#scraping at the empty plates and the bottom of the trash can

[dogwittaablog]

[cryptidsofwakemoor]

Chapter 6 - Now and Den

On his way back to his hiding spot, Matchstick encounters the Silver Fang once more, in the process of building a new den for itself. However, a surprise is waiting for him when he gets back to his own.

Is it... normal for giant forest cryptids to feel sorry for you?

~*~

Mystic

Running back into the woods, he’s a lot more lucid this time around. The wonders that fresh(ish) water and food could do! He can even see faint scorch marks where his hands had dug into the earth whenever he tripped and dragged himself up again, singeing it from the stress. That was no good- obvious tracks. A few kicks at the soil was enough to erase the evidence.

While jogging, it occurred to him that his hidey-hole might not be safe and secure anymore. The former occupant had returned. Clearly they made the original den. Granted, they left him there and didn’t aggress, but was it worth the risk to piss off a big creature for a hole in the ground?

-and before he could reach the spot he’d marked (with a subtle singe mark on a tree bough), his travails through the woods are interrupted by the sight of a big silver tail, sticking out of the earth and draping over the ground. Every now and then, big puffs of dirt are thrown out into the air behind it, forming a pile of turned earth past the stocky silver-shingled legs.

Shit. This thing was still here. And it was- digging? This wasn’t the spot where he’d found the hole. Was it making a new one?

Spooky

Whatever it was hadn't seemed interested in eating him, but he was still hesitant to get too close. If it was making a new hole, maybe it truly had abandoned the other one after finding him in it... but who the hell knows, it wasn't like he could ask.

Nervously biting his lip, he did his best to move stealthily behind the trees, past where the huge creature was snuffling and burrowing. He probably didn't have to worry about making noise so much, since it seemed pretty busy and its head was literally underground at the moment, but he still crept as quietly as he could... and then took off running towards his hiding spot once he felt he was far enough past that point.

Man, he was gonna need to plan out another route to that house if he didn't wanna keep running into that thing...

But that was a problem for future him.

For now, it was back to his- ...giant... very conspicuous pile of discarded food trash that wasn't there earlier.

He slowed to a stop and just stared at it. Holy shit, had he really eaten that much food since hiding out there? Didn't feel like there was nearly that much trash in there, but it was also dark so it was not like he could tell. The tunnel had some freshly scraped up earth at the bottom of it, and the same went for the inside floor of the den. All empty now, save for big sweeping claw marks that were a dead giveaway as to which giant silver armor-plated creature had done this.

....But why, though?!

Mystic

No answers were forthcoming from the trash pile, which was his only company. Maybe it was just meticulous about keeping clean burrows. Hopefully that didn’t mean it was coming back.

…and now that it was in isolation, and he’d had a good face washing while guzzling down that pond water, boy did it stink. He’d been sleeping in that. He must smell awful.

scrnkkkkk

Oh wow, THAT was a loud noise. Some sort of- dirt grinding sound? It was coming from back the way he came, where the creature was digging.

shfff shf-shf

Leaves rustling. Or being removed.

What in the hell was it-

thnk thd thshf

Fuck, it was coming back!

Spooky

He was about to go back in the hole for a second, but stopped himself, realizing he'd just be trapped in there again, and instead he ducked behind the small mountain of trash. He quickly regretted that choice when the smell hit him even more strongly, and he backed up with a grimace not unlike the one the creature had made when sniffing him earlier.

As the creature came into view, he panicked, looked around, and scurried behind the nearest tree instead, still not really realizing that his eyes were still cartoonishly visible as he peeked out from behind it. He kept forgetting that little detail...

Mystic

Soon enough, the creature returns from the other clearing where it had been digging the second hole. It walks with a strange gait that felt almost- awkward? The front claws were held up off the ground, as it stepped with the slouched posture of an eighty-year-old. In those strange paws it clutched a small, lightly dirty set of plastic bags- one empty, and the other bulging with unknown contents. The head swiveled back and forth, making a half-hearted check of the area, before it takes hesitant steps once again. It didn’t appear to notice him yet.

Satisfied, it slunk back towards the hole in the ground. Making a low rumble in its throat, it peeks into the hole. Seeing nothing, it backs up, and drops the bag containing things unknowable right at the hole entrance. With the remaining empty bag, it turns toward the trash pile. Turns out he made a good judgement call, as the silver beast lays out the plastic- and begins shoveling it with its massive clawed paws onto the plastic sheet. They definitely weren’t enjoying this, as their muzzle scrunches up in disgust once again. Oh yeah, he definitely smelled like garbage if it made that face at him.

Upon scooping all trash remnants into a pile, it then sits on its haunches, and begins the delicate process of pulling the corners of the bag up to cinch it closed… odd. That was a very human gesture for a distinctly non-human beast to do. Regardless, it struggles, grunting in annoyance any time its claws pierce the bag.

All finished, it picks up the freshly wrapped garbage, turns to leave-

-and stops dead in its tracks, making eye contact with him.

Spooky

It didn't help he'd leaned out further, trying to get a good look at what it was doing. Seeing it work so meticulously with giant claws was quite a sight... Though he wasn't entirely sure what it was doing with all that trash. The closest comparison he could make was whenever he caught a glimpse of those humans with those big plastic buckets, pulling similar bags out of the smaller buckets around the lab and gathering them up to wheel them away to... somewhere.

He watched it heft up the huge bag and start to carry it off- did it want the trash for some reason?- but he realized too late as it stopped and stared right at him that he wasn't being as stealthy as he thought he was. He looked back up at it nervously, eyes blown wide and his mouth drawn into a tight line as he slowly tried to move back behind the tree. Like that would actually work.

Mystic

As he ducks back into hiding, the thing takes slow steps of its own in retreat. The plastic bag of garbage fumbles in its grip- amazing it even managed to hold it to begin with- and it drops with a clatter of junk.

It glances from the garbage bag, to him, then back to the other bag it left behind, then to him again. Then back to the unknown bag on the ground.

In a swift movement, it ducks its head down behind the second bag, and extends its neck to push the bag across the grassy earth in his direction. The very next moment, it quickly grabs the garbage bag- in its mouth, this time, revealing a jaw full of sharp teeth. Dropping down to all four limbs, it pivots, and takes off at a swift sprint back the way it came. Branches crunch and leaves rustle in its wake, before it vanishes completely from hearing and sight.

Spooky

He watched it trundle off into the woods, his mouth slightly agape, before he looked at the bag it left behind.

So... it was leaving something for him? This giant creature was trying to give him something. Was that... a normal thing for forest creatures to do? ...Man, he didn't know shit about wild animals, but that didn't seem like something that was supposed to happen??

He really wasn't used to being given something at all, let alone from a huge beast that looked like it could eat him. Especially with a mouth fulla sharp teeth like that... He poked at his own teeth with his tongue. He had some sharp ones too, and he'd put them to use easily enough in opening some of those metal liquefied food cylinders that he found in that big building with the locked food boxes behind it, but... They still weren't nearly big and sharp as those.

...

Oh right, bag.

Well, only one way to find out what was in it... He knelt down next to it and opened it up.

Mystic

Opening the plastic bag proved to be less of a challenge than anticipated. The moment he gave it any kind of slack, the opening was practically forced open from the inside, as something that had been compressed within is given release. A plush square of linen pops out, filled with some sort of soft stuffing. It squishes pleasingly under his touch.

Underneath the small explosion of pillow softness was a pile of more fabrics- thicker, and stitched together in patterns. Pulling it free revealed that it was a very wide rectangle of this cloth, and also soft to the touch.

It left him soft things, and took the pile of trash with it. Huh.

He had lost his previous nesting material, but...

Spooky

These seemed like a pretty good trade!

It was almost fascinating how soft this material was. And squishy. He gave the plush square a few more pokes, before pressing his whole hand into it. Removing his hand, though, he was surprised to see it kind of expand back into the shape it was in before. Guess that was how it fit in the bag...

This was... kind of exciting, really! He could only just barely remember something like this at the lab, from way back when he was still small… A semi-soft rectangle that he used to sleep on, at least before he outgrew it. It had been so long that he’d almost completely forgotten…

Aware that he was still in the open, though, he quickly scooped up the materials- along with the bag, figuring it might be useful for carrying things later even if he couldn't quite fit the soft stuff back in it- and squirreled them away into the den.

It still smelled a little bad down there, but probably not as much as before... But whatever, it was safe. He plopped down with the soft material, letting it fall in his lap. The big cloth wasn't as squishy as the square was, but it felt nice to run his hands over. It also made his legs feel warm beneath its cover, or at least kept away the subterranean chill. Mostly though, he loved this squishy thing. He was quick to pick it back up and smoosh his face into it. It made him feel a little silly, and a rare smile quirked up at the corners of his mouth as he let out a small, raspy chuff of a laugh.

Pulling it away from his face, he wrapped his arms around it and squeezed it against his chest, resting his chin on top of it with a relaxed sigh. This felt nice...

Mystic

There was no mistaking it- that big silver thing definitely left these for him, as some sort of present. Something to replace the trash pile as far more suitable bedding. Why, he could only guess. Perhaps it was taking pity on him, after seeing its old den filled with trash and a teenager that stank of rotten food.

...he's sunk quite low, for a forest creature- questionable intelligence notwithstanding- to take pity on him.

But then, was it truly wild? It behaved in much the same way that a human from the town would. There were mannerisms in its behavior that were far more sentient than a simple animal.

A full meal, thirst quenched, and soft squishy things acquired for his safety den. For once, he felt satisfied, and... safe.

Spooky

Wild forest creature or not... Whatever that huge beast was, it seemed better than people. Way nicer, anyway. He remembered all the false promises of 'helping him' he was fed back in the lab, when they only ever seemed to hurt him instead. Even if the big silver thing was only helping him because it felt bad for him, at least this felt like actual help.

It gave him a lot to think about, but after spending a good chunk of his waking moments today feeling like he was gonna die, only to end up snuggling up in soft materials with his stomach finally feeling sated for the time being... Yeah, a lot had happened, and needless to say, he was feeling pretty tired...

Still sitting with his back against the wall, he pulled the blankets up around himself and curled up around the pillow, finally feeling safe enough to get some much needed rest.

~*~

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New reader? You can start here!

[dynamichousecleaning]

How to clean your house like professionals

If you only have two hours to clean your house, you should get a mop, bucket, sponges, dusters, floor cleaner, all-purpose cleaner, and other cleaning tools. Bring a bucket with you and put them in it when you're done.

So, you won't have to go back and forth to get cleaning supplies. This will save you time and energy.

1. The best way to clean is by going from task to task instead of room to room.

The best way to clean is from top to bottom and back to front. Use this method to clean up any dust or dirt that falls from the roof or the back.

2. Do you know where to start when you need to clean your dirty house?

The best place to start is by getting rid of any clutter, like books, computers, toys, etc.

The picture of the area that needs to be cleaned helps you finish the job faster and better.

If you want to get the most out of your cleaning money, it's best to use a deep cleaning product on the toughest stains first. For these things to work, they need time. After that, you can start using the goods in the bathroom.

3. The first step is to use products made for cleaning.

After getting rid of the clutter, use various cleaning products to ensure the space is clean.

Most of the time, deep cleaning is needed in the following places:

1. The seat on the toilet.

2. Bathroom and kitchen sinks

Either the tub or the shower.

Wear rubber gloves because you will be working with things that could hurt you.

The chemicals you use will need time to break down and remove any stains.

After about 20 to 30 minutes, you should be able to wipe off any stains without using a stiff brush to scrape them off. Let some liquid laundry bleach sit in the water for a few minutes before draining and cleaning the sink to get rid of any stubborn stains.

4. Use a vacuum to clean

Remove dust from furniture, lamps, and other things before you vacuum so that the chemicals in the cleaning products don't soak up the stains. Get rid of things you don't need and clean your furniture and electronics carefully. After dusting, it's a good idea to vacuum the main parts of your home.

First, you should vacuum your furniture, and then you should vacuum your floors. Next, vacuum the hard-to-reach places, like the bottoms of chairs, tables, and sofas.

5. Give your kitchen a thorough cleaning.

Before cleaning the kitchen, you should do the dishes and put them away in the cabinet. Then, you can put dirty dishes in a dishwasher while you clean the rest of the kitchen.

You can also clean your kitchen sink and counter with an all-purpose cleaner.

Wipe the shelves down with a damp cloth to get rid of anything that has gone bad. Sticky or dirty shelves can be cleaned with a light soap or detergent.

If the drawers are dirty, you should wash them, too.

The plate can be removed from the microwave and washed in warm water with a bit of dish soap or detergent. Finally, wipe the surface with a damp cloth to eliminate any last bits of dirt.

6. The floors need to be mopped.

After dusting and cleaning, the last step is to mop the floors. How you mop will depend on the type of floor, you have. How much water to use and whether or not to use other liquids, like vinegar, depends on the type of wood you're working with.

Don't forget to clean the floor in the bathroom as well. By doing these things at the end of the cleaning process, you can avoid having wet floors in other rooms, which can be dangerous.

7. Get rid of the trash.

Now is the time to get rid of all the trash you have in your trash can. When you're done, you should empty all of your trash cans and garbage cans and put them in new bags.

Use three trash bags to protect your trash cans even more.

Once you've lined the bins, you won't have to worry about doing it again every time.

8. Wipe the windows down

Cleaning the windows is one of the things that takes the most time, but it is also one of the easiest things to do. Just use a bottle of window cleaner to spray each window and a paper towel to wipe it down.

9. Clean the walls and roof.

Cleaning is about a lot more than just floors and furniture.

Take care of your walls and ceiling as well. Or you can contact Professional Cleaning Services Santa Cruz.

You can get rid of dust with a microfiber mop and stains with warm water and cleaning chemicals. You can wear an old T-shirt instead of a mop if you don't have one.

[ddarker-dreams]

May This Be Love. Fugo x F Reader [COMM]

Warnings: Tooth Rotting Fluff, very slight yandere themes (?) (Fugo idolizes Reader/and is kinda possessive), none other than tbh . Word count: 3.5k.

Fugo checks his watch for the fifth time in the past five minutes.

The caffè’s doors chime, and he lifts his head, seeking out one particular face in the crowd. When he doesn’t see the pair of eyes he wants staring back at him, his attention drops downward. Beneath the table, he taps his feet, stopping just short of applying enough strength so that the nearby customers don’t hear the succinct staccato.

He scrunches up his sleeve cuffs to check the time yet again. 2:06, the ticking hands read.

His stomach grumbles, basic biological function doing its part to sabotage him. A tempting slice of strawberry shortcake makes its silent appeal to him. A waitress had come by half an hour prior, politely asking if he would like to order yet. Burdened by a reverie for what was to come, Fugo stumbled out an order. It was only when the plate clicked onto the wooden table that he realized his mistake.

Would you think it rude that he ordered without you? Or, worse, would you put two and two together to deduce he’s been here way in advance? Troubled by these thoughts, he opted not to touch the cake, much to the chagrin of his empty stomach. It’s not his fault he hasn’t had an appetite all day. God, he wishes he did. All that he’s got in his system is two shots of espresso to treat a night of restless sleep. Caffeine was both a blessing and a curse, in this instance. It gave him a much-needed energy boost for the day ahead, yet further set his frayed nerves aflame.

The bell rings again.

It still isn’t you.

Sighing, he takes the juiciest strawberry from atop the cake slice and bites in. Surely you wouldn’t notice such an insignificant detail missing, not if he smooths the layer of icing out where it once sat… he almost groans aloud at his thoughts. This is misery — this is torture. No working of Dante Alighieri's imagination could conjure such a visceral punishment as this.

Once more, the bell sounds.

This time, Fugo doesn’t bother fixing his gaze upon the door, not wanting to face disappointment for the umpteenth time. What was that English saying? Fool me once, shame on you? Fool me twice, shame on me? Something like that, he thinks. To any perceptive onlooker, he must look foolish. Perhaps he’s started to earn their sympathies. He can imagine it now: the elderly couple sitting at the adjacent table whispering poor thing, waiting for a date that won’t show. Or the high school students meeting at the counter stifling their laughs and placing bets at his expense.

“Panni!”

Oh, great, now he’s even hallucinating your voice. He has got to see a psychiatrist one of these days.

Huh, now wait a second. The person standing in front of him looks suspiciously like you. She has the same sweet smile, hair, and even her eye’s pigmentation is similar. Right down to the twinkle he’s written sappy poems about that later make a home in the bottom of his trash can after he realizes how pathetic he’s being.

A hand waves in front of his face.

“Pssst, Earth to Panni, come in.”

Fugo blinks. Why would someone be waving their hand in front of him? Are proper manners a thing of the past? His eyes refocus on the figure standing before him, blurred shapeless colors coming together to form a sharper image.

That’s you. You’re finally here.

With all the grace of a newborn fawn, he stands, his chair scraping against the ground and producing an unholy noise. Luckily, no one seems to hear over the sounds of brewing coffee and silverware scraping against plates. He thinks he might choke when he finally gets a good look at you, the tie around his neck feeling noticeably tighter.

You stand before him in all your glory, lips pink and glossy, wearing a pale yellow sundress with floral patterns. There’s something shiny on your cheekbones, too — highlighter, he thinks it’s called — adding an ethereal glow to your skin so bright he thinks he might need to look away or risk being blinded. And that pleasant perfume has got to be criminal. He’s familiar with it, having bought it for your past few birthdays. He purchased a smaller vial for himself, an admittance he’s not proud of. On his worst nights, he’d spritz the heavenly aroma upon his pillow, holding it to his chest and inhaling deeply; pretending that it was you within his grasp.

You are so… so beautiful, so enchanting, boasting an allure that’d put Botticelli’s Venus to shame. Say it, Fugo, he tells himself. Come on, compliment her already. Stop being a coward.

“Ah, [First], I apologize for that,” he loosens his tie. “Wow… you look…”

In his peripherals, he notes a few figures whose heads have turned to follow you. Frustration thrums to life like an engine after the ignition’s been turned. That’s all it takes for him to almost lose his cool — some strangers whose eyes rake over you longer than he’d prefer. Deep within, tucked in a place he wishes would just disappear already, Purple Haze voices its displeasure. His Stand represents an ugly side of himself he’s been working hard to overcome.

It’s for this reason, that he takes a deep breath, mentally pushing Purple Haze down into the abyssal depths. Nothing is going to ruin this date for him.

“Good. I mean, ahem, really good. Is that— is that a new dress?”

Remembering his manners, he pulls out your chair. You sit your purse aside then take your seat across from him. While he wasn’t able to shower you with as many compliments as he would’ve preferred, this is a step in the right direction. At least the words didn’t get caught in his throat as he feared.

“It is, actually,” you confirm. “I went shopping with Trish the last time she was in town and picked this up. Forty percent off, can you believe that? That’s why I buy winter clothes in the summer and summer clothes in the winter. You can’t beat the prices.”

Fugo can’t help but chuckle into his hand. Many moons ago, when you were both teenagers, it was necessary to count your change and scour magazines for coupons. Not so much now, with the substantial increase in salary Passione offered. Old habits die hard, he guesses. He can practically imagine Trish coercing you into buying something more expensive, while you remain adamant about hovering around the clearance aisle.

He’s always appreciated that fiery side of you. It caused you both to butt heads while your prefrontal cortexes were still in development, but those are memories he looks back on fondly now. It’s just one of the many things he loves about…

“Your order, miss?”

The waitress from earlier makes her appearance, interrupting his train of thought, much to his relief. You put in your request — a slice of tiramisu, no drink, which he found odd — then your attention is back on him. The sun itself must be working in tandem with you, streams of light flowing through and basking you in radiance. He was never a strong believer in the Catholic faith, but by god, if you told him you were a saint, he’d believe it.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long. I thought traffic wouldn’t be so bad this time of the day and kinda forgot tourists are a thing. Listen, if there’s ever legislation proposed to ban those abhorrent tourist buses, just know I’m going to enter the political process. I’ll hand out petitions and everything.”

Fugo’s lips quirk upward. “Tourists are good for business, you know. The steady increase in revenue benefits the city greatly.”

“Entering treasurer mode, are you, Signore Fugo?” You tease, to which he huffs. Honestly, you need to be more careful with what you say in public, but he’s never had the heart to chastise you. Not when he’s wound so tightly around your finger. “But really, I’m sorry for being late.”

He waves it off, not wanting to linger on that aspect any longer. The miserable few minutes he spent wondering if your date was a practical joke he wasn’t in on are now, gratefully, a thing of the past. You’re here and so is he. There may have been some stressors along the way, but he’s hellbent on making the most of the time you’ve given him.

Your tiramisu is brought over not long after. Unlike him, you’re quick to dig in, a content hum leaving your lips after taking a bite. In doing so, you lean closer over the table. Consequently, Fugo is treated to a clear view of your cleavage, and he swears his mind temporarily shut down. It takes every ounce of his strength for his gaze not to linger. He still ends up crossing his legs to be on the safe side.

This dizzying effect you had on him… it had to be dangerous. Beguiling woman, he thinks. He’s convinced that if you asked him, he’d be willing to tear his heart from his chest and present it without hesitation. If only he knew how to verbalize an ounce of his adoration. What manages to seep through the cracks pales in comparison to what he really feels. Plank by plank, he built a dam so his reverence would remain concealed, yet you took it upon yourself to tear it down.

“Have you been getting enough sleep, Panni?” You query, eyebrows arching together in worry.

Not at all, he thinks. How could he sleep when he knew his date with you was rapidly approaching?

“I try to,” is the answer he decides to go with, finding it honest enough. “Sleep is… well, picky about when it wants to go well. It’s nothing to concern yourself over.”

Having experienced your compassion too many times to count, he doubts that last addition will sway you, an assumption that’s quickly proven correct.

“I could always stay the night over at your place. Y’know, drink some wine, play some board games — relaxing stuff. There are candles that help you sleep, too! We could try that, or maybe…”

You continue brainstorming aloud, but Fugo is so enraptured by the boldness of your first sentence to follow the rest. He has to squeeze his jaw shut to keep it from dropping.

Stay the night. At his place. Stay the night. You. In his apartment. Holy shit. He needs to get his head out of the gutter before it becomes permanently wedged there. Were you unaware of how that came off, when spoken to a man? Did you view him as a man? The thought troubles him, and he worries over his knuckles, ruminating despite his best efforts not to. You must see some romantic potential in him, having accepted his date offer. He did make an active effort to call it a date, so it can’t be an issue of miscommunication.

“... I hear the changing of seasons can impact sleep, too. Have you tried taking allergy medicine?”

“I’ll, um, I’ll give it a shot.”

That came out lamer than he intended. He balls his hands into fists atop his lap, finding that he loathes the sound of his own voice. Usually, it isn’t this difficult to speak with you. You’re one of the few individuals he feels most comfortable with. It’s the situation that’s troubling him so. You must have different expectations of him now, expectations that he doesn’t know if he can live up to.

Can he be a partner worthy of you as he is now?

This is the question that haunts his subconscious at night when he’s alone with his thoughts. At some point, he decided he just needs to act, while he still can. You’re growing more beautiful by the day — it’s an honest-to-goodness miracle that you’ve remained single. He can’t keep biding his time. If he does, he might regret it for the rest of his life.

Today is the day he’ll tell you. It has to be.

The rest of the lunch is relatively uneventful. You inform him about the latest developments in your life, ask for his thoughts on a book you recently lent him, and pester him to take more time off of work. While not entirely at peace, Fugo manages to keep up without embarrassing himself. He grows increasingly convinced that you’re an angel incarnate. The way you craft a comfortable atmosphere that even a bundle of nerves like himself can somewhat relax is impressive.

The check arrives (which he whisks away before you can, to which you snap your fingers in faux disappointment), and you’re both on your merry way. Fugo purposefully walks to shield you from the men who had been leering earlier, shooting them the nastiest glare when you’re not looking. He holds the door open, wishes the jingling doorbell goodbye, parting ways with the sound that’d been the bane of his existence this past hour.

Passerbys swarm by in a flurry of different languages and directions. You were right about the tourists — this area was a prime location for them to congregate. A few people brush shoulders with you, too occupied with a map in their hands to watch where they’re going. Fugo is about to tell them off, and you must sense this, as you shake your head and smile sheepishly.

“It’s not a big deal, maybe his wife went into labor and he’s looking for the hospital or something,” you joke. Fugo wills his rage to subside upon hearing your wish, not wanting to make a scene. A bright gleam shines in your eyes that has him swallowing thickly. He knows that look. More specifically, he knows that look means you’re up to nothing good.

You outstretch your arm. Before he can comprehend it, you’re interlinking your fingers, the soft sensation of your hand against his sending his head to cloud nine. He can’t believe it. You’re holding his hand of your own volition. Was this a dream? He must be wearing his heart on his sleeve, as you purse your lips together and hesitate.

“Ah, was that too bold? I’m sorry if—”

You start to pull your hand back, fearing you crossed a line, only for Fugo to give a gentle squeeze.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.”

He isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince — you or himself. Really though, he couldn’t believe this is what embarrassed you, not stating in public that you’d sleep over at his place. You’re a woman of many mysteries, he decides.

“In that case, where to next, Signore?”

Fugo had made a spreadsheet for your date today for preparation’s sake. There are two main elements: getting lunch and finding a place to talk afterward. He had backups for if it rained, if his first choice of caffè was too busy; even another plan for if it was particularly windy out. Every variable had been under significant thought and scrutiny. Since the weather is agreeable, he intends to bring you to a secluded spot overlooking the Gulf of Naples.

“It’s a secret. Will you be able to keep up with me in those shoes?”

You puff your cheeks out. “Without issue, thank you very much. And a secret? C’mon, at least give me a hint.”

“I don’t want to hear any complaints. And no, don’t give me that look. It’s not going to work.”

“Blink twice if it’s— ah, Fugo, wait up!”

It doesn’t take long to reach the location Fugo had in mind, as per his meticulous planning.

It’s a public park that few know about. Due to it being within walking distance of Libeccio, Fugo had made the pilgrimage here many times, finding the spot perfect for getting a breath of fresh air when he needed time to himself. The sun is a little shy over an hour from setting, yet the benches will offer the best seats for witnessing it.

With some reluctance, he pulls his hand away (you hadn’t let go even after the crowds thinned down), then takes a seat.

You take it upon yourself to sit right next to him, thighs touching.

“I—”

“You know—”

The both of you start and stop talking all at once. Fugo clears his throat then motions for you to continue, deciding whatever you have to say takes precedence.

“Ah… in retrospect, I feel so silly. You won’t believe the things I was worrying myself over this morning,” you shake your head, sounding incredulous. “If I’m being honest, I barely caught a wink of sleep last night. I kept finding excuses to get up. Setting out different outfits, mulling over what shade of eyeshadow to use… the most inane things, really. God, I was beat when that alarm went off.”

Fugo raises an eyebrow, yet you continue on.

“Get a load of this. In my fatigued delirium, I mixed up my sour cream and cream cheese. Ended up making for an awful blueberry scone. Hands down, one of the worst things I’ve tasted.”

“I never knew you had difficulty sleeping.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Pannacotta Fugo.”

“[First] [Last]...?”

“Don’t tell me you’re this dense,” you point at him accusingly. “You? One of the smartest people I know, if not the smartest?”

He swears he feels his heart jump to his throat at the compliment. In truth, Fugo had some possible explanations for what you were saying. It was the small possibility that he might be setting himself up for disappointment that stopped him from pursuing the reason. For this reason, he keeps his lips shut, while contemplating the best course of action to take. Was this it? The opening he’s been waiting for? He hears his heartbeat in his ears as warmth envelops his trembling body.

“I treasure you deeply, Fugo. I have for the longest time. Your intellect, sharp wit, how I know I can rely on you for anything and everything… it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say I consider you my best friend. But, if, um, it’s alright with you, I think I’d like to be more than that. Ah, are you alright? P-Panni?”

Fugo furiously wipes his damp cheeks against his sleeve, weakly muttering that something got in his eye.

When he gathers the courage to look at you again, for a moment, he’s afraid of what he might see staring back at him. Would there be shame upon your visage like what he saw on his father? Shame in your eyes as there was in his mother’s? Or, even worse yet, what if you change your mind and leave him behind? He’s keenly aware of what it's like to be abandoned after your prestige fades away, dull where it once shined brightly.

There is no such expression on you.

With the hand that had been holding his earlier, you cup his face, brushing away the few tears that slipped past with your thumb.

“Would you take me as yours, Panni?”

“Would I take you?” He laughs, the sound light and fleeting, like a fresh breeze rustling blooms in spring. “I should be the one asking you that, [First]. Do you… do you know what you’re getting yourself into? I’m by no means a perfect man.”

“And I am by no means a perfect woman. Ah, I know that look, no arguing, Signore. I’m really not. That’s not what matters — what matters is that we try our best for one another, yes?”

He does truly believe it to be sacrilegious that you do not consider yourself perfect, but he knows how to pick and choose his arguments. To him, you were the closest thing to it, a being so divine he worried his sinful flesh might corrode from coming into contact with you. Fugo gazes down at you through half-lidded eyes. Shades of red paint themselves across his neck, cheeks, and ears. The softness of your lips is all he can bring himself to focus on.

“May I kiss you, [First]?”

When he was younger, he used to scoff at the romantic poets who weaved together melodramatic stanzas dedicated to their lovers. Romance had been his least favorite genre for that very reason. Living in a world of monochrome and only seeing in color when your beloved was present? Little Fugo scoffed at such silly notions (how unscientific was that)!

It was only when he began to fall for you that he realized they might have a point. Maybe two. No more than that, he reasons. 

Subconsciously, he begins to lean forward, feeling drawn to you like opposite sides of a magnet. To his chagrin, you press your pointer finger against his wanting lips. He almost growls at having been interrupted.

“Only if you answer me this,” you whisper, your warm breath fanning across his face, “How long have you wanted to?”

Out of all the difficult questions that have been posed to him in his life, this might be the easiest.

He gingerly pulls your hand aside, presses his lips against the inside of your wrist, then murmurs,

“Ever since I laid eyes on you.”

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

The Glitch

I get the Broken Reality au is a haha funny joke but there’s been some legit great art for it and since Butterfly is over and I haven’t gotten into the groove of my other projects yet, I decided to try some flash fiction of my interpretations. Note that this is very small and informal; I used whatever idea came into my head over the course of an hour or so instead of the weeks of planning that go into my usual fics. This was an experiment for fun. But if people enjoy the concept, I may be tempted to expand on it.

Credit to @lollitree @moonpaw @gentrychild​ @owlf45​ and @cyber-phobia​ (I’m sorry if I missed someone I lost track of how many people were involved in this mess).

Content working for reference to infant death.

Please enjoy!

The city shut down for a typhoon warning.  Thunder rumbled in the distance.  Dark clouds blocked the sun so much that by mid-morning it still looked like it never bothered coming up.  And yet the humidity made it too hot for coffee.  Inko didn’t know how to feel.  Work would have been a good distraction.  But she didn’t want any coworkers or clients to see if today got to be too much.  And it was already shaping up to be.  She caught herself making two plates of food for breakfast.  

Inko sat alone in the kitchen.  She couldn’t bring herself to finish her own plate.  Sickness set in fast.  The food had been cold for a long time before she summoned the strength to get up and throw it away.  Then she stood over the open trash can a while, debating whether to try and hold it together, or just throw up and get it over with.  She eventually managed to keep her stomach steady enough to go back to her bedroom.  There was another trashcan in there anyway.

A sound stopped her.  From her office.  The distinct sound of something heavy falling onto the carpet.  Right as she walked past the door.

Please not this again…

She opened the door with her eyes closed.  Her mind conjured a familiar image.  A bedroom full of books and hero posters.  Bright colors and personal touches.  A child’s room.  Inko opened her eyes to her drab home office.  Some of the older case file binders slipped off the pile again.  She really needed to sort those into storage. Not today though.  She didn’t bother to pick it up.

Inko walked faster than normal the rest of the way to her room.  She doesn’t want to face the temptation to search for old toys she remembers storing in the empty closet.  Or search the walls for scuff marks from action figures tossed into them she could always see even after the walls were painted. She hid her planner on a tall shelf and put the ladder away to make it that much harder to go through it over and over looking for doctors’ appointments and school events she knew were coming up.  Finally reaching her bed brought no comfort.

Of course she knew today’s date by heart.  She hadn’t put it on a calendar in the fourteen years since she used to look at it every day.  Inko stuck her head under her pillows, as if they could block out the silent noise of her memories.  Memories of before, the time even when she was by herself, she was never alone.

Fifteen years now, today.  With a shuddering gasp, the tears finally came.  Thunder crashed outside.  It’s not fair!  Why is it still this hard after this long?  Phantom kicks in her belly joined the growing ice there.

The hardest part was she still felt like that sometimes.  Like she wasn’t really alone.  Inko didn’t believe in ghosts, but the lost of what could have been was more than haunting enough.  She felt it watching her.  Judging her. Waiting just long enough for her to settle down into a peaceful, content existence before it reared up to plague her heart all over again.  Cliché hauntings like spooky faces in the mirror or blood coming out of the drains would have been preferable.  Those would be generic enough not to remind her directly.

Rain started outside.  Her phone lit up with a notification she ignored in time with a thunderclap.  The storm was getting closer.

Maybe I should call Hisashi, the thought crossed her mind.  Maybe he’s going through this too.  She bit her lip bloody.  Her frustrated memories weren’t in question like the others.  Probably not though.  I don’t want to talk to him anyway.

Hisashi had been stuck in the denial stage of grief, which often came off as him acting like he didn’t take hers seriously.  Not a year, not even half a year looking back, after they came home from the hospital, he wanted to try again.  

“We can’t let mourning hold us up forever,” he said.  “And it’s not like we lost a once in a lifetime opportunity!  We’ve got at least another twenty years to keep trying!”

But we did lose him! she had wanted to scream.  Still did, years later.  Why didn’t he understand?  He was your loss too!  Inko wanted for the next roll of thunder, then shouted.  

“I don’t just want any baby!  I want Izuku!”

The lights went out.  The temperature rose five degrees instantly when the ceiling fan stopped going.  The rain stopped.

Power outage.  Inko sat up with a sniffle.  Turns out the notification was a warning about roving blackouts.  Of course.  Oh well. I wasn’t really in the mood to cook tonight any-

Thunder boomed even louder than before, making her jump.  Then another.  Lightning flashed outside at the same time.  It was right on top of her.

What?  I thought the typhoon wasn’t supposed to make landfall until later toni-

Another crash.  It vibrated through her bones.  Then another. The lightning lit up her whole room. Except for a shadow on the wall. Inko jolted to look, holding her breath, and found only her own shadow in the next flash.

“I’m such an idiot…”  She went for her phone again.  For peace of mind, she decided to use her data to check if an evacuation order went out. Or any updates at all really, since the weather came so much faster than the news said.  “Nothing,” she sighed annoyed.  “I hate being alone for weather like this…”

A new notification pinged.

[Mom]

Inko blinked rapidly.  The message remained.  All of her insides turned inside out in an instant, and she started crying again. Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke? No one ever got a chance to call her that.  She touched the note to open it, but nothing happened.  No app or source was displayed.  Nor did it go away after a few seconds like normal.  

“Wha- What’s going on?” she wept.  In a mix of sorrow and rage, she wound up to chunk the device across the room.  But she froze.

Outside her window, floating against the pitch-black sky, were two small orbs.  Perfectly circular and glowing.  Watching her. She didn’t dare move.  

Another ping.  She looked without moving.

[I’m sorry]

“…  What?”

For a moment, all the sounds in the world dropped out.  They all came back at ounce.

Lights flickered.  Both the ones inside and the lightning going outside.  Multiple strikes laid on top of one another.  No relief.  Thunder pounded over and over like a drum solo.  It shook the whole building.  Inko ran into the closet away from the window.  She slammed her hands over her eyes but it didn’t help.  Her terrified cried were whispers to the screams of the storm.

A child’s scream.  She heard it. Each flash of light came with a cry. The distinct sound of a little boy calling out in pain blended with unyielding nature.  It came from every direction.  Every hair on Inko’s arms stood up in fear.  She felt the charge in the air.  But she had to go out.  Her baby was crying for help.

She burst from the closet into the living room.  All the lights and appliances turned themselves on and off.  The TV showed only static between its flashes. Something drew her too it.  The storm was deafening.  It pounded through her head like a heartbeat.  The beats got faster.  The static flashes started to look like a face.  Her usual caution was abandoned as she fell to her knees and touched the screen.  The snow cleared for a single instant.  Just long enough to look like the blank eyes from the window.  She felt the heartbeat there too.

Then it stopped.  All of it. The noise and lights all went quiet and dark.  The TV went completely cold in an instant.  Inko, stunned, palmed over it looking for something.  Anything.  The pulse. Warmth.  A burnt fuse or faulty wire.  But nothing.  The rain started again.

She pulled her hands back to her lap.  Her heart was still racing and tears kept flowing down under her chin. She looked around.  Everything in the living room and kitchen looked the same. No sign of the earthquake-like convolutions the whole appartement experienced only minutes ago.  Inko combed the entire space for evidence.  An object knocked off the shelf.  A picture frame fallen from the wall.  The notifications.  Toys in the closet or scuffs in the wall.  Still not a sign.  She even stepped outside her door to check the sky.  Only light rain and shattered thunder, just like the news said the day before.

There was only one thing out of place.  Back in her bedroom, the bottom drawer of her nightstand hung open.  Inko had to steal herself before approaching it. There were only two things in there: a little green blanket, and a picture of the ultrasound.  The most recent one from her last appointment. The doctor said he was doing fine.

“Izuku…” she whispered to it in her hand.

She remembered the squealing little bundling being put in her arms for the first time.  The first time he smiled at her.  Teaching him to walk, then immediately launching into play.  Him coming home with bruises and scrapes after the kids at school were mean to him, and crying in her arms.  Then, him coming home with his first real friends in a long time. She made them all dinner. Katsudon.  That was Izuku’s favorite.

Only she didn’t remember.  The same way she didn’t really remember the toys and scuffs.  Those were fantasies.  Daydreams of what could have been.  She just thought about them so often they felt like memories. Especially today.  It was his birthday after all.  They’d fade back into vague dreams by tomorrow.  They always did.  

And she would be left with reality.  The silence.  The cold, still little hand between her fingers.  Soft cheeks without blush.  Eyes that never opened.  Clutching him too tight to her chest, knowing the second she let go he would be gone for real and it would all be over.  

But it was never over.  Inko went through this same torturous song and dance every year for fifteen now.  All the guilt and dread would subside slowly over the next one, until it all came back at once.  Just like this.

At least it’s done for now, she tried to reassure herself, climbing back into bed. It still wasn’t even noon yet.  Plenty of time for another breakdown.  Hopefully the next one won’t be, feel, as loud.  She sighed heavily into her sheets.  This sort of thing can’t be normal.  I should really try therapy again.

Against her better judgement, she kept the blanket out, and clutched it to her chest.  Static electricity pricked her fingers.  With her other hand, she reached across the bed, and tried to imagine someone else there. Not Hisashi, never him anymore.  Izuku.  He was fifteen and happy, but the storm was making him nervous so he came to lay beside her.  She remembered it like it was now.  If she closed her eyes, she could feel his warm, soft skin, with a healthy, if a little anxious heartbeat just underneath.  The mattress warped as he sighed.

“We’ll be okay.  It’s just a little rough weather,” she promised.

“Okay, Mom,” Izuku answered quietly.  “…  I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”  I’ll start trying to get myself together tomorrow.  For now, let me have this.

Izuku didn’t respond for a while.  “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.  Happy birthday.”

[ladydaemon]

hello!! can i have a Genderqueer!reader (amab, afab, other, or not mentioned at all, i don't mind!), who comes out to Nikolai (my beloved). Nikolai then wears a skirt to support his partner (and is kinda insecure about it at first but you know what, he ends up enjoying the skirt).

also, also, fluffy hurt/comfort plssss. and you can definitely change some things about the request I gave you! :)))

A/N: So I did change the request a bit (reader is already out) because I have absolutely no fucking clue as to how to write that – y'all don't seem to realize that I'm closeted as fuck offline. And the bullying in this is so cliché I hate it with a burning passion. HAPPY PRIDE MONTH Y'ALL.

Summary: Prince Nikolai notices that Y/N is being harassed for being genderqueer, and makes a statement about it.

Warnings: swearing, homophobia, transphobia????, comfort/fluff type shit with a sprinkle of angst, KoS? and R&R spoilers, I might've accidentally used she/her pronouns for reader on accident, please tell me if I did

Y/D/N = your deadname

Y/N saw the way they looked at them. Like they were something other and unnatural and strange. Some wanted to understand, wanted to accept, and Y/N appreciated that – but then there were the others, the ones who refused to call them anything but their deadname, who jeered and pointed.

Nikolai didn't know, of course. Y/N didn't want to put anything else on the new king's plate, least of all some measly bullying that they could handle perfectly well on their own. Nikolai was busy with his meeting and his negotiations, and he shouldn't be bothered by someone teasing a cook.

Even if said cook was his childhood friend since before either of them could remember.

"Y/N, I swear on all the Saints, if you burn those damn cookies because you're having a pity party, I'm telling Prince Nikolai about Ameer and his cronies," Selene threatened, brushing past Y/N on her way to the pantry. "Don't think I won't do it."

Ameer was one of the worst when it came to insults and slurs – the one who always managed to corner them and taunt, spread rumors and gossip. He was an Inferni, and one of the best, which was why most of the Grisha turned a blind eye. Selene (who had been a mother figure to Y/N and had taught them how to cook and bake) knew about him, and what he said, but held her tongue when Y/N had begged her not to tell Nikolai.

It didn't mean Selene was happy about it.

Y/N sighed, turning back to their cookies to see that they had, in fact, almost burned them. With a yelp, they rescued them from the oven and scraped the small pastries off of the bottom of the pan so they wouldn't burn, exhaling in relief when they saw that the bottoms weren't black. Thank the Saints.

"They're supposed to be soft," Selene hissed, prodding one with a finger to prove that the cookies were flaky and not how they should be. The woman seemed to materialize whenever anything was ever cooked or baked wrong. "Make another batch."

"There aren't any more fresh berries, though. We can't use the dry ones, they'll burn," Y/N said sourly, scraping the ruined pastries in the trash bin. "Nikolai's having one of the fancy parties and they'll know if the berries are fresh or not."

"Then go to the market and get some more, child!" Selene whapped them in the back of the head with a wooden spoon. "Common sense! And get me some more of the chocolate morsels, we're running low."

Y/N nodded, well used to the brisk woman, exiting the large kitchen bumbling and bustling with movement and steam and smells. They used the servant's exit, ducking under the small door and exiting Os Alta through the back gate, a well-known shortcut to the market at the village.

After a quick walk, Y/N arrived at the farmer's market – the stand with the raspberries was blissfully empty, and they paid quickly, heaving a small basket of the berries into their arms. They were about to stand in line for the rare chocolates (which, in the palace, were not so rare), when they felt someone shove them.

Someone cheered.

The raspberries spilled into the dirt.

"I am so sorry, Y/D/N," a voice that Y/N knew far too well, dripping in fake sincerity. "Do you need help with those?"

"I'm fine," Y/N answered, response short and clipped and in a tone that suggested the conversation was over before it began. They didn't look at Ameer, only began slowly picking the fruit out of the dirt path. Their uniform, pristinely white (a fact they usually prided themselves on) suddenly felt incredibly dirty and raggedy compared to Ameer's brilliant blue kefta.

Ameer did not take the hint. Nor did his cronies.

"Come on, Y/D/N, let me help!"

"Yeah, let him help!"

"I'm fine," Y/N hissed, still crouched on the ground. They just wanted Ameer to go away – they wouldn't even fight back, or do anything. If only he would go away. They knew well enough that saying anything only told him that he was winning.

"Aw, come on, it's the least I could do for a mistake," Ameer snickered, nudging them with his boot. "Come on, say something. I know you're ill in the head, but you can at least speak, can't you?"

"Go away, Ameer." Y/N's jaw clenched, and for some reason, their throat felt tight, like they were going to cry. Which was silly, because they should have been used to it. It happened every day, for Saint's sake.

It was probably just the dust and dirt in their eyes.

Ameer kicked them again in the ribs, sharply and Y/N's entire world narrowed down to that one point. Yeah, there had always been small things - pinches and the like - but he had never actually physically hurt them. They didn't notice when Ameer snickered and walked away.

Get yourself together, Y/N, they scolded themself, standing and brushing off their white uniform. You're better than some bullies.

Go with dignity. Don't fight back. Don't show weakness. Don't say anything.

~

"What took you so long?" Selene huffed, hurrying over to Y/N with a stern expression. "No, no, nevermind the food, the meeting is starting! Grab your platter and move, dammit!"

Thank the Saints that Y/N had had the good sense to brush off their uniform. They grabbed the first available platter (they had to be the exact type of pastry they were trying to make) and lined up with the rest to enter the war room. Then, the cooks and the waiters filed into the large room, person by person with unfaltering steps.

Y/N almost dropped the tray they were carrying.

Everything was pretty much as usual, with Nikolai lounging on a large chair at the head of the table and the missionaries seated around the rectangular table. Servants in white uniforms stood motionless and silent at the walls, ready to be called on for anything at any moment.

The catch was, however, that Nikolai was wearing an elegant, frilly, royal purple dress. Everyone in the room, except Nikolai, who looked utterly at ease, looked distinctly uncomfortable. Y/N, quickly recovering from their shock, placed the tray of pastries in front of him.

"Ah, thank you so very much, Y/N. Do you like my outfit?" Nikolai batted his eyelashes at them, and Y/N, in turn, glared daggers at him. "It's rather comfortable."

"What the fuck are you doing, Nik?" they hissed under their breath so only he could hear. "You could lose alliances over this and you know it, you shithead. How drunk are you?"

"I am perfectly sober, and am absolutely scandalized that you think I would go into an official business meeting while not."

He had, actually. Twice.

Y/N glared harder at him, trying to burn a hole into his skull while mentally projecting a large string of curses in various different languages. But there was only so long they could loiter by his seat as a servant before it became either suspiciously awkward or a wildfire of a rumor, so they stepped back, standing against the wall.

It was about half an hour into the meeting that Y/N realized that he was doing this because of them. Because they hadn't told him what was going on, but he had the audacity to do his sleuthing and guess. It really didn't take a genius, when Y/N thought about it. Because he cared and he saw and he had done something about it.

It made Y/N want to punch him slightly less.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur or awkward coughing, a lot of shaking hands, and Nikolai rubbing his hands appreciatively over the fabric of his dress (and Y/N had to admit, he looked divine in it). And then the missionaries filed out and so did the other white-clad people until it was just Y/N and Nikolai.

"I wasn't lying when I said it was comfortable," Nikolai said teasingly, looking at Y/N. They huffed and plopped down in the seat closest to him, popping an a lone strawberry in their mouth. He looked at them for a second, eyebrow raised. "So are you actually going to tell me what happened, or…?"

"Just some teasing," Y/N mumbled around the mouthful of food. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Liar."

"Yep."

He sighed, picking up a discarded pastry and sticking it in his mouth. "These were delicious, by the way."

"Thanks. I'll make sure to pass that along to Selene."

He hummed, and they sat in silence for a while, the only sound being that of creaking chairs and faint chatter from outside the room. Nikolai turned toward her, his face a mixture of concern and seriousness. "I won't force you to talk about it, okay? Just… know I'm here."

Y/N exhaled slowly, and their voice was quiet. "Okay."

"Okay.' "I should get back to Selene, she's going to want help in the kitchen," Y/N said, standing up. As they brushed past Nikolai, their voice turned serious. "And by the way, the dress suits you."

He wore dresses for the rest of the week.

[blouisparadise]

Here are so many amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of November. We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Work Me Breathless | Explicit | 1678 words

Note: this is the sequel to this fic.

Louis visits Harry at work after the doctor got a new promotion. They christen his new office...

Louis leaves a little breathless.

2) Skeletons In My Closet | Not Rated | 2051 words

Basically soft core porn. Harry decided to treat Louis on Halloween.

3) Looks Like We Made It, Look How Far We’ve Come, My Baby | Teen & Up | 2161 words

Louis and Harry are going to officially move in together, they’ve chosen the house and everything is ready, they just need to wait a few months before the owner gives them the keys.

So what’s the problem, you may ask. Well, they’ve been arguing for days and Louis is honestly considering strangling his alpha with one his ridiculously ugly designer scarf. Okay, not really. But he’s going to lose it soon if they don’t stop fighting.

4) Little Devil | Explicit | 2241 words

The pair had just finished taking a round of shots when the one and only Harry Styles saunters over, clapping Niall on the back to say hello. “Louis,” he drawls out, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s raking his eyes over the smaller boy. “You know this is a costume party, right?” Louis rolls his eyes, starting to ramble on about how he is in a costume and what a nit Harry is when he gets it. Harry is saying Louis is a devil.

“And what are you supposed to be Styles? An angel, really?”

“It’s a costume Lou, ’s not supposed to be real,” he says with a smirk, sliding past Louis but stopping long enough to whisper, “I can assure you, I’m no angel baby.”

5) After the Lilo Kiss | Explicit | 2477 words

"I guess I need to show you who you belong to, hmm baby boy?" he growled in my ear while choking me with his other hand.

6) Oh So Thankful | Explicit | 3034 words

Or the one where Louis and Harry both stay at college for Thanksgiving break, and decide to spend the holiday together.

7) Tell Me What You Want (What You Need) | Mature | 3246 words

Louis didn’t plan on getting laid tonight. When he invited Harry over the day before, it was completely innocent. Just two lads hanging out. He still doesn’t plan on it, no matter how hard he’s getting as Harry’s fingernails start scraping over his nipples lightly every time they pass.

8) Calling Out For Someone To Hold Tonight | Not Rated | 3819 words

Harry’s straight. Louis isnt. They still manage to fall in love.

9) Your Love Delights My Soul | Explicit | 4186 words

"Alpha..." Louis moaned against Harry's lips, chasing the friction against his thigh.

"You are my one and only," Harry bit his jaw, "And you know it quite well. Pretty sure I remind you every night, but you have to rile me, have to make me angry. Why, Omega?"

10) Life and Death | Explicit | 4122 words

In which Louis is Life and Harry is Death.

11) When You Turn Off The Lights | Explicit | 4305 words

Gothie Louis/Normie Harry.

12) On My Mind All The Time, Say You're Mine | Explicit | 9261 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Dude, we’re inside, and it’s night time. Those don’t look as cool as you think they do.” Louis could kick himself, he sounded so stupid, but it certainly got the guy’s attention.

It was at that unfortunate moment that he noticed several other things about this hot asshole, that he hadn’t noticed just staring from afar. First, when Louis spoke to him, his gaze was kind of unfocused behind his sunglasses, and secondly, that he had a red and white cane folded up under his arm.

“I’m… Blind,” the man chuckled, awkwardly.  

Louis wanted to melt into a puddle out of pure embarrassment.

“I— am so sorry. I have to go.”

“Hey, wait, wait,” the man soothed, grabbing at Louis’ shoulders before he could get away.

“I’m sorry,” Louis repeated, looking down at his shoes.

“It’s alright,” He cackled. “I get it a lot. More than you know.”

13) Let's Break The Internet | Explicit | 9505 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here. Please note that the pairing for this fic is Louis/OMC.

The one where Louis is an Only Fans baby.

14) With the Certainty Of Tides | Mature | 13980 words

“Love you,” Louis whispered in the dark. He didn’t know what time it was or where the light had gone, he knew that he was in Harry’s arms, basking in the afterglow of all their love and he’d be a fool to not tell Harry that. As if Harry didn’t know.

“Love you,” was whispered back, as if Louis didn’t know. They confessed to each other as if it was their first time saying it, raw and painful, and listened to it the very same way, but they knew those words to be the only ones true.

With all the certainty of the tides, with all the light from the sun, with all the steady beats of their hearts, they were deftly in love, in secret and so loudly. They were brave and fearless and strong and hopelessly devoted in every sense of their breaths.

“We made it, baby,” Harry mumbled, bringing their lips into a final kiss, sweet and soft and the color of pink. They already knew that, didn’t fight tooth and nail and argued through every petty year and bleed their hearts into the words they sang and on their skin for them to have not made it home.

They were home.

15) A Moment In Time | Explicit | 14004 words

The one where Harry and Louis used to be together, until they weren’t, but with a twist of fate and a bit of magic, could this be their chance to find forever in each other’s arms?

16) I'm Still A Little Bit Yours | Mature | 14921 words

“Harry?” Louis asked to the empty apartment. "What the hell?" He sat up on the bed, his comforter pooling around his waist. The place wasn’t big enough to lose someone. Harry must have left in the middle of the night. And then he felt it. The new twinge of pain in his already bruised heart. He forcefully threw his upper body back and grunted in frustration. Then he looked over to the bedside table and noticed a note under the cup of cold chamomile tea he never got around to drinking.

He reached over and there were only two words scrawled on the otherwise blank page, “I’m sorry.”

He was so damn stupid! He curled up on his side sobbing and trembling. He covered his face with the comforter, tears soaking his pillow, as he begged his body to go back to sleep.

17) I Couldn't Face A Life Without Your Lights | Mature | 15538 words

Louis and Harry are college students who haven't been the same in the past two years.

18) Practice In Pencil, Seal It In Pen | Explicit | 16486 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

19) Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) | Not Rated | 16683 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The one where Harry wants a little more in the bedroom and has a habit of putting his foot in his mouth.

20) The Animals, The Animals | Not Rated | 16721 words

Admittedly, it’s not the first time Louis Tomlinson finds himself in handcuffs.

The difference this time is these handcuffs are attached to a year long sentence. Not just that, but a year long sentence sharing a cell with a possibly mute 19 year old with dark eyes and even darker secrets.

21) Colder Weather | Mature | 19103 words

When Harry comes around, it’s the coldest time of year. Louis, for once, just wants Harry to take him away from colder weather.

22) Across the Grey, Salty Sea | Explicit | 19968 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 212: Alex from Dunkirk and French escort/prostitute Louis who ends up in Alex’s quarters more nights than not. Alex gives him his dog tag to wear maybe just a lot of smut and dirty talk with Louis being a pretty princess.

23) Blinded By The Sparks | Explicit | 22205 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry is a scammer who drifts from casino to casino. Louis is the new waiter who wants in on the scam.

24) Rainbow Bloom | Mature | 22711 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis is in denial. Louis has been in denial for far too long. Then Harry enters his life and everything changes.

25) What A Sight For Sore Eyes | Not Rated | 24216 words

Louis’ playing Danny in their uni’s production of Grease. They’re missing a Sandy, and Harry’s sort of been in love with Louis for a year.

Everything else just kind of happens.

26) MISSING | Mature | 26950 words

Louis brothers report Louis missing after they can’t get hold of him for 24hours

Harry Styles and Charlie Stone, detectives of the teenage homicide and missing persons division, are long time friends of the Tomlinson's and take the case.

27) Even The Best Laid Plans | Explicit | 25175 words

Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

28) Sunflowers, Sunshine, And You | Explicit | 28778 words

Sunshine county is small but mighty and Harry takes pride in knowing nearly each and every person that lives inside of it. For nearly eleven years now he’s been sheriff, and not one of them he’s ever regretted settling down here.

He knows the road names like the back of his hand, knows the people and the animals and the way the world works here. In all of the time he’s been here, not a thing has changed.

So, all things considered, when he starts seeing a beat up pickup truck roaming through town with plates he’s never seen before, Harry, to be frank, jumps on that like a fly on fresh dog shit.

29) Blue Songs Are Like Tattoos | Explicit | 30739 words

“Good morning, University of California, you’re listening to KALX 90.7 FM Berkeley, this is DJ Harry Styles. If the owner of the tapes I’ve been finding around the studio doesn’t come forward and introduce himself, I’m going to continue tossing them straight in the trash!”

or the DJ Harry and Rockstar Louis fic.

30) Sweet Like Honey | Explicit | 33117 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry and Louis need money and they find an unconventional solution in the form of PornHub. It’s not supposed to be a big deal.

31) When Our Worlds They Fall Apart | Explicit | 42228 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry put his hand over his heart as if Louis had wounded him. “You’re so harsh, my liege! Perhaps you need to relieve some tension…” He let his voice trail off suggestively.

“The day I ask YOU to relieve tension is the day I lose all my wits and join the Imperials,” Louis said. “It will never happen”

Prompt 325: Star Wars AU with Harry as Han Solo and Louis as Leia.

32) Somewhere In Between | Explicit | 42765 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis wakes up early. He brushes his teeth and can only stomach a piece of toast for breakfast, dressing quickly and heading for the car. He pulls into the parking lot of the Department of Dominance and Submission just as they’re unlocking the doors. It takes him all of an hour in the uncomfortable chairs to fill out the paperwork to the best and most accurate of his ability, handing it over to the receptionist as soon as he’s finished and wiping his sweaty palms on his business trousers.

There’s a high chance that within ten to fifteen business days, Louis will be matched with a dominant.

Shit.

33) Spoonful of Sugar | Explicit | 42900 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here. This fic is also a sequel to this fic.

Louis Tomlinson cares for his family above all else, a fact that’s led him on a twisted path peddling drugs to support them. Just as he’s made the decision to jump ship, Louis gets snared between the two largest crime syndicates in the city. To keep his family safe he’s forced to trust the man that failed to keep his promise two years ago, the resident drug lord he’s unknowingly been working for, Harry Styles.

34) Breakable Heaven | Explicit | 44594 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“What do you think?” Louis gets captured by Harry’s green eyes, unable to look away or even take a breath.

“I think you’re the most magnificent creature I’ve ever met.”

“You must not have met many creatures then.”

Harry’s eyes glance downward to Louis’ lips and his tongue darts out to wet his own. “None like you.”

35) You're The Habit That I Can't Break | Not Rated | 44940 words

When Louis crosses paths with a green eyed stranger in prison, he learns that some habits aren't so bad.

36) Fine Line (The Story of Us) | Not Rated | 46191 words

Walking through Harry's album Fine Line. Each chapter reflects a song off the album.

Harry knew he was a lucky guy, really he did. He knew that in the cosmic pulling of straws he had pulled the long one and basically won the lottery. With a number one debut album, millions of adoring fans, and many a celebrity praising his work Harry should feel happier. He should be skipping instead of walking, singing instead of talking, and grinning from ear to ear. Maybe he was ungrateful. Maybe he was numb to it all. Or maybe he had a big, ocean-sized crush on his best friend.

37) Tastes Like Summer, Smiles Like May | Explicit | 47519 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.

38) A Silent Whisper (That's Left Unsaid) | Explicit | 50842 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

A Fake Relationship & Exes to Lovers AU ft a failed proposal ten years ago, an oblivious Harry, an overworked Louis, Zayn as the protective best friend, a meddling aunt and a lot of talks about weddings and rings.

39) Lost And Found | Explicit | 51736 words

Where Louis is just looking for his dog but finds love along the way.

40) Don't You Know That I'm a Moon in Daylight? | Explicit | 58770 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 79: Louis and Harry fell in love in the 18th century, Louis wanted Harry to convert him into a vampire, but he ended up resenting Harry for it. Fast forward to our modern days, they haven’t seen each other since then, but one day they meet again through a mutual friend. Harry was bitter for a long time, but he accepted that being angry wouldn't erase the fact that Louis was the love of his life. He wanted to court and spoil Louis like in their original time period, but Louis avoided him every time Harry tried to reconnect. Happy ending!

41) The Guesthouse | Explicit | 61951 words

Louis has a secret that could break him. With every trip to the Guesthouse, with every fuck he offers himself up for, he gets a piece of the freedom back that he's lost.

Seven nights a year he goes to the exclusive sex club; every day he fights to keep that little bit of information to himself.

And there's another thing - his unwavering and pointless obsession with his bandmate.

There's the Guesthouse, and then there's Harry, and Louis works tirelessly to keep the two apart. Soon, very soon now, he won't be able to.

42) My Friend Lost A Bet | Mature | 74965 words

The one where Louis ends up on the list of potential fake-boyfriends for Harry Styles because Stan really sucks at football bets.

43) In A Sea Of Mist | Explicit | 126725 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

A Greek Mythology/Camp Half-Blood AU where Harry is lost, the road to peace is a wretched one, and somehow, through a mist of confusion and regrets, Louis seems to be the only thing that makes sense and everything Harry needs.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[saijspellhart]

15 thiefshipping please.

15. A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick. (Thiefshipping)

"Well?" Bakura gave his roommate a pointed look.

Malik tried his hardest to suppress a grimace, but only managed to press his lips together and wrinkle his nose. "What's in these cookies?"

"Cookie stuff! Obviously. Ryou showed me the recipe yesterday. He said it was so easy even I could make it."

Malik tried not to gag when he swallowed, failed, and moved the rest of the cookie under his tongue. "What's the recipe?"

"Butter, flour, sugar, eggs, vanilla," Bakura listed off, clearly getting impatient. "Normal cookie stuff. So how are they?"

"Are you sure you put sugar in them?" Malik shuddered again at the flavor still crawling over his tongue.

Bakura heaved a sigh and picked up a ceramic canister from the counter. "Sugar."

Malik squinted at the little faded label made out of masking tape. "It says salt."

The former Yami spun the container in his hand and glowered at the label, scrutinizing it like some secret coded message. "Fuck. So it does."

Malik took this opportunity to scrape his fingers over his tongue, and dig the rest of the cookie out of his mouth. "Why was I the first one to taste these anyway? Shouldn't it have been you?"

"I tasted them yesterday when Ryou made them. I thought they were good."

"Ryou didn't make them wrong!"

"So I suck at baking! Screw this!" He grabbed the plate and chucked the cookies into the garbage bin, plate included. "I try to do something nice..." the sentence trialed off in muttering that sounded more like swear words. Bakura folded his arms over his chest, practically throwing himself against the counter when he leant back against it.

Much to his distaste, Malik dug the plate out of the trash can. He gave his roommate a side-eye as he placed it into the sink.

"This is why I buy everything from the store," grumbled Bakura.

The soap suds squished between Malik's fingers as he washed his hands, watching the water splash around the clean and empty sink as he did so. It was only then that he took in the state of the kitchen... which to his surprise was oddly clean for a Bakura that just made a batch of salty cookies.

Come to think of it, there weren't even any dirty dishes in the sink from breakfast or lunch.

There was no way his lazy-ass roommate made cookies and washed all the dishes. Was there?

Suspiciously Malik's gaze darted over to Bakura himself. To his utter surprise Bakura was dusted in patches of flour. Bits on his shirt, on his arms, and even some on his face. There very well could have been flour in Bakura's hair too, but it blended in flawlessly with the natural white color caused by his albinism.

So, he really did bake cookies. He turned his attention back to the sink and the surrounding countertops. It wasn't perfect by any means, a little cluttery, and there were some crumbs under the toaster. But the sink was empty aside from the cookie plate, and the counters had been wiped down. He even cleaned the kitchen.

"Thank you," Malik said lowly as he finished rinsing off his hands.

"What?" Bakura spoke the word sharply with a little too much emphasis on the H.

"For cleaning the kitchen," Malik clarified, turning away from the sink and using the dish towel to dry off. "It was... thoughtful."

"Whatever," Bakura huffed and turned his face away.

Malik caught the tint of pink on his pale cheeks regardless. He strode across the kitchen and stopped in front of his roommate leaning in a bit as he grinned. "Teach me."

"Teach you what?" he snarled. "To make salty mistakes?"

"The cookies, Bakura, not your half-ass blowjobs. You said Ryou taught you the recipe, and I want to try them." Malik snagged an apron from a drawer nearby, and threw it over his head. It was a weird, white and pink, frilly thing that Bakura always sneered at but Malik liked it.

"Like hell I'm going through that again. I'll just fuck them up."

"Guess I'll have to make cookies by myself," Malik sniffed, wandering over to the cabinets to take out a mixing bowl. The first thing he grabbed was a pan for a bundt cake. After a blink he shrugged and set it on the counter, then he fished out a wire whisk. "I don't know any of the amounts."

When he collected eight eggs from the fridge, Bakura finally cringed. He heaved a long dramatic sigh before coming up behind Malik and tossing the bundt pan back into the cabinet. He tore down the mixing bowl he'd used earlier and placed it on the counter, then collected a rubber spatula from the utensil drawer.

"Was that so hard?" teased Malik.

"Yes." Bakura pulled out the large plastic container they kept flour in and began measuring it.

Malik watched him carefully, helpfully holding the glass mixing bowl in place while his roommate dumped the white powder in. "I honestly don't know how there is any flour left, you're wearing most of it."

The next cup of flour went right down the front of Malik's shirt.

"Son of a bitch, Bakura! What was that for?!"

The former Yami nonchalantly resumed the task at hand, smirking down at the mixing bowl. "I missed.”

Any attempt to brush the flour away only resulted in smearing more of the white powder over his brown skin, so Malik gave up. He watched Bakura put one more cup into the mixing bowl before asking, "is that the last one?"

"Yes. We need to mix the butter and sugar together in a separate-"

A sudden cascade of white plummeted down over Bakura's head before he could finish his sentence. It exploded into the air in thick clouds, dousing him in powder from hair to socked foot.

The Egyptian beside him stepped away clutching the now empty plastic flour container. A cheeky grin stretching from ear to ear.

For a long moment Bakura simply stood there, dusted like a pale ghost, chocolate brown eyes staring at the counter but focusing on nothing in particular. Malik's nasally chortling the only sound punctuating the moment.

Then the former Yami took a handful of the flour from the mixing bowl and hurled it into his roommate's stupidly laughing face.

Malik sputtered and coughed when a second handful came down on his head, Bakura smacking the flour into his hair.

"S-stop that!" he screeched, still trying to spit out mouthfuls of powder.

"Make me!"

Another fistful of flour almost made it into Malik's hair, but Bakura's socked foot slipped on the flour covered floor, and his flour-covered self ended up careening into Malik instead.

This sent the two men tumbling to the ground where they proceeded to roll around the floor, scooping up fistfuls of excess flour and trying to smear it onto the other. Hair, face, nose, eyes, down the shirts, and into the pants. Malik's foot kicked a cabinet, and Bakura's elbow smacked the linoleum, but neither of them let up.

That is until until Malik's hand came way to close to Bakura's mouth, and his teeth snapped down like a trap.

"You bit me!" Malik recoiled a white dusted arm, that now sported a neat wet teeth pattern amidst the powder on his palm.

Bakura bared his teeth and snapped them again, making a sharp clicking sound.

It was a challenge as much as it was a warning.

And Malik was just the sort of moron who would bait a shark and then go swimming with it. Or bite it back.

He pinned the white-haired male to the floor, difficult because Bakura fought him wildly, but not as difficult as it could be because Bakura was thinner, shorter, and lankier than him. And to anyone's surprise who saw Malik's body he was actually pretty toned. He definitely had more muscles than his roommate, and it came to his advantage in this moment.

He swooped in and clamped his own teeth on the flesh of Bakura's shoulder.

The man beneath him yelled—a strange yowling noise mixed with unintelligible protest—and flailed violently. The movement, coupled with the coating of flour, managed to dislodge Malik, but he swiftly dove in again and bit the next closest thing to his mouth.

That happened to be Bakura's cheek and jaw.

Bakura's socked feet kicked against the powdered linoleum, struggling to find purchase and leverage. He only managed to slip and rub awkwardly against the male above him. A strange noise choked out of Malik's throat that bordered on whimper, and his teeth slipped a bit. Bakura managed to get one hand loose, snagging a fist full of Malik's blonde hair, he ripped the other man off the side of his face. In the same motion he whipped his own head, and bit him in retaliation.

Right on Malik's upper lip.

Malik yelped. Bakura's teeth scraped. And their eyes connected briefly before they suddenly both jerked away.

"Y-you kissed me."

Bakura flinched like someone had taken a swing at him. "No I didn't."

Malik cocked his head and fixed him with a look of disbelief. "What would you call that then?"

"I bit you."

"On the lips!"

"On the mouth!" Bakura refuted.

If it were at all possible Malik's look became even more disbelieving. "It's the same thing." As if to prove his point, the man beneath him wasn't making eye contact.

"It's not."

"It is!"

Not one to back out of an argument, Malik dipped down to substantiate his claim. He pressed his lips flush against Bakura's, capturing the thief's startled mouth in a kiss.

He didn't react at first, unless Malik counted his whole body tensing up like a corpse in rigor mortis. The kiss wasn't long. His lips were soft against his, pliant and and tasting of raw flour. But this wasn't quite the point Malik was trying to prove. He nipped Bakura's bottom lip as he broke away, a lingering pinch of that soft flesh between teeth before he sat back and grinned in triumph.

Thirty seconds passed before the thief sucked in a ragged shuddering breath. "What the hell was that?"

Malik grinned, all white teeth and conceited superiority. "According to you it was a bite, you silly goose." He tapped the end of Bakura's sickly-pale nose with a powder-coated bronze finger.

Bakura's nose scrunched adorably. "Don't call me that."

"You s-ss—stupid bitch," Malik tried again.

Dark chocolate colored eyes narrowed under furrowed brows. He pointedly chose to ignore that and focus on something more important. "That was not a bite." Bakura broke from Malik's half-assed grip. "This is."

Before Malik could even open his mouth to protest, Bakura surged up, took two fistfuls of blonde hair and dragged the former tomb keeper into a fierce kiss that was just as painful as it was intense. They fell back into the pile of flour, a cloud of powder thrown into the air as lips and sharp canines smashed together, bruising and burning.

Nothing about the kiss was gentle or sweet, it was messy and vicious. Their teeth clacked, noses bumped, and Bakura seemed hell bent on shoving his tongue places that made static skitter down Malik's spine.

Despite it all, Malik kissed him back, matching the ferocity with just as much enthusiasm. He was still straddling the thief, bent forward with most of his weight settled on his elbows. Bakura's wild mane of white hair was spread out like a lion's mane around his head, and Malik couldn't resist curling his fingers in the unkempt tresses.

But all too soon the kiss ended, concluded when Bakura's teeth bit down on Malik's lip hard enough to draw blood. Malik hissed, and jerked away from the swipe of Bakura's tongue before it could draw over the wound.

"Shit, what was that for?!" He sat back, wiping a hand over his bloodied lip. He'd barely settled on Bakura's lap for a second when he yelped like a wounded dog and shot off of him and into the kitchen cabinets.

"That's how you bite someone," the thief sneered haughtily. He attempted to hop to his feet in a swift movement, but his socks slipped, and he went crashing down into the flour covered linoleum again, sending a cloud into the air around him.

Malik snorted, coughed, and would have laughed but his eyes were glued on the obvious tent in his roommate's pants.

His attempt at an exit failed, Bakura slapped a hand over his crotch and snarled, "Fuck you, don't look at me."

"I can't believe you kissed me," Malik said as he used the counter to pull himself up onto shaky legs. He cast another look at the flushed man on the floor then added, "and liked it."

"Don't flatter yourself," snapped Bakura. "It's not like it was pleasant. You tasted like salt!"

"Only because I ate your shitty cookie!"

"Because of you we can't make any cookies at all!" Bakura shot back just as defensively. He threw a handful of the ruined flour for emphasis.

"Why the hell were you making cookies to begin with!?" Malik refused to turn away from the counter and opting to yell over his shoulder.

The entire room fell silent.

What seemed like an uncomfortable eternity passed and he chanced looking back at the thief.

Bakura had his face turned away, cheeks scarlet despite the dusting of white, and jaw set like a vice.

"Bakura?"

The former Yami surged to his feet once more. This time succeeding. "I was making them for you," he growled so lowly before storming from the room.

~0000~

How was that, handsome? Hope ya like it. I used a quote from one of our conversations in here. ;3

Thanks for sending me the ask. You’re the best and I love you. 😘

[avengerscompound]

The Surrogate - Chapter 1

The Surrogate:  A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count:  3305

Rating:  E

Warnings: Injuries, smut (M\F, oral sex, vaginal sex, public sex)

Synopsis:  A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.  While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people.  When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want.  Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

A/N:  Just a reminder as this is a new series you must tell me (preferably by ask) that you want to be tagged or continue to be tagged.

Chapter 1

The sky was on fire.  Everything around you was chaos.  People running for their lives and parts of buildings crashing to the ground.  You were trying to not let the crowd drag you along with them because all you could think was there was nowhere you could go right now that would be safe and if you were going to die, you didn’t want it to be at the bottom of a pile of corpses.

You ducked down a side alley that stunk of trash but was blessedly empty of people.  As you took a moment to decide what you would do next, there was a cry from above you and a figure rocketed down from the side of the building, managed to grab hold of the fire escape just long enough to dislocate his shoulder and slow his fall, before landing on top of a dumpster with a loud crash and rolling onto the ground.  You rushed over to the figure that seemed to be trying to struggle to its feet.

“You probably shouldn’t move,” you said, crouching down and pushing him back a little.  It wasn’t until that moment that you realized this was an actual Avenger.  Not just any Avenger either, Hawkeye, one of the original ones.  You wondered what he was doing in your town and if there were any other Avengers here.  If there were, maybe you weren’t as doomed as you’d originally thought.

“Gotta,” Clint groaned trying to push you back off him.  “Need to get back.”

“You’re an archer and at the very least you’ve dislocated your arm,” you reasoned.

“Not dislocated,” Clint groaned, rolling onto his side.  “Broken.  And some ribs.  Might have bruised my spine.”

You helped him to sit up and furrowed your brow.  “I might be able to help you,” you said.  “A little anyway.  Help you get back.”

“What?  You a drug dealer?”  Clint asked, pulling his arm in against his side.

“No,” you said. “I’m enhanced.  I need you to kiss me.  And not like a peck.  With your injuries, it’s gonna need a full-on make-out session just to get you up.”

Clint’s face did not hide his emotions at all.  He furrowed his brow in confusion, then widened his eyes in surprise.  His lips pursed together as he considered if you were telling the truth and then a large smile broke out on it.  “If you wanted to make-out you just had to ask.”

You leaned in and licked your lips, wetting them well before bringing them to the archer’s.  The spark happened immediately as your powers engaged.  People often thought it was that spark that happens in stories where two people who are meant for each other finally kiss and fall in love.  The first time it happened you’d even fallen for that and you and the guy had ended up dating for a year too long before you realized that maybe there was no such thing as fate, and if there was it could go fuck itself because you weren’t spending another day with that jackass, destiny be damned.

Clint made a soft choked sound and his hand went to your hair drawing you in closer and deepening the kiss.  It was good really.  Even if he was caught up in the feel of your lips against his, and that spark that ran between you it would help with the process.  You teased your tongue into his mouth and he let out a moan as they started to actually do their job.

You were a healer.  Your powers worked perfectly in your own body.  You never got sick, if you cut yourself it would heal instantly.  One time you had been riding a bike and hit a rock.  It sent you sprawling and you heard a loud crack in your shoulder and a flare of white-hot pain.  People had come running to help but when you got back up, there had been absolutely nothing wrong.  Not even a scrape.

They didn’t work so perfectly on other people.  You’d figured out through some accidental trial and error that it worked through bodily fluid exchange.  Kissing could work on cuts and scrapes, but you’d normally need to donate blood to get to the level of healing Clint Barton currently needed, and that only worked if they were a compatible blood type.  There were other ways that worked better than kissing of course.  None you wanted to do right here in the street with a complete stranger even if you could talk him into it.

You swirled your tongue with his and licked over the corner of his mouth, dragging the kiss out as long as possible.  When you finally pulled back, his bruises were gone and most of his cuts.  The arm was definitely still broken but he seemed to be holding it a little better.

“Holy shit,” Clint said.  “I - uh -”

“You aren’t in love with me,” you assured him.  “Don’t worry.  Go save the world.”

He pulled himself to his feet and grabbed his bow from where it had fallen a few feet away.  “I wanna talk to you when all this is done.”

“If you save the world, I’ll meet you back here,” you agreed reluctantly.  You didn’t know if you'd just plunged yourself into deep water by outing your abilities to an actual Avenger or if he was stuck the ‘true love’s kiss’ groove and you were going to have to knock him out of it, but either way, you were dreading it, even if it did mean the world was safe.

You left the alley not long after Clint and ended up sheltering in a tunnel while you waited out the battle.  As the sounds of fighting and explosions died down and the sky began to return to its usual blue, you dared to set back out again.  Clean up crews and emergency services had arrived and it was a little difficult evading them, but you eventually made your way to the alley.

Clint was waiting for you alone.  It looked like he'd seen a medic.  His arm was now in a sling and he had stitches in his cheek.  “Was starting to think you weren't gonna show,” Clint said.

“They aren't letting people back into the hub of the damage,” you explained.  “Had to sneak past a bunch of barricades.”

“Well, aren't you resourceful?” Clint said playfully.  “You got anywhere we could talk?  Preferably where I could also get very, very drunk?”

“I doubt anything is gonna be open around here,” you said.  “Might have to go further out.”

Clint nodded and the two of you walked out looking for a bar together.  He was limping a little and you considered offering your services again, but the looming conversation held you back. You didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.

By the time you did find a bar that was open you had hyped up the conversation so much in your head, you were fairly sure he was going to either propose or send you to the raft for being unregistered and breaking the Sokovia Accords.

“Shots?”  Clint asked as you went into the busy bar.

“Yeah.  Definitely,” you agreed.  “And get food.  I’m starving.  I’ll find a table.”

It took a while to find anywhere to sit.  It was like half the city had decided to drink after the events of the day and this was the only bar open.  You ended up having to share a table with a group of women who seemed to already be halfway to fully drunk.

“So,” Clint said, placing a tray of shots on the table and sliding into the booth beside you.  “Enhanced, huh?”

 “Yeah,” you said and took your first shot.  He’d gotten Kaluah of all things, though you were grateful for the soft warmth of the coffee liqueur over a harsh burn of something like whiskey.

Clint chuckled and took his own shot. “Gonna make me beat it out of you, are you?”  He teased.  When you didn’t answer he shook his head and continued.  “How’d it happen?”

You shrugged.  “Don’t really know exactly,” you say. “I got sick as a kid, and they put me on this drug trial.  I got better and I don’t think I’ve been sick since, but it was such a long time between the trail ending and me noticing that I could actually heal myself that I can’t say for sure it was that or something else.”

You both took another shot and Clint scratched at his arm like it was annoying him. “So just healing?” He asked.

“That’s not enough?”  You shot back.

He laughed loudly, throwing his head back.  “No, that’s plenty.  More than I’ve got,” he conceded.  “You’re pretty defensive you know?”

You sighed and sunk back into the chair.  The alcohol was already making your head feel fuzzy and you were worried you were going to get into a fight with Hawkeye right in the middle of the bar.  “I can just see how this conversation goes.  You’re either gonna convince me to join the Avengers or you’re thinking about the kiss and that spark and you wanna ask me out.”

“That kiss was pretty great,” Clint teased.

“I know, it’s the powers,” you said.  “People think it’s some kind of soulmate thing.  I’ve had stalkers because of it.”

Clint waited as you took another shot.  One of the bar staff came over and put a plate of sliders and curly fries down and you both started to eat.  “God, I needed that,” Clint said with his mouth full.

“You did do a lot today,” you said.

“Yeah, I saved your ass and you won’t even date me,” he teased.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t date you,” you argued.  “I just don’t want an Avengers stalker.”

“Don’t worry,” he said.  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, if you wanted to kiss me again, I wouldn’t fight you off, but I get it.  It was something to do with the healing.”

“Yeah,” you said.  “Energy transference I think it is.”

There was another pause and you both took another shot.  You were drunk now, you knew it.  Normally you would be more careful about drinking this much with a strange man but there had been so much today, and he was an avenger.

“Why don’t you want to be an Avenger?” He asked.

You sighed.  “I’d be useless.  What am I gonna do, follow you all around and make-out every time someone gets a scratch?”

He laughed.  “That’s the only way it works?”

“It’s a bodily fluid exchange.  I could have spit in your mouth, but I thought that would be hard to talk you into,” you explained.

Clint laughed and held his side.  “You kidding? I normally have to pay people to do that.”

You completely lost it laughing.  “Oh my god!”

“Alright, alright, don’t make me laugh,” Clint said.  “My ribs are still busted.”

“Want me to help with that?” You offered.

He looked you up and down and chewed his bottom lip.  “Dunno.  Next time we make out, I want it to be because you want to make out with me.”

You giggled and heat rushed to your face.  It was not a reaction you were used to but then you weren’t used to good looking superheroes hitting on you either.

“So, if it’s bodily fluids, would blood work?” He asked.

“Blood works best,” you said.  “But I can’t keep myself bleeding long enough to do a bleed into their wound thing, and if it’s a blood transfusion, they still have to match my blood type.”

“Well that could still be useful,” he said.  “Maybe you are the same blood type as some of us?  You could come and see?”

You sighed and picked up the last shot on the tray.  Since you got your powers you had wanted to help, but they were so limited you hadn’t been able to find a way to do that and have it actually work.  You gave blood regularly and hoped that might have led to some of the miracle recoveries some people go through, but apart from that, there wasn’t much you could do.  At least agreeing to go with Clint to see if you might be able to help was something you could do.

“Fine,” you sighed.  “I’ll go with you, but I warn you, my powers are so limited.  I doubt it’ll come to anything.”

“Great,” Clint grinned and put his arm around your shoulders.  “Now, to trying to get you to want to kiss me for real.”

You laughed and drank the shot.  Clint went up and got more drinks.  This time just a pitcher of beer for the two of you to share.  Whether it was the alcohol, the stress, the thrill that he was an Avenger or maybe that he seemed to be a completely likable dumbass, you weren’t sure but it didn’t take long until you were locked together, kissing passionately and finding yourself getting more than a little bit turned on.

You were practically sitting on his lap as his hands slid up under your skirt.  The spark that ran from you to him, was like a hot current, pulling you to him.  He moaned into your lips, completely uncaring that there were people around you.  It was likely that part of that was due to the fact you’d been at it for so long his bones were knitting, but he was definitely as turned on as you were, you could feel his erection every time he pulled you closer to him.

You gripped his thigh and he broke the kiss and began sucking on the pulse point under your ear.  “I want to fuck you so fucking bad.”

“My place was in the fall zone,” you whined.

He gripped your thigh and pulled you so you were almost straddling him.  “Bathroom,” he growled against your ear.

You nodded and he pulled you to your feet.  The two of you stumbled to the bathrooms, making out against the wall as you waited for one to become free.  As soon as it did, Clint pushed you inside, locking the door behind you.  He was still sore you could tell, but even with the broken arm and ribs, he managed to lift you up onto the sink.  You spread your legs and he dragged your panties down.  You were already soaking for him, and he dropped to his knees and ran his tongue up your cunt.  The spark you felt as your powers engaged ran hard through your cunt, making you jerk your hips.  You braced your arm against the mirror and gripped the side of the sink as Clint held your legs apart and greedily sucking on your folds.  He moaned loudly and his tongue pushed inside of you like he was trying to drink you up from the source.  You rocked your hips against his face and he began to focus on your clit, sucking and biting at it.  He thrust two fingers inside you and fucked you hard with them.  With the current that was running through you, you were barely holding it together.  You panted, your head resting back on the grimy glass of the mirror above the sink.  Clint’s fingers moved inside you, dragging over your g-spot again and again.  You weren’t sure you were going to be able to hold yourself up and your legs kept wanting to snap night around his head.  He held them apart and kept going and with a loud cry, you came, gushing on his face.  He let out a moan to match your cry and lapped up what he could.  He stood and began to fish around in his pocket.

“Jesus, I think my ribs have healed.  Should have eaten you out in the field,” Clint teased.

“What kind of girl do you think I am?”  You laughed.

“Fucking filthy one,” he growled.

You grabbed him by the belt and began to unfasten his pants.  “Clint,” you said, still breathing heavily.  “I’m on birth control and I’m a healer.”

A slow smile played over his lips and he pulled his cock out.  “Well, then,” he said and thrust deep inside of you.

You both moaned, the spark returning again.  There was a banging on the door and you buried your face in his neck.  “Fuck,” you giggled.  “Gonna need to be quick.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Clint teased, playfully.  “I can do ‘quick’.”

You burst out laughing and let your head fall back, he held you close and started fucking you hard and deep.  He shoved you up against the wall with every thrust and you bit into his shoulder, moaning into his skin.  Your fingers dug into his back and you braced a foot on the wall.  Everything came together perfectly, the place, the person, your powers, how deep and hard he penetrated you, you lost yourself to it.  Your body spasmed and clenched and you came again, holding yourself as close to Clint as you could as it shuddered though you.  He thrust hard into you, holding you in place as he came.  “Fuck,” he groaned as his cock pulsed with it’s released.  “That was…”

“Mm-hmm…” you hummed and he slipped from within you.  “The healing thing always makes it more intense.”

“How come it’s done nothing for my ears?”  Clint asked as he tucked his cock back away.  “I mean, everything it’s been working on, but I still have my hearing aids on?”

You shook your head as you straightened yourself back up and pulled up your underwear.  “Don’t know.  The worse the injury or illness the more exchange has to happen.  I can’t do things like regrow body parts.  It does nothing for scar tissue.  And the older the injury the less likely it is to work at all.”

“Huh,” Clint said and there was another banging on the door.  “You ready?”

You nodded.  “Yeah, better let the people pee.”

The two of you walked back into the crowded bar.  “You coming home with me?”  Clint asked as he took out his phone and tapped around on it.

You shrugged.  “I guess.  I mean, I don’t even think they’ll let me near my place.”

“Cool,” Clint said casually.  “To the roof.”

You furrowed your brow and looked at him.  He just pointed the way so you followed after him.  As you reached the roof a large black military jet approached and then hovered above you both.  The back end of it opened up and it began to lower itself down, when it was within reach, Clint jumped up into the back and leaned over, holding his hand out to you and helping you scramble inside.

You followed him up to the cockpit as the back end closed again.  “Thanks for coming to get me, Nat,” Clint said, kissing the redhead at the cockpit on the cheek.

She scrunched up her nose and ruffled his hair.  “What was I supposed to do?  Leave you here?”

You watched them as you took your seat and buckled yourself in.  There was an easy affection between them and you realized, they were together.  Together-together.  You’d just helped Hawkeye cheat on Black Widow.

Bile started to bubble up from your stomach and you weren’t sure what to do.  You could keep it secret and let it eat at you forever, or you could tell her and she’d probably stab you.  It wouldn’t kill you, but being stabbed still hurt and you didn’t want it to happen.

Your conscience seemed to be in control though.  The words bubbled up and burst out of your mouth completely out of your control.  With a yelp and covering your mouth with your hands, you shouted; “Clint and I just had sex!”

// NEXT

[twinkleimagines]

✨Let me save you✨

Summary: Tom is your best friend and he’s currently in a relationship. His relationship was extremely toxic as she was possessive and controlling, but things escalate when you find out she’s abusive as well, mentally and physically.

⚠️⭕️WARNING: abuse is a topic in this story so if that is a trigger, please don’t read! Language and sexual content included.

‘ I’m on the way’ you texted to your best friend Tom Holland. Tom had invited you to dinner to celebrate the release of his most recent movie ‘ spider man- far from home’. You were extremely excited. Ever since he got into his relationship with Sarah freeman, you were seeing him less and less. He would always tell you ,

‘ Taylor made plans’ or ‘ Taylor doesn’t feel good’. His excuses to ditch you always involved Taylor. She didn’t want to share him even though you both had been friends way longer than their relationship. To say the least , you hated her. With a boiling passion. She was stuck up, spoiled and snobby. Anything she wanted, Tom had to jump up and get it or she would pitch a fit. You hated for him. You honestly didn’t understand why he stayed.

But for tonight, you were going to be as nice as you could to her so you didn’t jeopardize your chances of seeing him. You grinned as you looked at yourself in the mirror, admiring the dress Tom had gotten for you last year. It was for your birthday, 9 days before he made it official between him and Taylor. It was right around the chest, making your breast stand out, but flowed out some towards the bottom, stopping just above the knees. It fit your frame so well.

**

You had finally made it to Toms dinner, his brothers and his parents there as well. You are more than upset though because you never could get one time alone with Tom to ask him how he was doing because she was always standing right by him. almost threw out the whole dinner she made it all about herself, not once did you hear her complement Tom on his new job she would just keep speaking about what she was doing for herself or what Tom bought her.  you could see that he was just happy to have everyone there because he was so locked up all the time because of her. She didn’t want him around anyone without her self.

“ when are you going to come over Tom ?” Asked looking over at him. “you’ve got to see the theater room I created” you beamed excitedly. It wasn’t much, it was just a projector in an empty room with bean bag chairs and blankets laid out. You even had a closet full of DVD’s and snacks.

“ oh you finally did it? “ he replied. You had always told him you were jealous of his built in theater at his home and that when you found you something bigger, you were going to get your own too. He had knew you had moved but he has yet to step inside your home. Of course because of Taylor.

“ yeah!” You beamed. “ you’ll love it!”.

You could feel the glare from Taylor though, at this point you had come to the conclusion she didn’t like the thought of any other woman being in Toms life, which was extremely possessive.

“ yeah I’d love that” he exclaimed with a sincere smile. Moments later Taylor set her fork down aggressively before standing up.

“ thank you all for coming to celebrate Tom, but I must go wash up” she said brushing the crumbs off the bottom of her dress. “ goodnight” she said before sticking her nose in the air, walking back towards their shared bedroom. You scoffed shaking your head.

What a fucking bitch.

The rest of Toms’ family got the hint and started to say their goodbyes but you weren’t going to let her win like that.

“ here I’ll help you out dishes up “ you said grabbing your dishes. He nodded before helping you pick them off the table. As you were scraping the eff overs into the trash, you heard Taylor calling out Toms name from the bed room.

“ I’ll be right back” he said before walking towards his room. You sighed heavily, sadness coming over you. It wasn’t fair for your best friend to be dealing with such a horrible person. She was so selfish she couldn’t even let him enjoy a mean with his own family.

“Hey y/n” Tom said walking up next to you.

“ hmm” you said not looking up from the plate you were washing.

“ you gotta go” he said softly. You knew what happened. She complained and whined until she got her way.

“ what do you mean Tom” you asked, even though you already knew the answer. You looked over at him and could see that he wanted to cry he was so upset.

“ please don’t be mad at me” he pleaded, he reminded you of an innocent puppy who’s owner treated him like shit. “ she just doesn’t feel comfortable with us being alone together any. “ he explained. “ she doesn’t know what either of our intentions are” you scoffed rolling your eyes.

“ Tom are you fucking kidding me?” Yoh snapped. You weren’t even being quiet anymore. You wanted her to hear you at this point. “ this is bullshit she can’t tell you who you can and can’t hang out with “ you said. You were fuming at this point. How dare she.

“Y/n I know I know I just-“

“ no Tom! Man up!” At this point his head was lowered , too humiliated to even look at you. You really weren’t mad at him. You were pissed at her. The disappointment in him for allowing someone to treat him like that was radiating off of you by now though. You knew he deserved better and so did he. “ this is not the Tom I know” you said, your voice lowering with each word. At this point you didn’t want to say anything else that might hurt him out of anger so you walked back into the dining room grabbing your stuff before heading out the door without even saying a goodbye.

You sat in your car for a moment contemplating on whether or not you should go back inside and apologize to Tom for the way you acted. He honestly didn’t deserve you snapping on him like that but your anger was towards her not him.  but before you could even make your mind up, you heard yelling and even glass breaking inside.

“ oh my God” you said before jumping back out of the car, running towards the door. You started knocking really really hard, praying you got someone’s attention before things got worse. Everything went quiet for a second before the front door swung open. It was Taylor. She noticed it was you and push the door back to almost being closed to where you could only see her.

“ What do you want Y/N “ she spat out.

“ I thought I heard- never mind where is Tom?” You asked crossing your arms.

“ he’s unavailable Y/n I really think you should leave” she stated. She still hadn’t opened the door up, as if she was hiding something. “ and if we are being honest here, I really don’t think yours and Tom’s friendship is appropriate anymore”

Bitch what?

“ well with all due respect Taylor I don’t care what you think right now I want to know where Tom is” you snapped back . Seconds later you heard someone sniffle, as if they were crying. You quickly pushed open to door to see Tom in the living room on the couch. “TOM” you yelled, making him look up. You couldn’t believe your eyes. He had tears in his eyes with a wet wash cloth up ahi sat his nose, blood lover the wash cloth.

“ what the FUCK did you do to him!?” You yelled, pushing Taylor back with both hands against her chest.

“ y/n Stop!” Tom yelled but before you had even realized what you were doing , your hands were clenched in fists, swinging at Taylor. You were fuming, adrenaline pumping through your body as you kept swinging at her. She tried to fight you off by kicking your leg at you and pushing at your arms but to no avail.

“ y/n stop please!l Tom yelled while wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you in the air off of Taylor.

“ you can fucking have him” she cried out while getting up, wiping the blood up off her nose . “ you’re fucking psycho!” She yelled at you before grabbing her purse and keys, running outside.

“ are you okay?” He asked brushing your face out of your hair while you tried catching your breath.

“ she didn’t even touch me Tom” you said looking back at him, dried up blood on the edge of his nostrils. “ are you okay?” You asked putting your hands around his face.

“ I -I don’t know what happened y/n” he said reminiscing back to their argument. “ she was just so mad and jealous and I told her I couldn’t do it anymore, that she couldn’t keep pushing everyone and way and she just snapped” he said running his fingers through his hair stressfully. “ I told her to calm down and she started shoving stuff off of the night stands. I mean she broke my lamp that my dad got me. and when I grabbed her arm to get her to stop she just .. she hit me” he said sitting down on the couch. He lowered his head down into his hands, his breath trembling as he tried to hold back the tears.

“ this is not your fault Tom. She was possessive and toxic as shit and I am so so sorry” you said hugging him from the side. You both cried together for a few moments in silence . He didn’t deserve a lick of this .

“ what if she calls the police, or-or tells the press” he stated frantically. You could tell he was panicking but you just grabbed his face making him look at you.

“ Tom look at me , it’s two against one. She hit you! You never touched her. Anyone and everyone who knows you knows you’d never lay a finger on her or anyone at that matter” you stated , rubbing your thumb against your cheek. “ I love you so much” your voice started trembling as you wanted to cry. “ I will never ever let another woman hurt you like that again Tom. I should’ve intervened back when she started showing signs “ you said shaking yourself .

“ this isn’t your fault Y/N it’s my fault for staying” he exclaimed trying to take the blame off of yourself.

“ no” you said sternly. “ this is all on her okay . Tom she’s a horrible person” . You quickly wrapped your hands around him, holding tight onto him.

“ I don’t ever want to lose you” he said softly, slowly pulling his head away from yours. “ you’re so perfect” he said staring at your lips. Before you could even think you leaned in , pressing your lips against his.

“ I-I’m sorry” you stuttered as you pulled away. He shook his head before leaning back in kissing you again. This time it was more heated than before. Your hands found there way through his hair, tugging slightly while your tongues moved along each others.

“ owe” Tom said breaking the make out session.

“ oh I’m sorry” you exclaimed , realizing you were bumping into his nose. “ cmon we’ll clean that up”.

he followed you into his bedroom towards his bathroom where you both had to step over the knocked over items and broken glass from the lamp.

“ sit” you demanded pointing towards the counter. Tom propped himself up against it while you used a wet wash cloth wiping away the dry blood from his nose. While you focused on cleaning him, you felt his hand trailing up the sides of your thigh, moving closer and closer towards your throbbing area. You felt shivers run through your body as his fingers glided so easily up your body.

“ Tom” you whispered, leaning your forehead against his.

“I want you” he whispered back, his hand now placed firmly against your heat. You gasped loudlyas you felt him rub upwards against you, causing friction that you didn’t realized you craved so much. “ please” he said before cocking his head to the side, his lips connecting with yours once again. You quickly tossed down the wash cloth before grabbing the sides of Toms face, while his moved to the back of your thighs. He quickly switched places with you propping you up against the countertop this time, his tooth brush and cologne falling off the the side. You only broke your kiss for a second while he pulled his shirt off over his head , only to connect lips again. You reached behind your back unzipping your dress as Tom kissed down your neck to your collar bones , sucking on the skin slightly.

“ Tom” you said in between kisses.

“Yeah”

“ your pants” you suggested while tugging at the top of his jeans .

“ oh “ he said scooting back before sliding down his pants and briefs. Your eyes wired as his thick long cock bounced back up against his stomach. Your eyes roaming his whole now naked figure in front of you. He had the body of a literal God. “ lift your hips” he said while tugging against yours . You giggled as he almost pulled you off of the counter trying to pull your dress and panties down your legs.

“ condom?” You questioned, looking around. He nodding before opening the bottom cabinet door, pulling a box of condoms out.

“ you ready?l he asked, lifting your legs up over his arms. You nodded quickly looking him in the eyes. You both moaned out loudly as he he slid himself in you only to pull himself back out. You leaned your back against the mirror as Tom went in and out of you at a rapid pace, your breast bouncing with each thrust. The bathroom echoed with moans and the sounds of your skin slapping together, the mirror steaming up from your hot breaths. You reached down, your hand on his abs as the muscles flexed with each thrust.

“ god Tom” you screamed out as one of his hands found their way to your clit, rubbing fast in circular motions. You could feel yourself getting close so you wrapped your legs around Toms waste, pulling him deeper. Watching you climax sent Tom over, his moan becoming deep and long. You both road out your orgasms before Tom pulled o if, tossing the filled condom in the trash.

“ wow” you beamed sliding off of the counter.

“ why didn’t we do that sooner?” He asked while getting himself dressed. You shrugged sliding your panties but up.

“ cause I wasn’t beating any of your girlfriends ass “ you joked looking back up.

“ well maybe there won’t be anymore girls “ he said making the conversation go from casual to serious. You furrowed your eyebrows together, cocking your head to the side in confusion. “ y/n you’ve been there for me through everything . “ he exclaimed . “ literally. You know me the best , you’re beautiful, smart .. you’re just perfect” he said grabbing your hands. “ I’ve realized no one can make me as happy as you do” he said pulling you close . You thought about it . All your past relationships never worked out either, you were never fully happy with them , especially not as happy as you were with Tom.

“ so what are you suggesting ? “ you said grinning.

“ be mine” he said. “ not just my best friend “

You thought for a moment, pretending to hesitate on the question , laughing when you realized he was becoming worried.

“ of course Tom”

******

Let me know if you guys want an opposite version of this, where you’re in the toxic relationship and he’s the best friend. 💖



[pinkiemme]

NO DROIDS | CH. 2 (Mando x F!Reader)

Summary: Up until now Y/N has lived faithful to her morality. Much to your displeasure, you’re about to change that due to a certain Mandalorian showing up in your life.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Here’s the second part!! It will probably have 11 chapters, hope you like it!! 

PART 1

Mando had been stuck in Tatooine for longer than he had expected. You were slowly – too slow for his liking – working on his ship, and although he won’t admit it, he liked watching you as you fixed the Razor Crest. But still he was irritated, watching you getting under his ship just to get out empty handed. He was starting to get anxious with the whole situation. After all, you seemed really close to that jawa clan, and nobody could assure him that you weren’t trashing his ship up instead of fixing it. The fact that you interacted with your droids with such trustful eyes didn’t exactly help your cause, if not, it only got you to look worse in Mando’s eyes. 

He was looking at you from afar while you worked, the baby taking a nap inside the ship. And although your back was turned towards him he could hear your laugh – your stupid droid besides you – and felt his body going rigid and hot at the sound. With a curse on his tongue he got closer to you, silently, until his body was just behind you, beskar almost touching your back. Your laugh stopped abruptly the moment you heard his voice that close to you, not noticing until then how close he had gotten. “What are you laughing at?” his voice sounded firm and you turned your face to look at his visor and shrugged your shoulders, biting your bottom lip. You didn’t know how to answer him, mesmerized by the way the sun shined on his helmet, the blinding light captivating you. “Then go back to work.” Nodding your head you got back to work, while your droid beeped something to you.

 You could feel him still hovering over you and when he finally started to get away from you and you felt your shoulder relax you heard him bickering something, quietly. You turned on your heels fast and yelled in a mocking tone at his retreating form. “What was that, Mando?” Your voice stopped him on his track, and you saw his broad shoulders tense at the tone in your voice  as he answered without looking back at you. “Nothing, get back to work.” You felt the air leaving your lungs in a long sigh, smile pestered on your face as you continued teasing him. “No, please, entertain me…” handing your tools to your droid, you walked towards him, his back facing you. He didn’t move, staying quiet, hearing your steps getting closer to him. When you were close enough you could reach your arm and touch his back you kept talking “What did you say, Mando?” you poked the hot beskar on his back while you talked, your brow now furrowed. 

He could feel the pressure of your finger lingering on his back, your hand still there after you were done poking at him. For a brief moment he felt his mind wandering,– how would it feel to have your whole palm pressed against his back. His exhale was strong enough you heard it through the modulator on his helmet, but other than that he didn’t make a sound. You finally dropped your hand from his body and Mando could feel his body relax instantly. He just wasn’t used to anyone besides the kid touching him without wanting to hurt him. That was what got him so tense.

When you talked again he turned to face you, his visor aimed at your face, your brow still furrowed, you weren’t teasing him anymore. “I asked you a question.” Your voice was steadier than you expected, feeling intimidated by him, he was big, and his chest was so close to you that you couldn’t see past him, your senses surrounded by him. You were even able to smell the metal scent of the beskar, almost savouring it on your tongue. Without being aware of it you licked your bottom lip for a split second, not breaking your steady look on his helmet.

He looked at your lips, glistening with the humidity your tongue had left there, and gulped, – it was too frickin’ hot on this planet. He moved his own tongue inside his mouth, feeling how dry it was before he started talking to you. “I said, are you sure you’re not going to steal anything from my ship and go back to those disgusting jawas.” It wasn’t exactly a question, his tone sharp and deep. And it was probably the most he had actually talked to you since you started working on the Razor Crest. You huffed, irritation clear in your eyes. “Are you out of your mind? If I wanted to stole something it sure wouldn't by anything from this piece of junk!” You crossed your arms, trying not to start poking at him again now that he was facing you. “Oh yeah? What would you steal then?” he barked back at you, his voice getting louder and taking a step closer to you, forcing you to look up to keep your eyes on his visor. You were breathing hard now, Mando could see your chest rising and falling if he looked down, without moving his head, helmet still. 

He looked back at your face when you answered, your voice straining with an emotion he couldn't quite decipher. “I would steal your frickin’ shiny beskar.” His eyes got wide at your answer and roamed over your face, trying to find something that told him if you were being serious. “Or maybe that stupid metal crib you keep the kid on.” you spitted your words now, angry with him and pressing your folded arms hard against your ribcage to stay still. Before you got a chance to notice his movements your arm was between his grasp, fingers curled around your soft flesh there. A loud grunt escaped Mando’s lips and he talked between greeted teeth. “Repeat that, if you have a death wish.” You could barely hear him, his breath too loud on his modulator and your blood ringing on your ears, his touch burning your skin. 

Suddenly, you stopped feeling his hand on your arm and you could hear him hiss, letting go of your arm quickly. Looking down to your arm, you saw your droid, it had shocked Mando with one of his tools. A second later Mando had his blaster aimed at your droid, the barrel touching its head. After that, it all happened too quickly, you almost didn’t have time to process anything. You reached your hand towards the blaster, holding it roughly, your knuckles getting white with the force you were using. With your free hand your pushed your droid, knocking him to the ground and then you put your body between the droid and Mando, hand still around his blaster. 

“Get out of the way!” He barked, voice loud while he pushed his blaster forward, until it was pressing against your belly. You could only shake your head, not sure your voice would work, feeling a lump in your throat that didn’t even let you swallow, pulsating against your neck. Mando lowered his helmet to the side of your face and whispered his next words to your ear. “Out. Now.” You whimpered, your hand going numb with how hard you were holding the blaster against your belly, your lips trembling. Still you found your voice again and spoke to him with venom on your tone “Or what, you’ll kill me too? And then what? Your ship will still need repairs, and nobody will want to help a sickening tin man whose hands are stained with blood.” 

Your words have him shoving you out of the way, making you yelp as the blaster slips through your fingers, the metal scraping against your skin, breaking it. And then Mando grabs the droid with his free hand and starts to walk past you, dragging it with him, raising the sand around him on his way, and leaving you coughing behind him.  

You go after him still coughing, swallowing the sand he leaves on his way. “Mando, stop! Leave him alone!” You beg, still following him, leaving the Razor Crest behind and going straight into the dunes, sand all around you. “Please!” You feel your eyes watering, but you don’t know if its because of the sand getting on your eyes or because of the sting on your palm, blood starting to flood through your skin. 

Your body goes still and you stop pleading him to stop when you hear a blaster go off, you think your breath stops, mouth agape, and the sound resonating on your ears. “Get down!” You hear Mando shout at you as another blaster goes off, you can see him running towards you, droid dropped on the sand behind him, and it’s then you feel the pain on your side. You gasp for air to return to your lungs, falling to your knees. “What…? Mando?” You reach your hand towards him as he finally gets to you, sliding to his knees before reaching you. “Tusken Raiders.” You say to Mando as your hand grabs his arm, eyes wide, looking at the sun shining on his helmet, feeling needles stabbing on your side with every breath you take. 

“Haar’chack” he curses under his breath, helmet fixed on your face. He shoots his blaster to the side killing a tusken raider with one hand while the others stars to grab this rifle at his back, still looking at you. He feels his blood boiling inside his body just looking at you, your eyes so wide and your mouth open, struggling to breath. You could be dying right now for all he knew, and yet you kept your eyes open, watching him. He could feel your hand on his arm getting under his beskar plates, touching him behind his armor, roaming your fingers on his shoulder. His breath hitched as he kept shooting his rifle, his eyes leaving your face to concentrate on getting the two of you out of here.

Your hand on his arm made him feel steady, as long as he could feel your fingers on him he had the certainty you were still alive, not being able to hear your breath with all the guns going off and the sound of the bullets hitting beskar. “M-mando… look at me…” He hears your soft voice – so soft – against all the chaos, it shouldn't be able to be that soft, or to make his heart hammer this hard against his chest. 

He tilted his helmet briefly to look at your face, eyes still wide. Your hand falls from his arm and he fully turns his helmet to you, gasping loudly at the loss of contact. And then you reach again for him, this time resting your fingers on the side of his helmet. Mando flinches, wanting to get your hand away from his helmet, not being comfortable with it. “The ship… I…” He furrows his brow behind the helmet at your words. “Don’t worry about the ship!” He speaks so loud you wince at the sound. He’s at the verge of panic, you were probably dying, – stars, maybe you both died here, he could feel pain all over his body now – and you were worried about his fricking ship! 

He looked to the side, shooting his rifle once more. If he wanted to get the both of you out of here he needed to do something. “No… listen to me…” You turned his helmet towards your face with your trembling hand before talking again, softly “It’s fixed.” What? You reached your other arm to him and grabbed his helmet with both your hands, caressing the metal with your thumbs, it was so shiny. “Go.” You drop your hands at your sides and press your head against his chest, gasping with each breath you take. “Go.” You repeated to him before passing out against his body.

He grabs you and flips you over his shoulder, like a potato bag and starts to run towards his ship, shooting at everything with his blaster, while his other arm was around your hip, holding you against him. He got to the ship fast, and dropped you to the ground as soon as he was inside, running to the cockpit, and glancing at the kid – still napping –  inside his crib. He felt his body heating up with each second that passed, not sure if you were still alive, laying unconscious on the ground of his ship.  And not being able to check up on you until you were in a safe place.

He took off into the space, taking the controllers of the ship without even sitting on the pilot seat, and as fast as he could he put in coordinates and went into hyperspace. Once the lights hit his eyes he fell to the floor with a loud knock, and sat there, helmet against the control panel, leaving shuddering breaths through his lips, trying to compose himself before going down the ladder to check up on you. You were still alive. You had to be. You got hurt bad, and it was all because of him and his stupid hate towards those insufferable droids.

[embeanwrites]

Finding Home Gavin Reed x Reader

Chapter 4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

I woke up thankful I had only had two drinks the previous night. I looked at my clock, 9 am. I groaned and got up to shower and get ready. Today I wanted to be in my office before Nines arrived. Maybe I could find some of my old papers and get his opinion on them.

I made it to my office at 10:30, with no sign of Nines. I unlocked my office and began logging onto my computer. I had set my phone facing down and sighed. I had already finished my first five power points for the class and what readings I was going to assign. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to keep working on power points so it’s less to do later on.

Time seemed to fly by until I heard a knock on the door. Startled, I jumped up.

“Jumpy much, pipsqueak?” I looked back and forth between Gavin and Nines. Why were they both here? Before I could even ask they both sat down and Gavin tossed me a brown paper bag filled with fast food. Nines sat straight up in his chair while Gavin lounged and put his feet on my desk while taking a bit of his burger. “Figured if Nines was gonna be bothering you during lunch the least I could do is get you some food for dealing with him.”

“Well, thank you for the food,” I said as a I began to sit back down and emptied the contents of the bag. It was my go-to order from (favorite fast food place). How did he know? “But Nines isn’t bothering me. I enjoy talking about my research.” Nines gave Gavin a side glance.

“Detective Reed, it’s impolite to put your feet on (Y/n)’s desk.”

“Oh, you two are on a first name basis?” Gavin asked as he settled his feet on the ground. I rolled my eyes.

“Detective Reed, you can call me (Y/n) too.”

“Call me Gavin.”

“How did you know what to get me?” I asked, taking a bite.

“Connor told me.” He grumbled, suddenly more interested in the wall. I couldn’t help but smile. He went through the trouble of asking Connor? 

“So, Nines what did you want to discuss today?” I said, taking my eyes off of Gavin and looking at Nines.

“I was curious about what your class will be covering, SOC 345: Android and Human Relationships. It’s new, correct?”

“Yes, it is new. I’ve been working on material and the syllabus all summer. It’s been difficult finding different readings that I didn’t write. The point of the class is to show the changing relationship between androids and humans and where it can go. We’ll probably cover news stories as they come up as well. If we have time, I may cover some of the laws, but I’m still unsure.”

“If you don’t have a lot of readings what are you going to do?” Gavin asked through a mouthful of food.

“I still have some contacts who used to work at Cyberlife, so maybe they’ll be able to come speak to the class. It’s a Tuesday and Thursday class, so at least I don’t have to plan something for everyday. Maybe you guys or my dad and Connor could talk to my class.” I let out a short laugh. The idea of my dad trying to answer college kids questions about how he feels about androids sounded hilarious.

“I’m down.” Nines and I gave Gavin a bewilderment look.

“Detective Reed, I have never seen you go out of your way to help others in a way that doesn’t directly benefit yourself.” Gavin gave Nines a sharp glare.

“I do things for other people all the time! Besides, I’m pretty sure I could get Fowler to give me the day off for something like that.”

“Ah, there’s the benefit.” I said with a laugh. “But I would appreciate it. I’m not sure if that’s the way I’m going to go, but I’ll let you two know.” I took a couple bites of the food Gavin brought me. “Do you have any other questions?” I asked Nines through a mouthful of food. His LED flashed yellow for a second.

“I believe it’s your turn.”

“Oh yeah, let’s see… what’s something you think I should cover in my class?” Nines paused before answering me.

“I do not know what all you’re specifically covering, but I think it may be worth spending time on Markus.” Nines suggested, as Gavin tensed.

“Of course we’re going to talk about Markus! Actually, one of my Cyberlife contacts made him as a gift for Carl Manfred. I’ve always suspected he put something different in Markus’ code, but he’s never admitted to it.” I looked over at Gavin, he was glaring down at the ground with his lips tightly placed together. Did I say something that made him upset?

“We should head back to the precinct, Nines.” Gavin abruptly stood up, his chair scraping against the floor and started gathering the trash from lunch.

“Detective Reed, it is only 11:30, we have at least twenty minutes before we should head back. We have time to continue this conversation.” Nines said as he stood up slowly and looked intently at Gavin.

“We have cases to work on. You’re always on my back to get my work done and now you’re giving me shit for trying to do my work!”

“Gavin, I’m sorry if I said something that upset you. I honestly didn’t mean to. Please you guys can stay, we can talk about something else.” I tried and for a second, he looked back at me and I sensed he wanted to stay.

“I have work to do.” He murmured and left my office. Nines quickly looked back at me.

“I will not be able to visit tomorrow. Goodbye Dr. (L/n).” Nines quickly left my office and followed Gavin. I sighed and sat back down. I looked at the food Gavin had brought me, suddenly not hungry. I thought I was making progress with Nines, only to lose it almost immediately and I had no idea what was going on with Gavin. Did he have problems with Markus? Maybe he knew my Cyberlife contact.

I picked up my phone looking to see if I had any messages. I didn’t. Maybe I should text Elijah to see if he knew Gavin, but by the way Gavin reacted I don’t want to accidentally burn my bridge with my best Cyberlife contact. I decided to send Tina a text to see if she wanted to come over tonight, maybe I could get some answers out of her.

 Hey, you wanna come over tonight? Pizza and drinks?

 Oh hell yeah, I get off at 6. Send me your address and I’ll be there. I’ll get the drinks, you get the pizza?

 You know it! See ya then.

  After getting home, I placed an order for a large cheese pizza and straightened up my apartment waiting for Tina. Honestly there wasn’t much to clean, but I felt too nervous to just sit and do nothing. When the pizza came it gave me something to do. I placed it on the coffee table and turned on something random for background noise. Finally there was a knock at the door and I raced over and opened it.

“Hey you! I brought hard cider, that okay?” I gestured for Tina to come inside. Her long black hair was pulled into a ponytail and she was wearing a gray flannel with cuffed jeans.

“Of course that’s okay! The pizza’s on the table, let me go grab some plates and a bottle opener.” I walked over to my small kitchen. Tina let out a low whistle.

“Dang this place is small.”

“I know, but it’s just me here. Here’s a plate.” Tina took the plate and we both grabbed two slices of pizza. We sat on the couch across from each other with our legs intertwined.

“Man, I’ve missed you. It’s not every day that your best friend finally moves back home.” Tina said through a mouthful of pizza. I opened one of the apple ciders and took a swig.

“I know, it’s long overdue. I just needed time to figure life out I guess.” I mused.

“And yeah? What did you learn?”

“That grad school is expensive.” I laughed and Tina snorted.

“Okay, smartass. I wanted to ask you yesterday, but why did you come back now? I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you’re back, but it seems so sudden.” Tina set down her plate and looked at me intently. I sighed and set my plate down too. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

“It’s a combination of things, I guess. I’m excited to have my own course at WSU, it was the best offer I received. I miss my mom and my best memories of her are in Detroit. My dad is the only family I have left now.” I sat back up and looked at Tina, she had a sad look in her eyes. “I want to give Detroit another chance.” I gave her a small smile.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back.” Tina bumped her leg into mine.

“I’m glad to be back.” I took a sip of the cider, Gavin’s little outburst in my office still on my mind. “Hey, I have a question.” Tina cocked a brow at me. 

“Shoot.”

“Does Gavin have some weird beef with Cyberlife?”

“I mean, he doesn’t really talk about his past. I know he hates androids. He’s warmed up to Nines, but even then, he’s still rude to him. Why?”

“He came to my office today with Nines. He even brought me lunch. I thought the conversation was going well, but when Nines asked about Markus he got really tense and then left.” Tina looked at me with a small smile. “What?”

“You like him, and from the sound of it, he likes you too.” I scoffed.

“Just because I care about someone’s feelings doesn’t mean I like them and I literally told him off in front of the whole precinct, I highly doubt he likes me.” Tina jumped up and started dancing.

“(Y/n) and Gavin sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g!” I laughed as she pulled me up to dance with her.

“I’ve known him for two days and all my interactions with him have kind of sucked.” Tina stopped dancing and grabbed my face.

“(Y/n), Gavin doesn’t talk to new people. Let alone bring them food for lunch and take drink recommendations.” I laughed.

“Alright, alright. I’m not saying I don’t like him, but I don’t know him enough. Besides, he seems to have…baggage.” Tina’s hands left my face and sat on my shoulders.

“Give him a chance (Y/n). You have to have a date for my wedding!” Tina stuck out her bottom lip and I laughed.

“We’ll see, come on let’s eat that pizza before it gets cold.” We both sat back on the couch and continued catching up. I had forgotten how much I missed being around Tina. I added her to my list of reasons to be happy about coming back to Detroit.

[katsukikitten]

Meal for one

You groan silently as you slide agaisnt the kitchen counter. The microwaves hum the only sound. Your body screams as you reach for your water and you snarl at the audacity of the bottle to be placed so far away.

Training was getting harder and longer. Especially now that your third year was quickly approaching. Lucky enough to still be with your friends, well more your family now, that was class 1A. You had been late to dinner tonight, well more like every night since your second year ended, you were studying and working your ass off in training to try to keep up with your amazing peers.

One more so than the others. Not that he would notice.

At least not anymore.

You are so lost in thought that it takes you several seconds to realize that the microwave is counting down from five.

You try to catch the microwave just before it ding but sadly the sound seems to echo in the overly sized kitchen as you growl to it to shut the fuck up.

When you remove your meal with unsated anticipation, eager to eat as you haven't had the chance all day. Your stomach growls audibly as you set the burning hot container on the counter.

You pull back the flimsy film all for your mood to sour.

Your little meal for one was cooked far too long, it needed only three minutes but you hit eight by mistake in your haste. And it didnt help that the display on the appliance only half worked.

You stared at the sorry shrivelled up pieces of chicken in the now mushy brocolli and fought back your frustrated, exhausted, borderline giving up on this whole hero thing tears.

All you wanted to do was eat your pathetic meal and get some rest before the new semester started tomorrow.

Was that too much to fucking ask?

The universe seemed to think so.

"Oi." His voice calls behind you and you stiffen.

The voice of the boy, well now becoming man, that you've been avoiding since that accidental and very drunken kiss at the beginning of the summer at that party that Mina just had to fucking have.

"Why are you making so much damn noise? I can hear you all the way in the living room." He growls and you sigh.

The two of you could have been called friends.

ONCE.

But no longer.

Suddenly you're brought back to the party.  The loud music of the memory competes with the heart beat in your head as you see his perfect face.

The room spins, you giggle placing your lips so quickly onto his after confessing.

"I've always wanted to fuck you Katsuki-kun. But not that one and done shit either."

He stiffens beneath your lips, pushing you harshly and you stare at his face.

Contorted in horror and rage.

You really fucked it all up.

You tongue your cheek damning your brain for being such a glutton for punishment.

"Yea yea I know this fucking extra does it all wrong all the time." You bite trying hard to control your voice. You slam your meal into the trash as deep red eyes follow your movements.

"You cooked it to trash it? You idiot." He spits and you grip the counter top to keep yourself from encircling your hands on his throat.

"Yea, that's how I eat now. Burn it to fuck all and then have sleep for dinner." A bitter laugh escapes your lips before your voice betrays you.

You clear your throat, keeping your head down while burning tears spill onto your cheeks as you start to make your way past the muscular hot head. Youd sell a part of your soul to have Toru's quirk right about now.

Sadly you do not and Bakugou grips so tightly onto the crook of your arm you'd think he was apprehending a criminal.

You make the mistake of giving him a harsh glare out of instinct, eyes still rimmed with defeated tears. You watch as his eyes narrow to slits.

As if he could see into that fucked up head of yours.

He pulls you back harshly and slams you against the counter top. The handles to the lower cabinets bite into your ass and you half yelp before gripping onto his arm tightly.

"Bakugou." You growl so lowly you feel him tense, "I'm not in the mood."

"Nether am I." He stares into your soul for a moment more before he lifts you light as a feather onto the countertop, he forces your legs open so his body can fit arms trapping you on either side.

So close that the sides of his thumbs dig into your thick thighs and hips.

He looks you over in your next to nothing training outfit of a sports bra and too tight too short shorts.  He takes silent note of your skin tone and how it is lackluster when normally you glow after a work out. His eyes find the deep bags beneath your own next before he sucks his teeth at how far you've let your body down.

Pushing it to exhaustion and not even fueling it properly.  He butts his forehead to yours angrily and with enough gusto that a bruise begins to form on both yours and his third eye chakra.

"Ow what the fuck?!" You rub at it harshly.

"Dont. Fucking. Move." He says as he backs away, eyes glued to you before he turns his back to rummage in the fridge.

He makes quick work of starting some sort of PROPER meal for you as you sit by the stove top, for once obeying his command.

Though you'd do anything to take back that kiss and have your normal rapport of teasing back. Your blush is delayed as you realize how close he made himself to you, at how close his lips were and you feel the ghost of his thumbs in your hips.

You swallow your desire as his horrified face flashes in your mind. You distract yourself easily as you watch him saute the chicken perfectly slowly adding the vegetables before adding the bean sprouts last. He opens the cabinet to grab a fresh plate only to be greeted by an empty shelf.

"Fucking really?" He hisses staring at the overwhelming pile of dishes in the sink. You begin to ease yourself down from the counter to wash a plate.

It's the least you can do considering he made you a whole damn meal at 1130 at night. Sacrificing his favorite movie for your shitty sake.

Your movement alerts him and he whips his head faster than you've ever seen him before.

"Didn't I tell you not to fucking move?" His expression matches his tone, dark. You hoist yourself back onto the counter  before placing your hands up in surrender.

He grumbles as he cleans and dries your dish and utensils before finally plating the dish with such meticulous detail that it should be served in a restaurant instead of to you. You sigh reaching for the fork and reluctantly take a bite.

You moan from the delicious melding of flavor before your scarf the whole meal down.

You're so absorbed in your meal that you almost forget about Bakugou even as he moves around the kitchen to clean his mess. You dance as you eat, taking bite after mouth watering bite. You pout audibly when your fork scrapes agaisnt an empty dish.

"Heh." The sound pulls you from your bliss and you're met with a staring Bakugou. Suddenly you are hyperaware of the whole situation.

Katsuki didn't cook for anybody and you couldn't remember the last time he had cooked for just you. You shrug it off as you think of something clever.

"So what do I owe you for the meal?" You tease leaning closer to him as he watches you.

"A kiss." He retorts with a cruel smile as you look away.

Cheeks burning with rage and embarrassment.

"I..." You swallow your pride, "I'm sorry okay Bakugou?"

"What?" He snaps.

"I said I was sorry Bakugou don't play deaf."

"Not that." A hiss, "What is my name?"

"Bakugou." You say slowly as if he were dumb to which his eyes narrow.

"Try again, Y/N"

You glare, dumbfounded, you hadn't spoken to him majority of the summer. Hell youd barely been in the same room as him and so suddenly he wants you to say his name?

"Katsuki." You offer dryly after his stare does not let up. He gives you a look as if expecting more. You snarl before biting out.

"Katsuki-kun."

"That's not how you normally say it but I guess I can still reward you." He produces your favorite chocolate, the kind that's hard to find and your eyes widen.

"Ah so I did remember right." He teases as you reach for it. He pushes agaisnt your stomach until you stop leaning on him to get that damn sweet treat.

"Please Katsuki-kun?" You allow that old softness into your voice that you only reserved for him. He stops for a moment, making good work at hiding the heat creeping on his cheeks as a mean smile sets on his kissable lips. He positions himself back between your legs, your knees rest slightly onto his hips.

"Open wide." He says placing a single square onto your outstretched tongue. When you moan from the melting chocolate and close your eyes he bites his lip.

He had almost forgotten all about the sparkle in your eyes, the way your voice said his name like a prayer and the sounds that you made.

He swallows thickly as you hold out your tongue for more.

He pushes thoughts of you like that on your knees away. Biting the inside of his lip and damning you for kissing him that day.

For opening the flood gates on what he was so desperately fighting against.

"This time close your eyes and keep your mouth shut."

"Why?"

"Just do it." You obey and wait eagerly for more chocolate. You do not feel him shift beneath you and you grow impatient and a little self conscious as you worry he is staring at you despite only a few seconds ticking by.

Suddenly you feel warmth on your lips as his have captured yours and you cannot help but moan against him as his hands squeeze onto your thighs. He nips at your bottom lip for entrance to which you oblige. His hands work up and down your frame before one finds the hair at the nape of your neck, fisting it to deepen the kiss.  Your hands fly for his shirt, desperately moving beneath it to do what you've always dreamt of doing.  Running them along his chiseled chest.

You kiss for awhile, long enough that by the time he is done you're both panting, adoring swollen lips.  You flush.

"Ba.." He gives you a look and you clear your throat, "Katsuki-kun what was that for?"

"For dinner dumbass." He says kissing you a final time before leaving you in the kitchen by yourself.

Your fingers fly to your lips and you think about how he tastes much sweeter than any chocolate you've ever fucking had.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Jigsaw // Red: Part One

Valhalla 

A/N: Picking up right where we left off with Blue (which you can find on the Billy Russo page of my masterlist). Billy’s on the run and needs to find a place to hide out while he comes up with a plan. 

Warnings: character death

Word Count: 3,730

.

Left. He hit the sidewalk and immediately turned, shifting himself sideways to disappear down the alley. Go, go, go. Legs turning over with perfect form, he ran between the buildings, a blur of red brick on one side, pale gray concrete on the other. The sound of his breathing drowned out everything but the voice in his head telling him where to turn. Right. Coming through to the next street, he spun, socked feet splashing through a puddle of condensation from the A.C. unit in the window above. Alley, now. A trash bag lay across the opening of the narrow space. Jump it. Right leg extended, he vaulted over the garbage heap, springing off his coiled left calf and landing in stride, continuing to run without missing a beat. An aluminum chain link fence greeted him at the end of the alley, and he quickly calculated the necessary motion to climb it. Wait! Back pressed against the grime covered wall, he held his breath in the shadows as two police cruisers flew by, sirens wailing. He counted to ten, waiting to see if any more were in pursuit. He could hear more sirens joining in from other parts of the city, but for now the way was clear. Go, up and over. Securing the folder inside his zipped sweatshirt, he jumped and gripped the fence with both hands, fingers curling through the wire diamonds. He pulled himself up with ease, throwing one leg and then the other over the top and landing hard on the soles of his feet.  

Keep fuckin’ going. Listening to the commanding voice in his head, Billy immediately took off running again. His lungs were on fire and he had a cramp in his gut but just like in an active warzone, he knew that he couldn’t rest until he’d reached the checkpoint. Not that he had one in mind when he broke free, but as he scaled the fence he realized that his legs were taking him to a specific location- an abandoned warehouse in Red Hook. Of course. He coughed, wheezing slightly as he pushed himself to follow his feet as fast as he could. Of course that’s where I’m goin’. He reverted back to auto pilot, following the commands to make turns and slip through alleys, allowing his thoughts to traverse the labyrinth in his brain like a mouse in a maze, desperate for the cheese. With a wince and a jerk of his head, a memory tumbled to the frontlines as he got closer to his destination.   

 ..  .. ..  .. .. ..  .. 

‘S’just an idea I had,” Billy shrugged and shoved his burger haphazardly into his mouth, filling it with food so he’d have an excuse not to elaborate too much. You watched him from across the retro red table, tapping your thumbnail against the grooved aluminum edge.

  “It’s a great idea, Billy,” you’d said encouragingly, French fry suspended over your plate, a dollop of ketchup plopping off the end of it.

 He chewed around a small smile, keeping his eyes on you as he reached for the pebbled plastic soda glass in front of him. He swallowed the bite he’d taken and chased it down with a few loud slurps of his drink before setting what was left of his lunch back on his plate. “I dunno about great,” he said with a minute shift of his shoulders. “Still got a lot of work to do. Gonna need investors and warehouse space and-“

You stopped tapping at the aluminum trim and stretched your hand across the small two top booth to grip his, giving a light squeeze. “Yeah,” you said with a nod. “Yeah, you got a lot of work to do. But the idea is a good one, and a lot of good people will benefit from it.”

She gets it. He cleared his throat and sniffed, nose wrinkling up. “Yeah, I mean… just thinkin’ about guys like me’n Frankie. Guys that gave decades of their lives to the military. Guys that need to have somethin’ to fall back on when they get home… what kinda jobs are gonna hire 38 year olds with no experience, ya know?” He was talking mainly about Frank, but he wasn’t far behind his friend in terms of age or the things he was willing to risk as that number went up.“Give ‘em a chance to use the skills they have instead’a tryin’ to scramble to fit in to some 9-5…” Let ‘em be with guys who understand…

 “So what do you have to do then, Billy? How do you make this happen?” You’d pushed your plate aside to give him your full attention, one hand still linked with his over the scarlet and silver boomerang patterned laminate.

He’d hesitated to tell you about his idea of starting his own private security company, because saying it out loud meant that it was real. Telling you about it was essentially sealing a promise to himself...and to you, that he’d make it work, and he wasn’t sure that he could. But the way that you asked those questions, with nothing but clarity and belief in your tone, the way your hand never left his, it made him feel like maybe it wasn’t so crazy. Maybe I can. “Well, I gotta figure out how much I need to get started. Equipment, endorsements, facilities,” He ticked those off on the fingers of his free hand before his tongue came out to lick his lips.  ���I...actually, I looked into this one warehouse in Brooklyn already. Not that I’m expectin’ it to still be available when I’m ready to pull the trigger but… I wanted to look into the numbers.”

“Will you show it to me?” The excitement on your face pulled his cheeks up slowly, almost making him laugh.

“What?” He shook his head looking down at your hands. “Nah, you don’t wanna,” he looked back up to find that you hadn’t so much as blinked. “I only got two days left, you wanna waste one of ‘em in a dirty old building?” But even as he tried to talk you out of it, Billy realized that he did want to take you there.

The server came over then, coffee pot in one hand and stress written all over her tired face despite the fact that there were only three other occupied tables in the joint. “Get you two anything else?” The way she asked the question dictated what she hoped the answer would be.

Without missing a beat you turned to respond to the woman. “Nope, we’ll take the-” she dropped the puffy black check presenter on the table where it clapped together with a soft thud. “-check, thanks!” You pulled your hand from Billy’s and let him inspect the bill before he dug his wallet out, tucking some cash behind the curled thermal paper and then placing it on top of the dented silver napkin holder.

When he had returned his wallet to the back pocket of his dark jeans, you tilted your head and cocked one eyebrow. “What?” He asked, to which you’d only changed the angle of your chin. “Really?” Your smirk answered and he felt a swelling in his chest at your stubborn faith in him. “You’re serious.” That one wasn’t a question.

 You stood from the booth and wrapped your scarf around your neck before slipping your arms into the sleeves of your jacket. Billy did the same, following your lead. When you’d both donned your outerwear, you pulled your hair up and over the thick cable knit loops of your neck covering and bounced up on the balls of your feet to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I am, Russo.” Motioning toward the door and lacing your fingers with his, you licked your candy apple lips. “Lead the way, Billy.” 

 ..  .. ..  .. .. ..

His breathing picked up, uneven and ragged, fingers shaking as they clutched the rusty gate, swinging it open. The chase was over and his body reacted accordingly, heightened senses returning to normal levels, the adrenaline slowly draining from his blood. The greedy gulps of air he was taking would make him sick. He knew that, but there was nothing he could do. His survival instincts got him as far as they needed to before vanishing into the abyss, leaving him alone. Closing the gate behind him, Billy staggered through the fenced in loading dock of the abandoned warehouse, shoeless feet tripping on the cracks in the pavement where stubborn weeds were pushing through the concrete. Broken glass littered the ground as he got closer to the building, an entire pane having fallen from the third story, nothing but a few jagged spears remaining in the window frame.

The crunching, crashing sound of glass shattering echoed in his ears, forcing a wince and a pitiful hissing sound that was a mixture of pain and fear. Tearing his eyes from the fragments, he gripped the top of his head and shook it hard, jogging the sound and the visions that came with it from his mind. The blare of a bus horn from a few blocks away brought him back to the moment. Chest heaving, Billy gripped the folder that he’d tucked under his sweatshirt, confirming for the tenth time since his escape that he hadn’t lost it. What little relief was left for him trickled through his body as he finally reached the door and found it unlocked.

Tugging the handle he pulled it open, flakes of rust falling from the hinges as they creaked and screeched their disuse. The bottom of the door dragged over the concrete, scraping a crescent shape into the ground. He stumbled inside and yanked the door shut behind him, giving three hard pulls to close the stubborn portal. He kept moving, using the sunlight that filtered in through the thick, clouded windows to seek out the staircase on the near side of the vast and empty space. It had been over a year since he’d last been there, but he was confident that the steps hadn’t decayed past the point of use. Testing his weight on the bottom few he saw that he was right. He gripped the oxidized rails, the peeling metal rough against his palms as he climbed to the second floor, footsteps echoing in the vast, empty space.

This wasn’t Anvil’s home, but it might have been, almost was. There was more graffiti than there was the last time he’d set foot inside, depleted spray paint cans littering the ground and coming into view as he took the last few steps. The word Valhalla was scrawled across the bricks in the loft, accented with flames and shadows, a few broken, lumpy chairs and mattresses spread beneath the mural. The room had clearly been used as some kind of illegal den for drugs or other illicit activity, and simply hadn’t been cleaned out when the inhabitants had been dispatched. A rat scurried out from under one of the dilapidated pieces of furniture and found refuge inside of a potato chip bag in the corner. Billy stood before the painted wall. Valhalla. What a crock of shit. He recalled the way that he and his brothers in arms had often compared themselves to the Vikings, to the Gods of War, talking about valor and the glory that was waiting for them back home. There’s no glory left, no good death for me. He tore his eyes from the lettering and sank down onto one of the badly torn couches, a broken sound coming from his throat as he pulled the folder from where it was tucked beneath the zipper of his sweatshirt, letting it fall to the ripped cushion beside him, his head falling to hang between his hands.

Outside, the clouds shifted in the sky letting hazy afternoon light find its way through the damaged windows. It created a spotlight effect that drew his gaze to a hastily sprayed “X” on the floor in the center of the room, the splotchy ruby red paint scuffed from where careless boot soles had stepped over it. His mouth fell open, an incredulous breath bursting forth as he dragged his palms over the close cropped hair on top of his head, fingers curling around the helix of his ears and memory hurtling back to the last time that he’d been in that building.

..  .. ..  .. .. .. 

You reached the door before he did, both hands gripping the chunky steel door handle, eagerly trying to tug it open but struggling to do so. He watched your shoulders hunch up as you tried to pull harder before you turned to look back at him. The excitement on your face would have been more suited to opening the door to a luxury suite in a gilded mansion than a rundown old paint factory with more broken panes of glass on the floor than existed in the window frames, but he knew it was there and it was real. Because she loves me. That simple, overwhelming thought was the hardest thing he’d ever wrapped his head around. He shook his head as his lips parted, one side quirking upwards involuntarily. “Easy there killer, lemme do that.” Billy reached passed you and grabbed the handle, a flush of warmth flooding his veins as you leaned back into his chest, your fingers falling away from the door as he gave a hard pull to pry it open, the bottom scraping the ground. “Still can’t believe this is what you wanna-“

  You turned quickly and pressed two fingers, skin chilled from the early spring air, against his lips to silence him. “Believe it. This is where I wanna be. Nowhere else. Now,” You winked at him and turned back towards the darkened entry that he’d just wrenched opened. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Mr. Russo, but you were going to take me on the tour of your new facility, were you not?” You started to take a step through the door when his arms quickly circled around your waist, stopping you. They flexed, tightening his hold and forcing a bubbly laugh to spill from your soul.

  “Yeah,” he brought his lips to your ear, pressing them to the flesh behind it. “Right this way, ma’am.” He unwound his arms and took your hand, carefully leading you into the building. The heavy door swung shut with a thud and you jumped slightly. “I got ya,” he said, squeezing your hand as the metallic sound of the door echoed throughout the cavernous space. You squeezed back and threw a smile in his direction.  

  Late afternoon light was streaming in through the remaining glass panels, showing off an iron staircase that lead to a lofted office area, and behind it an enormous room with concrete flooring. “So down here we’d build this out for training purposes,” he motioned to the space with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “Put up walls, build rooms for guys to run tactical drills in. S’enough square footage to run two teams through drills at once.” He cleared his throat and nodded. “I uh, I looked into that, too.”

  He’d looked into more than he let on at the diner, already researching contractors that might be willing to work with a US Marine vet when it came to budget. He watched you take in the room, blinking slowly in the dim light, breathing quietly in the musty air. “It’s perfect, Billy.”

  He shrugged but allowed his cheek to twitch up towards his eye in a one sided grin. “It’s not. But it doesn’t haveta be. Just has to be big.”

  You dislodged your hand from his to explore the space some more, wandering between the support poles that ran from cracked floor to vaulted ceiling. Swinging around one of them, your hair fell like a curtain over your face and you pushed it back. “Well it’s definitely big. So check that off the list.” You came back towards him as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “What else?”

  “Well,” his eyes darted to the staircase, yours following until they came back to meet. “Up there is where the offices would be.” Tongue flicking out to lick his lips and teeth flashing behind them, he said, “Where my office would be.”

  Your grin turned mischievous. “Oh yeah?” He nodded. “Just up those stairs?” Another nod. “Well this I gotta see,” you said, taking off in the direction of the loft.

  “Hang on, wait,” he shot his arm out, catching you by the wrist and wrapping his fingers around it. “Lemme… I dunno if the stairs are…” you let him go ahead of you, testing his weight on the rickety staircase. Satisfied with their structural integrity, he looked back at you. “Okay, c’mon up.” He gave you his hand again and you took it, the familiar weight of it grounding him.

  The top floor boasted an exposed brick wall to the right and a huge half circle window high up near the ceiling to the left, long narrow windows running down beneath it. A series of smaller offices overlooking the first floor could be seen down a short hall. A few stray papers and paint cans were strewn about, and a pigeon cooed as it fluttered from rafter to rafter over your heads. You spun in a slow 360 degrees, directly in the center of the beam of light filtering in through the lead glass semi-circle. Maybe she’s right. Maybe it is perfect. “So what do you think?”

  “I think your desk should go right over there,” you pointed out a spot in the middle of the large brick wall. “You close this off,” you moved your arms to indicate the area around where his phantom desk stood. “Your secretary can sit-“ you looked over your shoulder at him, devilish grin climbing your lips to change the color of your eyes to a darker shade. “She’s not gonna like me, I can tell. But she can sit over there,” again you moved your arms to indicate where walls would be. “Outside your office. More privacy that way.” You’d come back to stand in front of him, slipping your arms beneath his and pressing yourself tightly against him.

  Billy looked down through his lashes at you as you reached up to fix a stray lock of his hair that had fallen in front of his eye, tucking it back in order before trailing your fingertips down the stubble on his face. “S’not what I-“

  “I know.” You gripped the back of his neck and flexed your fingers. “I know that’s not what you were asking. You wanna know what I think, Billy?”

  His hands came up to either side of your face then, eyes searching yours. “Yours is the only opinion that matters,” he said. “So yeah, I wanna know what you think.”

  You looked around the space again, hand dropping from behind him as his fell away from your cheeks. Finding what you were looking for, you smiled and took a few steps into the corner, bending down to pick up an aluminum can with a bright red plastic top. You shook it like a maraca, the liquid inside sloshing around to tell you that it wasn’t empty. Popping the top off, you walked over towards the area you’d cordoned off for his office, finger resting atop the depressor.

  “What are you…” his sentence fell apart as you stooped down and sprayed a big “x” on the ground, dropping the can and letting it clatter by your feet.

  “There,” you said, wiping your hands together and then brushing them off on your jeans. “X marks the spot, Billy. That’s what I think. I think now you have two things to come home to, lieutenant.”

  He shook his head and moved closer to you. “That’s not even… ‘course I’m coming home to you, that’s not-”

  “Yeah, you better.” You stood on the wet X, not caring about getting paint on your shoes. “But this? This place, this goal? I think there’s no way in Hell you don’t make this happen, Billy.”

  He reached for you then, pulling you off the X and into his body, wrapping you up as tightly as he could. “X marks the spot,” he said, lips covering yours, glad that this was how you’d ended up spending the rest of the day.

  ..  .. ..  .. .. ..  ..

  He stooped down to run his fingers over what was left of the red mark, the patterns from the soles of your shoes faintly visible in the splotchy paint. She should be here. She should be here and she’s not. Tears pooled in his eyes and spilled fat and heavy onto the floor as rage roiled in his blood. Frank did this. Frank and… and Madani. He stood then, shuffling back over to the folder in the couch. There’s gotta be… He knew needed to get their attention. Gotta be some way to flush ‘em out, to… 

He flipped through the file, the photos of the two of you from the park socking him hard. Military records, session notes, accomplishments, crimes, details from every aspect of his life typed out neatly in 12 point double spaced font. One name caught his eye as he turned the pages, one name that he’d only ever shared with three people in his adult life: Frank, Madani, and you. 

“So what do you have to do then, Billy? How do you make this happen?”

  Your voice filled his ears then, and he knew what he had to do to make Frank take notice.  

  Thoroughly exhausted from the events of the day, from the pieces he’d put into place and the staggering realizations he’d come to, Billy took the photo from the folder and fell into the broken couch. Outside, the sun had started setting, darkness slowly swallowing the world and ending the day. They took her from me. Slow, shaky breaths puffed through his nostrils as he crossed his arms over his chest, aching to hold you one more time. They took her from me and they’re gonna pay. 

  Though it felt like his anguish would keep him from sleep, his eyes slipped closed and he drifted off, holding your picture and repeating an address over and over, like counting sheep; an address he couldn’t believe he remembered after all these years. 

 They’re all gonna pay.

.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @gollyderek @lexxierave @songforhema @thesumofmychoices @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lysawayne @roses-in-your-country-house @ymariejp @belladonnarey @audreychaz @songtoyou @stories-you-wont-hear @traeumerinwitzhelden @breanime @luminex3 @ificouldhelpyouforget @obscurilicious @jigsawlover10 @getlostinyourparadise @nananananananananananabatman

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Kitchen Cleaning – A Complete Guide

The kitchen is probably the most intensively used space in every apartment – you cook, eat, and live there. Accordingly, you should clean it often and thoroughly. In this article, we are going to provide you with a kitchen cleaning guide.

Kitchen Cleaning Guide

Once or twice a year, every kitchen needs a thorough deep cleaning. Nowhere else, be it from cooking, baking, or eating, is so much fat and dirt deposited on the surfaces. But because you work with food there, the kitchen should be the cleanest and most hygienic place in the apartment. Splashes on the tiles, encrusted ovens, calcified fittings – with these tips and home remedies, you can bring the kitchen back to shine and make it a clean place of wellbeing.

Clean The Oven

If you don’t have an oven that cleans itself at a high temperature, you have to do it yourself. A self-made paste of baking powder and water is suitable if you do not want to use an aggressive oven cleaner. Before you apply them to the heavily soiled areas, you should fill all the openings in the oven with foil or kitchen paper. Now use the paste to the oven and leave it on overnight. The next day, the dirt can be easily scraped off with a plastic scraper and wiped off with a rag. That also works with heavily soiled baking trays.

Remove Overcooked Food From The Hob

There is no cooker protected from food boiling over, whether ceramic, gas or electric. If you do not remove the traces immediately after cooking, it can be a tedious drudgery later. It is better to let the stove cool down a little after cooking and clean it when it is still lukewarm. In addition to chemicals, the power of the lemon is also suitable for lighter stains on the hob. Soak the affected areas with citric acid, leave for about ten minutes, and wipe with a damp cloth. Stubborn stains can be removed more efficiently with a paste of baking soda and water. Spread the mixture on the hob with a cloth, leave to work for several hours, remove with a damp cloth and polish dry.

Kitchen Cleaning – A Hygienic Sink

The sink is a real issue, where germs of all kinds gather – even more than in a toilet. Therefore, it is imperative to remember it when cleaning the kitchen. To keep the sink hygienically clean, you should wash it out regularly with warm water and detergent (this dissolves grease and has an antibacterial effect). To keep a stainless steel sink optically clean, we recommend scrubbing it with baking soda and a brush. With a bowl made of ceramic or plastic, you should exercise a little more care when cleaning, and it is best to clean it with a soft cloth or sponge and some detergent or all-purpose cleaner. Citric acid helps against limescale deposits – to avoid new deposits, the basin can be rubbed dry every day with a microfiber cloth (ideally after each use).

Don’t Forget The Drain

You should also not forget the rinsing outflow, where, in addition to fluff, there is also food residue – which can give off an unpleasant smell in the long run. Therefore, you should flush the drain regularly with drain cleaner. Vinegar and lemon help to clean and deodorize the drain. Stock up on ice cubes made from pieces of lemon and vinegar and pour a handful of them into the drain every few days.

Clean The Refrigerator

Bacteria and mold like to develop in moist areas of the fridge. However, they then spread to all the food that is in there. You should, therefore, carry out thorough fridge cleaning whenever you are cleaning the kitchen – but surface cleaning is sufficient in between. Here is how it works:

First, clear the entire refrigerator out. Dispose of expired or spoiled food in the trash. Remove all shelves and drawers and wash them in the tub with warm water and a disinfectant all-purpose cleaner or vinegar. While everything is drying, you can clean the interior of the refrigerator. A mix of baking soda, water, and soap is suitable for this, which disinfects and deodorizes. Use it to wipe the entire interior walls and doors. If this does not remove all stains, put a little vinegar on a cloth and dab the stain with it. After 15 minutes of exposure, it should be easy to remove.

Dirt and mold quickly settle in the seals around the door. When you have removed all splashes, stains, and crumbs, you can rub everything dry with a soft cloth, and the shelves can be put back in place.

Clean Natural Wood

Work surfaces and boards made of natural wood require a particular cleaning method. All you need is lemons, salt, and paper towels. Squeeze the lemon juice onto the wood and spread the salt generously. With another half of lemon and rub everything on the wooden surface. That removes all stains and smells from the wood. Finally, remove the excess salt with a tea towel and let the surface dry. To protect the wood in the long term, you should rub it with oil every few weeks; for example, pure rapeseed oil is suitable.

Kitchen Cleaning – Don’t Forget The Dishwasher

Cleaning the kitchen also requires you to clean the dishwasher. Just because it cleans things, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give it a bit of love. You should clean the dishwasher once a month using special dishwasher detergent. These are small bottles that you put upside down in the cutlery basket or the plate rack of the empty dishwasher and then run through them once at the highest heat.

Why clean the dishwasher when water and detergent are continually flowing through the machine? A special cleaner removes all stubborn residues.

You should also clean the seals and door joints with this cleaning agent or a self-made paste made of baking soda or vinegar cleaner. Also, check the drain for foreign objects and clean the drain filter with a dish brush and a mild detergent. If the filter is not too bad, I often take them out and put them upside down in the dishwasher while I am running the cleaning agent through.

Treat The Microwave With lemon

To remove stubborn splashes in the microwave, heat a suitable container with water and lemon juice for three minutes – and let it stand in the microwave for another five minutes. That will loosen sticky dirt on the inside walls. You can then wipe them off with a damp sponge and dishwashing detergent.

Organize Kitchen Cabinets Sensibly

Over time, a hopeless mess of pasta, cornflakes, spices, and the like develops in many kitchen cupboards. Remove all of this from the cupboards and clean them with water and vinegar. Then reorganize everything according to food and place everything that is frequently used right at the front – this saves time and creates order. Small baskets and labels can help you organize them.

Grease On Surfaces

All kitchen utensils not stowed in a cupboard, like the cupboards themselves and the extractor hood, build up a layer of fat and dust over time. You should remember them when you are cleaning the kitchen. If the items are small enough and dishwasher-safe, remove them regularly and wash everything through (also works with most hood filters). To clean larger areas such as cupboards, doors, tiles, use water, and degreasing detergent. Do not forget to brush the closet; they are often very sticky and dirt deposited. You can prevent this by covering the surfaces with a newspaper, which you should replace regularly.

Polish Stainless Steel With Baking soda

Stainless steel surfaces – such as toasters or extractor hoods – are best cleaned regularly with a damp microfiber cloth. Coarse dirt and rust stains can be removed wonderfully with baking soda. Mix some water with baking soda to get a milky substance. Now put the paste on the stainless steel surface and scrub lightly with a soft sponge – finally wipe and polish everything with a damp cloth, done! By the way, you can also use baking powder can also to remove these unsightly gray scratches on light porcelain dishes.

Kitchen Cleaning – Final Sprint On The Floor

Only when everything shines again in the kitchen, all cupboards cleaned, newly arranged and sorted, should you dedicate yourself to the floor. A microfiber mop is suitable for wiping a tile or linoleum floor, and hot soapy water. Clean coarse stains or discolorations with a mixture of salt and turpentine. You should always use a wood care product to clean wooden floors. That is because they should not get too wet. Also, do not use detergent; this takes the oil from the wood. Now let everything dry, stand back, and enjoy the radiant shine in the kitchen.

Conclusion

Try to keep in mind working from top to bottom of any room. However, if you can, you should try to incorporate this strategy into your schedule.

If you would like some assistance in home cleaning in the New York area, please contact cleaning services queens .

[pdspaintingbirmingham]

Elementor #1108

How To Properly Clean Your Paintbrushes.

This unique form of paint tool cleaning uses tools that you probably already have around the house. Learn our best tips regarding paintbrushes cleaning and drying.

You’ll save time, resources and money by taking care of paintbrushes, rollers, and plates. Do not put your tools in a bucket or sink and expect them to clean themselves; they are going to be destroyed, and you’re going to end up throwing them away and buying new ones. It is luckily no pain to maintain. When working with water-based paint and at the end of your job, clean your paintbrushes every two hours. Read below for tips on keeping your paintbrushes in good condition. These same steps can also be used to clean the paint rollers and plates. You’ll love our top, fabric softener paint cleaning solution!

Remove Excess Paint

Rid any excess paint from your brush or pad by scratching it with the edge of a 5-in-1 tool or the teeth of a self-cleaning machine. You may also use a fine-tooth hair-comb for extra small brushes. To remove the accumulated paint, scrape the side of the tool onto the bucket or paint tray between passes.

Make Solution

Being your own paint remover solution doesn’t take much. Mix many gallons of this magic potion in a 5-gallon bucket: add 1/2 cup of fabric softener for every gallon of warm water. The fabric softener is a surfactant — it simply makes the cloth more weathered, so it can remove paint more quickly. This DIY edition will save you money and going to the store will cause you problems.

Do not clean the brush with dish soap, as opposed to common belief; it will mess up the ferrule and the bristles. And the device doesn’t need to be rinsed in fresh water. The more often you clean the solution with the softener, the better it gets. The fabric softener covers the handle, ferrule, and bristles, allowing paint to float off the tool effortlessly. With this trick you can see the life of your paintbrushes growing considerably!

Clean Brush

Dip the brush into the mixture, swish through the water briskly, and count to 10. The paint will loosen from the bristles and settle down to the bucket bottom. Be careful not to mix too vigorously and cause spills if your solution hits the top of your container.

Rollers take a little more time — about 30 seconds — and can need a few dipping. We can also require more time to dry after washing.

Dry Brush 

Using a paintbrush spinner to flush water from the brush and dry the paintbrush quickly. We suggest that you do this over a spare bucket so you don’t mind being dirty. You may also turn the brush into a bucket of wet waste. Start with an empty 5-gallon plastic seal with lid to make one. Cut an 8 “hole in the middle of the cover. Place a bucket with a plastic trash bag and click onto the top. The lid holds the splatter inside the bucket; when done, throw the bag in. Using a small towel to fry the machine dry. It doesn’t work with a roller to turn the hair, so let those air dry when sitting on an open surface.

Oil-based paints Sadly the fabric softener trick only works with water-based paint. Oil based paint should be handled differently, including stains or varnishes. The paint may suggest which form of solvent is best for the product; it may be a thinner paint or mineral spirit. Clean the brush as before, except for the oil-based solvent when changing the fabric softener solution. Let the brush comb dry and run through the bristles one more time to ensure there are no paint chips left.

from PDS Painting Birmingham https://www.pdspaintingbirmingham.com/elementor-1108/