense as a fire benders trait.

-

Yes I know of fanarts and such. I’m ok with it, I genuinely love seeing peoples creations and them having fun. It’s just I wish people what take note to on details on what the show, shows us. Attention to detail. It’s just sometimes the fandom things make no sense to me at all and seeing a mass following on the bandwagon… it just feels weird. I do apologise for venting and what I say, I just wanted to share my thoughts on what I’ve picked up from watching the show many of times and from studying Zuko for something to do. Once again, I apologise if this offends anyone.

In my house, steam is a fire benders skill tree. Not water. And no one can’t and can not change my mind.