#clearly no one can afford heat anymore

[sarasa-cat]

Full of deep thoughts but shivering too much to focus on typing any of them.

[sachiko1309]

I belong to you

Summary: After Aubrey had dealt with her past and finally freed herself from her abusive father, Carlisle made sure to spoil her rotten, buying her a whole island in her name. A new beginning for the couple celebrated with inaugurating their new bed...

This is a part of a story I write on Wattpad (its also finished), as I am conviced this man needs more attention. Its called "Save Haven". Feel free to hop over, my account name is in my description. 🥰

Word count: 3457

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, dirty talk (a lot of it), rough, Dom Carlisle, sub reader, Minors DNI! this contains adult content!

He walked us through the house, but I was way to occupied with him and my feelings than to look thoroughly. There would be time a different day. When he stopped walking, he slowly set me down on the floor. I let go of him, watching his face through my tearstained lashes, a smile spreading over my lips. “Not to sound like I am not appreciating your gift, but why?” I asked, my voice still shaky from the crying. Carlisle shrugged his shoulders: “I wanted to make you happy.”

“You don’t need to throw away that much money, to make me happy.” I scolded him. “This is way too much. I cant take that gift. Its… how am I ever supposed to make it up to you?”

“Its not enough.” Carlisle held his ground. “You are here with me. Spending your time with me. You even considered giving up your mortality to stay with me. That’s more than I could have ever dreamed to have, more than I am even entitled to asked for. And still, I have it. This is nothing compared to the things you already gave me.”

“Its expensive! And I want to stay with you, because I love you, not because of your money. How are you even able to afford all of this? I mean, I know you are rich, but that’s clearly another level of rich.” I tried to argue, searching for reasons to talk some sense into him. But my statement seemed to do nothing more than make him laugh: “And I am very grateful that you choose me because of who I am and not what I am.” He said giving my forehead a kiss. “This is not expensive at all. Do you even know how rich I am? I have been working as a doctor for over 200 years. In the beginning I worked in two hospitals one dayshift one nightshift. There is a lot of money that starts to collect itself. More than I could ever spend. And after Alice joined us, trading on the stock market became another source of income. So please let me spoil you. It’s the least I can do.”

I just huffed, trying to retort something, but he just put a finger on my lips. “No arguing anymore. Remember what I told you on our first date?”

“That you are old school?” I asked, raising a brow in confusion.

“Exactly. And what did Bella suggest if the towns gossip would push you out of your work?” He kept on asking without giving me an explanation.

“To become your sugar babe? That was a joke, Carlisle. You cant just…” I was again interrupted. “I can and I will. I am going to be your very old school, very rich and good looking sugar daddy.” With that he simply pressed his lips against mine, ridding me of every chance of arguing back.

“God, how I missed doing that all day.” He mumbled into my hair and I instantly relaxed against his chest, taking in his masculine scent of books and smoke.

Carlisle immediately picked me up again and pressed me against the wall. Out of reflex, I wrapped my legs around his waist, holding onto his shoulders. He narrowed his eyes, as desire slowly pushed itself to the front. I swallowed and looked up at him, at those beautiful golden eyes that had grown dark with need. When I ran my tongue over my lips, I heard him groan. "And?" I asked, his strong reaction towards my lust making me cocky, heat pooling in my stomach. "What else did you miss?"

He dipped his head, his lips just above my collar bone. "You." He whispered. Cold breaths fanning over my skin made me close my eyes and whimper out in lust, goosebumps rising all over my skin. "I want you." He repeated, his voice a low growl against my skin.

I swallowed hard, as he pressed up against me, the feeling of his hard cock straining against his pants making my breathing go rigid. His hands let go of my waist; his lips skimming up to my ear. A sound rose from the back of my throat, something that felt like a purr. Warmth and desire washed over me again, and I grabbed onto Carlisle collar, saying: “Please, daddy.”

He pulled back, his jaw clenched, his eyes burning with passion. After the next inhale, his lips crushed onto mine. I was pulled into a darkened tunnel of desire. His kisses were deep, drugging me senseless. His tongue, all cold and icy, luscious, and sinful, licked and probed its way into the warmth of my mouth. Whimpering helplessly, I looped my arms around his neck. My body already throbbing and aching, arousal pooling between my thighs, and he had just started kissing me.

There was no need to be hurried. His mouth devoured mine, leaving me breathless, and him oblivious to me working frantically on his clothes. “Slowly, little girl.” He groaned when he felt his vest coming undone. “Slowly.”

Carlisle grabbed my wrists to stop me. “Slowly.” He pulled away just enough, his mouth barely hovering over my lips. “Let’s make tonight count, hmmm?” His eyes had grown dark and dangerous. “How…” I started, but his cold breath fanning over my skin made reel up in need. He was able to make me go weak in the knees just by the way he touched me, and he knew it. “How slow are we talking about?” I was finally able to press out.

“Very slow.” He whispered before dragging my face in for a kiss. “So slow…” He savored the lusciousness of his words. “…that by the time I’m done with you, you won't have an ounce of strength left in that beautiful body of yours.” He wore a wicked grin on his face, walking us over to the sofa in front of the fireplace that was set on the light stone wall across the bed. He gently laid me down, hovering over me before pressing a searing kiss to my cheek, just as gentle as when he laid me down.

“I’m gonna eat your pretty little pussy, kitty.” He gingerly kissed me, fiddling with the strings of my dress. I was stunned at his sudden change in demeanor. Normally he was very careful of the others hearing our interactions. But it seemed the more time we spent together, the bolder he got. Finally, able to loosen my dress enough, he shuffled it up my body, pulling it over my head.

“Fuck.” he breathed. “Feels like you’re trying to kill me already, love.” Keeping his place between my legs, his arms trailed up my chest, playing with my tits. “So fucking gorgeous…” Placing my hands on his wrists, encouraging him to continue, I sighed “Daddy…” Head thrown back. I could swear his eyes darkened by four shades, swallowing his pretty golden hues into the abyss of his lust.

Moving from his place between my legs to help me remove my underwear in one swift motion, quickly getting right back to business as soon as he was able to. Once he was settled back between my thighs again, I could feel his hands gripping them tightly. “Such a pretty pussy you’ve got here, little one.” His face was so close to my center, his breath fanned against my skin with every word he said. “Can’t believe you’ve kept it from me for so long.” Littering my thighs with kiss after kiss, each time getting closer to my core.

“I haven’t.” I breathed out, my voice audibly shaking at his actions. He just tutted at my words. “I had to wait nearly 400 years for you to step into my life. Only to then see you being abused by another man. Forcing me to sneak around everyone’s back, only to be with you.”

My hands made their way to his hair, gently grasping his hair and tugging to emphasize my need for him. “Please, Carlisle…”

“Please what, little kitty?” He mocked coyly.

“You know what.” My hips began to rise from the sofa, searching for some relief.

“Uh uh.” He moved his head further from where I wanted it the most. “I wanna hear you say it for me.”

“I… can you… I want you to eat me out, please?” Squeezing my eyes shut, not being able to look at him, as he finally connected his lips with my center. “Oh my GOD!” His tongue traced my clit lightly, barely giving much stimulation, but even that was enough to make my legs starting to quiver.

While his tongue tracing my clit felt absolutely amazing, nothing prepared me for feeling his tongue tracing along my soaked slit, before delicately prodding inside of me. “Fuck!” I shrieked out, his tongue trailing back to my clit before I felt his finger slowly enter my pussy. He raised his mouth from my center, looking me straight into my eyes. “For Gods sake, how I love this.” His voice was nearly a growl. “That sweet pussy of yours hooked me the moment I had my first taste. And by all what is mighty, I will never stop worshipping it.” I couldn’t help myself but mewl at his words. The way he praised me in his old-fashioned way of speaking turning my bones to water.

He was passionate about pleasing me, humming at my skin. Making sure to wait for me to relax, welcoming the pleasure rather than being surprised by it, before he slowly started to thrust the single digit in and out of my core. I tossed my head back against the pillows at the feeling of his long fingers reaching parts of me that I could never reach myself.

“Fuck!” His finger found the perfect spot inside of me, curling to massage it gently and bringing me closer to the edge. My pussy pulsating in rhythm with his thrusts, the wet and messy sounds of my pleasure filling the room. I felt him moan, even more as he brought his free hand up my chest, pinching and pulling my nipple before switching to the neglected breast, simultaneously adding a second finger. 

I cried out for him. “I’m so close, please don’t stop! Please don’t stop!” My back began to arch off the sofa, as his ministrations went on, his fingers pounding into my pussy as his lips continued to suck eagerly at my clit. “Oh my…” I rasped, my voice hoarse and thin. “Daddy!” I yelled, as my orgasm washed over me all the sudden. Riding it out, as he refused to cease his actions on my body until I couldn’t take any more and ha to pull him away.

“I need you.” I said timidly, my gaze on the floor. “I need you inside of me.” But the way he looked at me with those dark eyes and predatory look, made me feel brave and…sexy. Carlisle let out a shaky breath, his hands gripping my hips tightly. I slipped my hand underneath his clothes, gently shoving the fabric down his shoulders. He got the hint, getting up from his knees and undressing himself, making a show for me to watch. His fair skin, scattered with scars from the many fights he had been in, giving his soft appearance a slight hint of roughness, that had me reeling in desire.

"You sound so needy.” He growled, watching me intently as I laid there, spreading my legs for him. "I love it when you are all desperate and riled up for me." He shook his head, a cocky grin appearing on his lips. And I whined at his words. "You are such a slut." He grinned, grabbing me by my neck and pulling me across the sofa to have more space to settle between my legs. But he didn’t. Standing next to me, he looked down with a smirk.

"Do you know what that dress did to me all day?" He asked, his voice a tad gentler. "I should have fucked you when you came down the stairs." A hot shiver ran down my spine and fluttered inside my core. "I would have fucked my cum so deep inside you, until you are a crying mess for everyone to hear. And then I would have had you walk back down. Nothing more than a ripped dress covering you, barely doing anything to keep your modesty, all while my cum runs down your thigh."

I winced at his word, closing my legs in embarrassment. Did he really mean that? "Carlisle…" I started, "…that’s…" I was cut off with a loud moan pushing through my lips as he inserted two fingers. His fingers curled once more, and with it, my toes. "This pussy belongs to me." He pumped his fingers inside of me, slowly crawling on top of me. "Your pussy belongs to me. And I will have it whenever I want it."

Without a warning, his fingers abandoned my needy core, his cock taking their place. The thickness stretching me out, as the head of his penis pressed against my puffy walls. He pulled out quickly, then bottomed out once more. His hands gripped my hips in a bruising hold, his thrusts just as rough. I cried out each time he filled me up. It was too much, but not enough at the same time. He had never fucked me like this before, without preparing me with his fingers thoroughly, but I relished in it. Relished in the way his balls slapped against me with a wet snap. Relished in the way he made a mess of me; my wetness being smeared around between us.

"I belong to you." I whimpered, back arching and hands gripping his biceps, as my nails failed to dig into his skin. Carlisles thrusts faltered and he finally looked at me. He pulled me flush to his chest, my bare breasts against him. Gripping my chin and looking deep into my eyes. "Say it again."

"I'm yours, Daddy. Forever." I repeated, my voice slightly muffled by his fingers gripping my chin hard. Picking up his pace again, he let go of my face, grabbing both of my hands and burying them beneath his fingers.

Like a ravenous predator, his eyes meet mine. A pleasure visible inside of them, that was beyond my wildest dreams, the high I so desperately yearned for just a tad too far to reach. “Please.” I whimpered, finally completely pushed over the edge and into submission. His previously slow pace got replaced by a more moderate one that had me gasping for air. The searing heat returning, yet this time it was more than welcomed, much like his cock, leaving not a spot untouched in its way.

“Daddy…” I whispered, not able to do much more than moan or plead his name. My head hung back, lips parted and back arching as I gave myself into his hands. Soon my moans were accompanied by his groans, showing how much this affected him as well. It was the sound of his voice, growling my name followed by a string of curses, that dragged me towards my release in fast steps.

“Carlisle, please…” I breathed out, loud enough to catch his attention. “More…” Arching my back, to press myself against his chest, unable to fight his strong hold that held me in place as he pounded into me mercilessly.  “M-More, please” I rasped.

His response was letting go of one hand and grabbing ahold of my hips, as he kept on driving himself in as deep as possible, knocking the air straight out of my lungs, leaving me clutching onto his shoulder and hand. “It’s as if you are trying to send me over the edge just by looking at me.” His voice was low, unsteady. A mere shadow of its usual self. “My pretty little girl, so eager to be ruined.” I was unable to even process his words. All I could sense was him, so I shrieked, when he let go of me and roughly manhandled my legs upwards.

With knees now brought to my chest, I could do nothing but claw at the pillows, as his strong hold kept me in place. The feeling of his cock more prominent than ever, as blind spots were slowly taking over my vision.

“Carlisle!” I yelped, but my train of thought got interrupted by another thrust.

“This is what you requested, is it not?” He growled. A mewl ripped from my throat, a series of pants and gasps filling the room before my jaw was in his grasp once more; forcing my gaze upon him. “It is what you begged me for. To give you more, is it not?” He repeated.

Not being able to do much more than gape, I parted my lips, staring into golden hues now wild and firm, boring into my soul. Even though I stared at him, I could not focus on anything, all my attention on the snapping of his hips, the feeling of his tip touching that one bundle of nerves that made me cry out in desperation. “Th-There - There!”

My words were jumbled and slurred; my brain drunk from the bliss overtaking my body one tidal wave after another. I bucked my hips, frantic for that sensation to grow stronger. “Here?’’ He drove into my core again, prompting my eyes to fall back into my head. The only word I was able to say being his name and hushed pleads, interrupted by countless gasps, and mewls.

A familiar feeling started to rise within the pit of my stomach, sending all my senses into overload. It was blistering, devastating, and I was unsure how much longer I could hold on. With Carlisles fingers now capturing my clit between his thumb and forefinger, combined with the icy heat of his kisses on my neck and shoulder, it was beyond what I could have ever asked for.

Searing, hot, like a rapid, undying fire my body started burning. With eyes barely opening I tried to warn him, yet my core did it for me. Walls clamping down, earning a curse from him, as fresh marks now stained the skin of my hips.

“C-Can’t - I can’t.” I cried out, but he cut me off with his lips, dragging me into a kiss full of passion. Hunger, vigor, intense and demanding, that’s what crossed my mind as he kissed me. “Come, my love.” His voice almost drowning in the hurdled cry that left my mouth after he parted from the kiss. “Come for me.”

It was all I needed to hear, to finally shatter around him. My vision turning blurry, as a violent jerk overtook my body, all the nerves tensed and contracted in pure bliss. It was blinding and fierce, and in a fervid moment, I arched my back, finally releasing the blistering heat inside of my body with a cry of his name. Surely heard by everyone in this house.

Trembling, that was all I could do. My frame hit the sheets, head spinning, as I was gasping for air. And I barely even noticed Carlisle being brought to his own release a shuddering growl of my name falling from his lips. The once fervent snaps melting into nothing but a few bucks until he steadily came to a stop.

Once more, my swollen lips were captured by his own, slower, gentler this time, but still as passionate as ever. Unable to come up with much resistance, I merely hummed and leaned into him; sighing as his length retreated from my core, leaving behind an empty feeling.

It took a moment for him to gather his composure, but soon he got up, he was making a run for the bathroom to get a towel to clean me up. At least that’s what I assumed; my head still too fogged up to really comprehend anything beyond the tingly feeling inside my body. Within seconds, he was back, kissing every part of my body he could reach while cleaning me up. “Rest.” It was a quiet whisper. “You did so well, little one.” He sighed, pressing a peck to my mouth. “But for now, rest.”

I could feel him picking me up and carrying me through the room. The next thing I noticed was being sat down on a soft surface. But when he let go of me, I cried out for him. Immediately his cold hands were back on my body. “Shh, my love. Its alright. Sleep now. I am here.” Closing my eyes, I registered him climbing into the bed as well. Cuddling into his side, I fell asleep, his arms holding me securely in a cold embrace.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi! I love your work! do you think you could do one where the shy hero needs a place to stay and finds themselves asking the villain if they can stay at his place?

They used to be friends. The hero wouldn't have considered it if they didn't use to be friends.

It still felt like an exceptionally dumb thing to consider.

They were not friends anymore.

"You're staring," the villain said.

The hero immediately dropped their gaze, and wished they had their mask to cover the rush of heat flooding their face. A minute or so later, their attention had fixed on the villain again - sitting opposite them in the train carriage, because fate hated them both.

(And because the train home was a tiny little local thing that had yet to catch up fully with the modern age.)

The villain watched the scenery blurring in the train window; trees to replace the concrete forests of the capital, scrubby grass. Soon, soon, they would turn a corner and there would be sea.

The hero caught the villain studying them in the reflection of the glass, clearly having noted they were being observed again. The villain raised a brow but didn't bother to turn their head.

The hero swallowed.

It wasn't safe, or it didn't feel safe, to watch the villain even through the distance of a reflection. The villain was not Medusa. Their threat did not diminish simply because it wasn't tackled head-on.

"So you're staying at your family house?" the hero asked.

"As I've done every year since we've known each other." The villain's voice was as dry as cracking skin, and the hero winced.

They fidgeted on their chair. They toyed with the zip on their rucksack. Obviously, obviously, the villain was staying at their home.

The villain's eyes narrowed. They turned their head to examine the hero more closely, and the hero once again hurled their attention elsewhere. It hit the train window like a tragedy of a bird, with one big impact, before it dropped.

"What is it."

The hero bit their lip. "Can I stay with you?"

"Excuse me?" The dryness vanished.

"Your place is huge! I won't be any trouble. I'll like, hide in the loft or something. You won't even see me. I know you probably have guests or-"

"Why aren't you going home?"

"Is that a no?"

"It's a question. I suggest you answer it."

There - the corner, and the sea. It stretched endless, wine-dark in the fading light. The hero set their rucksack on their lap again, squeezing it against their chest.

"[Hero]." The villain's voice softened, just a fraction. "You can stay if you tell me."

Maybe they could find a hotel. There was no way they were finding a hotel room so close to the festival. If they could find and afford a hotel...

"I can't go home."

"Yes, I gathered that by the fact that you're asking me for a favour."

The hero grimaced, shoulders tensing. Their arms tightened around their bag. They jolted when the villain's hand landed, gently, on their knee. Just one light touch.

Their eyes met.

The villain's eyes were not warm, but they weren't hostile either. There was no unkindness. It was a careful neutrality, as much of a shield as the hero's bag, but..

"Theyfoundoutmyjobanddon'twantmetocomehome."

The villain blinked. It took them a second to translate, to replay the words back slowly for themselves, before they went rigid.

"Your job? You mean -" The villain gestured at the hero's face, where the mask would normally sit.

"That thing. Yeah."

"And they don't want you to come home? They...they do realise you're not me, right?"

The hero laughed, catching themselves by surprise as much as the villain. They shook their head. "They actually agree more with you, you'll be delighted to know. Obviously, I haven't told them it's you, but..." They were getting off track. "So I can stay with you?"

The villain stared.

The hero's stomach twisted. Maybe - they didn't want to believe it, but maybe, the deal had just been a ploy for information. They should have lied. They should have come up with some other reason they couldn't go home. Anything but the truth.

"Please," the hero forced out, barely above a rasp. Embarrassment flared up their face again, like an outbreak, or a plague symptom.

The villain seemed to snap back to themselves. They nodded, before they spoke, gaze returning to the window. They continued to sit in that rigid way, expression utterly fixed and....

Angry. They were angry.

"Sorry," the hero said. "I know it's-"

"-You have absolutely nothing to apologise for."

"Oh, yeah. You love my path in life." It blurted out, as dry as the villain's voice had been.

It was the villain's turn to laugh. They shook their head, studying the hero through the train window again.

"I wouldn't kick you out of my house for that. Just kill you. Far more reasonable."

That time, as absurd as it was, they laughed together. And it felt...not like old times, but something new. Something other than heroes and villains and an endless fight.

The train pulled up at the station as the last of the sun sunk beneath the waves. The evening air was crisp, and smelled like salt and home.

The hero's chest ached.

That night, the villain gave them the best guest room in the house.

[thepinklink]

@selkies-song I wrote this for you when you weren’t feeling well, and I intended it to be longer but ran into some troubles. Regardless I hope it brightens your day 🩷

"Legend, can you get the pitchfork?"

It's a simple ask, but his headache filters it through layers of honey, so that by the time he registers what's been asked of him, Malon is watching him with concern.

"Is everything alright, Veteran?"

Legend swallows, words caught in a dry, gummy throat.

“Yeah.” He rasps. “I’m fine.”

He turns to walk back to the barn, but a dizzy spell freezes him in his tracks, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

Goddesses, was it always this hot out? Where was the cloud cover? Hadn’t it been overcast this morning? The light is making his head hurt even worse.

“Veteran. You’re ill.”

It’s not a question.

“What? No, I said I’m fine.” He scowls at the ground. Farore, it’s hot.

“You’re clearly not, dear. You’ve been sluggish and silent all morning. Look at you, the only thing keeping you on your feet is the Hero’s Spirit.”

“I’m fine. Just tired, nothing I haven’t handled before.” He is tired. He’s also in pain, but Malon doesn’t have to know that, and besides. He’s always in pain, the result of years of adventuring without always being able to take the time to care for himself or heal properly.

“I’m fine.” He repeats again, and with a little more firmness.

Malon reaches out and grabs his wrist before he can. His skin is freezing.

“You’re cold.”

He frowns at her. “What? No, I’m—it’s blazing out here.”

She frowns back. “You don’t feel cold?”

“No!”

Malon places her hand against his forehead.

“Well no wonder, you’ve got a fever. And look at you, all glassy-eyed and pale.”

Legend pulls away, scowl returning, wrought with anger at being cornered.

“I’m fine.” He hisses, insistent.

“You’re sick,” Malon replies, equally unyielding. They stand for a few minutes, glaring each other down, before Malon’s gaze is drawn over Legend’s shoulder. Legend follows it, and winces as he sees Time approaching. Time will side with Malon, he has no doubt.

“…I came to inquire about dinner on the Champion’s behalf, but I see I have stumbled into an argument.”

“Of a sort,” Malon tells him tensly.

“That does not inspire much confidence.” Time takes his place beside his wife. “It’s not too heated, is it?”

“Quite, actually, it’s got a fever.” Malon looks up forlornly at her husband, and then back at Legend again. “Our Veteran is sick.”

“Oh?” Time raises an eyebrow, eye now trained on Legend, who does not meet them. Time doesn’t say anything, but somehow he pulls all the information out of Legend faster than Malon did, and with less effort.

“I’m fine,” Legend snaps defensively, feeling raw under Time’s one-eyed gaze. He’s getting sick of the phrase. “I swear, I’m just a little tired. It rained yesterday, made my joints hurt and stuff, I’m just feeling the aftereffects right now. It’s fine.”

“Legend.”

It’s just his name. Not even his name, his nickname. And yet, the way Time says it, Legend knows immediately that he’s lost the battle.

“You have put up an excellent fight up to this point, however, it is truly bordering on pathetic.”

It hurts. Probably because it’s true. It gets worse when Time steps up next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and lowering his voice.

“I know it is not easy to remember when you’re safe. To stop pushing yourself out of habit, out of that underlying pressure to keep going because that is what you have learned. To keep going, because the fate of Hyrule is in your hands, and you cannot afford to waste so much as a second. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you had to learn that, and I’m sorry that because of it, you don’t know how to recognize and take advantage of situations like this. Situations where such pressure does harm, not good. You’re in a safe place, Link. Hyrule’s fate is not is your hands, not in a way that pushing yourself will help. You are not alone anymore. There are people who will pick up the slack while you recover. There is time to heal, so take it. There is strength in recognizing when you are weak, and stepping back to change it.”

Legend desperately wishes Time were not so wise. Suddenly, his fighting against Malon feels silly and rude. He doesn’t even really know why he was arguing with her, what it would have accomplished. He nods numbly. It was hot a second ago, but the clouds have returned and in their shade, he’s cold.

“M’sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t be. It’s a hard lesson, one we heroes are terribly unprepared to learn.” Time squeezes his shoulder gently before releasing him. “Now, go ahead and let Malon walk you to the house. And I say that because if you don’t walk, she will carry you. I had to learn that the hard way.”

Time chuckles and Malon huffs.

“You heroes and your selfless tendencies.” She turns to Legend, expression softening. “Come on, dear. You’ll feel better with a hot cup of tea in hand.”

[saywhatjessie]

you should take your sweater off first, pal

Day six of the Advent calendar! Using this list. Day 6: Sweater Weather. Fandom: Ted Lasso - Pairing: RoyJamie 1.1k[Ao3]

“What is the fucking point of all the ugly clothes you buy if you’re just going to steal mine?”

“I refuse to be lectured on fashion from someone who only wears things that are black and black adjacent.”

“This isn’t a lecture – that was clearly an irritated aside on a different complaint. The complaint being you are wearing my fucking sweater.”

“Well it’s cozy, innit! Ain’t my fault you only have clothes from fifty years ago and they don’t make things like they used to.”

Roy grunted. He wanted to argue that the state of fast fashion was not his fault and he should not be punished but, if he were being honest with himself – and he tried to do that more these days – seeing Jamie in his clothes wasn’t exactly a punishment.

“Well what are we going to do when your stupid shoulders stretch it out?”

“I assume you’ll thank whichever god you want for giving you a boyfriend with such massive and sexy shoulders.”

Roy growled. Jamie stuck his tongue out.

“Well seeing as the damage is already done, you can keep wearing that one.” Jamie preened. “But no more. I only have so many sweaters from 50 years ago, I’d like you not to disfigure the others.”

Jamie pouted. “Well what happens when this one don’t smell like your old man stink anymore? I mean there are worse fates for a jumper than to smell like Jamie Tartt, but it shouldn’t forget where it comes from.”

“It can’t remember anything, it’s a fucking sweater,” Roy said, rolling his eyes. “You can just say you like that it smells like me.”

Jamie shook his head. “Can’t say that. You’ll get a big head.”

“We have fucked in my trophy room, I already know you’re obsessed with me.”

“Says the man who wanked to a youtube compilation of Jamie Tartt’s best goals!”

“You were there too! You fucking helped!”

“Well I know I’m fit, why wouldn’t I get off to me?”

Roy pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re getting sidetracked.”

Jamie retreated further into the sweater, pouting at Roy with his chin tucked in the collar and the sleeves over his hands.

Roy sighed. “I will wear the sweater when it loses my smell so it smells like me again. Happy?”

It’s all fine until Roy is called into an emergency meeting with the fucking Diamond Dogs.

Jamie grinned. “I’ll be happier if you give us a cuddle. I’m still freezin’. Honestly, grandad, you’re stinking rich. You can afford to properly heat your house.”

“I’m filing a complaint with HR,” Roy said as soon as the Facetime call connected. “I shouldn’t be called into these after working hours.”

Ted made a ‘pshh’ sound. “Diamond Dogs ain’t work, Roy! I’d say we’re more pleasure than business.”

“Well that’s definitely a call to HR,” Trent said, smirking.

“Higgins might be asleep already,” Nate noted, rubbing his eyes. “Ted, did you forget the time difference?”

“Little bit, yeah” Ted winced. “I never did get the hang of doing it the other way. So used to thinking backwards than forwards.”

“It’s not that late,” Roy grunted. “Higgins just might be asleep because he’s got so many fucking kids. Not sure what Nate’s excuse is.”

“Fell asleep on the couch watching a film.” Nate explained, shrugging. “Didn't mean to. This call waking me up actually probably saved my back.”

“Well good!” Ted beamed. “And what a treat it is to see you all in your comfy clothes, too. Trent is that a blanket hoodie?”

Trent hummed. “Softest and warmest thing I’ve ever owned.”

“I’m more surprised by Roy,” Beard said, totally deadpan. “I’ve never seen you anything so ill fitting.”

Roy looked down to see he was wearing The Jamie Sweater.

He grunted. “Used to fit until Jamie stole it. fucking muppet stretched it all out.”

“He’s like a labrador that still thinks he’s a lap dog even after he gets big,” Ted mused, fondly. Roy snorted in agreement.

“Why not just give it to him if it doesn’t fit you anymore?” Nate asked.

“I did.”

Beard raised an eyebrow. “But you’re wearing it.”

Roy growled, crossing his arms.

“Well,” Trent said, appearing very much like the smug reporter he used to be. "Knowing what I do about borrowing boyfriend’s sweaters – both being a boyfriend whose sweater was borrowed and having borrowed sweaters from boyfriends – I’d say Roy is performing the standard smell return.”

Beard grinned, crossing his arms too. “You’re making the sweater smell like you again for your boyfriend.”

“Shut it,” Roy growled.

“Aw, now Roy, that’s sweeter than an immediate hotel room full of chocolate bars.”

Nate nodded. “Suite full of sweets toot sweet.”

Ted and Beard pointed at him.

“I’m hanging up,” Roy said.

“I’m here!” Higgins said, call connecting as he wheezed through some requisite howls. “What have I missed?”

“Mostly Roy and Jamie being shockingly wholesome as a couple,” Beard answered.

“Aw!” Higgins smiled.

When they finished their meeting, it was half ten, and Jamie was already in bed. They didn’t do 4am training anymore since Roy was manager, but Jamie did get up and train on his own most mornings before they headed into Nelson Road. Gave Roy more time for all the shitty boring manager paperowk he had to do now but it did mean more early nights.

“No,” Roy said “Fuck off enough about me." He let out a massive bark. “Ted, what the fuck is your problem?”

Early nights they spent together because they were surprisingly wholesome. Fuck Roy’s life.

Roy removed his trousers and crawled in next to him, Jamie immediately turning to nuzzle into his chest.

“Fucking Diamond Dogs saw what you did to my sweater and think we’re sweet now.”

Jamie snorted. “No amount of clothes sharing could make you sweet. You’re Roy fucking Kent. You’re a bitter old cunt and that’s why we love you.”

Roy hummed. “Bitter like unsweetened dark chocolate.”

“Bitter like stale coffee you keep in the back of the cabinet for the weirdos who don’t drink tea.”

Roy smiled, a small thing that he was sure Jamie could still see even with his eyes closed. “Thanks, babe.”

Jamie hummed, his hand running over Roy’s chest. “You know it’s about the same level of furriness with and without the sweater,” Jamie noted.

Roy rolled his eyes. “I hate you,” he said, kissing the top of Jamie’s head.

“I know,” Jamie answered on a happy sigh. “But you’re really bad at it.”.

[ziminy]

Nightshift pt. 1

Having them as roommates was a problem

Tags: mdni, college au, f!reader , explicit language, inexperienced reader, size difference, Gojo being the rich fuck that he is, they toy with you the way they want, evil Geto, fingering, thigh fucking, both Geto and Gojo are playboys (cuz I want so) , idk I'll add it later if I missed something

Author's note: bro, I started writing this thinking it would be a small ff. I was giggling and kicking my feet and then I woke up 10k words in and I was like, nahh, gotta make this into a series. So enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it😘

6120 words(I thought there were more)

Masterlist part 2

Gojo Satoru had all kind of connections. He basically knew everyone in the campus at this point, the campus you shared and many others. And who could blame him? People liked him. It wouldn't be surprising if someone goes at him for anything. That's how he wakes up in someone else business most of the time, it all starts with a small favor, and then he finds out its not that small as he thought it would be. And yet he still does it again and again. He's an idiot, isn't he?

Who could blame him. No one was in their right minds anymore these days. But an idiot will always remain an idiot. And so, he woke up helping someone again. A friend you happen to have in common came to him, asking if he knows any place available to stay at. And the idiot went around asking about it, only to find up things about you. Like what kind of person you are, how people viewed you, how you got in the situation of moving out. You were a quiet person, or that's what some people said. Other said how it was so fun to have you around. You were non problematic, or hat's how he liked to see it. You were a peaceful person who just happened to be in an unfortunate situation.

He would usually say no, but he met you in person. You looked tired, and small compared to him, you looked like you bearly got any sleep these days. He lives in a big house, doesn't he? It's not like he needs new people in there, the quietness was enough for him. He also clearly don't need any money from you especially. If you can't afford sleep, would you be able to afford a place to stay in?

And somehow you woke up moving into his house. After a lot of talking about it with him, just making sure you heard what you heard right you finally made a decision. Sure, he doesn't seems bad, so why not accepting.

Everything was so peaceful at first. He said he won't be there most of the times. Him and the unexpected housemate you found there were out almost all day. And when they were back everyone seems to be so careful around each other. No one makes fast moves and it seems that you adapted to that life there rather quick. Everything was like a dream, or that what it seemed like. Until you heard a rather nasty rumor about your so called housemates. Animals in heat, that's how you can call them without saying a bad word.

You can't see it. You just can't see it. Your roommates were two regular guys. Sure, one was ridiculously rich, but he was fine. Maybe a little childish. And the other guy was just so down on earth. That guy was softer than your damn pillow. The way he talks was definitely telling you that the rumors are fake. Defamation. This got to be defamation. I mean, no matter how much you think about it you can't see these guys as some fuckers who are.. Well.. Doing what the name says. Fucks.

But you couldn't help but listen to those false allegations. The nights they weren't home they were supposed to be partying somewhere until they leave with a girl. You never saw anyone bringing anything home. So where were they? Do they like spending times in hotels instead of their own house? And that's when you find out they almost never brings girls home because they go to ladies houses.

Everything you heard was true. It's an unwritten rule that they don't like to see strangers on their beds. So that means they spend the night there? No, they always come back no matter what. Fooling in someone else bed was alright, but staying the night was a no no. All those rumors made you think. What was so special about them? And so, you started to observe them whenever you could. It was like an small experiment in your head, it meant literally nothing more. It made you think about the situation. Were they really not as you see it?

Without even realizing you got out the room at the same time they were at home. When they were in the kitchen, you happen to be there, nothing happened that just a few words exchanged , small talk. However, it was bothering them.

They really don't understand why you're looking like that at them. No, they're actually full aware of the look in your eyes. It's was something they saw so many times, yet it was more. It wasn't just horniness, it wasn't that lust they're so familiar with. It was curiosity. You don't even have to say a word because it was clearly written on your face. Yet they don't want to admit that it was just something innocent. Both of them agreed mentally that you want them. It wasn't sure which one but it was clearly you wanted something from one of them. They were the horny ones. Your eyes studying them so openly, no thoughts behind it, no shame. They were indeed animals in heat, because they just couldn't keep it to themselves. And just like always, they were willing to give you whatever you want. That if you finally say something, do a move yourself. Not just looking and that's it.

"Y/N." you moved your eyes on who ever was calling your name, none other than your landlord. "Did something happened?" to him it seemed like you had something to say but you were to shy to say it. He was more than happy to give you a little push, help you to finally say something.

"Mno..?" he gulped, you looked right into his eyes. The looks you kept giving earlier wasn't helping either. He only heard stuff about how you were shy and you didn't go much out. Your friends don't even remember the last time you went on a date, that if you ever went on a date. "Ohh." you're reaction made both of them move their eyes straight on you. You finally was going to say it? "I apologize." you laughed. "I heard something and I wanted to see it myself." you had a sweet smile on you face, it really didn't look like you were undressing them in your mind. You were curious. And if you have the answers right in front of you, wouldn't you want to know what is actually happening?

"Rumors?" the dark haired guy sat down at the table you were sitting with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Mhhmm." you nodded.

"Are you that interested in what other people say?" you shook your head.

"Not at all." you got up from your chair. "Sorry for making you concerned." and so, you went to your room. You can't figure out what's in their head, and they can't figure what's in yours. There were a lot of rumors about them, most of them being true, but you could never know. You haven't heard anything about your name yet, so maybe people don't even know you live there to begin with. Which is good. The last thing you want is someone disturbing your peace.

What you should have put in calculation was the two demons outside your door. Gojo only let you stay because he was interested in you, the other guy just started to feel a little curious. When they tried to show that they know you're watching, you did nothing more than continue to watch them further. You would look them right in the eyes like you did nothing shameless. And the answer you gave them was so vague that they're now asking for more. It's not like they disliked you there next to them, just looking at them and doing nothing more. It's that it made their imagination go wild.

You bearly went out if it wasn't for school. And up until not so long ago you wouldn't even get out the room when they were home. It was so quiet in there that they forgot about you. That until you got in that kitchen, you're steps were so carefully placed on the floor, the way you would walk around the table and sit at a spot they would have never guessed it was yours in the first place. It became like a routine to see you there in the morning, since that was the time of the day where they would be at home. Oh, but now you stopped. When they're awake you're sleeping safe and sound. Maybe they should have let you do your thing. Of course they would have answered whatever question you might had, but what they don't know is the thoughts you were thinking of. The way you would just smile like you didn't thought about what the hell they were doing when they were out.

You were just curious. And you're happy they finally said something, so that way you could stop looking for whatever you were looking. They're not happy tho. It's been a week since they didn't seen you even breathing around them. Everyone was tired. That's why they started coming home earlier. Which turned into an unfortunate event.

Stressed, everyone was stressed. And you became even stressed when you woke up in the middle of the night hearing noises. Was someone in pain? Did someone needed help? Then you woke up and realizing what is actually happening. The sounds you heard weren't from pain, they were moans, and bed moving. They weren't your moans, they didn't sounded like male moans. It was definitely a woman. You sighed as you went back to sleep, ready to complain about it tomorrow to your housemates.

You were so eager to complain about what happened. The moment you got in the kitchen you sat down next to the dark haired guy. "Suguru, have you heard that last night?" you sighed, yet you were thrilled to continue complaining. "Honestly, can't the neighbors chill?" you wanted to hear him agreeing with you, yet he didn't.

"It wasn't the neighbors." huh? Now you were confused.

"What do you mean?" you both looked at the person who just entered the kitchen. You looked at the guy next to you with big eyes when you realized what actually happened, you stood there bamboozled. He only nodded, like he could read you mind. He knew exactly what you were thinking of. "No way.." a hand was placed over your mouth to show how shocked you were. "I'm sorry! I didn't know!" you exclaimed as you ran from there to your room. So those rumors were true? But you could have never guessed. I mean, weren't they in some kind of mafia or something? Why else would they be out all the times if they weren't working? But didn't people said they don't get girls home? Then was that his girlfriend? What about all those shameful things you thought of? You have to apologize to his girl.

The next morning you got out your room and shyly went into the kitchen. Moving carefully and biting your lower lip, you sat down next to your landlord at the big table that was placed in the kitchen. You looked at him, then at your hands while you kept playing with your fingers. The other guy looked amused. He could only guess why you're acting like that, but he probably knows exactly what you wanted to say. The white haired guy keep moving his eyes from his phone to you. Was this a deja vu? Or perhaps not. This feels like it happened before yet so different at the same time. You looked only at him, you sat next to him, and the other guy seems to find it funny. Clearly, something happened that he's not aware of. He's a little angry now. How can he be left out? Especially when you don't even do much besides coming into the kitchen for a few minutes then run away from there. "Something happened?" this was definitely a deja vu. The same thing, same words, yet it felt so different.

"I'm sorry.." so something did happened? What could be so bad that you got to act like this? You weren't in this situation when you got caught for staring at them shamefully.

"Huh?"

"I know it wasn't my business.. I should have probably shut up.. But please listen to me first." the guy that was sitting not so far from you was laughing his ass off. This was pure gold, comedy in its purest form. He couldn't stop you even if he wanted to. After all, you had to find things out yourself, and he didn't plan to give you any information. "I really didn't know. I wouldn't had said anything if I knew she was your girlfriend." now that was a twist that made even the hyena stop laughing. Now everyone was interested in what happened.

"What do you mean by my girlfriend?" your landlord was mad that someone is out there pretending to be his girlfriend. He might change girlfriends frequently, but at the moment he was single. So who would dare to present themselves as his girl?

"I heard that you don't get girls home unless it's someone important." never in their life have they bought someone home since you moved in there.

"I didn't bring anyone in here?" everyone was confused. No one didn't know what to say.

"The other day you came back with someone, right? I just wanted to apologize because I didn't know it was you. I thought it was the neighbors." the dark haired guy started to laugh again, this time not even trying to hide it. You got up from you seat and went to the door as fast as you could. "Anyway, I'm sorry. I just want it to say it in case of anything." and so, you disappeared from their eyes once again. Whatever you heard about them it was clearly bullshit in their eyes. You need to stop listening to whatever people had to say, they could answer to whatever question you had. Yet you never ask for anything.

A game of cats and mouse started. It was clearly who were the evil minds that came with the plan and who was the clueless victim. One day when you were at school, they happen to be there to switch everything in the house. Whatever you thought you knew was, now was in a complete another place. It was pitiful to watch them work so eagerly on this. It was hard to watch them being idiots, yet not even a second they stopped to think about it. All they had to do now was for you to come back.

It took you two days to finally see that something is wrong. In these two days they almost died of impatience because of how slow you were. Yet look at you, refusing to give up. You searched everywhere in the kitchen cabinets for whatever you were looking, only to see with the corner of your eye that it was placed somewhere were you clearly couldn't reach at. You took a chair and tried to get it yourself. You don't need help from those fuckers after all. Why would you need it when they made your life so complicated.

"Need help?" the knight in shining armor was too late unfortunately, yet that didn't stopped Gojo from being a fucker.

"Not at all." he came next to you, took whatever was in your hands and put it back up, just to take it and handle it to you.

"Here you go." you sighed. But your misfortune continue to grow when the other idiot came in.

"You're stuck there? Is it too high for you?" the dark haired guy tone was like it was making fun of you. He picked you up and put you down. "There there, no need to thank me." all you did was to sigh.

"I don't need this anymore. Can you put it back?" you handed whatever you had in your hands back to them.

"You got the wrong thing? This happens if you try to reach high places alone." the moment they turned their heads away from you was the way you disappeared from there. Oh, but it was hell the next few days. Nothing was in their right places and it turned you crazy. You gave up. If that's what they wanted to hear then they win. Just like always, you finally showed up in that kitchen. You sat at another chair, choosing a different one from your usual one. Head and hands on the table as you waited for them to appear there. You were about to call it defeat when you felt asleep. It was morning after all, at this time you would usually sleep. Heck, even the bed under you was sleeping. If you were pulling out the white flag, now they were the ones doing it. Seeing you there once again made them realize their mistake.

They apologized ,not to you physically but mentally. You did nothing more than just being curious. Who wouldn't be? Some rich guy let you stay in his house when you needed a place to stay. He didn't ask for anything, the rent was even lowered to half the price it was to the previous place you lived at. And even after all those rumors you heard, you didn't had to see any of their dates inside the house. It was nice living there, they tried to make an effort somehow to not disturb you. And so you did to them. But maybe they didn't thought about it in the end. Sure, it was childish, but wouldn't you do the same if you were in their shoes? Just like you, they have questions. They also want answers. Sure, their methods might be a little out of pocket, but try to think the way they do. They're too proud, you'll never see them asking for anything. They'll make you ask for it and then act nonchalant about it. Can't you see they're some big fucks? They're fuckers and they're proud. They're literally dickheads.

The strategy changed. They'll get you out that room in other ways. That's when you started to wake up with all kind of food and sweets. They'll get home and the first thing to do is to go to your room to announce what they got. It made you instantly get out the bed and follow them. They played dirty all the time. They did it in such a way that when you hear the front door you instantly get out the bed and sprint to who ever came back. Big smile on your face and knowing absolutely nothing about whatever scheme they might plan next.

"I didn't got anything today." Suguru's words made you lose your smile instantly. "Satoru might come with something tho." and that made your smile to come back.

"Can I stay with you until he comes back?" his smile seems so innocent. It made him look innocent. That old fox isn't playing according to the books. No, in fact he'll get off the right path just to get to what he wants faster. He knew exactly that your so called landlord wouldn't come back home tonight. Yet he's not going to say shit.

"Of course." and so, you ended up with him on the big couch that was in the living room, watching some movie that was playing on some random channel on tv. It would be such a big lie if he says whatever he was after was just friendship. Is he trying hard? Maybe. But he wants to look like you're the one worked up about it. He wants to look like he just happened to be there and that's it. And oh man he got what he want. By the end of that movie you two ended up in your room. His hands moved so fast to get your clothes off the moment that door was closed. The big windows gave so much light that he could see very clearly where your bed was at.

"Suguru.." you whined his name so sweet and softly. It took all the control he haves to not jump on you in that exact moment, not like he wasn't all over you. If he knew that he could have got to this point sooner from a movie and some takeaways he would have got through this a long time ago. You sat at the edge of the bed, looking at him taking his clothes off and just jumping back on you.

"Have you done this before?" he was placed in between your legs ,one of his hands placed on your thigh as the other was on the bed right next to you keeping him from not putting all his weight on you. You nodded your head slowly.

"But it's been a while so be gentle with me." animal in heat describes him the best. It looked like a big bad wolf was on top of its prey. If you still can walk tomorrow then that means he did a bad job. But your sweet words made him realize that's too soon. How can he get in your bed again if he scares you now?

"Alright." the hand he had on your thigh moved in between your legs. You were so wet after that little make out session you had on the couch. It should be a crime to leave you alone when you clearly need his help. He's only playing the bigger person so he won't fuck everything right now, so let him believe in his delusions.

Two of his fingers were inside you, moving them in and out of you for a few moments just to see how far he can go. And then he started to curl them, making you instantly squirm. Did the other guy you fucked not do a good job? Maybe that's why you had almost non existent experience in this. Maybe you were left disappointed. Aren't you lucky? He likes to hear only good reviews about himself. Oh, but he hopes you heard about his services. If you're so interested in what other people says then you should definitely listen to the people that ended in the same bed as him. "I know you like it, but stop moving so much." he stopped his hand movement for a moment to let you breathe. He's lying. He likes the way you're squirming and trembling at everything he does.

"You're so mean." you whined. If that was mean then he doesn't know how to call whatever he's usually doing. He likes it rough. He likes to see tears in the eyes of who ever he's fucking. He likes to relieve his stress in questionable ways.

"Am I?" he had this diabolical smirk on his face. Evil was too little to say. He looked like he let his demons out of leash. His face got closer to yours, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he started to move his hand again. He'd go as deep as he can, discovering all kind of places, touching you here and there just to see you melt. "Come on, look at me, don't close your eyes." he'll rub your clit for time to time, just to remind you about it. It was mostly to see your expressions, and to remind you how mean he can be. If you said he is then he is, no? This was him just being the fucker he is. Toying with you just to show you how he can make you feel. And to remind you that if he gives, then he also can take away all these new overwhelming feelings. Beg for him. That's what he wants to hear from you after all. Cries and begs.

And you were falling all for it. The way you would cry his name was like good news to his ears, a melody that's he's so happy to hear. His fingers are always making sure to touch all the good places. But at some point it was too much, you felt like you were going over the edge, your vision completely disappearing when you came all over his hand. And he still kept toying with you. "Please-" you gasped. "No more.." you were so dumb for him that he couldn't help but want to over stimulate you, play with you until you're begging for more.

"You can take it, can't you?" it was an obvious no from you. It was the first time you felt this overwhelming, you clearly needed a break to calm down.

"Kiss me." you wanted to feel more than just his evil scheme. A kiss would go so good after that torture. But he stopped the moment you said those words. He just wanted to show you whos in charge of this, because he clearly didn't liked how comfortable you got with him. You didn't seemed to look mad at him for not fulfill your request, no, in fact you only sighed relived. Finally you were free from his cursed hands. He pressed your legs together and put them on his shoulder. You weren't ready for the big thing. You bearly can take his thick fingers, just looking at his cock made you almost pass out. "I don't think I'm ready for that.." you gulped, you only hoped to hear something about how you could do it if you wanted to or any words of encouragement.

"I know you can't." he said as his hand traveled to your pussy, collecting some of your juices to rub it on his cock along with his precum. "The moment I'll get inside that pussy of yours I'll make sure you won't be able to walk for days." he said as he slips his cock in between your thighs. He expected to get more than this in return, because in his head he deserves more than he gives, at least in that situation. But he's not that horny yet to forget about his morals. So this is enough for the moment, because he knows that in the future you'll be able to give him so much more than now.

He hated those eyes of yours. The way you would look so innocent, curious. Ughh. It just made him want to ruin you. Just look at the way you look at him right now. Big eyes, just as curious as always, yet he can see it more playful. It made him think that you're not taking him seriously. "Does it feel good?" he kept moving his hips back and forth, rubbing his cock on your skin. It felt so soft and warm. Your whole body was warm no matter where he puts his hands on you. He couldn't give you an answer, not because he couldn't, it was more because he didn't want to. Why don't you figure it out yourself? All he can do was to grunt, hopping you'll get the message.

His grip on your thighs was so tight that it might leave a bruise. He felt like your going to run away the moment you get a chance to. So all he can do was to grab you as close as he can. Keeping your legs in place as he moves his hips. What was first a slow pace now turned into fast and desperate thrusts. He couldn't keep his head straight, he couldn't think anymore the moment he felt like hes getting closer and closer to that sweet release he kept chasing after. He wanted to hear something from you, it was too quiet. Yet he can't ask for it, because his ego is just not letting him.

He'll eat you up. The moment he would get inside that pussy of yours he'll make sure the whole neighborhood would hear his name. "I'd fuck that mouth of yours right now if I could." he let his thoughts out. He couldn't think of a single peaceful or good word to say to you. And you didn't said anything about it and took whatever he had to say. You watched him the whole time. You can clearly see that something is wrong with him. His face, his actions are showing so. "Fuuuck." he was so so so close. He had so many things to say yet he didn't said shit because it just didn't felt like it was the right time. You weren't in the same situation as him, you weren't going through the same rollercoaster of emotions. He really wanted to flip you over, fuck you from behind as he'd just call you a slut, or any names to degradate you. You could take it, can't you? You could take this load right here right now and thanks him for it at the end, won't you? Lost in his thoughts, he finally came all over your belly. Still moving his hips just to get everything all out.

What a night, huh. He felt into the bed right next to you, tired, and just wanting to get some sleep. Wasn't it surprising tho? He just changed one time the way he's going at it and now he feels like he ran a marathon. And you had the audacity to look at him with those big eyes again. Looking so sweetly and ready to take him for real this time. "You'll sleep here tonight?"

"Who knows." he would do like always, he knew the answer yet he couldn't say that he was ready to leave in this instance your room to go back to his. He waited for you to fall asleep before he finally retreated to his bedroom.

He could only imagine how you'll react tomorrow when you can't see him. He thought you'll stay in your room just like always. But no, the next day you were in that kitchen, sitting next to him so shyly. It was like you were back to the beginning. You didn't want anything more from him than just ask if everything is alright between you too. Just to make sure everything stays the way it was before. But you can't really say anything since your landlord is also there. And this makes you feel so guilty.

"Ehh. You really done it, didn't you." the white haired guy said something. That scared you, your heart almost left your body. Does he knows? Were you in trouble? "Don't worry, Y/N. Whatever happened he probably doesn't even remembers about it." the dark haired guy only smiled like he didn't know why you were acting like that. Since his friend was so clueless maybe he could tease you about it a little.

"Hmm? What have I done?" you could see your soul leaving your body. All you wanted to do is to make sure that nothing will change after last night. But this was too much. You were on the verge of crying.

"L- let's talk about it later!" you ran from there like always. How long would it last until you'll say something? He won't say a word until you do the first step. Why? Because he liked to see you cry. He didn't thought that he would bully you, but you clearly deserve it for playing with his head.

Imagine his surprise to see you the next day in the kitchen again. If he would be the first to come out his room, now he would make sure to come as late as possible. You could go to his room and say whatever you had to say, yet you didn't. You would go in that damn kitchen all the time to have any interactions in there. Was that small talk enough for you? Didn't you wanted more? Because if you would come to his room he promise to reward you for your courage and give you a little bit of himself. You could even choose what you wanted from him. He would be glad to hear what you had to say. That if you stop going into that kitchen and just be straight forward. In his eyes you were a coward. Yet he loved toying you the way he wants.

You sat next to him again. This time more determined than before. You took out your phone and typed a simple question in your notepad.

'Can I ask you something?' you showed him your phone screen.

He acted like he didn't see it.

'I really want to ask you something.'

Still he acted like he didn't see anything.

This was pure madness. This was getting on your nerves. You stepped on his foot to get his attention. He gasped as he looked in shock at you. The nerves. The audacity. You point to your phone again yet he keeps acting like he doesn't see anything. He even turned his face away.

"Just talk already." Gojo only rolled his eyes. "What happened anyway?"

Geto looked at you. He didn't planned on saying anything unless you said it. He just wanted to fuck with you after all. Nothing more besides getting on your nevers. You wanted to say it so bad. The words wouldn't come out your mouth when so many eyes were on you. It didn't matter if it were only them. You can't say it. So you did the only thing you had left. Retreat. At least for the moment. You got out of there and stormed in your room. Next time it's either a win or nothing at all. You swear to get an end to this and then you can live peacefully and go on with your life.

The next day you waited on the hallway for that stubborn man to come out his room. It was a long wait, yet you stayed by his door until he finally came out. "Are we good. Yes or no?" you went straight to the point. All these days of playing around made you sick of this.

"Why don't you come in so we could talk about it?" he wanted you in his room, he would have you there.

"I just want to know that nothing changed."

"What do you mean by that?" this damn wolf.

"Like. We're the same as before, right? I just want to make sure nothing changed." he had that dumb smile on his face and he kept acting like he doesn't know shit.

"Come in and lets talk." this was making you so mad. He didn't wanted to talk when you tried before but now hes willing to talk about it? He grabbed your hand and dragged you in his room, pushing you against the door as soon as he closed it. Hands in your shirt going up as his lips touched yours. Here was your reward for taking such a big step.

"You said talk." you gasped for air.

"This is also a form of talking." his cold hands made you squirm. The way he's moving his hands up and down against your skin. He wanted to go all the way up to your breasts until you heard a someone knocking on the door.

"It's me. Just wanted to make sure you two are alright." this was clearly a way to get out of there before this situation gets worse.

"Ah yes. We're fine." a hand grabbed your arm, stopping you from going further away. That damn fox just can't let you go yet.

"Can I know what happened?" you tried to not panic, but you just couldn't. Your mind was still on whatever happened earlier.

"We watched a movie and we argued about it." it was far from the truth. But you'll just go with what Geto said. You can't think of a better excuse.

"Huh?" your landlord raised and eyebrow.

"It was a good movie. Right, Y/N?" the way this man haves to drag you through mud and hell before you could have a break. He knew he couldn't do anything, yet he still kept trying only to make you anxious.

You gulped. "Indeed." you can't even find your words.

"So we can go like how it was before then." this evil man said it like you weren't the one that kept trying to make sure everything is alright.

"I should put a parental lock on that tv." your landlord only sighed and turned around going back to the kitchen. You ran from there in your room. Only wanting a break from this madness.

I wanted to post this sooner, but I also wanted to finish a few more parts first. Well, I'm just glad I got to finish this at least.

[apple-orchards-writings]

OHHH ALPHA SYDNEY WITH OMEGA KYLAR... Howls about it. How simple things seem when they're younger (probably before they present), how complicated it all gets as they grow up...

Sydney noticing Kylar being bothered by people in the library and going to do something about it, because barred from talking to them or not, Kylar doesn't look well (and part of Sydney still cares for them), full of cornered-animal fury but looking closer to collapse than they've ever seen, and the library is their responsibility, and they Can do something here, it'd be worse not to and surely the Lord would understand - only to be hit with the full force of Kylar's heat (preheat?) once they've shooed off the others, their heart that's already beating fast with the stress of confrontation speeding up for a different reason...

(The pure force of want that hits them frightens them. Their mouth starts to water, eyes dilate, they have to hold their cross to steady themself (maybe haven't ever been so close to an omega in heat before) - but they can't focus on that, can't afford to indulge the sinful thoughts and Kylar is still staring wide-eyed up at them and they can't, they need to get them somewhere safe, as much as part of them aches to lean in closer and scent them and mark them and take care of them, Kylar looks ill, they need to go to the nurse, or they need to go to Sirris, and and and...)

(God. And to be KYLAR here, cornered (yet again.) but knowing it's so much worse this time because they're going into heat, they're going to be vulnerable soon and these bastards can *smell* it on them, they have their pepper spray but they'd get another assault charge with so many witnesses - they just need to get away, to make sure they aren't followed, they need to get home and cobble together some nest to curl around their owl in, hide away in for a while and...

Suddenly they don't have to endure it anymore. They're being saved, someone's coming to their defense, and their heart jumps into their throat before they realize it's Sydney standing there with a ruler in hand, putting off pheromones Kylar never would've expected from them, actually talking to them again, for once, worrying about them... THE MIX OF EMOTIONS GETS ME!!!)

Whether either of Sydney's intentions pan out, or Kylar just runs away instead, Sydney ends up going home early, too. They feel distracted, feverish, they... God. They're beginning to get frustrated with their chastity belt, which is a mortifying thing to even think. They're clearly ill. (A/N: that's rough rut, buddy...) They can't stop thinking about it.

(Unbeknownst, Kylar might be having a very similar reaction in their own house.)

(BONUS: ohhh there is some connection to be drawn between scentmarking in omegaverse and body writing . Leaving a mark people can smell/see, whether just friendly or far more intimate...)

im dead and buried anon jesus christ i could kiss you omg

Kylar that night, feeling obviously conflicted, because, on one hand, that's Sydney, their former friend that hasn't talked to them in years, and reconnecting now of all times has to be a joke. But on the other hand... Sydney saved them, and that look in their eyes at that moment was, was just... Incandescent, as well as just purely indecent. The hot feeling in their gut won't go away, and every time they remember Sydney's face and the want in their eyes, Kylar can't help but grind on their plushie and bury themselves deeper in their nest.

They spend their whole heat just fantasizing about what could've happened in the library, desperately rutting into their pillows while picturing Sydney's face and body. Once the heat passes, they'll obviously have very mixed feelings, but in the moment, this is all that's getting them off. Imagining being Sydney's omega, having Sydney as their alpha, the life they could have... It's putting them in a trance.

Meanwhile, Sirris is getting worried, Sydney hasn't come out of their room for dinner and their voice is very strained when Sirris asks what's wrong. Maybe it's just sickness ? But what kind of sickness requires the help of the toolbox and lubricant ?

Once they're both ready to come back to school, Kylar is surprised to see Sydney waiting for them at the school entrance, and even more shocked when the latter quite literally douses them in their scent. They're too stunned to even think about getting away, and Sydney takes this opportunity to ruffle their hair and slip away with a smile. Surprisingly, they get bullied less the following days.

(oh man i had such a blast reading your ask i was literally jumping around thinking about this !!!)

[reversebt]

Old Friend

Adam has had enough of sitting alone inside and decides to go to a bar, where he runs into an old friend, and things go well?

warnings: none!!

Adam was not your typical “go out on a Friday and party” kind of guy, he was more of a “sit inside alone and smoke weed” kind of guy. He never liked the scene, hot sweaty people crowded around him are just not ideal. However, he would sometimes get into a mood and decide he was over sitting his apartment alone, and he would go out to small and quiet bars in hopes of finding a partner for the night. Tonight happened to be one of those nights. He put on a not necessarily nice, but at least clean, shirt and a flannel, keeping on the same pants he had on earlier that day. He didn’t care to put much effort into the way he looked. He figured whoever he would bring home that night would inevitably see his messy apartment, so why not look the part. After grabbing his headphones and music player, he slipped on his shoes and took a hit from the bong sitting on the table in his living room. The walls were peeling with paint and stained yellow a bit, and the room was bare for the most part. It was a small studio apartment where the bed and living room act as one and the bathroom is practically in the kitchen. Not ideal, but affordable at least. Smoke filled the clean air as he exhaled, preparing himself for what would probably be a very overstimulating and awkward night. 

As he steps outside, Adam begins to regret his decision, almost going back inside. Ever since being a victim of Jigsaw, Adam found it hard to go out and do much of anything. It was hard to trust anyone, especially when the killer still had not been found. But Adam was determined to take control of his life again. One thing he is is stubborn, and he will be damned if he lets this unknown man control him like a puppet. Adam would not let him take anything from him again. 

Approaching the bar, Adam can feel his limbs start to go numb, probably from anxiety but he’ll blame it on the cold. He steps inside, greeted with dull yellow lights and the low sound of something country playing in the background. Adam walks up to the bar, mustering up the courage to order just a beer for now. Though he’s not really a fan of the way beer tastes, he doesn’t normally go out and it is the easiest (and cheapest) thing to order. He scans the room, looking for someone to approach when his eyes lay on a tall, older looking man. He’s got short blond hair and is wearing a coat. He looks vaguely familiar but Adam can’t really place it. He’s cute, Adam thinks to himself, even though he can’t really get a look at his face, doubt he’s gay though.

After a few more beers, however, his thought process began to change. Fuck it, he thinks, who cares anymore, I almost died, I can do anything. Adam sucks in his fear, swallowing the last bit of his drink before getting up and walking over to the man. However, the confidence and color drained from his body as soon as the man turned around. Lawrence Gordan?? The last person he would’ve ever thought about running into, and the last person he ever thought he would be trying to hit on. Apparently, Lawerence felt the same way judging by the way his face fell too. 

“Lawrence?” Adam tries to act casual, like it was not a big deal he was seeing his previous trap-mate standing right in front of him. “How have you been!” 

Lawrence, clearly not as amused as Adam, speaks softly, “Adam… I didn’t think I would see you again.” Adam can feel heat coming up to his face as he thinks about how embarrassing this is. His face is going red which makes him sweat harder which makes him more anxious. It’s a vicious cycle. 

“Yeah, umm how about we catch up? Grab a drink together?” Adam asks, faking any confidence he may be exuding. He thinks about why he originally approaches Lawrence, weighing his options, do I really hit on a guy I was kidnapped with? Well, he is a little intoxicated and maybe his brain isn’t working properly, but he thinks to himself, why not, he’s always been kinda cute anyways. If Adam remembers correctly, Lawrence is married, though he doesn’t seem to be wearing a ring tonight. 

After a long pause, Lawrence just looking at Adam, he says without smiling, “Sure.” 

Eventually after some drinks, Lawrence’s mood has shifted from closed off and cautious to slightly more open and has even smiled a few times at Adam’s jokes. Adam was drunk by this point, but still aware enough to hold a conversation. Lawrence on the other hand preferred to stay more alert, still only on his second beer. He couldn’t deny, the man was charming and if he hadn’t known Adam prior to this, he might’ve flirted back a little more. But given they both hadn’t seen each other since they were kidnapped together, it felt a little inappropriate to him. Though the night had been going well and he wouldn’t mind maybe getting to know the man. Lawrence couldn’t deny, he has attractive, boyish features. Short and messy hair, red cheeks contrasting his pale skin. Though Lawrence was more put together with his appearance, the carelessness of Adam’s, the messy hair, the way his pants hung lowly on his hips, or how his shirt was a little too big on him, was very captivating. But, that had to be the alcohol thinking for him, right? 

“So, you know it’s getting kinda late…” Adam began, making Lawrence (who was now on drink 4) raise an eyebrow, “What do you say we take this party back to my place?” He was grinning ear to ear now, certain Lawrence would say yes. 

Instead Lawrence stares for a minute, taking in Adams rosy cheeks and bloodshot eyes. He gives a small smile before grabbing a napkin and a pen, writing something Adam couldn’t see quite yet. He slides the napkin over with his phone number written on it, “Let’s keep in touch, Adam.”

[periprose]

Snippet of the Peter italy fic if you feel comfy w posting any of it? 🙏💕

Here's the link to the original post describing the WIP in case you've never heard of it

what a lovely idea, anon! I would just like to say for context- this is very early on in the fic, and Peter wonders why you don't seem to care about him anymore. Snippet below, and continues past the keep reading mark:

Peter has never considered you not his best friend, and the fact that you might as well be pulling away from him now, possibly forever, makes him feel sick to his stomach. How can he rectify the issue when he doesn’t know what it is?

He’s been lying on his bed, throwing a tennis ball up at his ceiling, and then catching it. The repetitive motion usually allows Peter to turn the cogs and gears in his mind, but… Dr. Octavius had him working days and nights for the last six months, so Peter’s head just isn’t in the right space.

He thinks about the timeline, as he often does.

Peter met you in second grade at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. In Ms. Grey’s class- she was a pretty redhead, and Peter would often wistfully think about marrying her in the way that a second grader has a crush on their teacher- until, of course, he and you witnessed Logan and her in a very passionate embrace at a school dance, sometime in the fourth grade.

Peter shudders. 

Then around… the summer break where you were both nine years old, you headed to Florence, Italy. Just you, Logan, (not your mom as that was a touchy subject for everyone, and to this day, Peter has no idea who your mom even is), Aunt May, Uncle Ben, and Peter. It was really special- vacations were not something Logan or May or Ben could typically afford- but it was a seasonal package offered from Logan’s teaching job, and it included all five potential members of a family. 

Logan and Ben were drinking buddies, and they liked playing poker together, much to the chagrin of May, but she would sometimes join in too. Peter was- is- your best friend, and so it seemed obvious to Logan that the five of you should go. 

And every year, every summer break, from the ages of nine to just eighteen, you would go to Florence together. As you went every year, traditions would be formed, bonds would be stronger, and everyone would feel relaxed as the Italian sunsets warmed your bodies and minds.

Peter has many fond memories from those times. You and him would always sit next to each other on the plane, and watch movies for the whole duration for the flight, even if Logan would tell you guys that you needed to sleep at some point.

Then, because the bus taking you to Florence would drive from the Naples airport to your hotel there- you would always get Neapolitan pizza, and split it together. And there was always basil-mint gelato to be had, too.

Then, swimming on the lovely, warm beaches of Italy, and maybe some sightseeing- there’s a lot of gorgeous, religious art there. You also loved walking down the cobblestone streets of Florence with Peter- chasing random things that caught your eyes, and taking loads of pictures. He wasn’t religious at all, but he enjoyed visiting the churches by your side. You also went out of your way to hike a lot, through Italy’s marvelous architecture and fields. You visited a winery, even though when you went, you were both a little too young to officially drink, but Logan let you guys have a sip anyways.

Peter smiles to himself. One of his favourite memories was the year you both were thirteen- starting out into the world of teenagers- and you had just started your period. It was not a good time for you, and you were clearly very grumpy about it. He gave you a heating pad, and pain medication, and didn’t go swimming until your period was over, so you could go together. You had been so happy when he told you that- and you hugged him so tight, he’s been chasing that feeling ever since.

When you began high school, you brought all your textbooks and things with you on the trip that year- even though Logan, May and Ben called you a bunch of nerds- and studied for your exams together. Peter was glad to have you as a study buddy, because Harry slacked a lot and Peter didn’t want that kind of behaviour influencing him. MJ was pretty good at studying, too, but if Harry asked her to go out, she was the type to just give up.

There was that really sweet time that you and Peter went to the aquarium and watched a group of baby turtles swim together. And you bought a pair of turtle keychains- it’s still dangling off of his work bag. 

There was also that absolutely hilarious time that Peter heard you screaming in your motel room- you both must’ve been 15 at that point- and he leapt in there to see you coming out of the bathroom, still in your first bikini. Peter tried not to be a creep about this- but he was a nerdy 15 year old and it was difficult to avert his eyes from any young, budding, almost developed-woman- and he stared at you, face reddening, before you stammered out about a large spider in the bathroom. It was quite large, and he managed to catch it and get rid of it.

Peter remembers that you grabbed his arm in relief, and then let go, stuttering about how you needed to change your clothes, and he tried not to freak out over that mental image at the time. He snorts about it now- what a silly young kid he used to be.

He wonders why he still feels like one. Isn’t he twenty-six years old? How does he fix things?

You began to pull away, around eleventh and twelfth grade. It became easier for you to say that you were busy with something, and Peter was not the type to really push you back then. You started ignoring his calls- and his pestering about whether or not you wanted to go get pizza, like you usually always did on Saturdays. Did you even still like Neapolitan style pizza?

The last time he really remembered that you had a good time with him was the last trip to Florence- in the summer break at the end of twelfth grade- and after that, Logan no longer received the benefits for the trip, and you two were both on your way to university, anyways.

Peter sighs. He went to Empire State- and you, NYU. And that was where you guys began to drift quite quickly. People get busy, of course, and university took up everyone’s time. He just never thought you would let go of him like that. He misses you, a lot, to the point where he’s had dreams in which you’re just around him again, smiling. 

Peter doesn’t know if he’ll get over this.

[stormyjane7]

A Red Eyed Devil

Read here on AO3

It had been a few days since you had clearly made it apparent to each other and the group that you were bound to one another. As you looked up from your book, and around the camp, you knew that it hadn’t stopped everyone fussing and flirting with what you felt like was already claimed as yours. It was starting to aggravate you more and more as you thought about it. What gave them the right to think they could get you away from him? You catch Gale looking in your direction after another sloppy attempt at flirting with Tav. If you could have killed him with just your glare, he’d be in a puddle of his own blood right now. Gale sheepishly looked away from you. You both knew he was caught red handed and in the wrong. 

A growl almost escaped your lips as you saw that Shadowheart was attempting next. This was truly unbelievable. Did she not even see Gale's failed attempt and certain death glare from you? Though granted you were sure she was into the darker side of the bedroom things, so she might enjoy being threatened. You held your breath as you see once again Tav smile graciously and turn her down. 

Thankfully your love was breaking away from the group and heading over to you. Her face held a sour expression which fanned the fire building in you. Jealousy and possessiveness were never feelings you were afforded before the tadpole. You could never have anything outside of whatever scraps you were given. Now that you are free to roam, holding as tight as you can to the one Gods damn good thing in your miserable life is all you have. Fuck anyone who step into your territory. 

“Can you believe them?” Tav sighs as she reaches where you are. “I can’t keep telling them no over and over. They just don’t get it that I'm taken and not up for grabs anymore.”

“Well my dearest, I do have an idea to get them to stop. You may not be up for it however, it would be quite the scandal.”

“I’m listening. What did you have in mind? If I can get them to stop and leave me, us, alone I’m all ears.”

“What if you let me take you right in front of them? Use their own shame against them. I doubt after that they would question my claim on you or you on me.” You can see that she is blushing, even spots on her chest. If you were to strip her now, you could win a bet she was red from head to toe.

“I..uh..wow.” She coughs trying to gather her composure. 

“It’s okay love. It’s just a wild idea and does not have to be done. We can figure out something less, debauched.” 

“No.” She said firmly while looking back at the group. “While I’d hate to give them a free show, it’s quite possibly the only way to get them to stop this nonsense.” She looks back up at you with determination on her face. “Lets do it. Nothing showy, just quick and to the point. If we’re still heated after we’ll just go out into the forest to finish up. Deal?” “Oh darling, deal indeed.” You close your book and set it to the side. “Go on then dear. I’m right behind you.” You watch her walk with what seems to be the biggest confidence boost toward the group. Her face must be commanding attention as the chatter around the fire stopped as she approached. She took a breath before she started undressing herself. Weapons that were being clean, fell out of hands; a lit cigar was now rolling on the ground; and a spell book closed with a resounding snap. All eyes were in a state of lust and confusion as they watched their fearless leader undress themselves fully. 

“I want you all to watch and learn. I tried playing it nice but maybe this will get it through your heads.” She said tilting her head up in a defiant way.

You saunter up behind her and hear a gasp from the group as you wrap your hands around the top of one shoulder and around her waist. You turn her around in your arms. 

“Tav, do you consent to submit to what I’m about to do to and with you?” You lift her chin up with a hand so you can look directly in her eyes.

She nods. “Yes Astarion.”

“Good girl. Now get on your knees for me won’t you dear?” The silence in the camp was truly deafening as everyone watched their leader get on her knees in front of you. “Now, release me of my trousers and do whatever it is you wish with me. I’m not picky.” You say with a grin.

She undoes the laces of your trousers and lowers them down your legs. You kick them off to the side. She gingerly wraps her hand around your hard length and gives it a reassuring squeeze. You stare into her eyes as you watch her open her mouth to wrap her lips around you. 

“That’s right my pet. You’re so Gods damn good for me.” You make sure to put strength behind the words of possession. You grab her hair and slide yourself in and out of her mouth. You look at the camp group as you make her go all the way down to the base and make her gag. The expressions among the group were priceless. You pull your sweet girl off of you, wiping the precum and spit off of her lips.

“Now won’t you be a good girl and turn around towards our dear, sweet, and smart friends on your hands and knees?” She smiles and nods at you. After she has done so, she gives you a wiggle showing you that she was okay and ready to continue. You got on your knees behind her and in one smooth motion entered her from behind. Her head throws back with a moan escaping her lips.

“Now, dear, sweet, smart friends. I want you to understand one thing.” You grab her hair again to make sure that her face is up towards them. You can see her eyes are closed with the throws of passion rather than shame, so you don’t make her open them at this time. As you speak again you start thrusting into her make sure to slam with each word. “She. Is. Mine. I. Am. Her’s.” 

She cries out after you said the words. You slow your pace a tiny bit so that your words came out as clearly as possible. “If I catch any of you flirting with her again with true intention, I will have your head. Is that clear?” You growl the last sentence.

The entire group snaps out of their trance to vigorously nod their heads. 

“Good.” You pull out of Tav and grab your pants to pull them back on before you scoop your darling up and head towards the forest. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have unfinished business to attend to now that you have been set in your places.”

[o-kaythislooksbad]

@ailesswhumptober day 17: hypothermia / heat stroke / "you look a little pale"

[happy tuesday the 17th! here's a bit of shawn's pov as he cracks the case, and the aftermath of his second worst day at camp tikihama]

wind whips the bare trees around the cabin. lightning flashes through the window, casting lopsided shadows into the room, as thunder crashes loudly, covering the sound of the creaking branches.

"come on, shawn, what's taking you so long?" gus calls from the main room, but shawn's focus is elsewhere. there's a pale figure floating in the lake, even though jason's game is over.

everyone rushes to retrieve the janitor's body. he's dead, dead, unlike annie, and of course they're all cut off from outside help. it's fine, everything's fine - shawn's a psychic, after all, and jules is the best cop this side of anywhere, so they've got nothing to worry about, besides, the fridge is stocked full of snacks, and it's not like the corpse is going anywhere. all they have to do is ride out the storm.

as exciting as billy's game of strip cribbage promises to be, shawn's much more interested in erwen's cold body. the marks on his neck are familiar, but when jules asks him about it, he plays the 'not getting a strong enough vibe' card. when they return from the porch, billy's lost most of his cards along with his clothes, but shawn can't afford any more distractions, not if he's gonna find the real killer. 

he figures out it's clive a moment too late and mentally kicks himself; billy went to check on the breaker, annie probably (definitely) isn't okay anymore, and clive is missing.

"i don't know why, but he did, and i'm going after him." shawn leaves gus in charge of keeping jason and sissy safe, and runs to the laundry cabin while jules runs to annie's.

he's too late, again, and it starts to rain as gus fights with clive in the abandoned pool. he falls, and shawn's feet dash across the concrete before he realizes he's moved off the grass.

the pool is mostly empty, but there's enough water to make the sparks flying an actual concern, and gus can't die, he can't, especially not after doing this all as payback for his jumpscares over the years.

"you're okay! you're okay!" shawn frantically yells as he rushes to the fallen body. "you're okay, you're okay, you're okay," he chants, closer to a question than a reassuring statement, but gus has to be okay.

gus has to be okay, but it's not gus's body in shawn's shivering hands. it's clive, and gus is nowhere in sight. on one hand, shawn's extremely relieved, but on the other, he's now facing a man with a grudge and the cold is preventing him from thinking clearly.

rain barrels down as gus tosses shawn a pool skimmer - "a pool skimmer, really?!" - to combat clive's blade. shawn does the only thing he can do as he defends himself, only slightly aware that he's babbling about a damn rick astley piñata, and the next thing he knows, gus is hurling pool noodles at clive's back.

shawn's disoriented, but he knows enough of the situation to know that gus should not be here. gus is too important, too kind and smart and foolish to die in such a stupid way. jules rushes in to the scene, because of course she does; she's brave and selfless and she has a gun and -

"- you have to take the shot!" shawn yells over the storm and clive's ranting. he closes his eyes, and the last thing he hears before his world turns black is the crack of the gunshot.

when he opens his eyes again, jason is sitting beside him on the couch, panting heavily. gus is muttering something to himself as he walks in circles around the kitchen, and sissy is calling for an ambulance.

on the opposite couch, annie sits on billy's lap while erwen rests beside them, his feet up on the coffee table. the water must have stopped his heart for a while, that's all, and shawn's eyes must have been playing tricks on him when he saw billy's body splayed out next to the circuit breaker.

"did we get 'im?" he asks, shuddering as rain drips from his hair to his chest.

"shawn! you're awake!" gus exclaims.

"i'm dis-com-bob'lated," shawn slurs, "not 'wake. did we get 'im?"

"yeah, shawn, we got him. juliet's handcuffed him outside; she's radioing in for backup."

"oh. tha's good."

"i'm sorry i ditched you, and made a piñata with jason cunningham," gus blurts out. "we wouldn't be in this mess - "

"nah," shawn shakes his head. the movement causes him to shake, and the room is suddenly way too cold. why does jason get to have all of the blankets? he's too cold to talk, but gus has known shawn their whole lives, and they can practically read each others' minds.

"hang on. i'll get you some blankets, and some hot cocoa."

"w'th mini 'shmellows?"

"don't push your luck, spencer," gus calls from the hallway, but there's no malice in his voice.

"love you, too," shawn mumbles, smiling a bit as he close his eyes again. he's safe, gus is safe, and that's all that matters.

[tathrin]

A response to this ask; taken from this prompt; anyone can feel free to send other numbers in at any time, I don’t care how long it’s been. (Just maybe add some context to your ask if it’s been like a month or more since I posted this, because otherwise I won’t know what to do with the random number in my inbox).

#36....to give up control.

This one takes place within the setting of this fic. For those who have not and do not care to read it, the set-up is that it’s an AU where Boromir took the Ring to Denethor, Sauron surrendered to Gondor in chains and surely isn’t planning to pull a Nûmenor on them oh no and Gimli was forced to take Durin’s Ring and be appointed Lord of Erebor by Denethor to prevent Gondor from sacking the Mountain. Legolas is currently a captive of the Lonely Mountain, specifically Gimli’s captive.

Legolas hates the sight of that Ring. That band of gold, that glittering gem — it is loathsome against Gimli’s flesh, its beauty foul beyond measurement in Legolas’s eyes. The Shadow of its power lies between them like a haze, casting Gimli’s features into a strange veiled darkness whenever he puts it on...and as Lord of Erebor, he cannot often afford to take it off.

(Too, he does not want to. That is how those Rings work, Legolas knows. Part of Gimli wants to cast the wretched thing away...but part of him, Legolas knows, does not. And never, ever will.)

Legolas hates it.

But the Lonely Mountain lives under Denethor’s heel now, and the Lord Denethor would be angered if his thrall cast away the leash of that Ring, and Gimli cannot afford to bring Gondor’s wrath down upon his people — and neither can Legolas. He is a captive of the Mountain, yes; this terrible mountain where so many of his people are held cruelly, and killed more cruelly. That does not mean he wants every dwarf in Erebor to die, does not mean he wants to watch their mountain burn the way the woods of Lothlórien burned; the way Mithrandir burned.

Does not mean he wants Gimli to die.

(Never, never wants that.)

But, oh, how he hates the sight of that Ring upon Gimli’s strong and skillful hand, hates to see the Shadow of its evil thought dull the brightness of his sight. Hates to feel the icy heat of its metal against his own skin, when Gimli takes his hand or touches him.

There is more of that now that they have found this desperate solution to the problem of Legolas’s captivity. Before, when Legolas was merely locked in Gimli’s chambers, he was always careful — oh, so careful! — to remove the Ring. But now that Legolas walks the halls of the Lonely Mountain behind Gimli, they do not have that luxury. If Gimli’s people are to truly believe that their lord keeps this elf as a precious pet of his own — if they are to convince Gondor that that is why Legolas has not been slain with the rest of his people — then they cannot allow themselves such comforts.

So Legolas has learned to brace himself against the touch of that foul gold against his skin, the whisper of it between his ears. He cannot hear the Thing, not clearly; not the way Gimli can. But when the Ring touches him, flickers of its thoughts break through; whispers, low and soft and terrible. It is a Thing of selfish greed and coveting bitterness and furious jealousy. The scrape of its sinuous words in Legolas’s mind is a thousand times worse than the brush of its metal sides against his skin...

But he cannot recoil from the touch of the Lord of Erebor, the dwarven lord who owns him. (It is a lie, of course; but it is also a truth, too, for while Legolas wears no chains anymore, he is not free. He cannot leave without Gimli’s permission, and Gimli does not have the power to grant him freedom, not without dooming the whole of the Mountain. They are both of them prisoners here.)

So when Gimli takes Legolas’s fingers with the hand that bears the Ring, Legolas lets him. When the gem of it blinks brightly in the torchlight that illuminates these underground halls, casting its Shadow over the brighter gleam of Gimli’s eyes, Legolas smiles as though his heart is not breaking at the sight.

When Gimli takes Legolas’s chin in his marvelous, strong, broad fingers, and the frigid heat of that fell metal pressed against his skin runs up through his veins and makes him shudder, Legolas leans down into the kiss, and closes his eyes against the tears that long to fall at the sight of his beloved Gimli chained to such darkness.

At the terrible truth of Gimli bowing to evil to save his people.

Legolas closes his eyes and leans into the kiss, as though if he only sinks deep enough into the warmth of Gimli’s heart he will find a core of fire strong enough to burn away the Shadow that shrouds his dear dwarf; the Shadow that lies over the whole Mountain, slowly eating the goodness of these stalwart dwarves away so that only greedy, selfish shells remain. As though if he surrenders himself to Gimli’s kiss, he can forget all the other surrenders and defeats that have brought them both to this place.

As though he can still be safe in Gimli’s arms.

It is a lie. But it is a lie that Legolas would give nearly anything to have become the truth.

The Ring whispers empty promises to him, offers to do just that. Legolas shudders, knowing that it cannot — and knowing, too, that it is only the knowledge that Durin’s Ring cannot stand against the One in the White City that owns it that keeps the offer from tempting him. Legolas had thought it terrible, on that desperate Quest that failed, to have the One Ring whispering its offers to him in the darkness of the empty night, but there was nothing that it could promise to give him that he wanted and so its words were thin and weak and easily ignored.

This is different. This is harder, because this is Gimli.

His dear, beloved Gimli. Legolas whimpers into the kiss, and Gimli draws back enough to wipe his thumb across Legolas’s cheeks, soothing away his tears.

When Legolas opens his eyes again, he sees the glimmer of their wetness on the gem of Durin’s Ring, bright as mithril in the torchlight, and thinks that he has never seen anything so terrible.

Then he looks up, and sees the Shadow in Gimli’s smiling eyes, and that is so much worse.

It is easier to sink down into the kiss again than it is to look upon the sight of his beloved dwarf so marred by Shadow; easier to drape himself across Gimli’s lap and curl down to part the soft braids of that beautiful beard and press his lips to Gimli’s; easier to let himself drown in the warmth of wide dwarven arms folded tight around his waist; broad dwarven hands spread strong against his back and curled across his knees; to let himself be held by those hands, so wide and strong that they might cradle a whole mountain in the protection of their palms, were it not for that terrible band of gold curled so dark upon them.

It is so much easier to simply surrender.

The fight, after all, was lost years ago. All the world is darkness now; all save the comforting embers of Gimli’s arms around him, Gimli’s lips upon him, Gimli’s braids draped across him. So much easier to surrender, when you have already lost.

Durin’s Ring whispers its seductive offers in Legolas’s ear and he closes his eyes and kisses Gimli harder. It is what the Ring wants, of course, but it is what Legolas wants too—or at least, is as close to what he wants as he will ever come in this world fallen so far into Shadow.

Hope is dead. So he kisses Gimli, chasing its last fading embers into the dark.

[urmumsdrycooch]

ᒪIᐯEᔕ ᗪEᑭEᑎᗪEᗪ Oᑎ IT

Alex Chen x GN!Reader

Summary: "A gn!reader x Alex Chen from lis: true colours where reader is new to Haven and they know Alex because they used to date (let's just say she's a bit older since shes, like 16 or something in the game) but they broke up because Alex had abandonment issues (you can add anything else if you like) so when reader shows up, Alex is a bit distand and cold shouldered because shes falling in love with them again and is super scared to admit it even though reader never stopped loving her? Happy ending and all pretty please with a cherry on top?"

Warnings: Swearing, abandonment issues.

Someone told me that the best way to start life is by moving on and away. Make things happen for yourself, get out and seize every opportunity that crosses your path. Live life to the fullest and don't let anything hold you back. Though I may not remember who, it didn't stop me from following their words.

I'd been living in Portland for the past two years, and those two years were probably the shittiest of my life. Living on minimum wage in some good-for-nothing bar in the cheapest flat possible with a roommate I never see and their cat, still trying to recover from a breakup from like a year ago.

I had given up on everything and everyone. I was going through the motions, just existing.

One day, I was at the bar, nursing a beer and scrolling through my phone when I saw an advertisement for a job in a small town over in Colorado. I continued to scan over every minute detail, each word tempting me more and more. It gave me everything I lacked, a stable home and job, a community, and just peace within myself. I hesitated for a moment, but then I decided to go for it, sending an email to the ad's address.

It wasn't exactly how I'd planned on spending my shift, but for some reason, I don't feel a single ounce of remorse. So as soon as I got home I began packing.

It felt all too familiar, shoving all your stuff in bags knowing you'll be leaving everything behind. All too familiar.

I'd been placed in this situation a year ago, I was with someone, I was in love, but it doesn't matter anymore. Well, it shouldn't matter, even thought it's the only thing I remember before this version of my life. I chose to be with her, I gave everything for her, I was doing it for Alex and I, but clearly she couldn't do the same. She destroyed every ounce of my happiness with a few of her words, it was almost like she knew exactly how to take apart all of my feelings.

But this time, I knew that I was doing it for me.

After numerous taxis I could barely afford and several mental breakdowns, I arrived in Colorado two weeks later and despite the nerves, at first glance, it was all worth it. Haven was adorable, the people looked friendly, and the job position was perfect. It was everything I'd ever wanted and more.

That was all until 2 hours post arrival. Where I'm at now. Occasionally glancing through a record shop window, in fear I'd seen someone I'd been trying to escape. Brushing it off as if it were just my mind playing tricks on me.

Considering it was the first day, I settled in nicely, a cutesy little flat above one of the shops littered around the town. It already felt like home, but as always, something had to go wrong.

I slept like a baby knowing I had no more major responsibilities to take care of, I can simply just live my life.

I exit the building the morning after to take a walk around Haven, and familiarise myself with my new home. I stroll past the small ice cream shop, the couple (who I guess is the owners) outside in a heated discussion. Then passing by a post office, I look ahead, and finally, something intrigues me.

'Rocky Mountain Record Traders', sounds cool, might go have a look inside.

I wander over to the door, letting my hand push it open. I'm greeted by a cheerful auburn girl, rocking a navy blue beanie, "Welcome!"

"Hey," I smile back out of politeness.

"Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you around?" She questions, leaning back on the counter.

"Yeah, got here yesterday from Portland," I answer, scratching the back of my neck.

"Oh, cool! My friend in the back is from Portland, what's your name?" The auburn beams, waiting for my response so she can call her friend.

"Y/n. Y/n L/n."

There she is, she walks in, taking one glance at me then not bothering to spare another in my direction. It feels like my heart's stopped as if I'm witnessing a scene from a movie and not reality. I can't move, I can't do anything as she stands in front of me, my heart shattering into a million pieces all over again.

"Have I reunited something special or are you total strangers?" Steph jokes in an attempt to fill the silence.

"Total strangers." The black-haired girl huffs before turning around and walking out the door.

What is her fucking problem? Can't we at least be civil, I didn't end us, she did. I should be the one storming out the door, the fucking nerve of her. She doesn't get to walk out on me. Not again. "Hey, where are you going?" Steph asks, not receiving an answer from the girl.

Steph glances at me with raised eyebrows, unknowing of what had just happened. I can tell she's decided not to dwell on it, simply just giving me a nod before letting me leave.

Later that night I sat in my room, wondering how the only good thing in my life has been ruined by the only good thing in another life. How did we end up in the same place again? Part of me wants to say fate, but it's immediately terminated as soon as it was brought to mind. Alex doesn't get to be angry, she left me. No goodbye. No explanation. Nothing.

I go to sleep with her on my mind, nothing has changed.

I wake up in the morning and do as I usually would, shower, brush my hair and teeth, etcetera. It soon gets to 1:30, and I begin to make my way over to my new job, a bartender at some bar called the Black Lantern, I talk to some guy called Jed who runs the place and we discuss my schedule and wages, nothing too exciting, then I finally get to work.

I scan the room, noting the very... unique style, unable to tell if it's pirate-esque or cowboy-esque. I continue to think about that for another half hour until I notice somebody to my side.

I take my eyes off the beer I had begun to pour to find out who had just joined me behind the bar. For it only to be, the one, the only, Alex Chen. What a shocker. The one thing (person) that I'd hoped to avoid at all costs just happens to work where I work.

The shift goes on and the bar gets busier and busier as more people flow into the building. I'm surprised we haven't run out of Lager yet, got me pouring three at a time. Alex hadn't uttered a word to me, only bringing back empty glasses and occasionally pulling the odd few drinks. I wasn't sure if I should be offended or not, so I decided to just let it go.

I watch her put on her jacket and make her way to the door, "Hey, what the fuck are you doing?" I shout over the loud chatter of prominently old men.

"Shift's over."

"It's jammed in here, can't you stay a little while longer?" I request, sounding too needy and desperate for my own liking.

Alex rolls her eyes in response and walks annoyedly back over to the bar, this time she'd every so often bear to even speak a couple of words to me, whether it's "Pass those." or "Hurry it up." It's still progress, not like I needed it nor wanted it.

A few hours later and it's getting close to close, Jed lets us know that we're all going home for the night. As we're saying our goodbyes, Alex finally breaks the silence.

"So, you work here now?" She asks eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Yes, I started today," I answer, not really knowing what else to say.

"Why are you here?" She continues, her voice laced with a tone I couldn't quite distinguish.

"My own reasons."

"Just tell me did you know I was here?" She bites, her voice laced with poison as she spat it right into my face.

"God! Everything is not about you, if anything I came here to get over you." I snap back, her face dropping as soon as I responded.

Maybe I shouldn't have told her that, she probably still thinks I have feelings for her, which I do not. I do not. But what if she still has feelings for me? Oh God Y/n, get your mind out of the gutter.

She just looks at me for a moment, seeming to contemplate what to say next. In the end, she simply turns on her heel but before she could walk away I take hold on to her wrist. She doesn't look shocked, she actually looked like she knew I was going to do it. And that fucking annoys me.

"So?" I let go of her wrist, crossing my arms.

"So what?"

"Don't play dumb, Chen. No explanation? You left me, no reason as to why." My voice on the verge of breaking due to the tears I try to hold back.

"It's not that simple, Y/n."

"Oh? So how simple is it then, Alex? I did nothing to you, I loved to until my heart could take it no longer, and even then I continued. Was it one-sided? Did you get bored? Please, just give me a clue." I utter, a waterfall of tears threatening to pour from my eyes.

"You were going to leave me, Y/n! So, I had to leave you before you would do it to me!" She admits, taking me back quite a bit, silencing any words that were ready to pass over my lips. She plays with her sleeves, looking as though she regrets what she'd just confessed. The sight brought a hint of sadness to me, she looks so vulnerable and fragile.

"I would've never fucking left you, Alex. What could've possibly made you think that?"

"I could feel it, I had my suspicions and I was scared, so I did it before I got hurt. I won't have another person leave me. I knew I'd never stop loving you, so I left while uncertain."

Deep down I know that I too would never stop loving her, and how true that is right at this moment.

"Did you ever stop?" I ask, my voice shaky and broken.

"No."

The silence fell upon us again, this time it was heavier, more weighted. It felt like the air had been cut off and we were both struggling to breathe.

"Me neither." I finally whisper, my voice trembling.

And with that, we hugged each other tightly, letting our tears soak into each other's clothes. We held on to each other as if our lives depended on it because, in a way, they did.

[okunainoneko]

A Disability Ramble

I’m writing this after struggling mightily to get under the covers and onto a heating pad. My Christmas present to myself will be a full-length heating pad and a new pair of compression gloves. The evidence is stacking up to support the theory that my unbearable joint pain is autoimmune. I’ve had it for years and written it off as part of my hEDS, but I don’t think that’s all that’s going on anymore. What’s happening to me (yes, more than “just” joint pain) matches up to what I’m reading both in medical and nonprofit literature about rheumatoid arthritis and anecdotal accounts. I have a bunch of risk factors, too, including a strong immediate family history of autoimmune disease. 

But I’m terrified to even try to get answers. Getting my hEDS diagnosis was a nightmare. Doctor after doctor dismissed everything I said. Openly laughed or rolled their eyes. Flat out lied, claiming there was no condition on Earth that could cause [X symptoms at the same time]. Told me I obviously had OCD (I do not). Anxiety (again, no). It was so demoralizing and humiliating and exhausting. And expensive. Years of dead-end specialist appointments, lab and imaging results no one even looked at, all resulting in crushing medical debt that is still ruining my credit to this day. I don’t like to label things as “traumatic,” because I think that word is bandied about way too much right now, but...it was. And it continues to be. My current PCP doesn’t believe that I have dysautonomia, despite my failing a tilt test before she met me, so she randomly “forgets” to authorize refills for my beta blocker...

I haven’t been able to access any interventions for my hEDS. No doctor, including the one who ultimately diagnosed me, has been willing to prescribe anything. PT, OT, braces, nothing. When Mobic and Toradol proved ineffective for pain management, that was it. If those didn’t work, I was clearly faking. The only thing I’ve ever been treated for was one of my three herniated discs. I’ve had two surgeries to correct it, but Medicaid denied any treatment beyond PT (ineffective) for the other two, so I can walk again, but everyday activities and my job (which is very ambulatory) are still agonizing for my spine alone. So while there are management and progression-arresting options for RA, if that’s in fact what I have, I don’t really have any hope that I’ll be offered any of them. 

Or that, if I am, I’ll be able to afford them. I don’t have insurance right now (currently navigating the treacherous and labyrinthine process of applying for Medicaid) and if I am converted to full-time at my job and offered benefits, those benefits are notoriously terrible. Practically worse than no benefits at all. 

I want help, but I don’t want to crawl through burning hoops in a gas-filled dungeon to get it. I’m afraid that initial bloodwork won’t show undeniable signs (it didn’t for my family members) and that doctors will, in their characteristic fashion, throw up their hands and say, “I believe you think you’re in pain--maybe you should see a therapist.” I can’t take that again. I just can’t. It’s a horrible position to be in, even without introducing any demographic issues at all. I’m tired and sad just thinking about it, but then, I’m tired and sad all the time, so what’s the difference?

[aleksa-sims]

RL Simself-Story (18+)

⚠ CW: addiction, drugs ⚠

After I left the ER with Sandra & Philip, I thanked them for being there for me and told them, that I love them both. P. & S. didn’t want to let me go. They were so worried about me, but I just left. 😔

Two days later I met with Sofia. While Daniel was working, I was constantly alone in his apartment. This made me totally depressed. 🙁 I felt so lonely and useless, my thoughts were constantly tormenting me. At least I didn’t have to worry about my job. Mr. B. was very nice to me on the phone, when I told him I was sick. He said I should stay at home until I’m fine.

Daniel and I were running out of money. He never asked me or demanded it from me, even though I lived with him. I wanted to share his rent with him, I felt it was not fair to live at his expense, but Daniel never wanted to take my money. He always refused! Now after a few weeks, our financial situation has changed. We were both addicted and drugs are not cheap! We spent AT LEAST 80 Euros a day, just on drugs!! 🤦‍♀️ He doesn’t earn that much in a month, as much as we spent. In addition we went out all the time and did things together that......simply cost. When I cleaned up his apartment, I found a bill from his car insurance company. I wondered how he could afford all this? I gave my money to Daniel afterwards and he accepted it for the first time! He confessed to me, that this month could be a bit difficult. We also agreed to go back to our therapy sessions regularly, otherwise we will be kicked out of this... drug replacement therapy. But let’s see what will happen.

Back to Sofia & me. I called this guy Mike, our dealer. I had a really strong craving for that fucking drug. I couldn’t stand it anymore and had to take something. I still had some money, but I promised Daniel not to buy drugs. He didn’t want me to spend my/our last money on it. Maybe we’ll need it!? So I had to convince Mike somehow, to sell me drugs even if I couldn’t pay him. Sofia meant my plan to get free drugs from M., would fail. But I thought it was worth a try! 🤷‍♀️ I called him as usual and he came to this one place where I met him most of the time and as always, Mike was totally paranoid. I was so annoyed by his secret attitude!! If he is so scared to get caught, this is clearly the wrong profession for him!! That’s what I thought when he reacted so stupid, just because I sadi “Hi!” to him.  

Me (to Mike): What’s your fucking prob? 🤷‍♀️

Mike: You!

Me: Why? Just because I said “hi” to you before you gave me permission?🤨

Mike: Jennifer, Jennifer....  You still don’t get it! You have no idea what kind of trouble you’re going to get into, if you’re not careful! You see that guy there, with the black hoodie? Why is he staring at you? 😕 You know him? And why the fuck is he wearing a black hoodie in this heat? 🤨

Me: Uhmm...maybe he has a sun allergy? And no, I don’t know him! I mean-...not really! I saw him a few times in that one fucking club where I used to be. But he’s certainly NOT a narc!! So chill! Ok!!

Mike: And don’t call me with your own phone! I could see your number! Again!!! 🤦‍♂️ You need a phone without registration!

Me: Haha, this is a joke, right? 😄 😦 I can’t afford an extra phone just to call YOU!!

Mike: I’m saying this for your own protection! If I get caught, they’ll check my phone and if your number is registered, they got you!

Me: And?? 🤷‍♀️ 🤨 ... I’ll just say I was a friend of yours or something.

Mike: I warned you! But it’s your business!

Me: Yeah, it’s ok! I got it!....Hm, you know? 👉👈 I’m not feeling so good rn, I’m sick and a bit short of cash. 😬

Mike: Okay?....Let’s go somewhere else so we can talk more privat.

Me: But it’s ok here too.

Mike: Still, come with me! I wanna show you something.

Me: Ok! 🤷‍♀️ 🙂

Mike: Here! Some smack. Just for you! 😏

Me: But-... why is it so bright?!Kind of white. 🤔

Mike: It’s almost pure. 

Me: Nice! But I can’t pay you, M.. I’ll get my money in two weeks, then I’ll give it back to you! Promised! 😟 😳

Mike: Are you in trouble?

Me: No, I just miscalculated a bit. I don’t live with my parents anymore and....yeah. 😔 This is all kind of new to me.

Mike: I’ll give it to you, but that’s just an exception! ☝ And in return, you’ll have a drink with me. Ok?

Me: You give it to me? 😦 Seriously?.... Thanks! But..I can’t go on a date with you and I don’t drink.😬

Mike: It’s not a date! And you can drink.... water or whatever you want. I need an escort for a specific meeting, and it won’t take long, not more than an hour.

Me: Where and what kind of meeting is this? 😨

Mike: Hey, it’s not what you think! You and I are just talking and after a while you can go! I stay there.

Me: I-...Idk!?? 😟 And I have to ask my bf.

Mike: Ok! But if you come with me, your next purchase is also free. Think about it! And you really don’t have to do anything or be afraid, we would just talk.... Well, I gotta go! See you Jenn!

I don’t think I’m going to talk to Daniel about a date or meeting with Mike.🤦‍♀️ He didn’t even know I was buying drugs. I just told him I was with Sofia. Actually, he should know what this means. 😕 But he didn’t seem to mind. 🤷‍♀️.... After this awkward situation, I went with Sofia to her new apartment. And yeah, she wasn’t really happy about her current home. But at least Sofia had her own apartment, something I didn’t have. I had NOTHING! Except for troubles and worries that became more and more. 💩

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[kumeko]

A/N: For the @clotibigbang, I am once more attempting a chaptered fic. Wish me luck!

Summary: Midgar, a city full of promise, a city full of darkness. A city of humans and a city of magic. Tifa was used to straddling the line between the two worlds, whether it was as a detective by day or a bartender by night. After a fire destroyed everything she knew and loved, she now lived life just struggling to make ends meet.

At least, it was until her childhood friend Cloud stumbled back into her life once more. Now a hired hand, Cloud was colder than the boy she once knew, with no intentions of reconnecting after years apart.

Yet, when he’s pinned for a crime he didn’t commit, they have no choice but to work together as they discover just how filthy Midgar’s underbelly can get. And maybe uncover the truths of that fateful fire that tore them apart in the first place.

…

…

…

…

The Avalanche Detective Agency was a simple place with simple rules: always get your client’s payments upfront, don’t take any shady tasks, and maintain the privacy of your clients. But there was one rule above them all: don’t insult the clients.

It was also the rule that tried Barret’s temper the most. The tension was palpable inside the tiny office. On a good day, it was comical to see the giant hulk of a man sit on the small, yellow couch, the soft seats sinking underneath his weight, his dark skin contrasting against the brightly painted walls. Every part of him looked too big and awkward for the space, even if this closet of a room was the best they could both afford for their business. Even the pinstripe suit they got for cheap just barely fit his massive frame.

Today, though, he towered threateningly over their client. The petite woman sitting across from them looked like a mouse facing a tiger, though she didn’t seem aware of just how close danger loomed. Tifa smiled stiffly as she sat next to Barret, watching him from the corner of her eye in case his thin thread of sanity snapped. The telltale signs were there: the tightening of his jaw, the twitch in his eye, the way he was starting to actually swear instead of keeping swallowing the curses down.

Any minute now, he would blow.

Heaven help the suburban housewife. Her broad-brimmed hat wasn’t going to protect her. Maria’s hands clasped on her lap tightly as her eyes narrowed, her red lips forming a pout. “Are you certain she isn’t cheating? She’s been working late every day now.”

“No,” Tifa repeated for the nth time, not trusting Barret to answer anymore. To be fair, the client was testing her patience too. She could barely keep civil herself. Her right hand formed a fist and she discreetly punched the couch. “She’s merely working late.”

They’d gone over this several times already. They’d investigated this matter for months by now. No matter how many questions Maria posed, the answers wouldn’t change. You’d think she’d be happy to know her spouse was loyal.

Maria crossed her arms and looked away with a huff. Disappointment was etched clearly on her features. “If you’re certain…”

Barret twitched. His prosthetic left arm started to heat up and she prayed he wasn’t actually going to activate the alchemy stored within the artificial appendage. “Lady—”

“We are,” Tifa interrupted immediately. They couldn’t afford another hole in the office. They also couldn’t afford another suit for either of them. She was down to her last pinstripe.

“Tsk.” Maria scowled. A gloved hand reached into her purse and she pulled out a thick, manilla envelope. Sliding it across the table, she said, “I don’t believe you, but here’s your payment as promised.” She tapped it, her glare deepening. “But if I find out she’s cheating, you won’t get out of this unscathed.”

“You’re lucky to get out of this unscathed,” Barret grumbled under his breath.

They were almost out of this. Tifa elbowed Barret in the gut without dropping her smile. “We’ll keep that in mind, ma’am.”

“Good.” Maria stood up, clutching her purse tightly. With a last displeased click of her tongue, she spun on her heel and marched out of the room. Her stilettos clicked on the tiled floor angrily.

The second the door closed behind her, Tifa heard something crack next to her. It was a sound she knew all too well. She sighed. “Barret, we can’t keep buying new mugs.”

“Sorry.” He did not sound sorry in the least. “Still can’t control this new-fangled arm of mine. The strength isn’t the same as before.”

“Uh-huh.” She gave him a disbelieving look. He’d said that last time. And the time before that. It had been months since he’d upgraded the prosthetic. At this point, she was certain he was lying so he’d have an excuse handy for times like these. Still, a mug was better than a door or a face, so she let it slide.

“Crazy dame,” Barret grumbled, sweeping the shards of the mug into his hand. “It’s like she wanted her wife to cheat.”

“It’ll help her divorce settlement.” As the words left her mouth, Tifa was hit with a wave of exhaustion. Just when had she gotten so jaded? Back when they’d first started their agency, she’d been so eager to take on jobs. They’d help people, right wrongs, make the city a better place.

Now she knew better. Most of their clients were after more mundane ‘justices’ and personal gains. Affairs, lost pets, business leverages, and alternative wills—every case felt petty and she was starting to dread the small chime that rang each time the door opened. Tifa felt as grimy as their smog-polluted city, as though the lies and grudges were darkening her soul as much as the coal and gas did the sky.

“I told you we’re not doing any more of these boring cheating cases!” Barret grumbled, getting up and dropping the mug shards into the nearby bin. “Let ‘em catch their husbands. We’ve got better fish to fry.”

As much as she wanted to agree with him, they’d be out of business in a month. Reality was cruel. Tifa sighed again. Maybe she really was getting jaded. “We’ll go in the red, Barret. We can’t reject them, it’s our bread and butter.”

“Sometimes you need jam.” Barret scowled as he leaned against the wall. His foot tapped impatiently on the floor. “I want a real case.”

“You and me both, but they’re just not coming.” Tifa stretched her arms above her as she relaxed back into the plush sofa. For something they found in a second-hand shop, it was in surprisingly good shape. “Our name’s just not big enough for those yet.”

She glanced at their door. The brass letters on the glazed window still gleamed as brightly as it had a year ago, when they’d first rented the place. In all honesty, they should be proud they’d even gotten this far. When Barret first suggested the partnership three years ago, they’d worked out of closets and on the street, grinding to the bone every day to get even a single client.

Now they were in a proper office. She’d hoped that’d mean proper cases, but in the end, it was just more of the same. There were other, better places for troubled clients to go. Agencies with well known names and connections. Detectives were a dime a dozen in this town.

“We’d do a better job than those two-bit con-artists,” Barret said crossly, as though he read her mind.

She knew the incoming rant by heart. She also knew how to avoid it. Tifa pointed at the clock on the wall. “Hey, doesn’t Marlene’s school end soon?”

“Huh?” Barret glanced at the time and paled. “Shit. I’ll be late.” Without a second thought, he bounded to the coat rack and grabbed his hat and coat, slinging them off his arm. Without looking over his shoulder, he shouted, “I’ll leave closing to you!”

“Of course.” Tifa chuckled, expecting that. She waved as he disappeared through the door. “Say hi to Marlene for me.”

The door shut with a soft click. Now it was just her. The only sound in the room was the ticking clock. Tifa glanced at the picture on their desk of her, Barret, and Marlene. They were dressed in ratty suits in front of their office’s doors, all smiles as they celebrated their opening. Just looking at the four-year-old girl, it was obvious she was his adopted daughter. Seated on her father’s shoulder, she looked even tinier compared to his giant bulk. More importantly, her grey wolf ears poked out of her hat, her tail curled around her waist.

A werewolf, an orphan, and an idealist. The three of them made an odd family.

Tifa chuckled as she stood up and walked over to the window. Through the blinds, she watched as Barret dashed down the busy sidewalk, the sea of people parting to give him way. The narrow, crowded streets of their side of town were filled with all sorts of people and magical beings. Even up here, she could spot an elf and a dryad.

It had taken her a while to get accustomed to the sight. When Tifa had been younger, she’d only known the edges of magic. An ancestor of hers had excessive strength and his powers had diluted through the generations until she had a much-weakened version of his skill. It had been treated as a fairy tale, almost forgotten except for the odd bursts of strength when someone lost their temper.

And now she lived with a man with a magic arm, his werewolf daughter, and they did cases that sometimes landed them on the more enchanted side of life.

A flash of gold caught her eye and Tifa leaned closer to the window as she tried to catch sight of it again. Unfortunately, it disappeared, leaving her with only an ache in her chest at the thought of yet another childhood memory.

Cloud.

Just how long had it been since she’d last seen him?

Would she ever see him again?

-x-

The Seventh Heaven speakeasy was crowded, as usual. While it didn’t take more than a bottle of moonshine and two chairs to make a speakeasy, Seventh Heaven was big enough to accommodate a cool thirty patrons at time. Mismatched chaises and chairs littered the bar, men and women of all races mingling together like no one’s business as they shared a drink and a smile. In a place that was already breaking the law, social norms were a forgotten thing.

On a small platform, a black woman in a fur stole serenaded the audience. Her sleek blue dress sparkled in the dim light. A pale man with long black hair played the piano next to her, his fingers flying across the keys in elaborate patterns.

Tifa barely had time to listen to the song as she poured drink after drink. This had been a side job at first, more for the money than anything else. There were bills that needed to be paid and the trifling they made at the agency would have kept them in the red. Now, though, her role as a bartender had come in handy more times than she could count. There was no better place to keep an ear to the ground. Her drunk patrons were always eager to share a secret or two.

“Hiya, Tifa,” Jessie said as she slid onto a bar stool directly across from Tifa. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a practical ponytail and her business suit indicated she’d just come back from a job. Despite that, she looked as fresh as a daisy, her eyes bright and smile even brighter.

Tifa felt weary in the face of her eager informer. After standing for hours, she just didn’t have energy to do more than a smile. Pulling out a glass, she nodded her greeting and asked, “The usual?”

“Do I even have one? I ask for something different every time.” Jessie laughed, stretching her arms behind her back. From the corner of her eyes, Tifa noticed several people turn to the cheerful woman. And Jessie noticed it too, her smile turning flirtatious as scanned the room. She wouldn’t be going home tonight.

“You always have the same one after a job well done.” Tifa opened a rum bottle and poured, watching as the amber liquid ran over the ice before covering it entirely. Cracking off the top of ginger beer, she carefully filled the rest of the glass with it before topping off the drink with a lime slice.

“Aww, you know me that well?” Jessie turned her seductive smile to Tifa now and batted her eyes. There was a reason she was popular. It was hard for anyone to say no to that face. “Makes a girl feel real special.”

Tifa didn’t bother to comment. Knowing Jessie, she was only half-serious. Pushing forward the glass, she changed the topic. “Thanks for the help.”

“It was an easy job,” Jessie scoffed, her hand delicately curling around the glass. “Stalking someone is child’s play. Give us a harder one next time.”

“Only if we get one…” Tifa bit back a sigh, remembering her day so far.

Jessie hummed as she took a sip. Licking her lips, she gave her approval. “Good as ever. You sure you don’t want to just stick to bartending? I know a place you can make big bucks.”

Tifa snorted. How many times had she heard this offer? Clearly, Jessie was getting a cut from the place. She shook her head as she pulled out another glass for the next clamoring customer. “I’m not in it for the money.”

Her companion scoffed, “With the way you run your agency? That’s obvious.”

She flinched, unable to deny it. It was the roaring twenties and it seemed like all businesses were booming but theirs. “We’re getting better.”

“Uh-huh.” Jessie shot her a disbelieving look. Her eyes narrowed. “Barret scared away another customer, right?”

Tifa almost dropped the glass. “How’d you—”

“You look like you’re under a cloud.” Jessie grinned, tapping her glass with a finger. “You’re not the only observant one here.”

She bit her lip. And here she thought she’d been hiding it. Weakly, Tifa defended her partner, “He barely held it in.”

Jessie pouted and took another sip. “Awww, too bad. Guess I owe Biggs a buck.”

“You really shouldn’t be betting on this.” Rerunning Jessie’s words through her mind, Tifa scowled. “And you really shouldn’t be betting that we’ll lose a customer! It’s not good for you either.”

Shrugging, Jessie rolled the glass between her hands. “So, you got a new job for us?”

Tifa stiffened. Embarrassed, she rubbed her neck. “That…not yet.”

“Darn.” Jessie downed the rest of her glass and licked her lips. Setting down her glass with a soft clink, she smiled predatorily. “Guess I’ll just have to find some fun for tonight then.”

The woman looked like a panther on the prowl. Tifa never fully understood how Biggs’ and Jessie’s open relationship worked, only that it did. “Just be careful.”

Jessie grinned. “Aren’t I always?”

It’s Tifa’s turn to snort. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

Mildly offended, Jessie scanned the various tables and seats. “Does it look like—oh, is that the Don’s new man?”

“New man?” Tifa leaned forward, trying to see whoever Jessie spotted. While she was used to cigar smoke trails in the air, it sometimes made it hard to see faces, especially those further away. “I didn’t hear anything about that.”

“You gotta keep your ears open.” Jessie leaned back against the bar. Her voice lowered slightly. “The Don hired a merc a few weeks ago. Said it’s to ‘beef up his security during the election’, but he’s probably just paranoid a rival gang’s gonna snuff him out.”

Tifa shuddered. Nothing good came out news with the Don. He was infamous in Midgar, his hand in almost every black market in the city. Brothels, speakeasies, drugs, and more—you named it, he had business in it. Despite his sleazy appearance, he was good at his job and the cops were either in his bankroll or unable to gather evidence against him. “He isn’t even running for the election.”

“Does it matter if he did?” Jessie asked bluntly, shrugging her shoulders lazily. “Shinra’s gonna win the re-election anyways. Bet he’ll stuff the ballots.”

Tifa curled her hand into a fist. Despite how well known the corruption was, it was impossible to do anything about it. “He might not win.”

Her words sounded weak to her own ears.

“He will.” Jessie rolled her wrist, unphased by it all. She’d lived in this town longer than Tifa had; maybe at some point, Tifa would get used to it too. “He’s got plans for our side of town. No way he’s gonna let anyone stop him.”

It was a depressing thought. Tifa couldn’t shake it off. “So, the merc he hired—is he any good?”

Jessie jumped for the topic change. “I don’t know, but he sure does look the part. He uses a gun blade that looks really customized. Wedge and Biggs just want to run their hands on it. Me, on the other hand…” Jessie smirked wickedly as she trailed off. “He’s hot and runs cold. A real challenge.”

Rolling her eyes, Tifa flicked Jessie’s arm. One day, her flirting would get her into real trouble. “He’s dangerous.”

“So he’s a bigger challenge.” Jessie rubbed her skin. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite off more than I can chew.”

Tifa derided the very idea and rolled her eyes. “Tell that to Biggs and Wedge. What was that guy’s name, the one you—”

“Hey, that was one time!” Jessie whined, glaring at Tifa. “You’re never going to let that go.”

“It was twice, and no, never letting you forget that.” Tifa suddenly felt a brief pang of pity for her father and her teachers. She’d been a brat as a kid. This felt like karma.

Jessie grimaced. “Fine. Twice. It won’t happen a third time.” Straightening up, Jessie fluffed her hair slightly. “I think I know how to entice him.”

“Where is he?” Tifa squinted as she peered across the room. She could salvage today with at least one useful piece of information. It was always good to know the Don’s movements and men.

Jessie gently tapped Tifa’s chin to the left. “Right there, the blonde fellow.”

Just as she said those words, Tifa’s eyes landed on a familiar shade of gold. Slouched on a seat, a man with spiky hair lifted his head as though hearing them. Bright, electric blue eyes met hers and Tifa almost dropped the bottle in her hands.

Cloud.