#I’m mobile don’t judge me if it fucks up

[simpee9000]

Super random but I’m a writer and I’ve been stuck on an idea I can’t get going😅 if you’re willing to/interested I’d love to see what you can do with the idea. I’m a domestic kinda girly so don’t judge 🫣🤣

Idea:

Bakugo coming home to retired ex-hero wife who’s excited to tell him about the new recipe she learned or something like that and it makes him feel frisky because she’s still so devoted in everything she does it just all goes to him now

I can try! I'm really rusty at smut so bear with me here! (Don't ask me how I'm writing a smut story despite only writing it maybe three times before)

Despite the smut not being the best I hope I did well enough. I've never done a request before so this is a first! Thank you <3

Word Count 2k~ Smut, and slightest gore at the beginning

Katsuki Bakugo x retired pro hero reader

Your leg was blasted off from under you. Making you collapse as you buckled under your weight. A silent scream of pain coming from you. Landing onto your stomach before falling onto your side, confused from the amount of pain. Your hero suit was torn in every spot possible, ends being burnt off mid-thigh.

From the knee down your left leg was gone, the pure gore of it made you fall back, head on the ground as you stared up at the dusty sky. It is covered with debris and ashes from the collapsed buildings nearby.

It was a simple fire earlier, quickly turning south when a villain was found on the lower levels. Flattening all buildings nearby. Back-up was called of course, but they were far too late. You were basically gone the second you made contact with the villain. Getting thrown through several walls by an air quirk. Mind going fuzzy just from that, but to make matters worse, a grenade was thrown with you.

You heard the sounds of other heroes and took it as a sign to back down. Resting into the concert underneath you as you tried to stabilize yourself. Ultimately passing out from the pain.

-

Waking up in the hospital sent you on another trip, you thought you were gone. Dead. The haze that surrounded the hospital consumed you as you looked around. The sterile air, empty with chemicals that dried it up. Beeping coming from your heart monitor, a steady pulse made everything feel even more surreal.

Your arm was in a sling and your left leg was gone. Same as before you passed out. Your ribs hurt as you tried to breathe. Panicking from the pain, a doctor rushed in.

Telling you all the things wrong with you, all the options you had.

Nothing felt good enough. Your body was broken, caved in. You lost not only your leg but most of your mobility, everything hurt. You were told everything would continue to hurt. Physical therapy and healing quirks could only do so much.

You tried to listen as the doctor droned on and on about how they had the best doctors. How they could get you a prosthetic that could help you walk again.

The fact that you wouldn't be able to walk without it stunned you.

How could you ever continue to be a hero in this state? You knew Mirko had done it, even your teacher Aizawa did it. But this felt life-changing. It was life-changing.

You thought you died. You didn't want to die.

"Fucking hell," you turned your attention to Katsuki, who just barged in. Pausing in the doorway as he looked you over.

You could say something sappy and it'd be true. As you looked at him you thought over everything. Barely hearing the concerned questions he asked you before turning to the doctor.

Raising a kid as two pro heroes would be impossible. Katsuki and you wanted kids, you couldn't let them see you like this, or worse. They couldn't live without a mother or father.

You couldn't be a hero.

"I'll take a prosthetic," you spoke out finally.

They both looked at you, the doctor labeling your options, "There are a lot of good options for hero work-"

"I'll just have a normal one," you avoided looking at Katsuki, almost ashamed. You loved hero work. You loved saving people. Working harder each day alongside him as you aimed to be your best.

"Okay, I'll file the paperwork," the doctor excused himself, leaving the room to you and Katsuki.

He stared at you for a while, waiting for you to speak. "I think I'm done," you said softly, "All this hero work, consumes my life."

He grasped your hands in his, "Okay."

"I'm sorry, I know that's not what you wanted-"

"But it's what you want," he shot down your apology, "It's okay."

"I don't know what I'll do-"

"We'll figure it okay together," he got rid of your doubts, "I don't think I could stomach seeing you like this again anyway," he confessed.

-

Quitting was difficult, it changed your life drastically. You stayed home more often, picking up smaller hobbies that you never had time for before.

Reading more often, baking, cooking, you were even starting to learn how to crochet. You had so much time and it was freeing. Leaving you with a flexible schedule. Helping Katsuki out on cases he needed a second opinion on, or what event he should go for to help his publicity.

Devoting your time to things you loved freely, rather than just hero work. You missed it sometimes, after all, you have been doing it since you were 15 and only stopped a year ago when you were 26.

It made things easier, schedule easily aligning with Katsuki and giving you more time with the spikey blonde. More time together allowed you to get closer, him engaging on your three-year anniversary.

You thought about your wedding, planned for next year, as you flipped through your new recipe book. Stumbling on a delicious-looking meal that you thankfully had all the ingredients for. Grabbing the ingredients absent-mindedly as you thought about the type of wedding you'd have.

Katsuki didn't care much, telling you to go nuts with it. His mom wanted to help though, and you warmly welcomed it. Excited to be close to his family at any opportunity.

Cutting each ingredient carefully as you mix it into the full meal. Humming in thought when you heard Katsuki's keys on the other side of the front door.

He walked into the kitchen after smelling your cooking, every day you offered him a new meal. He loved that you shared this hobby with him.

"What y'making?" he walked behind where you stood at the stove. Wrapping his arms around your waist as he buried his chin into your shoulder, looking at what you were doing.

"I just found a new recipe! The cookbook I bought has so many good things," you shared excitedly, "Lots of protein and vegetables, just the way you like it."

"I fuckin' love you," he kissed your neck and hugged you tighter.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a hand towel and wiping your hands off before you turned in his grip, wrapping your arms around his neck. He had his hero mask pushed up over his eyes, holding his hair back. "How was work?" you asked, swaying lightly with him.

"Work," he replied back, leaning down to kiss you.

Your lips connected for a moment before you pulled back, "You need a shower," you tried to smack away the taste of charcoal that was left on your lips. Concerned about how he even had that happen.

He rolled his eyes, squeezing at the fat of your hips, "As long as you join me?"

You looked over your shoulder and at the food, "I don't know, food just got done."

Without another word he pulled away from you and grabbed a pan lid, placing it over the pan filled with food and taking it off the heat. "We'll reheat it later, let's go," he grabbed your hand and put you in front of him as he walked behind you to the shower.

You giggled as you matched the forced pace he was making you walk, "Impatient much?" you teased.

He didn't answer, just pulled his shirt right off your body. He stared at it enough already and wanted more. He groaned when he noticed you were only wearing panties, the cheeky ones that he loved. "Fuckin' knew today was gonna be a good day," he mumbled before kissing you roughly, scaling kisses down your neck and onto your chest. He didn't seem like he could be happier at the fact you weren't wearing a bra, pressing kisses at every bare inch of you.

Nipping at your bud before sucking your tit into his mouth. His hand taking care of the other. "Kats," you whined, pulling him away by his hair when he mumbled a 'what' into your chest, "Shower."

Reluctantly he pulled away, flipping the shower on before ripping his shirt off, pushing his pants and boxers off as well. His hairband had fallen off when he was kissing you earlier. Despite being with him for three years, you still flushed at him bare.

He was built amazingly, sheer hard work sculpted him into a Greek god. You watched his arm ripple in muscle as he checked the temperature of the water before moving to grab you and push you into the water with him. Connecting your lips once in.

"I mean it Kats," you pushed his chest away, making his hair start soaking with water, "Shower."

Making a show of following your orders, he quickly washed his hair. Probably taking the fastest shower of his life before taking his time to run the soap over your body. Not nearly as rough as he washed his own. Kissing your shoulder blade before washing your back, "Beautiful," he murmured into your skin.

You twisted in his hold, deciding you were clean enough before you leaned into him locking his lips in a passionate kiss. You were only human after all, it's impossible to refuse him for long

Bringing your hands up to tangle into his hair, pulling him closer to your height. Easing the strain on the prosthetic, thankful that it was waterproof.

He took anything you gave him, following your lead as you backed yourself into the shower wall. His hands grabbed at your thighs and lifted you, pressing you into the cold tile as he held you up. Kissing his marks over your chest. Layering over where he had already kissed.

"I love you so fucking much," he murmured into your skin, taking a moment to back away and look over you. Soaking in the look you were giving him, full of devotion.

"I love you more," you whispered in reply, pulling him into another kiss. Leaving him to squeeze your thigh, frustrated that you shut him up with a kiss.

He pushed you more into the wall with one hand while he moved his other between you. Trailing it between your folds "It's been too fucking long," he groaned when he felt you, wet and wanting him.

"Can I just have you?" you whined, moving your hand into his hair and pulling desperately. He'd tease you for hours if he could. And with the colding temperature of the water, you couldn't handle that.

"Need me that bad?" he smirked down at you, circling his fingers over your clit meanly.

"Please?"

He wasn't lying when he said it had been too long. The second he gave in and lined himself up, the strain of just his tip was enough to force your head back. The push of him into you felt relieving, it was something you had missed without even knowing.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, head falling into your shoulder as he stilled. Letting you adjust for just a moment before he pulled his hips back. Slowly building pace as he works you both up to the climax.

Breaths tangled together as the steam from the shower clouded your vision.

Your hands were moving over his back and up his shoulders, trying to steady yourself despite his constant thrusts. Knocking the breath out of you each time.

His hand stayed on your clit, moving in sharp circles over you as he knew he wouldn't last. He hasn't had you in so long and wouldn't be held back. Yet he wouldn't be the only one to cum.

He was already close, he was worked up the second he saw you in the kitchen. Seeing you in your home together, cooking for him while wearing his clothes. It made him feel like everything would be okay, he had you. Everything was an effort together rather than alone, and he welcomed it.

The small grunts and moans he was making right next to your ear was sending you up the wall.

"Gonna cum baby? Feel y'fuckin' squeezing me," he panted, working his hips harder into his. You whined in reply, nodding your head frantically. He knew all your spots, bullying his cock straight into your spot.

He felt like he was falling in love all over again any time he looked at you, even now. Your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and your head lolled back, your body relying on him to stay upright as you blabbed for more. Knowing he'd give anything to you if you just asked. Your legs locked around him when you came, completely losing yourself in his hold as he worked his dick into you. Groaning at you tightening around him before he gave in and met you where you were.

Filling you up, not caring if it got you pregnant or not at this point, he knew everything would be fine.

You looked fucked out, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him, he was melting inside. Reluctantly letting you gain your footing back and letting you clean yourself fully.

It was a blur of a shower afterward. He could only focus on you, mind filled only with love as he crowded you after you dried off.

"You okay, kats?" You spoke softly as you hugged him back.

"Just fuckin love you, got an issue?" he snapped back as he hugged you tighter. He was just as devoted to you as you were to him, even if he didn't always get the time to prove it.

(I'm very meh about this work but I decided to post it anyway, I need to write more and challenge myself. If you have any ideas or requests you should send them in, I'll try to write them!)

You should read my Bakugo x reader if you liked this work!

[mistercharmandhandsome]

Switching Body with a Hunk: A New Perspective

I like to watch gym enthusiasts flexing their impressive muscles.

I admire them so much and often imagine myself becoming as muscular as they are.

Unfortunately, due to my genetics, it's challenging for me to bulk up despite many years of working out.

Even though I consume a lot of protein and drink shakes, my body mass remains the same.

Sometimes, I wish I could swap body with these guys.

They look so impressive.

One day, while watching the Mr. Hunk show, I noticed that one of the contestants is a gym acquaintance of mine.

We don’t talk much, but I always watch him silently while he’s focused on his exercise.

He is tall and strong, resembling the Asian Dwayne Johnson.

He has a deep voice, and every woman in the gym likes to chat with him.

"Let’s give a big round of applause for contestant number 30, Alex Shu!"

The audience claps welcoming him, but he looks so worried maybe due to stiff competition.

As he introduces himself, I can see him seems to lack confidence.

"Why is he behaving like that? The judge might give him a low evaluation! Wish I could be there and give him the support."

After the introduction, he returns to his original position and stands straight, looking at the camera.

Suddenly I see him making eye contact with me through the TV screen.

His eyes just froze and staring at the camera focusing on him.

I try to look at him again and feel drawn to him.

Suddenly, there’s a blackout with loud thunder sound, and I faint.

When I wake up, I find myself naked in the gym room with no one around.

I quickly grab the black trunk on the floor and put it on.

My heart is racing, and I’m sweating. I can feel my adrenaline is rushing.

I notice a different face in the mirror, but my vision is blurry and I feel disoriented.

I see a mobile phone on the workout bench, so I use it to take a few photos.

As I look through the photos, I realize that I am now in Alex Shu’s body.

I shout, “What the fuck!” I can’t believe I sound just like a deep voice alpha male.

Panicking, I take another look in the mirror.

This time, my vision is clearer, and I see that I’ve transformed into Alex Shu, the impressive guy from the gym.

I try to calm down and understand what happened, but at the same time, I’m thrilled to be in his body.

I examine the new physique, flexing the muscles to see how strong Alex Shu is.

“Hi, Alex! Ready to exercise with me?” One of the attractive women from the gym taps my shoulder.

“Sure, I’m just stretching before we get started,” I reply with a smirk smile.

Then I can feel the bulge under my trunk and I followed the women to the janitor room located behind the gym room.

We started to undress and kissing each other, the women grabbing my new dick and insert into her vagina.

Damn! Alex Shu has such a big dick and the women was moaning like crazy when I throbbing my dick.

Over the past year, I’ve adjusted to my new body.

I continue to train to build my chest and arms, and now I’m the most attractive guy with a six-pack and a muscular build.

I’ve changed careers to become a full-time gym instructor, and my schedule is fully booked.

Many women like to call me “daddy,” and some even volunteer to have special workout with me.

This experience has been incredible, and I don’t regret a moment of it.

[captain-mj]

memory loss fic part 3?

👉🏽👈🏽

whenever you’re ready of course…..the chokehold it has on me is WILD lmao 😅

I did ALL of this on mobile so forgive any problems lol

Last Part!

Soap spent every moment he could by Ghost’s bedside. Ghost tried to stay awake, flinching when the morphine forced him under.

He looked so normal while asleep. Soap expected him to twitch but he never did, completely still besides the gentle up and down of his breathing. Then he’d wake up, pleading with Soap.

“Make it stop. I don’t want to go back anymore. Please don’t make me go back.” Simon mumbled to him, holding on to him like a lifeline. “Why can’t I just stay asleep with you?”

Soap sighed. “Simon, they’re not real. Roba is dead. You’re reliving memories.”

“I hate it. I hate it so much. I don’t want to wake up again.”

Soap felt sick. He knew Ghost didn’t understand. It was probably impossible to tell what was real and what wasn’t, so he assumed Soap wasn’t.

“I know. I know.” No ones knew if or when this would end. They weren’t sure if he was “gaining the memories in a linear timeline” or “just having Night terrors”. That’s what the nurses said. It didn’t make any sense to him. Their explanations were pointless. None of it really helped the situation.

Ghost changed. The person he had met the first day of his injury faded. Although he still trusted Soap, he didn’t let him touch him anymore. It was subtle, but he started to cover himself up, trying to prevent any of them observing him.

Soap left for just a moment and found him quietly painting a skull on his face in the bathroom, using a marker that had been left behind. When asked, he didn’t have an explanation on why.

Soap hated it. He tried to get Ghost to remember at first. Showed him anything he could think of. Their dogtags, sketches He made of the two of them, but they were all met with a blank stare and frustration.

Right now though, it was quiet. Simon had grabbed his hand.

“They left me there.”

“Who?”

“Washington and Sparks. They left me there…” Ghost stared at the tv. “I told them to. I wish I hadn’t. I don’t want to wake up.”

Soap rubbed little circles into his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“I miss my mom. Do you think she’s doing okay?”

“I’m sure she’s fine.” Soap’s voice cracked. His big, bad Lt looked very small. “You’re a good man for telling them to leave.” He knew it hadn’t mattered. Both were dead. Ghost didn’t yet.

“If this is real, why are you always here when i wake up?”

“I don’t want you to wake up alone.”

“I barely know who you are. Why would you care?”

Soap stared at him.

“Please don’t bring up the memory thing again.”

“It’s the memory thing again.”

“Why? What did i do to deserve you?” Ghost looked at him and it took Soap to realize what he was asking.

“You saved my life. You let me in. You didn’t judge me too harshly.” He leaned in, very slow so Simon could pull away. He kissed him softly and maybe some cheesy part of him hoped he’d pull away and Ghost would be fixed.

“Johnny. I really hope you’re real.” Ghost mumbled against him. He grabbed his shirt, trying to pull him closer but Soap stopped him.

“You have a still healing bullet wound. I’ll hurt you.” Soap said softly to him, cupping his face. Pretty eyelashes. Giant brown eyes. Just as gorgeous as always. “Do you want me to get you a surgical mask?”

“Yes.” Ghost nodded and Soap got him one, watching him cover that part of his face. Soap watched him eventually go to sleep.

Johnny tried to stay up but it was pointless. He fell asleep.

When he woke up, he heard movement but he assumed it was Price or one of the nurses, eyes staying closed. He felt gloved hands on his face a minute later and groaned.

“Johnny.”

Ghost.

Soap knew as soon as he heard him. He threw himself at him, making him stumble.

“Healing bullet wound, remember?” Ghost didn’t seem all that upset though.

"There you are. Fuck." He kissed his face all over, gripping his shoulders tight. "Don't ever fucking do that again."

"I'll try not to get another head injury. Where's my mask?"

Soap pulled away just long enough to find it and give it to him. He patted over him, as if checking for injuries again. "How did you get out of the cuffs?"

"Picked the lock."

"You're a scary bastard sometimes." Soap kissed Ghost until he was physically shoved away to let the man breath.

Ghost huffed and relaxed. "That was hell... Thanks for sticking with me."

"Aye... You said you didn't like my voice."

"Because I don't"

"Ouch." Soap held his hand over his heart.

"Okay, I like it a little."

"There you go, big guy."

[crookedandclever]

For context, we’re a person with Autism (Level 2), DID, and multiple Chronic Illnesses

We got incredibly lost on the bus system a couple of weeks ago and our phone died and we lost most means of communication, in a place I had no clue where to go or what to do, and due to the overstimulation we kept getting stuck in verbal shutdowns and couldn’t get help, and every time we tried with our pocket notebook and pen no one listened. No one cared. Hell, barely anyone cared when we were speaking, despite the fact we are noticeably disabled, and wearing headphones and using our crutches, and it honestly scared the shit out of me.. what the fuck would happen if anything in that situation had gone worse and no one was there to help..?

I don’t ever wanna go through that again. We kept trying to get help and the only people who ended up helping were the ones working at one of the underground metro stations and by then we were a mess and it took a long time to communicate what we needed because of our verbal shutdown.

And judging by our reluctance to leave the house or use the buses, how overwhelmed we’ve been getting on them ever sense, and keeping close to our partner who helps us quite a lot, I think it traumatized us quite a bit. We know we’re someone who would heavily benefit from a service dog and even had one in training for a short period of time before our life changed drastically, because we don’t wanna have to be helped and accompanied by another person all the time even though that’s probably something that might need to happen if I can’t figure out how to make my life more accessible. We’re someone who generally just wants to be alone and is very independent and with a lot of internalized ablism and shame. We don’t want help but we know we need it..

We wanna make a lanyard or something with cards to help us but I don’t even know what I would put on them and things around our neck hurt and I think the lanyard would be too heavy for us with the cards on it.

We’ve never gotten proper help due to growing up neglected despite clearly having higher support needs, so we don’t know exactly how to help ourselves or what we need. Plus, that shame floods us when we “look disabled” or otherwise “weak” and we already are someone who uses mobility aids and can’t leave the house without headphones, so it just hurts in some way that probably comes from our shitty parentals- but anyways..

What other options are there other options besides something like cards on a lanyard? I use a ACC app but with my phone dying all the time we don’t always have that option and it’s scary. I guess we’re just trying to figure out all our options and what could best help us. We also don’t have money to buy much so I’m just a bit lost.

[searenbound]

Tumblr mobile decided to post this a week early so I’m just editing to say so, but I’m still allowed to be as self indulgent as I want and demand praise on this because it’s my birthday gift to myself. It’s not super long due to lack of energy but I’m happy with it regardless.

Warnings: afab reader that uses they/them pronouns, dom reader/bottom Bakugou, male masturbation, use of toys, Bakugou typical refusal to communicate properly, pegging, written with plus size reader in mind

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

“F-fuck, oh fuck” a carefully quiet moan slipped from his lips. Pleasure sparking through his veins with every bounce of his hips, distracting from that pitiful gnawing sense of shame that tries to eat him up when he gives in to this want. Gives in to his needs.

He almost wishes he didn’t have such a strong sense of curiosity and had never discovered this. Almost wishes he had never tried it in the first place, but then he’d angel his hips just right and see bright white stars of pleasure blurring his vision.

A hand wrapped around his dick as he swore and cursed his stupid discovery of one of the best things he’s ever felt. Trying to push aside his embarrassment for the stupid harness strapped to a pillow just so he could simulate getting fucked a little better.

Trying even harder to not pay attention to the lewd squelch of his lubed ass being penetrated over and over. To pay no mind to the name on the very tip of his tongue or the image his brain conjured up while that knot in his stomach pulled tighter and tighter.

Gleaming eyes that sparkled with a sense of satisfaction at his undoing, plump lips pulled into a smug grin and sing-song tone of voice that teased him for being so needy. A perverted image of his best friend and roommate (Yn).

Perfectly plump and soft body pressing into his muscular, larger frame. Treating him like he’s the most deliciously delicate being in the world and they’re honored to break him down into a whiny mess covered in his own cum.

The thought of which made it so much harder for him to keep that name out his mouth. Trying so desperately to at least keep himself just quiet enough to not be heard as he mumbled out his declaration of desperation and love.

“Oh my! Do you really feel that way about me Tsuki? That’s so sweet!” came an overly saccharine coo from his doorway.

He froze awkwardly in place, unsure of if this was real. If they were really standing there with that stupid, infuriating, all too smug smile of theirs. Witnessing him in such a compromising position.

Watching him barely satisfying himself, he hoped it was a fucked up dream. That it was all fake and they weren’t judging him for his shamefully des—“You’re making a cute face right now you know? I’ve never seen that one on you Katsuki, can you be a a good boy and show me more?”.

His breath hitched, they had to be real, and they had to be fucking with him right? He didn’t have time to give some biting retort, rather he didn’t get the chance.

“It’s not like you to get shy, do you want help? I bet it’ll feel a lot better that way too!” he blinked slowly, his senses returning just as slow before he snapped.

“The fuck are you playing at huh?! Trying to make fun of me or—” “Yeah I genuinely don’t care if you’re gonna be a brat about it. Cut the attitude and the assumption I don’t want to watch your cute ass swallowing that pretty little toy you got or you can continue fucking yourself instead”.

Something about the hard set glare, as if begging him to step out of line and the flat tone he’s never heard them use almost made him want to comply.

“You know what? Fuck you, can’t make do shit for you!” almost.

“I shouldn’t give you the satisfaction but…” they sighed, catching him off guard and shoving him off his little makeshift rig. Disorienting him from the sudden loss of that full sensation and shocking him with how quickly they managed to strip down and strap up.

He barely even had the chance to spit out some vitriolic comment about them being whore for how well practiced they are only to have his face shoved into his mattress and told to hold still like that.

“Pfft so you can follow orders huh? Just gotta treat you like the slut you say I am”.

“O-oh fuck you, y— aha! F-fuck you d-didn’t… didn’t even—” “warn you?” they finished his sentence, relishing in the quick disappearance of his attitude “why, should I have hmm? You knew what was happening, did you think I’d go easy and treat you like a good boy when you’ve only given me attitude?”

Their hips began to rock into him, far rougher than he was used to, but delectably none the less. Hitting spots he was unaware of and setting his very being ablaze with a euphoria he didn’t know existed until now.

Pulling pathetic moans and whines from deep with in him and making it impossible for him to think other than to beg for more.

“God, oh shit, (Y-yn) fuck please, wanna cum”

“Hmm ready to be my good boy then? Gonna let me make you cum all over yourself?” he shook with anticipation, a hissed out agreement and a plea for them to make him feel so fuck good was all they needed to hear.

Wrapping his hand around his leaky cock, they guided him in exactly how they expected him to jerk himself off before grabbing hold of his slim waist and matching the quick pace of his hand. Hitting and prodding at his prostate. He was glad they couldn’t see his teary reddened face properly or the way he gritted his teeth with his eyes screwing shut when his orgasm hit.

[oddballwriter]

I’m gonna be hella specific because that req about an s/o with piercings and tattoos gave me a smutty-ish prompt idea!!!!!! The EMH and MH peeps with an s/o who has a split tongue and bonus points for a tongue piercing on both sides. Maybe some giving head with them prompts because I am very smut deprived also I loveeee your writing and stories they’re amazing and inspired me to write more! 🖤

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

🔞NO PEOPLE BELOW 18+ OR AGELESS BEYOND CUT OFF🔞

Warnings: HABIT is here, mentions of body mods, and slightly detailed talk of reader giving oral (If I'm missing anything do not hesitate to tell me) 

Author’s Snip: First off, when I was writing that I just knew someone was gonna request smut/nsfw content based off of it, not judging just saying lol. Also, I'm very glad that I've inspired you to write your own content and I wish you that very best :0)) 

Notes: I wrote the same characters as the characters requested in the piercings and tattoo request. I hope no one minds (edit, my bad I mixed up the bath and tattoo request sorry). Also, I mean it when I say minors AND agless blogs will be blocked.  

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

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Marble Hornets

Tim

Just in general, like in the not horny way, the fact that your tongue is split freaks him out for a second but he gets used to it pretty quick

He would never admit it but when you do regular tricks with it, like showing how mobile they are or hold something with them, his mind does become a bit dirty for a moment

It's not a thing that turns him on per say but he does like to think about what it would feel like if you gave him head

He's honestly a bit scared when the time comes just because the whole split tongue thing still freaks him out even though he knows nothing is really gonna happen

He lowkey loses it a bit when you're giving head and using the tongues

How can he not you basically have two fucking tongues

Will hesitantly ask you to use the tongues whenever you give head because he doesn't want you to know how much he likes it

But obviously you're gonna catch on and now you stick out you're tongues when no one is looking just to tease him

Brian

I'm gonna be honest when in private and the time is right, I believe Brian has no shame asking for a blowy with tongue

He wants to know what it feels like to get a blow job from someone with two tongues, it's not everyday that your partner has a body mod that gives them two tongues

He has an idea that it feels great but how is he gonna know if he doesn't try it. That how he defends the suggestion

And you know what I feel like with him, he's into it

I feel like he enjoys it in just about everything

Alex

I'm gonna be honest he also gets freaked out about your split tongue just in general and gets even more freaked out at the idea of what it would feel like on his dick

If you offer to give him head he'll actually refuse because the idea weirds him out

At some point though, his brain wonders and he starts thinking about what it would feel like

Maybe at some point you got the hint that he will always say no because he doesn't like the idea of getting head, so you just sorta stopped asking/trying to initiate it

So when he starts to start it up or even ask when in private, you're a bit shocked, but you figure that he's decided to at least give it a shot

And the verdict is that, yeah sure. It felt like what he thought it would feel like and at least now that he's done it he won't be weirded out anymore

EveryManHYBRID

Evan

I've said it before but Evan's lowkey (it's not really that lowkey) a freak

So once you get your tongue split and it heals properly, or maybe this man even waits till you know how to have dexterity with the two tongues, he throws hints that he wants to see what head from a split tongue is like

To say he enjoyed himself is an understatement

I have a bit of hc that Evan isn't afraid to make noise during sex or any other sexual acts unless it's part of the fun in it

But he might have made some slutty ass noises when he was getting head from you

This part isn't really nsfw but when you guys are making out (with tongue) he gets a little bit too excited about you using both your tongues

Evan is lowkey a slut and a good portion of the fandom agrees

HABIT

Speaking of sluts

Man, HABIT is not subtle at all that he wants you to give him head once he finds out about you splitting your tongue

He literally just says "How about we give those two some good use, yeah?"

He has no shame truly, and we aren't surprise

Never try to tease him by sticking you tongues at him, he will stop what he's doing to get some

So do that only when you want to be giving head

[plasticfangtastic]

Can We Be Lonely Together? Ch. 3

A Homelander X Stalker! Reader fanfic

Sorry if this fic looks super long I don't know how to make it shorter on mobile.

check my blog for prev. chapters.

This is a gender neutral reader fic but is just this author attempt at a crack ship between Homie and Joe Goldberg, obviously. this is a slow burn fic

Sypnosis: We were both mices prentending to be cats? We just didn't expect for things to turn out like this... for you to refus me..to not believe my feelings for you were genuine, you threw awful words at me calling me a psychotic bitch, a stalker... a Liar.

A Liar? after everything I've done for you! For us! After everythign I did to protect you?

You were wrong.

R18+ TW for drug abuse, Domestic abuse mention (this fic will contain some smut and gore in future entrances btw.)

Chapter 3

DIY Incidents.

Smile, nod, don’t question or talk to the upper ranks. 

This was Vought etiquette 101, and here I was fucking that up. 

I wish I could say I went straight home instead of running into CVS to buy the mellowest body spray I could find, something that wouldn’t bother your nostrils, something gentle even my soap now had to be mellow. Our first interaction weighed heavily in my mind, I had an inkling from the look in your eyes, and the alarm bells in your amygdala that we were going to meet soon– on your terms of course. 

So I dressed nicely, I wanted to see just how much I’ve earned of your attention. How much were you willing to give and how– so I wore pretty clothes, did my hair and booked a hairdressers appointment for this afternoon in case you noticed any dead ends, or it wasn’t up your liking– after all my competition was a literal Queen and Nazi pussy. I needed to stand out. Did you want it long? short? bob? buzzed? 

I waited all day.

All day trying to be a decent person and keep my mind away from yours; at least I had a pile of work to distract me at least– after all this department had remained understaffed. All three people hired alongside me had lasted less than a week. Seems Cassandra and Kevin had a knack for firing people. I simply had no presence for them to judge, probably why Deep gave me strange looks from time to time now he regretted not doing that of course.

As the end grew near on the clock above me, I relinquished– my crotch itchy from this lace, I thought you would like what you see… look at me… I wanted you to look at me and grin.

Oh shit!

Anika was louder than usual, her mind a sonata of anxiety and deadline reminders– I lifted my eyes.

Chest puffed, arms tight behind you and your hair slicked back in far more authoritarian fashion than usual, things were slipping under your boots and I guess you needed to scream ‘I’m on top of it’ whatever this thing that needed topping was– I was jealous.

Anika shrank in her seat, feeling her throat expand and shrink simultaneously as you laid your most casual jovial smile, practice made perfect; But Anika no longer could be fooled, you frightened her, you could smell it too, it made you laugh when you flashed your fangs, and her heart skipped a beat.

She was screaming in delight as you passed by her desk, heading towards me. 

The guy nearest to me glad to clock out just now, I straightened my back and made my way into you, seeing myself through your eyes. 

My hair frizzy, shirt creased from slouching, and you could smell my hot chocolate.

Your nose crinkle at the scent, that other you doing quick math to calculate the caloric content of my drink, it was pungent with its sweetness. My hand unconsciously took the cup into my lap, not because I wanted to get it away from you, I wanted it to wash over you, and give you a reason to look at my lap.

“How can I be of service, Mister Gillman?” 

There it was– a twitch on your brow, you weren’t used to this tone, so casual, and friendly. Surprised to hear how calm my heartbeat was. I was sweet, customer service had drilled this voice into my chords, it was easy to do some infiltrating if you knew how to talk.

My supervisor's eyes were the size of Jupiter, her tongue filled with cotton, unable to believe what I had uttered.

I mean that was your name, no? Was I supposed to call you “Homelander”, was that part of our corporate etiquette? I mean I called Roman by his first name. So why did you need to be different?

“Just doing the rounds, I hadn’t had an opportunity to meet the new recruits!”

“It's just little ol’ me left– the rest didn’t survive this death game.”

You had lost your train of thought, between the drink and my words.

“Too sweet?”

“What?”

“The drink?” There I was trying my darndest to get caught– I… I forgot you had… super senses, right? I had a friend in college she was a supe, she hated my drinks'' I laughed, you can’t believe I didn’t have encyclopedic knowledge about you, well sorry so far I had only partially read your wiki entry– its six sugars, whip cream and caramel drizzle on top-- there's a hot choccy simmering somewhere there.”

I turned to my computer, placing the cup down after a long sip guzzling the grainy remains, hands back on my keyboard.

“You were the lost little lamb wondering about last night.” yeah, my cheeks still flushed– quite a nice spot for a corporate spy.”

“Nah I couldn’t even get a job in I.T or Crisis Management.” I’m glad you ignored my snark, and interesting choice– can’t be very good at spying if I got caught”

“You did work for Banvision.”

“Vought has a very comprehensive 401k plan, and if I pass my six month probationary period I might qualify for a discounted Vought Health Insurance plan– that’s a lot I can save on dental.”

That guy still hasn’t left, constantly exchanging looks with Anika asking wordlessly if they needed to get a mop instead of a gurney. 

“What happened to your hand?” my tone grating, so you changed the topic trying to stop yourself from melting my face off.

It had been weeks but my cheeks were still olive, and my hand still bandaged.

“DIY incident.”

“And the face?”

“That’s my ex’s nickname.” Now you calm down– He hates supes, so I thought it would be funny if I got a job here. I love it here, it is probably the nicest place I’ve worked so far, everybody in this department and Mister and Miss Murkovitz are just so welcoming! I feel like I’m doing something good for once.``

“I’m glad… to hear.”

Your posture softens, you assumed men put me on edge, but I still bothered you, I spoke as if i read off a script in your mind. Just to double check you needed to find something off, to ease your concerns.

All your trained had prepared you to control that split second where you lost control of your facial expression, before carving it back to normal– there I was seeing myself grin slyly. 

I crossed my ankle above my knee like a bloke desperate to take extra space in the train, give you a nice peek of this sweet black lace, pressing tightly against my skin, crotchless exposing it all for you, bra cut so low it only really held the idea of support, it was all exposed, beneath this serious facade.

“Well if there’s anything I can do for you, sir… please do let me know, I’ll be more than eager to help, Mister Gillman.” 

The customer service voice took you by surprise, and your gaze diverted to my desk. I came on strong-- It 's not like I was doing it on purpose.

My book, the bent bookmark sticking out from within the first one hundred pages, you stared at it for a solid five seconds.

“Is a waste of time” I tensed, you noticed– the book! I read it is pretty bad.” you mumbled– keep up the good work… eh your name…”

Humoring you with my name, and went back to my computer screen, ignoring you, watching you talk to Homelander about what you just divulged, it was minor but you hoped I wouldn't think too deeply as to why you of all people– was reading YA fantasy. Wondering why I didn’t seem to care if you existed, treating you like any annoying chump in the office.

I stared at that book my whole way home.

And that’s when I knew you weren’t just cute. You let me see something special, I made you want to share– I knew the panties were the right move! 

I had never been so eager to return to work before, so excited and anxious for my phone alarm to go off, I decided I had to do my homework, I got your attention. I was going to milk it. 

But if I had one complaint… is that… you made this needlessly difficult for me, all your social media was filtered through at least five publicists before “you” even pressed ‘post’. All of this was the same carefully constructed persona, that repeated itself without flavor or substance, your Twitter, Facebook, Instagram were all the same so I started digging, finding nothing! You gave me nothing.

Fuming I headed back to the office, it was still around 10 p.m. If anybody caught me I would've just say I’d left something, even bringing my spare phone charger to pretend I left it behind on my desk. 

So here I’m sitting on my office desk past ten navigating this whole building to find you, to find you home drinking a latte, your mind distracted by this terrorist running amok– this wouldn’t do, and before I knew it I was frustrated enough… I needed to know… I needed for you to stop playing coy with me. I hated knowing Roman could be right about anything, looking around the empty room I headed to the bathroom dragging the cable visibly for the cameras to spot, the toilets vacant at this hours.

Roman was a great ex, not awful in bed and always generous to help his whore out for the tough jobs– after seven years he knew this made the jobs go quickly hence why I stole it in the first place. I wasn’t a fan but this wasn’t cheap, it fucked me up, I swore to stay off this crap– yet you were worth it. Growing up I heard of Mindstorm, and dreamed to one day be as well adjusted as him, after all our powers were so similar, but deep down yours truly was a bootleg version– until I took this. Now sitting on the toilet floor I placed a pen in my hand, tying it with tape, my notebook on the toilet lid, placing a handkerchief in between my teeth, sticking my toes apart I pressed the needle watching the compound V color my veins.

Holy fuck.

It was the best…

I could cum just from the first five second rush alone. 

No longer a foggy unexplored map, I saw you in vignettes– You had nothing, no accounts for me to stalk, no secret Voughtify, Twitter, Facebook, Insta, Tiktok, VK, Weibo, Habbo? I'm still unsure how you knew what Habbo was even to this day.  Livejournal, MySpace, Youtube account, Google+, Pinterest, not even a RYM or Pornhub account… Jesus– I was starting to scrape the bottom of this barrel with neopets (actually you did have one but you forgot the password so it wasn’t useful to me right in that instant!), or something like NHentai, Grindr…bumble…how did you live!?… but Homie you didn’t even have a fucking Tumblr! (of your own) you… you had nothing… and then it hit me… my book… I mean… could it be? Obviously you didn’t have a wattpad or fanfiction.net account, I was praying for an Ao3… even some weird Lit forum– I mean nice that you lurked the Chans to trash talk books.

Out of all the places you could’ve played pretend in… Goodreads? not even VReads? Not even your own company’s knockoff!? But my hand already took note of your username and password while seeing your home as you gave me this private room,  heading upstairs to bury yourself on a small leather couch to sit down to read, it took me a second… you had… taste. From my wrongful assumptions I had pen you for a lover of classical Americana, cowboys and fifty’s pulp, classics made by men not even giving Bronte or Austen a chance, so I was surprise you were enjoying House of Leaves… that was unexpected, the fact you read at all was a surprise, the massive library around you had all sorts, from bargain bin trash to classical first editions, even sneak peaks at manuscripts before they had even hit the printers as if you were Miranda Priestly-- all for you. Books of every genre, plenty worn down and some untouched.

Standing up, I could clean the blood off my upper lip happily. 

I packed my mess, ripping the tape off my hand cursing as my fingers ached from my wound.

It has been too long… each step lighter than before, everyone's mind now on the forefront.

“Help…” that’s all I could ask.

My mind was being assaulted by screaming babies experiencing discomfort for the first time, The rest of the Seven’s nervous racketeering, from the security guards on edge, the poor overworked folks in Crisis Management and Special Services, with an honorable mention to the lab rats below– somehow I stumbled upwards, light headed and blood trickling down my mouth.

I took the needle and threw it down the toilet, fumbling my way out of the bathroom.

Louder. louder. fuck I was going deaf. I could hurl all the blood out my body, I had taken too much, it should have been half of that.

“Someone… he…help me.”

This… this batch had been adulterated… somebody messed with this shit. Roman… I though.

Too many people talking, thinking, their childhood traumas playing without permission… oh that bitch… she fucking hates you, her hexes and curses distract me enough as I collapse in the ground.

“Homelander…” stop talking shit about Homelander was the last thing on my mind.

I don’t remember anything other than feeling something pressing against my sides. 

But even in this state I couldn’t sleep, woken up by the sounds of your neighbors and staff, but you seemed quiet, your mind picturing the purple passages in vibrant colors.

“Sorry for the inconvenience.” Your couch isn’t exactly comfortable but the fur blanket does compensate for it– what… what time is it?”

“Past 1 a.m. What were you doing here again? spying?”

“Left my charger at my desk.” I said weakly barely getting upwards– I am so sorry, sir.”

“What did you take? Meth?”

“Heroin… bought the cheap shit… seems it wasn’t a good idea changing plugs.”

“So honest.”

“I hate liars. it's insulting” People lied to me all the time but by now I’ve grown jaded of people, you did too– am I fired?”

You could tell I was being genuine, you put your book down for a moment standing up to hand me my purse minus my handkerchief, studying my barely put together attire finding I was bare under it... like you.

“No. but I can’t let you leave either.”

“So a meeting with HR then…”

“Nothing like that, silly. You were bleeding quite a bit, rest then head home tomorrow morning.”

“Shouldn’t I head to the hospital?”

“I had someone check you up downstairs before I brought you here”

You slid towards me placing your nude finger on a loose hair strand, twirling it, watching me with those baby blues.

“Rest. We can talk about this in the morning.”

“You’re most kind John… I meant Homelander.” 

I will admit I was exhausted, my head was throbbing and even talking to you was draining, so I slowly drifted back into my slumber watching my head drop near your thigh leaving your hand hovering above me.

“Thank you for being there for me… haven’t… haven’t experience that in a long time”

“experience what?” your voice is low and confused.

“kindness…you’re sweet…”

Homelander watched you counting the seconds in between your breathing. His finger tracing the shape of your cheeks brushing tenderly, a strange smile made home in his face.

Unlike the one he had right now while you told him your story.

[bad-advice-its-very-bad]

tw foot pain and general vent

so we have posterior tibial tendon dysfunction (pttd) which is basically flat feet but it gets worse over time and idk if we’ll be able to walk by the time i’m 30 if not earlier. but rn we can walk but after a while it hurts. we have orthotics but they don’t do shit and i might need surgery. the shitty part is most people with pttd are 40+ and our abusive grandma has it .-.

tldr: feet go ow, maybe won’t be able to walk by age 30, trauma go brr

sry for that, what i mean to ask is do we count as physically disabled?

I’m pretty sure that’s by definition a physical disability

also that sucks :(

Kinda unsolicited advice here, feel free to ignore me.

But have you looked into canes or crutches? Just because I’ve heard from TONS of people they do help with these sorts of things, one of my old friends with a leg deformity when I met up with them had just gotten a cane and they were so happy to have it.

But there’s no one size fits all, but mobility aids even now might help a little bit.

from what I gather, if something will help you from being in pain then try it. Disability is a large and confusing thing, and lots of people are also ableist as shit I should know. (I love having severe asthma attacks because people won’t let me sit out certain activities, or force me to run or exert myself without my inhaler </3 /j)

so use accessibility’s and whatever if it helps, people are always gonna judge those they don’t understand.

like I full on forget that I have literally god awful asthma, like it’s normal to think you can power through the pain and do the things you “should” be able to do. But there’s a difference between healthy limit pushing and unhealthy limit pushing, like you should be able to push your limits on occasion when you’re happy to but if you’re doing it everyday and your in pain everyday from something you should be able to rest and try again with then that’s kinda shitty if the people around you are allowing that.

your allowed to take breaks or rest, your allowed to use accessibility’s not typically associated with your disability. Your allowed to do whatever you need to ease the pain of your going through.

Idk, I hope this helps shitpostsystem!

if it doesn’t apply then that’s okay too! The bad advice blog is that sometimes bad advice, and sometimes we have to return later and try again. There’s nothing with both or me or whatever being wrong, this is a safe place to fuck up.

Hope you’re having a wonderful day! :D

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

Top underrated/underappreciated videogames?

This is an AWESOME ask, and even though I'm a terrible judge of what's considered underrated; let me SEE.

IN no particular order:

1. Puzzle Quest: Challenge of the Warlords for PS2.

Developer: DS3 Publisher

Release: 13th November 2007 (I was 16, fun fact!)

Wikipedia Summary:

Nate's Play:

 I played the game a lot in high school. It's far more addictive than it initially appears. While I forget who my character was, if I find the right save space and memory card, I'll take some photos and add them to the post. I remember more than one insomnia night filled with my tiny CRT tv and PS2 with the lowest volume possible while playing this for hours. Granted, I only had like, 4 games as it was, but I'm pretty sure I purchased this game at Future Shop myself. Which does not even exist anymore.

Rest in Peace, Future Shop. (1982-2015). You might've merged with Best Buy, but you were to good for them.

As a result, this game was one of those things associated with incredibly specific memories and long nights accompanying my lonely teenage self.

Life happened, and then maybe just over a decade later, I booted it back up, found my character and completed the game entirely. As if years of not playing it hadn't mattered at all.

Maybe you're not underrated, Puzzle Quest. But you're special to me.

Although it seems the UK got the cooler cover!

Version I got.

UK Version.

And look! My real copy!

I post this on 'Rate My Set Up' and get roasted into oblivion.

And look more! My characters! I have 2 more but Tumblr is being ridiculous.

Achroma here is who I beat the game with, be nice to him <3

2. Choice of Games and Hosted Games

Developer: Various Independent Developers

Platform: Mobile

Release: On-going, continual.

Nate’s Play:

Yes, I’m talking about *gasp* mobile games here. But they are I’m told also available on Steam.

These two platforms are host to text-based choose your own adventure games that I am very fond of. Some I have more fun with than others, some I was disappointed by, and some I don’t like at all. But they’re from a variety of creators, engaging and entertaining. Some also include art now.

My Library in Choice of Games

My Library in Hosted Games

If you enjoy reading, character creation and something without a lot of hassle, I highly recommend these. While most are free to play (with ads) I tend to purchase the ones I like. Not one of them has ever been pricier than 12 dollars. Well worth it, in my opinion.

3.  Yakuza: Dead Souls (Ryu ga Gotoku of the End)

Developer: RGG Studios. Sega

Platform: PS3

Release:  9th June, 2011 (Japan, 2012 in NA and EU)

Fandom Wiki Summary:

Nate’s Play

Look, it’s not underrated in the fandom, and the controls are a hot mess. But the game gives you so much GREATNESS that it’s so hard not to just have fun with.

Ryuji is back with a GATLING GUN ARM AND A TAKOYAKI STAND.

Majima reacts to the Zombie apocalypse by having the time of his life.

AKIYAMA LOOKS LIKE THIS

credit: @essence-of-armbarring

and LAUNCHES THE BAD GUY INTO THE ZOMBIE PIT FROM A HELICOPTER

Haruka is cute and sweet, the game has it’s own unique cast members never seen in the main series and is just a wild ride the whole time.

THE GAME BROUGHT HANA CHAN BACK (Links to gifset)

KIRYU GETS A GUN THAT FUCKIN LOOKS LIKE AN ANTI MATERIAL RIFLE

DAIGO at, pretty much all times let’s be honest here.

Does a zombie apocalypse in my crime game make sense? No? Do I care? Not a lick. It’s a fun, wild ride. And it brought Ryuji back, I need to do a replay.

The only Yakuza game where the characters adopt Daigo’s idea of ‘fuck it, we all get guns’ ideology (Kiryu does take an entire third of the game before deciding ‘kill the zombies’ is acceptable tho, so that’s in character) and shoot.

4. Sherlock Holmes: Crimes and Punishments

Developer: Frogwares Ireland Ltd

Platform: PS4

Release: 2014

PS Store Summary:

Nate’s Play:

I downloaded and bought this on a deep seated craving need for a mystery game (I love those so much guys pls rec mystery games). Might not be a master class in development and it did end up with the occasional glitch from time to time but I had a good time playing it.

It’s not the most perfect game, but it wasn’t taxing, the puzzles were varied and engaging and I had a good time with it.

Could’ve run a bit smoother over all, but it never ruined the games for me and I enjoyed my time playing.

5. I can’t think of anything now so I’m going to flip this and go on a random rant about Vampire the Masquerades single player games.

I am aware that the series began as a TTRPG and maybe it’s better when played that way, but I’ve played a few of the single player versions in the app I mentioned above (Choice of Games) and I purchased *but disliked* the PS4 versions. Not ‘disiked’ as in ‘the worst games ever’ but in the ‘after each one of these I am largely disappointed and Swansong was so full of glitches it became unplayable and whydidIspend70bucksonthis ANYWAY

It’s odd to me that a series so about embracing the fun of being a vampire just..does not enjoy doing that? I understand the Camarilla and how you’re meant to be discrete and the entire concept being fly under the radar, or question the corrupt overarching power house but I every one of the VtM games I’ve payed through hasn’t really made that..engaging?

You have some *limited* choices, and you feel actively punished for being a vampire even if you never choose to do anything ‘exciting’ and obey your cloaked overlords. I’ve tried versions of playing as the outcast or rogue groups, but the games never seem to allow for me getting as..idk, vampiric or brutal as I might want? I’m a creature of the night. I don’t want to attend bureaucratic nonsense I want to have fun being a morally questionable blood sucker.

ANYWHO, I thank you for this awesome ask and I am (ok not really) sorry it got so long and rambling!

[kept-it-sincere]

Love -vs- Friendship

It was mid-October business was kind of slow that day and he walked into the T-Mobile location I worked at in The Bronx. He was not alone though; he came with a colleague from his job. The fellas worked in the hospital around the corner from where we were located. Person made it clear he only spoke Spanish and needed to buy a new phone. I asked him if he knew what he was interested in since it was close to closing the place but of course, I dealt with him, I wanted that sale. After seeing the phone, he currently had, I suggested a new one that was on promotion and went about transferring his mobile number.

Cheers to the beginning of a new friendship.

So let me tell you, this man that I clearly don’t know, besides now being a customer, goes on to tell his coworker “Yo me voy a casar con ella. Tu vas a ver.” Spanish for “I’m going to marry her. You will see.” His coworker laughed at him and said to him that he is truly the weirdest man he met. I agreed. Like uhhh, dude, why on Gods earth would you make such claims? I thought to myself this dude is insane and I need to hurry up with this new account set-up so he can leave. Though we laughed and giggled deep inside I was nervous and did not want to be rude. So, I let it be. Like every other customer, he left satisfied with his purchase. Thank goodness because I was exhausted and ready to finally go home. Let’s close shop now!

Hands practically frozen, here I am opening the store on an extremely cold Friday in November. As the gates slowly went up, a stranger came behind me, grabbed me and rushed through the doors. Immediately I thought to myself. I’m fucking getting robbed! WHAT NOW? The hell I was! Can you believe it was that guy who claimed was going to marry me? As he released me, he started to laugh so loud but being nervous and shaken up, I yelled at him for doing such things, explained to him how I’m watched on cameras and there’s a possibility that my boss called the cops thinking the store was about to get robbed. He began to apologize to me, frantically told me he does not have papers to be in this country, gave me a soft kiss on my forehead and ran off. While he ran out, I couldn’t help but notice how great his scent was, Issey Miyake, I recognize it being that it is my favorite cologne for a guy during that era.

As I figured, after a couple of minutes’ pasts, boom. Cops arrived. I had to explain to them and later of course to my boss that I knew him, and he was playing a cruel joke on me. The cops were not buying that story and started questioning me as if I had something to do with the situation. Mind you, this is the second time I seen this guy. Like why the hell am I lying to the cops. Let alone allow him to kiss my forehead? He is a creep as it is, but I did not say a word to them. I do not know but something told me not to tell the truth. So, I called my boss and told him what was happening, he knew I’m trustworthy and wouldn’t make things up, so he confirmed my story. Finally, the cops left. Hours had passed by, and he stopped by to apologize to my boss, and he offered us both breakfast and a fresh cup of coffee.

Well years later and he still plays cruel pranks on me. Talk about a way of life huh, Haha. Throughout the years we grew onto each other beautifully. Even became remarkably close friends that trusted one another with everything and shared every moment of life with each other. Enough to hold spare keys to our Apts. Our families grew to love us and knew we would be the best of friends for life. Our siblings and friends of course thought that we would end up together and become the trendiest couple around. It never happened; we respected one another so much to cross those lines. As best friends now, we would style each other before dates, give certain tips, hype each other up and then laugh or joke about how they went at the end of the night. Also being one of the biggest judges to one another, we would point out red flags in partners we dated throughout the years. Let me add that we would point out red flags to one another as well. Sometimes we did not agree but we always respected each other’s point of view and just kept a close eye on it. Don’t forget, he constantly brings up what he told me that day at the store and how he means it. I honestly did not take him seriously. Come on now, how could I?

Couple years had passed by. It was the beginning of summer, June 6 at 2:40am on a Saturday, I called him crying; completely intoxicated. It was my sons’ death anniversary, and I was not taking things well that year. I cried to him about how I miss my son who passed away. How I can close my eyes and still hear his laughter. How his touch was the best I ever felt, when he would place those tiny little hands on my face and just smile with me. After hours talking on the phone, I finally knocked out cold. The next day I woke up to flowers and a handwritten letter reminding me that I’ll always be a great Mom and that everything will be okay one day. We cooked our favorite comfort foods throughout the day and laid-back watching movies till late that night.

Things changed one night though. He called me and said he needed to come over to my place. That something bad happened on his block and he needs to get away from everything. Without hesitation I told him to come over. Once he arrived, all broken sweat as if he was running, he told me how a jeep drove by him and his friends that was outside his building, and people inside that truck just started shooting at them. Explaining to me that everyone was fine and was able to get out of dangers way. He asked if he could stay the night behind what had just occurred. Of course, I refused for him to be out there anyway. That night, we gossiped about all the drama that was going on between the blocks from where he lived at. I was always worried about him because of the lifestyle he lived back then. You know how many times we argued about him leaving the streets alone for good? Thus, way too many times if I must say. It just would not happen though.

Happy New Year!!! Here we are now, years later celebrating the new year in Florida. Friends trip to Walt Disney World. Let me tell you, if you can, do it! The trip was such an amazing experience. The firework show was a spectacular event and to die for! Makes you really fall in love. That’s exactly what happened too, we fell in love. Everyone claimed they knew how we felt for each other, but we always denied it since, again, we never crossed those lines, but people would make their comments here and there. As always, we ignored them.

Time came and went, we’re back to the mother land. The Bronx, everyone finally settled into their homes and caught up to reality again. For a selected few it is a reality they were trying to run from.

It’s roughly about 5am, I heard my phone ringing from a distance. When I answered with was my best friend's grandmother, hysterical crying, she told me “Someone shot him, they tried to kill him!” My heart sank, I rushed right over to the hospital where they took him too. We waited in the emergency room for hours. Finally, the doctor, covered in blood, gave us the most horrific news I had to endure. He did not make it. He lost too much blood before arriving and they didn’t have enough time to perform a blood transfusion. My world literally shattered that day. After his burial service, I decided to stay at his grave. I huddled over his casket crying, I confessed to him how much I love him. How I felt like a horrible friend for not saving him from the streets. But I promise to take care of his grandmother the way he did. Which, still to this day, I do. You know what the saddest part is, there are people that cannot be saved. No matter how hard you try. Sometimes you cannot have somebody just because you love them. Sometimes you should tell others how you truly feel about them. But you must allow them to live their lives. No matter how hard that is for you, certain people come into your life as a blessing. Learn to see what that is and appreciate them until they’re gone, because one day God is going to need them back home.

[cdiesta]

The Convenience Store

11:21pm

I left that party earlier than I expected, but I also did not expect it to be that…un-fun.

The people were utterly boring and Ann—who invited me there, talked to me for a good five minutes before ditching me in the wild.

One problem: I am all out of money for a taxi and the best I can do is a bus home. I have been walking for a good hour but I have not seen a single chariot of public transportation just yet. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any vehicles.

I don’t remember the road being this unoccupied when I arrived earlier by Grab. I know, if I had money to Grab from home, why not to home, right? Well…I wanted to look good when I arrived? Come on, don’t judge a brother.

Plus, I was pretty sure I was going to hitch a ride from whoever was going my general direction, but clearly leaving the party early did not include these perks.

Did I take a wrong turn somewhere? It’s just that this is all so unfamiliar and I am usually pretty good at remembering landmarks. I can’t really check my phone for GPS since I’m all out of mobile data, so I’m stuck with my instincts.

Wait.

Over there.

A light.

This has been the only sign of civilization since I left Ann’s house, and I am ecstatic to at least ask another living soul for directions—or at least where I am. Jesus if they could ask me how my day was I’ll definitely oblige—the hour of walking is exhausting.

As I come closer, I see that the light is coming from a small establishment. A convenience store.

YES!

I push open the glass door and the chimes signify that a customer has arrived.

A cheerful-looking lady await me in the cashier.

Her mouth opened a little and she looked surprised to see me. Maybe she was expecting to slack off the whole evening.

“Welcome to 8-12! Open 8 days a week, 12 months long!” she chimed in a loud and cheerful—but monotonous—tone. I still heard her hesitation though, so I guess she really wasn’t expecting someone to come in at this hour.

Also…what a weird catchphrase. I don’t give it another thought as companies are known to make some kind of catchy slogan that doesn’t really make sense.

I make my way to the counter.

“Hello miss. Do you happen to know which way the nearest bus station is?” I ask.

She looks at me like I asked her why she’s not giving me the money in the counter. She does not answer though.

“The bus station. Or bus stop. Do you know where it is?”

“Delivery is early.” She murmured.

“Sorry?” What did she mean by that? Are the buses here the type that carry cargo like fruits and vegetables on it as well? I mean I’m fine with that but does she mean that I missed it?

“Uh nothing.”

There goes my hopes that someone might point me to the right direction.

I sigh and suddenly, I realize that I haven’t eaten since I left home. I mean I drank a little beer with some chips in the party, but that doesn’t really count.

Alright, if I’m going to continue my journey home, I better get myself something to eat first. I check my phone and see that the time is 11:41. That’s how long I took?

I browse along the shelves and found me a chicken sandwich and soda. This should be enough to get to the bus stop—wherever the fuck it ends up being.

As I walked to the counter, I see a convex security mirror and can’t help myself. I pull out my phone and take a mirror selfie on it. This will be a good story to tell to my friends, if anything.

The cashier is still looking at me weird as I put down my items on counter top. She toots them both and says, “120 pesos, sir.”

Ain’t that a bit expensive? I don’t say that though, as I am too hungry to discuss anything.

My train of thought is interrupted when I notice that she is pointing to the table in the corner. “Please, have a seat.”

You know what, maybe she’s just new here. That will explain her being jumpy and all. I walk toward the table she was pointing to and noticed something odd.

There’s a sign posted on the wall by table. Its one of those gender neutral signs you usually find outside restrooms that are both for male and female. What an extremely odd spot for this sign to be in.

I ignore it and proceed to munch on my sandwich, thinking of my plan of action. I can’t really do anything besides walk toward the same way.

Oh, eureka!

I might not have enough money for a Grab, but I can definitely purchase some mobile data for Maps.

Just before I can stand up and make my way to the counter though, a group of three men enter the store. They look about my age and I know what you’re thinking, but they don’t look suspicious to me at all.

I’ll wait for them to buy whatever they want to buy, then I’ll get my mobile data. I don’t want to be a hassle if they’re just here for a quick beer run.

I watch them converse with the cashier. Shouldn’t they just go straight to the fridges or shelves? Maybe they’re asking for a specific brand. I see the guy talking to the cashier catch a quick glance at me, and it sent shivers down my spine.

What the fuck is the deal with that?

To distract myself, I go on my phone and pretend I’m busy. As you already know, I do not have mobile data, so I don’t really have much to do. I open my Gallery to look at the memes I saved. That should keep me entertained.

I don’t do that though. Upon opening my Gallery, the latest picture I took caught my eye. I open the file and my brows furrow.

I look fine, but the cashier whose reflection should be in the mirror isn’t there. More accurately, something else is in their place. I can’t make it out for some reason, but my phone’s decent camera caught everything in crisp resolution. The cashier though—or whatever is in her place—is just a blurry shadow looking thing with a mouth.

My instincts tell me run.

However, my ears tell me that there are footsteps behind me. Pretty soon, my eyes tell me that the boy having a talk with the “cashier” is now sitting in front of me. Everything feels like its closing onto me. My ears tell me nothing now. All I hear is the sound of my own heartbeat getting louder and louder. I see him mouth the word “hello,” but I have no interest in lip-reading right now.

I slide my vision onto the security mirror once more.

I see myself

And three other very different things.

[concealeddarkness13]

Fire and Steel (Speedrunning Therapy) Part 7

Content warning for forced medical procedures. I’m riding this wave of motivation to write this until it goes away. So, here’s the next part! This one also features writing from @drabbleitout, from the perspective of the TB characters! I say when it is her writing, and when it is my writing. About 7,800 words

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Tagging: @ratracechronicler, @maple-writes, @pen-of-roses, @drabbleitout, and @for-fuchs-sake!

(This section is written by @drabbleitout)

Garnet was always on the other end of calls like this. People reporting loved ones missing, apartments or homes broken into, explaining that invasive, alien feeling of someone else having been in your private space or the sobbing fear of the wellbeing of a loved one. He sat on the couch as an officer rattled off the usual questions. “I’m telling you I’m sure. It was those Auditor bastards.”

“Garnet,” she was young, from one of the nearby precincts, but it was clear in her tone this wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with this sort of thing. “We know you don’t like them, why would you think—?”

“Because of her prosthetics. I’m sure of it, okay?”

“They have no record of human testing.”

“Just look into it, okay?” He glared up at her, worrying his hands. After a moment she nodded, going back to making notes on her tablet. Turning, he looked back at Beau who was seated at the bar, shoulders fallen, head heavy, allowing the technician to access the port on his neck and retrieve memories from the night before. He looked scattered, leaning to the side where they’d used the diffuser to attach his mobility system, leaving the entire right side unresponsive. Judging by what little charge he had, they’d come early in the night, meaning he’d lied there hours before Garnet found him.

Useless. You’re fucking useless. That little voice hissed from the corner of his mind. He had to tear his stare away from Beau.

He was easily distracted as the towering form of Ives emerged through the door. His hair hung messily in his face, mouth opening as if he needed to breathe, clearly having to cool his systems as if he’d ran all the way there —and it dawned on Garnet he probably did. He’d heard over the scanners. He’d pieced it together. Scanning the room he noticed Beau, slipping past detectives studying the broken door lock and starting towards him.

And then he noticed Garnet.

Averting sharply, he marched over to the couch. “How did you let this happen?” Was the first thing out of his mouth. The first thing in three years he’d ever said directly to him. Garnet almost couldn’t believe it, watching the widen intensity of Ives stare narrow into a searing glare. “You saw what happened yesterday at the station. You know they had an interest in her. How could you be so stupid to let this happen?”

“I didn’t let it happen.” Garnet snarled, pressing himself up to his feet, hating that he still lacked a few inches in comparison.

“Well, you certainly didn’t stop it.” Ives growled. And for all of Garnet’s searing rage he knew Ives was right. That was the worst part, he was right.

The technicians finished with Beau, helping him regain control of his right side and heading for the door.

“If you’ve done this to spite me, congratulations Lieutenant, you’ve won. You’ve done it.”

“Hold the fuck up! You think I let them come and take her just to piss you off?” Garnet stepped closer, glaring up into his searing icy stare. “That I would let anyone hurt her because of you? How fucking egocentric are you?” He stabbed a finger into Ives’ chest, close enough now as if daring him to get physical. “I don’t give a fuck about you, and I don’t know why you’re pretending like you care about her. You’ll fucking ditch her in a few years like you did everyone else.”

Ives’ glare wrinkled as if he’d been struck somewhere, but never pulled away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Clearly,” Garnet nodded, “because you never think of anyone else. You up and left your entire family. Ryker, Valletta, me, all of us. You rather go play soldier with breaching. Just can’t get rid of that based programming, can you?” It was Ives’ turn to step in, backing Garnet to the couch threatening to shove him over it.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The fuck I don’t.”

“Stop, stop, stop,” Beau whimpered, pulling at Ives trying to create space between them.

“You don’t give a shit about Chess, you just want new attention!”

“Don’t pleasure yourself by assuming you know anything about me,” Ives moved as if he may lift a threatening hand, Beau taking the opportunity to slip between him and Garnet, pushing them apart. “You accepted full responsibility when you brought her into your home. What happened was your fault!”

“I know you fucking asshole! I know! You think I don’t feel fucking terrible about that!”

“Do you ever feel, Lieutenant? I’ve yet to see you care for anyone. Why wouldn’t you dismiss Chess, you do everyone else.”

“Ives, it was me!” He barked wedging himself in place, trying not to choke on his words. “I was the one who was there and let it happen. If you’re going to be angry at anyone, be angry at me. Garnet didn’t know. He wasn’t there.”

“Beau,” Garnet hissed, grabbing his shoulder.

“I was there. I was right there and I let them take her.” He pointed at the floor where their bed had been. “I didn’t hear them come in or sense them, not until it was too late. Garnet was in the other room, sleeping. He didn’t know.” Beau’s voice shook, the warning of a critical charge level blinking in his HUD. “Garnet would never want anything to happen to her I know you care a lot about Chess, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t.”

The intensity never left Ives’ stare, flickering up to Garnet before easing back a step. Detectives at the door stopped to watch, scrambling to go back to their work as Ives spotted them. “It wasn’t your fault,” Ives said with great difficulty, even if he meant it. “Either of you.”

Garnet scoffed, helping Beau take a seat on the couch. “You just came from one of their labs, you didn’t see her?”

“I didn’t know I should be looking for her there,” Ives growled.

“She could be at any of them,” Beau weakly said, touching his throat at the strange wheezing noise. Heat tarnished.

“Alright, let’s hear it,” the gruff voice turned them all to the door finding Detective Khan entering. He was half shrugged into a sports coat, sweatshirt on underneath looking as if he’d just rolled out of bed. He scratched his bald head, giving the room a quick swivel before turning back to them. “Well, go on? What happened?”

“The hell are you doing here?” Garnet grumbled.

“I heard a call that a Mediator’s apartment had been broken into and someone was reported missing. Might have low key hoped it was you, Lieutenant,” he joked grimly. “Seriously, cut the shit. What happened?”

“Auditors came in, in the middle of the night. Around two, maybe?” Beau struggled to recall. Everything felt blurry and scrambled. He was trying not to cry at the memory of Chess’ cries, the way she’d looked at him as they drug her away. “They’re interested in her type of prosthetics.”

“It’s a long story.” Ives quickly added.

“I’m a detective, Ives, long stories are kinda my thing.”

“She’s got some foreign prosthetics, not from here. Auditors are interested in the technology.” Garnet rushed through it, “They’ve probably taken her back to a lab.” Khan glanced between them.

“You got proof it’s Auditors?”

“Not enough time to go into it, but yeah. Clock’s tickin’, Khan.”

“Doesn’t stop either,” he shrugged. “Alright, I’m gonna have to get details later, but I’ll take your word for it given your… backgrounds. We need to narrow down which lab. It couldn’t be far, they wouldn’t have moved her to HQ but not too far from it either. You,” he pointed at Ives, “Come with me back to the office, explain on the way. You two, get cleaned up and head in. We’ll talk more once you’re there. Get him some batteries or something, he looks like he might be a fire hazard at this point.” He gave Beau a pat on the head. “Let’s move, boys.”

* (Now back to Chess’s POV)

I…I was slumped in a chair. I opened my eyes to a sterile white room. Three different bastards were flitting around the room, looking at all the fucking monitors with numbers and charts and all that medical shit. I clenched my jaw to keep myself from cussing them all out.

One of the Auditors, a woman with a tight bun, pulled down something hanging from the ceiling, looking like a wide cylinder. She put that over my chest. “What’s your age?” she muttered, not looking at me.

I glared at her. “Fuck you.”

A voice spoke over a speaker. “Told you Maverick, she doesn’t talk.” I glanced around for escape routes, but there was nothing. Only cameras pointed at me from every corner of the room.

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged and brought over a cart that had all the fucking medical torture tools. “Go ahead and run scans, I’ll check the teeth.” She grasped my jaw with a gloved hand, and I tried to bite at her, but she got a good leverage and forced my jaw open a little. The pressure she put on my jaw hurt so badly that tears blurred my vision. “Open or I’ll use force.”

“Don’t forget, we’ve got IV5 just down the hall,” the voice said over the speaker.

Shit. I huffed out some smoke from my nose, but I opened my jaw willingly.

The bastard also known as Maverick brought a mirror into my mouth, looking for a long time. “Mid twenties,” she said, saying other things that I didn’t understand. “What’s the temperature reading we’ve got on the lungs?”

“500, 260 Celsius,” one of the other bastards called. “This is insane. It’s like a furnace in there. But we’re looking at biological tissue. And you should see this DNA. I’ve never seen combinations like this.”

I started shaking at their words. I was always going to be an experiment. “This is gonna be fun then, isn’t it?” Maverick said, finally letting go of my face. “Want to tell us what you know? What country did you get these from?”

I kept glaring at her. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you know what’s good for you. This could be a type of weapon they’re developing. There could be war on the rise.”

One of the other bastards looked at me. “Maybe we should start producing more of the IV5’s bring them back in case we need to deploy them. Guess we don’t need any more test runs in the Mediator services.” Fuck.

“I’m sure we could convert the B0’s too. That one would probably make a good spy if we could filter out the empathy,” another bastard chimed in. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Let’s worry about what we can find here first,” Maverick said. “We need to find out how her body is housing the fire like this. Figure out what’s going on in her DNA, take more samples if we have to. I want everything looked over before we get a Doctor involved. When they see we have a human subject they’re going to flip unless we have a good case.”

“Human,” one of them added mockingly with air quotes.

“Either way, we need to prove our case,” Maverick continued. “Good catch, Steve.”

The person over the speaker chuckled. “What can I say? I have an eye for precious gems.” So, he probably was the person I had punched.

“Can you imagine if we could figure out how to get this into Synthetics?” She grabbed my head again and turned it both ways as she grabbed a pair of scissors. Fuck, what was she going to do? And what were they going to do to Ives and Beau? “Programmable units that could harness fire? We’d lead the way in artic exploration or warfare. What else could we get, water? Earth? Can you imagine being able to stop an earthquake?”

“Or cause one.”

Maverick didn’t respond, just pulling at the collar of Beau’s hoodie. I watched in horror as she cut down the center and then the sleeves as well. She pulled it off of me and threw it away. I stared at the bin, and that was the last straw.

I started sobbing. “I’m not from this fucking planet! You don’t need to worry about any fucking wars because of me! I don’t even fucking know how I got here!”

“Bingo, got us an E.T.” one of them cheered. “Told you, not human.”

“Got that on record, Steven?”

“Yep.”

“So we’ve got some alien tech here. At least that’s something we know what to do with, right?” Maverick chuckled. “Oh cut the act, no one believes the tears.”

I couldn’t fucking stop. They were going to hurt Beau and Ives. They were going to use them for wars. And it was all my fault. I couldn’t even try to fix it, or they’d still get hurt. One of the others muttered as I continued. “B0 does that same thing sometimes, drives me up a friggin’ wall. Like, we get it, you can play charades.”

Maverick held my head back and still as I kept sobbing. She cut pieces of my hair off, putting them into a bag and sealing it. She then grabbed my hair and pulled it up on top of my head before she undid the cuffs. But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t do anything or they’d hurt Ives and Beau.

She wasn’t looking at me. “Ok, if you want to send in the gurney. I’m moving her to room 445C for scans and testing.” The doors opened with a shriek, and I flinched. Other bastards rolled up a table to the chair. “I’m so glad we can just make the Synths get up here if we need them to. I’m not about all this struggling.”

Two bastards lifted me out of the chair and onto the table, cuffing my prosthetic arm to the table. I didn’t struggle, just trying to stop sobbing. I squeezed my eyes shut, and more tears streaked down my cheeks as the pushed me down to lie down on the table. I flinched when cold scissors touched my skin, and I opened my eyes to see them cutting the right collar and sleeve of my shirt and the left side of the shorts. Beau’s clothes were so ruined. It was all my fault. I should have kept my old clothes on.

They strapped me down once I lay down on the table, and they rolled me out of the room. The lights in this fucking building were bright and hurt my eyes, and I squinted against them, starting to get a headache from all the crying and brightness and exhaustion. It took forever, but they finally brought me to another room, where there were other things hanging from the ceiling. I had no idea what I was even looking at.

Maverick pulled one of them down, and that one held some ring-like fixtures that could go around my arm. “Alright, we’re starting some scans.” She pulled the edge of the table so that my prosthetic arm was brought up perpendicular to my body. I couldn’t move it. She stepped away, but looked back at me. “I wouldn’t struggle too much. Once this gets to going you really don’t want it coming in contact with your skin.”

She left, and I stared at the machine as the lights dimmed and it started moving around my arm. It came dangerously close to my skin, and tears slipped down my cheeks as I tried to stay as still as I could. Even once the machine was done, no one came back.

*

Time passed in a blur of tests and pain and periods of silence where I didn’t have anything to think about except how terrible I was for putting Ives and Beau in danger. I didn’t know how long it had been since I had been captured, but I refused to eat or drink as much as I could. They would probably drug the food and water.

The lights were blinding me, but I had nothing else to look at. I didn’t want to move. But then movement appeared on the edge of my vision, and I looked over slightly to see someone else I hadn’t seen before. He was older, with short, dark hair and glasses. He stared at me, and he looked worried. Why would he look worried? What was the point of pretending?

He said something, but I couldn’t understand. He leaned away, speaking to someone else, and the lights dimmed a moment later. I blinked as he sat down next to me with a huff, getting closer to me.

“You must be Chess,” he whispered, sounding kind. Why the fuck were they doing this? There was no way I’d believe that someone would be kind now. “I know you’re probably feeling terrible at the moment. I hear you haven’t been eating.”

I would never eat. They totally drugged the food, and I wasn’t about to compromise myself even more than I already had. I snarled. “Fuck you.” I hated how weak and raspy my voice sounded.

“That’s understandable. I take no offense to it. Please, don’t be afraid. I’m not here to test or prod. I’m supposed to just be surveying. Seeing the work, so to speak.” He was still a damn bastard. “Although I know you have absolutely no reason to trust me.” He leaned back to grab a tablet from the counter near me, propping it in his lap to look over it. “I also know you have no reason to trust me, but you seriously should eat something.” He frowned, looking up at me as he scooted to be in line with my head. He held up the tablet for me to see, but it all looked like nonsense. He pointed at the top right corner that read: ‘Subject Title/Model’ where it was filled with question marks. What the fuck did that matter to me? Why was he showing me this?

“Ives told me about you. Not, well, not about this. But I heard the others using him to threaten you into complying.” He leaned closer to whisper. “Ives was released days ago. He isn’t here. They can’t hurt him or Beau. They’re actually very low level engineers, they don’t speak for the company or make any decisions. I promise you, neither of them are in any danger.”

Fuck that. I couldn’t believe that. I coughed weakly, releasing a little bit of smoke. “You’re just…trying to make me more compliant. I won’t eat anything they give me.”

“I know you can’t believe me. I don’t blame you for that. And I won’t ask you to do that and I’m not here to force feed you either.”

He glanced at the door and hesitated before continuing. “I work closely with Beau and Ives. I do examinations at Station Six. I’ve met Ryker and Garnet, and Ives told me you’ve met them too. I admit, there aren’t many who are compassionate in this line of work, and this is far from ethical. I’m going to get word to them you’re here, and get them to you.” He moved back, putting the tablet back on the counter. He then grabbed another tool and used it to actually loosen the cuff on my wrist. I blinked and stared at him, but I couldn’t just believe what he said.

“I’m sorry I can’t do much more right away. And even if you don’t believe me, I want you to know I’m going to get a message to them. As soon as I leave this room. But I wanted to see if there’s anything I can get you in the meantime?”

I just shook my head, staring at him. What was the point of all this? Why would they do this?

“I cannot apologize enough for what’s happened, and I promise you there will be consequences for this.” He pulled out what looked like a pouched drink as he whispered. There it was. The reason they wanted me to believe him. So they could get me to have their fucking drugged drink. “I won’t make you, but will you at the very least drink this?” He opened it, and I started to snarl, but he then drank some of it, and I clearly saw him swallow. What? “It’s electrolytes, just to give you energy. Just so they won’t force you to eat. If they see your levels going too low, they will. This should buy you enough time until I can get someone here.

“Again, you have no reason to trust me. But I swear to you, I’m getting you help.” He offered the drink, and, I stared.

Damnit. But he drank it, and he had swallowed. And I was nauseous from hunger, but I could probably have a drink at least. And getting force-fed sounded worse. “Fine.” I leaned forward as best I could to take sips. And it felt so nice to my dry mouth.

He smiled. “Not too much too quickly. You don’t want to be ill. Hopefully this will give you a little more strength, just to hold on a little bit longer.” I drank as much as I could before I felt too nauseous. He nodded and stood up. “Let me act quickly. I’ll be back with help.” He pushed the stool back in place and left. I stared after him, just hoping I hadn’t made a terrible mistake to trust him.

* (Writing from @drabbleitout)

Another night with nothing. Another night Garnet wasn’t sleeping. Beau tried making dinner, not nearly as accustomed to it, bringing it into the bedroom where Garnet worked over his laptop and tablet. He didn’t stop. Between shifts, sometimes even on shift, and nearly all night long. He’d only pause for a cigarette or if his body involuntarily dropped him into sleep while in the middle of his research.

Ives fared no better.

It was the most discussion Beau had seen between them since his activation. Emails, messages, texts of swapping information, digital threads in search of a lead as if they were their own detective department. Beau would catch up to their updates only to fall behind in his attempt to keep them both up and running.

It was midnight when he finally gave up, locking up, pulling the curtains to, going back into the bedroom. Expectedly, Garnet was still working, food only half touched on the nightstand. “Jaime, we need a break,” he whispered, unheard. Beau moved closer, stepping around to plug in Garnet’s phone to charge, putting away the tablet that wasn’t currently glued to his hand and cutting out the table light.

“Hey,” Garnet finally peeled his stair away from the screen, squinting.

“That’s enough,” Beau whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’ve done enough today.”

“It’s enough when we find her. We’ve got it down to two. We’ve almost got it. We’ve almost… figured out…” he went quiet as Beau cupped his face in his hands, thumbs petting his cheeks.

“Please?” Beau whispered, “You’re wearing yourself out. Even if you found out tonight, you’re in no condition to go out. I saw the way you were driving today. You need rest.”

“I can’t.” Garnet hissed, pulling his face free to turn back to his laptop.

“You can. You have to.” Beau reached for the screen, stopping as Garnet caught his wrist. “Garnet, you barely get sleep on a good day, you’ve had less that eight hours since it happened. You’ve done enough.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You need to sleep—”

“I can’t! I have to figure this out. It’s been nearly a week. You know what Khan said they could have moved her somewhere. You know how this works. Just like any other kidnapping, but they’ve got money and resources. They could be anywhere. If we don’t find her—” Beau scooted closer, pulling him into his shoulder.

Garnet froze, as tense as an overtuned piano string. His heart was racing, thoughts scattered, his electromagnetic field practically jittering in Beau’s scanners. The light from the laptop skewed across the wall, fallen from his lap onto the bed. Garnet didn’t reach for it. His breath jumped, catching. It wasn’t until wet warmth soaked into the shoulder of Beau’s shirt did he realize Garnet was crying.

Beau leaned their heads together, carefully petting over his coily hair, over and again. “You’ve done enough, Jaime… it’s enough.”

“No,” he croaked, shaking as his arms wrapped around Beau. He ducked his face into his neck, trying to hide from the creaking sobs, fingers winding into his shirt. “I should’ve heard. I should’ve heard them.”

“I know it doesn’t feel like it, but it’s okay. You were sleeping. You didn’t expect them to come here.”

“I saw a car in the parking lot,” Garnet sniffled, difficult for him to speak as he shook with sobs. “At the station. I didn’t listen to my gut. I should’ve listened!” Beau blindly reached behind him, closing the laptop and moving it aside before rocking to the side, pulling Garnet down to the bed.

“We’re going to find her,” Beau whispered. “We’ll find her,” over and over like a mantra, soothing a hand across Garnet’s back. He stayed that way as Garnet fell asleep, and even still as he slept. Never going into stasis. Never moving. Watching the black sky wake into a sickly grey and steel blue, syncing to Garnet’s phone to screen calls and notifications, shutting off his alarm before it could blare out. He notified Ryker that they’d be late, giving him an extra hour of sleep before giving in to wake him.

*

He was still exhausted as they went into the station, bombarded by Ives in the parking lot as he waited at the back door. Just as he had every morning. He never went to his own apartment anymore, staying in the barracks, working at the station.

“Khan wants to see us,” Ives said, following them in. “Right away.”

“The fuck? Why didn’t you call me?”

“He just notified me. I thought it had something to do with you when you didn’t show. But he wouldn’t disclose any information.” Beau followed them, concerned with Kahn calling them in. They traveled upstairs to the detective offices, Garnet pushing Khan’s door open to stop.

“I think we have her,” Khan announced.

Beau could no longer stand, sliding down the door jamb to sit in the floor.

“Hey Doc, it’s Garnet,” his voice was thick, knee bouncing as he fought to hold himself together. “You gotta –a status report? How’s she doing?”

“Physically not terrible,” he breathed into the phone, shuffling clear that he was trying to stay out of sight, wherever he was. “She’s a bit weak, refusing food and fluids. Still quick with the tongue, that’s for sure. So far it’s just been studies. I can’t say it hasn’t been… traumatic. But there’s been no cutting or surgery of any kind.”

“Do you have the location?” Ives pressed.

“I’m sending it over now. There’s a shift change at eight. I can probably get into security, get the doors and everything open for you if you’ve got a team to come down here.” Beau barely heard the rest, eyes watering with the overwhelming news. Of course, he hadn’t stopped thinking they would find her. It had only been the last few days the thought of not finding her alive began to root it’s way into him. But now they had hope. They had a chance.

"We'll be on our way." Khan announced.

*

Beau was the only one with enough common sense to drive. Given clearance from Khan, the three of them were allowed to move in on the lab with five other officers in wait behind them. Yew cleared them through the gate, relaying which cameras were clear. Any that weren’t, Ives took little time to cut and repeat their feed, giving them a clear entrance.

“I’m on point,” he said with little room to argue. Garnet nodded without another word.

“Shift change has been delayed, but there’s no time to wait,” Yew came over the comms. “They’ve started a procedure without any clearance. You need to move in now." Beau screeched to the curb, all of them piling out in full riot gear, making movements awkward and slow for Beau. He hurried after them, already hacking at the pad of the door.

Without warning Ives staggered, a shrieking round flying into the side of the building from somewhere unknown. TLN splattered on the wall, dark and shimmering, leaking from Ives’ side. He turned in search of the gunman, almost growling as he turned for the door and kicked it at the brace bar causing it to fold inward with a horrific shriek. With rifle raised he shoved inside, Garnet checking the parking lot for the shooter as he pressed Beau inside, following shortly.

Auditors stopped as they stepped out into the hall, reeling back into their rooms. "You need to go up two floors. Take a right from the stairwell. Third door on your left." Yew informed. Ives took off in a sprint, Garnet struggling to keep up with them as they hurried for the closest stairwell. Beau and Ives effortlessly took two stairs at a time, Garnet fighting for air as the lack of sleep and meals came bearing down on him.

"You're interfering with city jurisdiction. If you do not stand down I will have no choice but to fire." Ives announced, rifle to his shoulder, threatening any of the Auditors that tried to step out in his way. Beau drew his shock pistol, covering him as they inched down the hallway. The room in question opened, releasing an Auditor in medical gear, spilling screams into the hall.

Chess' screams.

Ives gave no second warning. He fired on the three Auditors, stun bullets sending them convulsing to the floor. He considered drawing his firearm as well, wanting to pull real bullets through them, but heeded the warnings in his HUD as he stepped over them towards the door. The Auditor in medical scrubs stammered at his approach, making a sad effort to block the door. Ives grabbed them by their collar, and slung them with all his force down the hall. He backed away from the door, taking three long strides and throwing all of his weight, shoulder first, into it.

It flew off its track, crashing into the far wall of the room.

* (Back to Chess’s POV!)

The bastards had just walked in and quickly brought out medical tools and hooked me up to machines. They just pushed an oxygen mask on me, and I tried not to start crying all over again. I had to obey, just in case Beau and Ives could be hurt.

They didn’t even bother to give me some kind of sedation before they grabbed some heavy duty tools and started prying at my prosthetic arm. Oh fuck. Instant pain burned up my arm, and I screamed and tried to cower away from them, but they just held me down as one of them kept prying at my arm. And I kept screaming, starting to cough up smoke as tears leaked from my eyes.

And then...they were gone. First the people who were holding me down and then the person who was prying at my arm. I barely registered that as I kept sobbing and coughing up smoke, but then someone else moved into view…and they were a cop with a helmet on, hiding their features. Fuck. I tried to cower away from them as they took the oxygen mask away from my face, until they spoke and I froze.

“Chess? Chess, l-little one, I’m here.”

I blinked and remembered and stared, starting to cry worse. I tried to take deep breaths. “Ives,” I croaked.

He tore his helmet off, and there he was. I saw him. He gasped in breaths as well, looking me over. And…he started crying. He tore the straps away from me. “It’s me. I’m here. I’ve got you.” I cried worse. He was here. I…I was safe. I hadn’t hurt him because of my presence. He was ok. He scooped me up gently, and I clung to him, still sobbing.

“I’m taking you home,” he said softly, and I believed him. I…I was safe. He held me close as he walked me out of the building, and I held onto him tighter.

I kept sobbing. “I’m…I’m sorry. They threatened you and Beau. And I couldn’t…I couldn’t do what you asked. I couldn’t put my safety over yours. I had to cooperate. I couldn’t let you get hurt.”

“Please, stop apologizing,” he wheezed. “You did nothing wrong. It isn’t your fault. You did everything you could and you did such a good job. I’m the one who’s sorry. I wasn’t careful that day, I should have stood watch to make sure no one would see you. I put you at risk and I got you hurt. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I shook my head, about to argue that it was all my fault. That I had put him in danger by punching the Auditor and I should have done better in not letting them see me. But Ives stiffened, and I blinked and looked up at him. He looked panicked as he looked down and over at me. “I have to get you out.” He sounded unsteady as he rushed out of the building. I barely noticed how nice it was to be in the sun again as I started panicking all over again. What had I done? Was Ives getting hurt for coming to rescue me?

He set me down, but I held onto him. “Get in the car,” he begged, and his voice sounded weird. He clawed at the handle of the police car Garnet and Beau used. “Please, get in the car.”

I would not leave him. Not again! I would protect him! I started sobbing all over again. I held his hands tightly. “No. I won’t. I’m not leaving you. What’s going on?” I looked around for anyone, and Beau and Garnet were leaving the building too. “Please! Something’s wrong!”

Ives tried to push me away. “Get-“ He stumbled, one hand catching the roof of the car so he wouldn’t fall. He wrenched his head aside, and I stared. I had done this. It was all my fault. He was here, and something was happening because of this!

“Ives? Ives, what is it?” Beau walked closer cautiously.

“In-fected.” Ives’s voice was scratchy, and he pulled away from me, getting stiff and not moving. I screamed a sob as I walked closer to Ives. There had to be something I could do!

“Chess.” Garnet sounded worried. “Chess, come here. Slowly come over here.”

But…but everything had just been fine! I couldn’t leave Ives now! Not when he had just saved me! I couldn’t do that! “What did I do? Did I hurt him? I’m sorry!”

Garnet edged over to me and eased a hand around my arm, trying to pull me away gently, and I tried to resist, but I was too weak. “No, it wasn’t you kid. This wasn’t you. You didn’t hurt him.” But it was my fault! A loud gunshot sparked off the roof of the car, and I cowered. This was all my fault. “Beau, take a step back. A few steps back, Bud.”

Beau didn’t move. “Ives,” he whispered.

Garnet reached for his radio. “1-65 to dispatch. I need a tech out to my location now.” He brought his hand to his ear. “Yew, we got a situation. One of these guerilla fucks are out here firing infection rounds. They got Ives—Beau, I said back up. Now!”

I stared as Ives started moving again, having jerking movements as he turned to Beau. His…his eyes. There was no whites to his eyes or blue color, just lenses that were red. I froze. I couldn’t move. Ives was hurt.

Ives lunged at Beau and tackled him to the ground, and Garnet scooped me up and ran for the car. “Shit, shit, shit.” He opened the door. “Do what he says, get in the car.”

I was useless. There was nothing I could do to help. So, I just got in the car and watched as I tried to get myself to stop sobbing.

Beau pushed back Ives from slamming him against the wall. Ives grabbed for Beau’s neck instead, succeeding in wrapping his hand around Beau’s throat as Beau called for Garnet.

“Don’t look, kid.” Garnet turned me away, and I flinched and squeezed my eyes shut as gunshots rang out. Ives…Ives was going to die, and it was all my fault. But then Garnet cursed, and I had to look again as Ives rushed the car. Garnet slammed the car door closed, but Ives still grabbed him and slammed him on the hood of the car. No! I couldn’t lose any of them! I started punching the glass window with my prosthetic, trying to get out and help, but I was too weak. I coughed up smoke, tears still streaking down my cheeks. I couldn’t let them get hurt!

I vaguely saw Garnet punch Ives and narrowly avoided getting hit himself. He punched Ives again, but Ives caught sight of me and froze, staring. I froze too. This wasn’t Ives. It wasn’t his fault. Why? Why did this happen? Why did he have to get hurt? I deserved it more!

“Beau, get in the car and drive!” Garnet punched Ives again and tried to get him in a headlock, but Ives just pulled Garnet with him before pulling him off and throwing him. Ives walked closer, and I couldn’t do anything but stare.

Beau screamed something, but I barely heard it, just staring at Ives. He didn’t do anything, just stared back. A sob wracked my body. “Please. You said we’d go to the beach together.” My voice came out small and broken.

Ives stumbled, falling to a knee. I gasped and moved closer to the window. Maybe…maybe he was fighting back? A pained expression came to his face, and he looked up at me with a blue eye. He was still there! I…I had to help him somehow! I started punching at the window again. I had to get out and help him!

"Ḃ̴̯e̸͉͌a̸͕͆u̴̖͌,̶̉ͅ ̴̈͜s̵̟̓h̴̩̕ű̷̼t̷̼͐ ̶̹͝m̴̦͘ė̵͚ ̸̲̎ḍ̵̒ó̷̦w̴̲̿n̴͕͛.̸͕̈́" He had such a mechanical voice, but I could tell he was in pain. I had to help!

He bowed his head and stood again. His eyes were back to red as he smashed through the window and grabbed me by the throat, squeezing too tightly. I gasped, tears streaking down my cheeks as I stared at him. I tried to scrabble at his hand, but he knocked away my left arm and grabbed my prosthetic arm tightly by the wrist. I cried out as a sharp pain shot up my arm.

I just kept staring at him, trying to gasping in a breath. “I…I can’t…” I can’t fight you.

Darkness threatened to overtake me, but Beau jumped at Ives’s head, catching a leg across Ives’s face, throwing his weight, which got Ives to let go. I collapsed in the seat, gasping for breath and coughing up smoke. I just curled up, trying to regain my breath and not pay attention to anything. They…they would probably have to kill him to stop him. And I couldn’t fight him.

I heard some gunshots, but I didn’t look up. It was all so overwhelming, and I squeezed my eyes shut and held my head. I was useless.

Glass broke from a window near me. “Chess? Chess??” I looked up to see Garnet, and I just sobbed worse, unable to get any words out. He looked back outside the car. “Beau, duck!” Some other gun went off, and Garnet turned back to me.

I could hear the doctor who had seen me before. “Get Ives into repair, now. Lieutenant, how is Chess?”

Garnet picked me up, and I sobbed into his shoulder, unable to speak. “You okay? Can you look at me? Can you breathe?”

I just nodded. “I’m…” But then I looked up and panicked all over again. Ives was passed out on the ground, and there were fucking Auditors surrounding him! They were going to hurt him because I tried to escape! I tore myself out of Garnet’s grip and ran for Ives. “You fuckers aren’t taking Ives!”

The doctor tried to block me. “Please, Chess, please. We need to take him in. He’s been infected and if we don’t hurry he could infect Beau, or hurt someone worse. You’ve seen what can happen. We have to get him quarantined.”

I snarled at him. “Like they took me in?!” I ran around him and charged the Auditors, clenching my fists, fully ready to punch any of them who got in my way. But they backed away, so I was able to get to Ives, and I stood protectively over him, glaring at anyone who got close.

They just stared at me, not moving, but Beau walked up and touched my shoulder and nodded. I looked over at him, starting to sob all over again. I wouldn’t actually be able to stop the Auditors. They’d take Ives and hurt him. “Please. They can’t take him.”

“It’s okay.” Garnet spoke. Beau must have not been able to speak. “They’re the only ones who can help him, Chess.” Beau nodded. “Dr. Yew is going to help him.”

Even Beau and Garnet were saying they weren’t going to hurt him. I…had to trust them. I slumped and moved away, my body shaking with silent sobs. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

Beau hugged me tightly, and I hugged him back. My tears were finally drying up. Beau was unsteady on his feet, and I wasn’t much better, but I tried to help steady him.

Garnet walked over and helped steady both of us. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “How do you feel? You wanna sit down?”

They were doing something near Ives in the background, and I made sure to keep my eyes away from that. “I might need to sit down. I’m fucking exhausted, and I haven’t had any food the whole time. But…I’m fine. What about you?” I looked over at Beau, and, oh fuck. He was so hurt. Was that from trying to stop Ives? “I’m…I’m sorry, Beau. I didn’t even notice… What can I do to help?”

Beau shook his head as he leaned on the car with a thin smile. “He says he’ll be alright,” Garnet said. “We wanna make sure you’re alright. You’re probably dehydrated, probably can’t get you any solids for a bit.” He glanced over, and I looked too, to see an ambulance pulling up. I tensed. Would I have to go to the hospital? “I’m not a doctor, Chess, but you probably need to get checked out by a medic. And I know -I know with what you just went through. But you got roughed up back there.”

I nodded. I felt like shit, so he probably was right. “I’ll go. I just…might panic a little. Is there any way you could come with me? I don’t wanna be alone right now.” I could barely believe I was free again. And Garnet and Beau and Ives and the others cared so much about me as to help me.

“Absolutely.” Garnet grinned. “Might’ve broken my hand.” Beau leaned over and picked up something that I only now noticed was part of his arm. Shit. “Beau says he’s going to catch a ride back with someone for Mikki to look him over. She should be able to fix it, uh, without an Auditor’s help.”

I just felt more nauseous. It was because of me that he had even gotten hurt. Beau smiled and opened his mouth, but it was just static and clicking that came out. He shrugged, and Garnet spoke. “He’ll come meet us after. Oh, and bring Niner.”

I nodded and hugged Beau tightly. “Be safe. And I’d better see you soon, or my righteous fury will burn all the bad guys down.” I smiled shakily as I pulled back and looked back at Garnet. “Thank you so much.” I hugged him tightly too. I…I loved hugs. “I was…so scared.”

He chuckled, patting my back. “You’re one tough gal. You had every right to be scared. I…” He took a breath. “I was scared too, kid. I’m glad you’re okay.”

There was a jingle, and I looked up to see people coming out of the ambulance in medical uniforms. Garnet waved at them. “We need a ride to the hospital. I’m going with her, so, go ahead and call us both in.” He reached out to Beau, brushing over his head and pulling him close to press a kiss to his forehead. “Be careful, bud. Call me when you’re done.” He stepped back and led me to the ambulance.

I had to focus to take try to take less unsteady steps, and I took Garnet’s hand as we walked. I…I didn’t want to think about what happened for a bit, so I glanced over at Garnet, a smile pulling at my lips. “What’s going on between you and Beau? I saw that kiss.”

“Adrenalin makes me emotional.” He chuckled. “And, uh, and I worry about him. Why, you want one? They’re free today. Usually run you twenty bucks.” He signaled to the medic in the ambulance and helped me step into the ambulance.

I laughed, wincing a little at how weak it sounded. “I wouldn’t mind it. It looked nice.” It was nice to talk about normal things again. But then I saw the gurney that the medic was gesturing to, and I started shaking. I didn’t want to get strapped down again. I swallowed hard and looked back at Garnet. “But also, you look exhausted too. Were you getting enough sleep?”

“I’m never getting enough sleep.” He went slow, but he helped me sit on the gurney. He kept hold of my hand the whole time, and when I sat back, he leaned over and kissed my forehead too, and I almost burst into tears again from the gentle touch. He sat down next to me, still holding my hand, as he looked up at the medic. “Hey doc.”

“Third time this month, Garnet.” The medic shook her head. “You robbin’ cradles now?”

“Nah, this is my little sister. She’s been through it, so be nice. Not a fan of needles, runs in the family.”

“Good deal.” She turned to me. “You alright if I close the doors or you need a second, honey?”

I took a deep breath and squeezed Garnet’s hand. I would be ok as long as he was with me. “I’m good with you closing the doors.”

“You got this.” He winked, running a thumb across my knuckles. “We’re gonna be okay.”

[miekasa]

call me (levi ackerman)

↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: fluff, humor? you can be the judge of that i suppose, levi is quiet and often practical, but you cannot convince that there’s not a small part of him that doesn’t enjoy having shit to hold over people lol

↯ notes: this is also cross-posted from another blog, but i tweaked it a bit to fit levi and rewrote/edited parts i wish the world had never seen </3 also i’m reposting bc i was an idiot who accidentally deleted it on mobile rip 

↯ word count: 1.3k

↯ summary: drunk you is not amused by the man who keeps trying to coerce you into his apartment; even if that man is your boyfriend and that apartment is his apartment.

“Alright mister, I’m trusting you for now because you’re Erwinnie’s friend, and Erwinnie is my best friend,” you hiccup, wagging your pointer finger as threateningly as you can in your current state, “So if he says you’re a good person, you’re probably a good person. Or good enough.”

Levi holds back a knowing smirk, and loops his arm through yours to steady your balance. He doesn’t know how or why Erwin let you get this drunk, but he’s at least glad the blonde was sober enough to call him to pick you up instead of letting you get in a cab; or worse, attempt to take the bus.

“I’m so very glad you trust me,” he says, voice flat as your wrap your other arm around his bicep. You hum back, a little spacey and like you maybe didn’t hear what he said.

You’re honestly pretty cute when you’re drunk. It’s not something he gets to see often, as you don’t allow yourself to let go frequently; nor do you usually have the time to. And it’s not that he particularly wishes for you to be drunk to the point where you can barely stand, or remember his name, but all things considered, Levi is happy that your general drunk disposition is happy, too. 

He waves Mike goodbye as he wrangles Erwin into his car, not holding back his smile this time as you wave over-excitedly at the blonde in the passenger seat, calling his name loudly to tell him goodnight and that you’ll miss him, like you hadn’t already told him goodnight three minutes ago, or spent the last three hours with him drinking. Yeah, you’re cute. 

Thankfully, Levi doesn’t live too far from the restaurant you and Erwin were at, so the both of you are home after a twenty minute walk—what should have been fifteen minutes, but was prolonged by your drunken fascination with a squirrel on a public bench.

You start to wobble more when Levi unlaces your arms to get his keys out of his pocket, and he moves his right hand to rest against the small of your back so you don’t fall. However, drunk you is not so entertained by the idea of his hands anywhere near your waist as sober you would have been.

“Hey, hey, hey—hold it right there, mister!” you stutter, words a bit too loud for the confined space of Levi’s hallway at three in the morning, “I am not going in—into that suspicious apartment with you.”

You stumble as you try to remove Levi’s hand from your waist, and he tries to steady your balance again, but push him away more forcefully, staggering into the wall behind you.

“Ah, bitch,” you curse, holding your head and groaning. The pain clearly isn’t enough to stop your accusations against Levi, as you’re back to wagging your finger at him, even hunched over from your drunken stupor, “See, this is your fault.”

Levi sighs. He doesn’t know why you’re holding your head, because you hit your back, and from what he can tell, you shouldn’t have hurt yourself that badly. He’ll take a closer look at you once you’re inside. That’s if he could get you inside to begin with.

He can’t wrangle you and open the door at the same time, so he goes for the latter, finally pulling his keys from his pocket to unlock his apartment door, then attempts to move you inside. Keyword: attempts; because anytime he puts his hands remotely near you, you slap them away.

“Come on, we have to go inside,” he grunts, trying again to get a hold of your arm, but you whack him away harshly. For a drunk person, you seem to have the strength and dexterity of a pro-athlete all of a sudden. Where was all this coordination when he was trying to get you up the stairs five minutes ago?

“No!” you growl—once again, too loudly for the time and place. “Haven’t you heard of the saying no means no, mister? I might be drunk, but this is not my apartment, and I am not going in there to have sex with you!”

“I’m trying to help you go to bed. I’m not going to try and have sex with you.” Levi takes a deep breath. This could sound really bad if anyone else woke up and heard the two of you. 

But you’re not having it, crossing your arms and turning your body so that you’re now facing the wall, your back towards a less-than-impressed Levi. “Well, I don’t believe you. I’m going to call Erwinnie tell him you’re being a bad friend, and then Erwinnie is going to call my boyfriend and he’s going to come and pick me up.”

“Oh yeah?” Levi drawls, leaning against his door frame, watching your silhouette as you clumsily search for your phone in your pockets, “Why don’t you just call your boyfriend then?”

You turn on your heels as best you can, and muster up your most menacing glare. It’s not menacing in the slightest, and it actually makes Levi crack a smile, which you do not take lightly; but that only makes him smile further, because sober you doesn’t like it when he’s not fazed by your self-proclaimed intimidation tactics, either.

“Fine,” you huff, finally putting your phone to your ear, “But you’re going to be sorry, because Levi is going to come here and kick your ass.”

Levi chuckles, feeling his own phone ring in his back pocket, “I bet he is.”

“He is,” you insist, stomping your foot for dramatic effect, “He might not be that tall, but he’s strong as hell, plus he’s handsome, and he doesn’t let people fuck around with me, so say your prayers, mister.”

The following afternoon is far less than pleasant. You feel groggy, tired, and like everything is moving in slow motion. Piece by piece, your memories of your night out with Erwin start to come back to you, but you can’t seem to recall anything beyond your fifth margarita.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Levi calls, sarcastically, upon entering the bedroom.

His voice and presence surprises you, but then the realization washes over you that you’re in his apartment and not your own. You’re not sure why yet, but you could probably take a guess.

“Did you take me home last night?”

Levi hums in acknowledgement, nodding his head towards the bedside table, where you find a bottle of water. Levi watches you as you move to hang your legs off the side of the bed and reach for the bottle, groaning in the process. He mentally notes that he should make you breakfast—or, well, at this point, brunch—after you go shower, so that you can take an Advil for the pain.

He moves across the room to sit beside you on the bed, careful to not disrupt too much as to make you spill the water on the sheets. “You know, for someone who’s so happy-go-lucky when they’re drunk, you put up quite the fight yesterday.”

“I did?” you turn to him, capping the bottle, eyes wide with surprise, “You were probably sleeping and you had wake up and come deal with me, I’m sorry, Levi.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures you, an almost uncharacteristic and sly smile playing on his lips, “You always say something interesting that keeps me entertained. It makes up for it.”

“Dear god, what was it this time?” you groan, throwing your head back, “I didn’t confess my feelings for you again did I? This is, what, like the sixth time since we’ve been dating? I’m such an embarrassing drunk.”

“Not a confession this time,” he chuckles, “The opposite. Maybe worse.”

Levi fishes his phone from his pocket, and pulls up his voicemails before handing it to you. Curious—and a little bit scared—to find out what could possibly be worse than confessing to your boyfriend of almost four years that you’re in love with him and sad that you’re not dating him? You’re not sure that it could get more embarrassing than that until you click on Levi’s most recent voicemail and hear your own voice crackling through the speaker of his phone.

“—What, hey, fuck off, mister! I don’t want to go into your scrubby apartment! I am happily dating Levi Ackerman, and when he gets here he is going to grand slam your sorry ass into the ground!”

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 125.7 Accidental Bonding (Part 7)

(You can start at Part One, if you’d like.)

The whole entire day had sucked.

Harry sat in the corner of the muggle pub he'd wandered into (because it was close to Draco's house and they'd come here for drinks and dinner once and Harry had made him laugh so hard he'd snorted) nursing a scotch (because that's what Draco drank and it made him think of books and coziness) and he wished.

Merlin he wished that he was with Draco right now instead of sitting all alone in this stupid pub.

He glanced up when he heard the tingle of the bells above the door and watched in shock as his two best friends walked in. Harry blinked in surprise, sitting up straighter. "What?" he managed when they clapped eyes on him and made a beeline for his table. "What are you doing here?"

"Like we would be anywhere else when you are obliviously having an emotional breakdown," Hermione replied as she draped her coat over the back of her chair and sat down next to Harry.

Ron slid into the seat across from him, "You really weren't yourself at training today," he added apologetically.

"But how did you find me?" he asked.

Hermione held out her mobile, "You left your 'find my friend' active, so I tracked you."

"I didn't even know that was something people could do."

She nodded, "You learn something new every day," she replied flippantly. "Now tell us. What's going on?"

"Nothing," he said, probably too quickly.

Definitely too quickly if Hermione's expression was anything to go by. "You're drinking scotch," she said, as though that was damning evidence.

(Read more below the cut)

"And?" he asked petulantly.

Ron cleared his throat, "Just, we're here for you, mate," he said. "If there's something you wanted to talk about. We're not going to judge you." He reached across the table and patted Harry on the shoulder, "We just want you to know we love you."

"Okay," Hermione said, "Yes, that, but," she added, "We also want to know what the bloody hell is going on with you and Malfoy."

"Hermione wants to know," Ron said, narrowing his eyes at her, "I'd be glad not to know. If you don't want to talk about it."

"Ronald-"

Harry laughed, he couldn't help himself, and his best friends both looked at him apologetically.

Ron said, "You know you can tell us anything, right?"

"I think I might be in love with Draco Malfoy."

Ron sighed, "I was afraid you were going to say that. I'm going to order a drink and then you can tell us all about it."

----------

Harry spent the next hour talking about Draco, going through the way things had started, to how things had developed, to the way they ended that morning.

"Are you sure he doesn't feel the same way?" Hermione asked.

He nodded miserably, "He told me this morning that he felt the same as he did before the bond."

"He could have been lying," Ron offered.

"I don't think so," he replied, "I've gotten pretty good at detecting when he's not being truthful."

"And you've been checked to make sure there are no traces of the bond left?"

"Yeah. I went to St. Mungo's after work. Apparently I should have been feeling the affects of the bond lessen for the past week or so," he added bitterly. "She ran a thousand diagnostic spells and there's nothing detectable."

"Do you think-" Hermione broke off and bit her lip.

"What?"

She tucked a curl behind her ear, "Do you think it's possible that he liked you before the bond?"

"What? No," he said, shaking his head.

"Right but hear me out," she said, "why would he have asked you to stay for breakfast if he hated you?"

"He didn't say he hated me, he said-"

"That he felt the same as before the bond," she finished.

Ron nodded, "She makes a good point, mate."

"That's impossible! He was just as upset about the bond in the beginning as I was," he protested.

"But was he upset for the same reasons?" she asked.

He sucked his lower lip into his mouth.

"And he did seem pretty..." Ron trailed off.

"Besotted?" Hermione offered and Ron nodded.

"When you brought him with you those times to dinner with us," he finished.

Harry frowned, "No he didn't."

"No offense, mate, but you couldn't see how he was looking at you," Ron said.

"Ron's right," Hermione said, "For all we know he's liked you all along."

"For all we know," Harry argued, "he has hated my guts and that hasn't changed." He shook his head, this wasn't helping, "Let's talk about something else," he said.

Mercifully, his friends dropped it and Hermione started to talk about her day and the law she was trying to push through.

But when they were getting ready to leave Hermione said, "Don't you think you should say something to him?"

"What?" he asked incredulously. "No, I do not think I should say something to him. Are you insane?"

"But the worst case scenario is that he confirms that he hates you, isn't that better than not knowing?" she asked.

He didn't know how to answer her, so he just settled for letting himself be pulled into a hug instead.

"Just think about it," she whispered in his ear and he nodded.

"Come to the burrow for dinner on Sunday," Ron added, giving him a hug, too. "Mum's been missing her favorite son," he added with a wink.

They left the pub and headed toward a little back ally to apparate home. Ron and Hermione went first, and then Harry went; closing his eyes and turning before he was sucked through time and space.

But when he opened his eyes again, he wasn't at his house; he was standing at Draco's front door. He blinked and then Hermione's words rang through his head isn't that better than not knowing?

Without his conscious permission, his hand reached up and knocked on Draco's door. And then he immediately panicked, reaching for his wand as he decided to just apparate away.

Before he could manage it, the door was swung open and Draco said, "yes?" before he caught sight of Harry. Draco's eyebrows shot up and he said on a surprised breath, "Harry."

And it was Harry's undoing.

Draco had called him many things: prat, scarhead, idiot, wanker, Potter, and a thousand others. But he had never used Harry's given name before.

"It wasn't just the bond," Harry finally managed.

"Sorry?" Draco asked, tugging the sleeves of the hoodie he was wearing down so they covered his hands.

Harry blinked, "Is that my hoodie?" he asked, momentarily distracted.

Draco looked down at himself, then back up at Harry pure panic in his eyes, and Harry did the only thing he could do.

He stepped up the final step into Draco's house and kissed him. Harry cupped Draco's face in his hands and molded their mouths together the way he'd been aching to do for weeks.

And Draco immediately melted into the kiss, wrapping his fingers through Harry's hair and holding him close, lining their bodies up fully. "What?" he managed when they broke apart to breathe.

"It wasn't just the fucking bond," Harry said. "Circe. It is so nice to say that. It wasn't the bond," he repeated again because it felt so damn good to get those words out.

"Harry-" Draco said, his voice calm and collected, and Harry knew he was going to try to say something practical, something reasonable but he couldn't stop himself from interrupting.

"Say it again," he begged.

"What?" Draco asked, brow furrowing.

"My name."

Draco's face softened, "Harry," he murmured.

"Godric, Draco," he managed as he swooped back in, pressing the other man back against the wall and snogging him desperately, pouring all of the longing and the aching that he'd been feeling for weeks into the kiss. One hand held his jaw while the other cupped his waist and Harry was flying.

"Harry," Draco groaned into the kiss before he put his hands on Harry's chest and pushed lightly.

Harry took a step back, panting.

"Wait," the other man said. "Just," he shook his head. "Wait a second." Draco scrubbed his hands over his face, "Why are you here?"

"I didn't mean to come here," he said. "I meant to apparate home but I ended up on your doorstep because all I've been able to think about all day is you."

"Right," Draco said, nodding once. "Yeah. We need to get you to St. Mungo's. Obviously the bond has-"

"It. is. not. the. bond," Harry repeated, resisting the urge to shout it but only just.

"This isn't right," he said, shaking his head.

"Do you not feel the same about me?" Harry asked, "Should I not have kissed you? Sorry-"

Draco held up a hand, "Of course I feel that way," he said with a self deprecating laugh.

"But why-"

"Because I felt this way before the bond," he said.

Harry huffed, "Why is she always bloody right?"

"Who?" Draco asked, scowling in confusion.

"Hermione."

Draco rubbed his forehead, "Honestly." He blew out a breath and brushed the thought away, "Right. The point stands, we need to get you to St. Mungos-"

"I've already gone," Harry protested, "because someone kept telling me that everything I was feeling was because of the bloody, stupid bond."

Draco froze, brow furrowing in confusion, "You've already gone to St. Mungos?"

"Yes," he affirmed. "And I am fine. There is no trace of the bond anywhere-"

"It's messed with your mind-"

"Draco," he said, stepping closer and clasping his shoulders. "It's not the bond." He took a breath and let the words hang in the air. "It's me, okay? I am in love with you."

"You're not."

Harry threw his hands up in the air, "Stop it!"

"But Potter this is ridiculous."

"Don't," he said, voice low but firm. "Do not go back to calling me Potter, Draco, so help me."

The other man took a breath, then another, "Okay. We need a minute," he said. "I need a minute." He marched past Harry into the kitchen, "Tea?" he asked.

And no, Harry really didn't want any bloody tea but as he didn't seem to be any closer to getting what he did want, he sighed, "If you insist." As Draco set about making tea, pulling down Harry's favorite mug, Harry said, "Can I ask a question?"

"You have questions?" Draco asked with a dry laugh, "A moment ago, it seemed I had the monopoly on questions."

He huffed, "Why won't you believe me?"

"Because-" Draco started to snap before pausing and taking a breath, and Merlin Harry loved him even more. He carefully poured the hot water into their mugs and then he said, "because you didn't feel this way a month ago, the bond happened and planted artificial feelings, and now you have different feelings."

"Okay, first," Harry said, "The bond planted physical urges," he said. "I still hated you for at least the first two weeks, even if I wanted to touch you." He shook his head, "Not in a pervy way."

The corner of Draco's mouth twitched and something eased in Harry's chest.

"The feelings came later," he said, "After I realized how," he broke off searching for the right words, "fantastic you are. After I got to know you, I realized how many amazing things there are about you and I wanted to spend time with you. Not because holding your hand felt good but because you make me laugh, and because you're kind, and because you are so interesting," he said.

"Harry," he said softly, uncertainly.

"And I know it's scary," Harry assured him, "I'm completely terrified. But I also know that I have never felt as happy, and safe, and cared for as I have the past two weeks with you. And if you'd just give me a chance, I-"

Draco lunged across the island, grabbing Harry's lapels in his hands and crashing their mouths together.

"Mmrph," Harry managed before kissing the other man back, gentling Draco's frantic kissing until he could press love into his lips.

"You," Draco said when he pulled back, "Are the worst."

"What?" Harry asked, even though he couldn't help but laugh.

"How dare you leave me this morning telling me that you felt the same as you did at the beginning of this? How dare you not even stay for breakfast?"

"To be fair," Harry said, leaning across the island to steal another kiss, "You said you felt the same first."

"Yes well, bravery is your house's thing, not mine."

"I'll tell you I love you before I leave every day," he promised.

Draco stared at him, "Don't say things like that if you don't mean them."

He reached out and took Draco's hand in his, "I mean it." After a heart beat Harry cleared his throat, "So, since we're being honest, I have really enjoyed not sleeping alone the past month."

There was a pause as Draco's eyes searched his, "Are you asking if you can move in?" Draco asked.

He shrugged one shoulder, "If you wouldn't mind. We wouldn't have to," he bit his lip, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed, "You know, do stuff," he said, "If you don't want to. Just," he scratched his beard, "you keep the nightmares away."

Draco's lower lip protruded and his eyes looked suspiciously bright, "You can't just say things like that!" he exclaimed. "Merlin, Potter, you don't do anything by halves do you? You absolute nutter."

He came around the other side of the island and pressed a kiss to the tip of Draco's nose, "Harry," he corrected.

"Harry," Draco repeated, breathing love into the word, rubbing his nose up the side of Harry's. "Yes, of course you can stay, you sap."

Harry wrapped his fingers in the stolen hoodie and pulled Draco closer so he could kiss his petal soft lips again.

"Harry?" Draco murmured into the kiss.

"Mmm?" he asked as he trailed kisses from the corner of Draco's mouth along his jaw.

Draco tilted his head back to give him more room to maneuver, "What if I said I did want to do stuff?" he asked.

Harry pulled back and Draco whined. "Do you?" he asked.

"I'm asked you first," he replied.

He grinned, "I would be very open to stuff. If you are."

"You should probably take me to bed, then," Draco replied, pulling Harry back in to kiss him, "And get me out of this hideous, whatever-you-called-it."

Harry laughed and dragged Draco out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom, leaving their half drunk tea to grow cold.

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

True to his word, Harry stayed for breakfast the next morning and told Draco 'I love you' before leaving for the day.

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

(Part 6)

[woman-with-no-name]

Dutch van der Linde x f!reader

Title: Affection

A/N: Wrote this because I was in a weird mood. I was really inspired by this post I saw about men getting to experience non sexual intimacy for the first time. Idk how to link on mobile, sorry! English is not my native language so don't judge me too hard :) Not proof read so excuse any stupid mistakes.

Warnings: Angst. Some fluff. Not really any smut. Soft Dutch.

Story under the cut.

"How about a treat tonight?" You wait for an answer from Dutch but he seems to be deep in thought. You walk up to the cot where he has been sitting for what it seems like an eternity.

You touch his shoulder to get his attention and he raises his eyebrows at you. "I'm sorry dear, did you say something?"

"Let's go to a hotel tonight." You pat his shoulder. "With a bath in the room. What do you say?"

He gets a hold of your hand and leaves a small kiss on the tips of your fingers. Your gaze lingers on his face. The exhaustion is more than visible in eyes. "Whatever you want, my darling." But nevertheless, he smiles. Hiding the pain, as always.

You left camp at sundown. The ride to the closest hotel was short but sweet, and it was nice to be finally alone, away from prying eyes. You arrive at the small hotel and take the nicest room they had. You will be staying for only one night, so you wanted to make the best of your time together. You walk up the stairs, Dutch following closely behind you. He opens the door for you, and you both enter the neatly furnished room, with a big bed, a small dresser, a chair, and a already filled tub sitting in the middle of a fur rug. You both get a bit more comfortable, he hangs his jacket on the chair, you kick your boots off, and sit on the bed. You watch him move around the room, searching for a place to leave his hat on.

"My, my, dear, if we weren't already involved, seeing the way you look at me, I just might assume you like me." He chuckles.

You smile at his remark and stand up.

"Well, someone has to."

"Very funny, miss."

You place your hands on his chest, feeling his warmth under the silky fabric of his vest.

"Now, let's get you in the tub before the water cools off."

"Me? You won't join me?"

"I will, but later. Come on. Dutchy. Let me take care of you." You tease him, slowly unbuttoning his vest.

"I'm not the one that should be taken care of...". He flirts, and tries to get a hold of your waist. But his words pain you, you see the deeper meaning behind them. He genuinely feels like that. He's not the one that gets care, rather the one that is expected to give it, no matter what. It's what a good leader does, right?

You poke his chest with your index finger, keeping his wandering hands away from you. "Get. In."

He raises his hands in defeat. "Alright, just don't shoot me."

He starts taking by taking of his shirt and then the rest of his clothes. You smile at your small victory, and bring the chair behind the tub. You turn your back at him and search for a matchbox in your satchel. The light of day was going away quickly. A candle would be helpful. The sound of splashing water distracts you from the lit match in your fingers as you were bringing it to the wick.

"How romantic." He states with one leg already in the tub, feeling the water. He looked absolutely mesmerising. His torso toned and firm, but not too much, just the perfect amount. Strong arms at his sides. A light trail of dark hair leading all the way to...

"Oouch! Fuck!" You hiss and suck on your burned fingers as you throw the match on the floor. "Goddamnit, get in there you devil! Ugh!"

He bursts out laughing at you, the deep tone almost shaking the room.

He finally settles in the tub and you sit behind him.

"You forgot something." You rise from the chair and stand beside the tub. You hold out your hand to him. He looks at it, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Give me your hand."

He stares at you and then finally lifts his hand from the water and puts it in your, much smaller one. You hold his palm with one hand, as you start to take of his rings with your other one. You slide the lion one first and then the big D. As you take them off you realize that you never saw him like his before, without anything, even his rings, completely bare. You hold them and walk up to the dresser. You take out and open your handheld mirror, and place the rings on the base of it, just as you do with your own jewelry so you don't lose it. You go back to the chair.

"You know, I still have no idea why won't you get in here with me." He sounds slightly annoyed but masks it.

"Just, let me do this... Okay?"

You start patiently running your fingers down his hair to untangle the curled ends. Strand by strand, you seperate the raven locks. He is tense as you do this. You can't see his face but you feel the the tension in the air. His shoulders refusing to go slack against the tub.

"I'm not a child, you know." You ignore him.

"Lean a bit forward, love." He hesitates but obeys in the end. You gently cup the warm water and pour it over his head, keeping one hand on his forehead to stop any of the soapy water to get in his eyes. His hair is completely wet now, you admire the color that you didn't think could get even darker. You start to rub some more soap in your hands. He takes the hint of what's next and leans back against the tub, resting his arms on the edges of it. You start to massage his scalp, spreading the vanilla soap down the length of his hair. Your hands run down to his neck and over his broad shoulders. His grips the edges.

You begin to feel uneasy, he's being awfully quiet, and if anything, he was rearely silent, not if he felt good, not with you. You don't know if you are simply boring him or he's just unaffected by your administrations. You compose yourself and decide to continue with your plan, to make him feel your love. Even though he can't see you, you smile behind him, you stare at the back of his head, you mind wanders and deep in thought you close your eyes, and barely stop yourself from weeping out loud of how happy you are to have him by your side, how it hurts you to see him burdened, how you want him to know that you will be there, no matter what.

You rub the wetness from your eyes with the back of your hand and lift your gaze. You let out a small embarrassed gasp as you finally notice the view in the small pocket mirror you left resting on top of the dresser. His reddened eyes, and the tear stains down his cheeks. He's looking right at you.

You bring your face next to his, cupping his cheek, and hold him close. He closes his eyes, and fresh tears roll down to melt in your skin.

"It's okay, it's okay..." You whisper, and gently kiss his cheek.

"I don't deserve you."

"Yes. Yes, you do. Don't ever forget that."

...

[ladyfloriographist]

Working Girl

Pairing: (Dr.) Gregory House (M.D.) x femme!voluptuous!Reader

Warnings: kind of an alternate re-telling of that time Wilson meets House at the bar in s1, Older Man/Younger Woman, First Meetings

XXXX

House’s phone buzzed on the bartop—a reply from Wilson, which read:

‘Can’t yet. Dinner party. 30 min ok?’

House sighed and flipped the phone face-down on the polished surface. He stared into the lowball glass, eyeing the clear, amber liquid.

You spot him from across the bar, his chest deflating and shoulders slumping as he disregards the mobile. Fatigue and frustration blend his features into a scowl, his face lined with the stories, smiles and heartaches of his years. His grey hair and short stubble beckon the touch of your fingers and his eyes—good God in Heaven. His big blue eyes that he just barely flicks up away from his glass tumbler call you closer.

You sidle up next to him, and slip onto the barstool beside his.

He glances at you wearily, and you sling him a small, genial-enough smile before looking away.

“I’m waiting for a friend,” he says, dry and dismissive.

“Oh?” you turn back to him, and look him up and down. “You’re waiting for someone.”

He squints, and looks shamelessly down your face, over your lush breasts, along your arms until he stops where your fingers are interlocked on the bartop. Your half-drunk glass of white wine sits casually between your forearms.

He locks eyes with you again and says, “And I take it you think you’re that someone?”

“That part is entirely up to you.”

His brow lifts.

“I very well could be,” you murmur, sipping from your glass. Up close, in this low light, his stunningly blue eyes are dark—but they glint with a mix of humour and impatience, like he’s wondering how long he’ll tolerate this farce until he grows bored and tells you to get lost.

“I don’t much like company.”

That much is painfully obvious. “Oh,” you let your brow crease, and put on a sarcastic tone, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

He rolls his eyes.

“So I should go then?” You motion to the door with your thumb. “Probably for the best, you reckon?”

He flicks his gaze back to yours, and takes a breath about to say something, before catching his words in his throat. He glances over your form again—and you let him—before he pulls his lips between his teeth and grabs his whiskey.

You’re younger than him, that much he can tell, by fifteen or even twenty years. He’d be mad to go home with you.

He’d be mad not to.

You interpret his silence as wavering indecision—how this grizzled, chiselled old man traversed such a thin, fine line between ‘yes’ and ‘no’—and intrude on his thoughts with a brazen line. “What do you say we get out of here?”

He huffs a laugh through his nose, and absently gestures to his cane as he takes another sip of his drink. “As delightful as this is—and trust me, this’ll make a great story tomorrow—we’re not exactly working with the same equipment.”

You spin on the barstool to face him fully, and bare in his face you say, “What does that matter when I’ve got you flat on your back?” You risk a quick glance at his groin—no shame, no fear—before locking eyes again. “Still works, doesn’t he?”

He scoffs. “You’re quite forward, you young thing,” he says, stalling to recover. “What happened to buying me dinner first? Oh no, don’t tell me—is romance really dead?” He exaggerates a frown in mock despair.

You hum a laugh, charmed but otherwise unphased. “It shouldn’t be this hard for you to know if you want to fuck me or not.”

He raises his brows, mouths the word ‘wow’, and says, “I’m just saying, some flowers and a little chocolate—”

“And if it is, you probably don’t.”

He stops, and you bring your glass to your lips. You take a sip, your eyes trained on his—and he doesn’t look away. He scrutinises you, assesses you, rakes over every detail he can get. It’s not that he doesn’t want to—is it? He definitely wants to, doesn’t he?

But, can he?

The man refuses any more introspection and reverts to something else.

He purses his lips as an unkind smile threatens to break over his face. “A big girl and a cripple walk into a bar,” he says, his voice caustic and aimed to disparage the pair of you. But, when you merely tilt your head and smile, he dispenses with the idea of a cruel joke. He changes tact.

“So,” he tries again, “it’s older men, huh? Really do it for you, do they? You like the grey, like an obvious age difference?” He flicks his wrist, gesturing to his face and hair.

“Would I be sitting here trying my damnedest to chat you up if I didn’t?”

He eyes you, unconvinced that this isn’t some devious ploy. He can’t assure himself of your sincerity… yet. “I’m not warm and fuzzy.”

“Shocker,” you say, letting your arm fall to the bartop. “I’m not asking you to be.” You lean a little bit closer to him. “I’m a big girl. If your first instinct isn’t to cuddle me after,” you drop your voice to a whisper, “somehow, I know I’ll find the strength to go on.”

“Ah,” he hums, momentarily pointing a finger in your face before retracting it. “She’s a masochist, then.” Sexually and emotionally. Here it is: he’s figured you out.

“Depends on the day,” you smile, flippant. “What are we, Thursday?”

“Like a little degradation from your old man, hm? Like him a little standoffish. Old enough to be your Daddy and twice as distant, that’s your thing?” he rattles on, starting to glare and glower at you. “You like someone who’s a little mean, huh? A little,” he sighs, getting more and more irritated the more he speaks, “’rough ‘round the edges’.” He downs the rest of his whiskey. “Someone who can’t make room for you—that it?”

You act on pure instinct. You shoot your arm out and grab his wrist, holding his hand firmly to the top of the bar—startling him and shutting him up.

He starts and flinches, brought back to the here and now. He’s said too much, and too little of it had anything to do you. “That’s battery, you know,” he says, looking pointedly at your hand.

But you don’t let up—and then, like a glacier, he slowly melts into your touch.

He lifts his gaze to yours. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…” he murmurs quietly, letting himself trail off as he looks deeply into your eyes.

He doesn’t realise he’d said it out loud.

You release your hold on his wrist, slowly. “You a cop, then? Lawyer?”

He sniffs a mirthless laugh. “The sign on my door says I’m a doctor.”

You hum, and shuffle closer still. He doesn’t lean away, and his lids lower as he enjoys your plush body from a new angle.

You lean in close, and murmur into his ear, “Then, let’s run a test.” With a light, gentle touch you trail the tip of your nose down the shell of his ear, and let your breath fan over his neck as you find the sensitive spot just behind and below his earlobe. You press a soft, tender kiss to his skin, and linger there. He’s warm under your lips, and smells clinically clean, cut by old, faded cologne underneath.

Judging by that and the small sigh you hear him breathe—your guess is that he must’ve had a really long day.

After a moment, you pull back. Your voice is deeper, husky when you speak again. “What’s the diagnosis, doc?”

He clears his throat, and when he flicks his gaze back up to yours you don’t need a medical degree to see how his pupils have dilated—his eyes blowing black with desire.

“Anything?” you murmur, with a slight quirk to your brow.

A corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “Inconclusive.”

You let a small smile creep slowly across your face—and for half a moment, House could almost unleash one too.

You look to the bartender and catch their eye, holding up two fingers before pointing them down to the stained mahogany surface. “Two more, please.”

XXXX

Let me know if you're interested in more of this! I am tempted to write a second smutty part to this short little thing x