#she said do we ever strip it without scrubbing it?

[wellthatschaotic]

are nts allergic to giving full clear instructions or something

[astarionspointyears]

Dawn broke over the horizon, filling the camp with a deep golden light. Tav groaned and rolled over, threw her arm over her eyes to block the light and tried to go back to sleep. It was too early and her brain was not ready to function yet. Her head throbbed as if being crushed by an ogre, her muscles so sore she wasn’t sure if she could even stand. Despite the whole ordeal yesterday Tav had barely slept. Sleeping outside under the stars might be someone’s idea of fun, but it certainly wasn’t hers. Tav liked her bed with soft sheets and comfortable pillows. Not a thin sleeping bag on the rocky ground with bugs flying in her ears.

Tav drifted in and out of sleep for a while until she couldn’t ignore the ache in her stomach any longer. Her head protested heavily as she forced her eyes open and sat up. The others were already awake, it seemed. Shadowheart was bent over the fire stirring something in a large pot as Lae’zel sat nearby skinning an animal, possibly a rabbit. Tav gathered her bathing supplies and started towards the nearby river.

“We cannot afford any more lie-ins,” Lae’zel said as she passed. “If we are going to survive this, we need to-”

“Spare me the lecture,” Tav said. “I know. I’ll be back shortly and we can all discuss the next steps.”

Lae’zel didn’t seem to like this answer, but didn’t protest any further. Tav exchanged a brief glance with Shadowheart and then proceeded towards the river. The trees were sparse, and Tav could see the water from quite far away. She spotted the silver haired elf, whose name escaped her, sitting on a rock in a patch of sunlight. They had met him near the crash site, apparently in the same predicament as the rest of them. Tav trusted him about as much as a goblin on trial, which she thought was justified given the fact he had tried to kill her yesterday. There was strength in numbers though, so they agreed to travel together.

Tav cleared her throat as she approached him. She wasn’t in the mood for conversation but she didn’t want to startle him either, given his proclivity for stabbing. “Good morning,” she muttered.

The elf glanced up at her, his mouth curling up into a half smile. “Morning,” he said. His voice was rich like expensive chocolate.

Tav returned the smile and moved to a clear spot several yards away from him. She sat down next to the water and stripped off her shirt to review the various injuries she had obtained in the crash. The left side of her body seemed to have taken it the worst, and a rather nasty bruise was spreading over her ribs. If they were going to get through this nightmare they would need to make salves and various other healing potions. Tav made a mental note to speak to her companions about it. There was so much they needed to prepare, so much they needed to do if they were going to get out of this alive. Tav felt bile rise up in her throat when she thought about what lay ahead of her. As far as anyone knew, a mindflayer parasite in your head meant certain death and nobody knew how or why they had not yet transformed. She swallowed hard and hoped Lae’zel’s crèche would agree to help them and they could be rid of the tadpoles quickly.

Tav knelt beside the stream and dipped her face in the water. She would have preferred a hot bath, but at this point she had to take what she could get. As she scrubbed the layers of dirt and blood off her skin her eyes wandered over to the silver haired elf. There was something ethereal about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He was tall and slender, with an angular face and sharp jawline. His porcelain skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, his silver hair curled perfectly around his ears. He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful person Tav had seen in a while. Maybe ever.

“I am quite beautiful, aren’t I?”

His voice startled Tav from her thoughts, and she realized she’d been staring. She quickly averted her eyes.

“What?”

“You think I’m beautiful,” he said.

Tav proceeded to wet her hair and lathered up with soap. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s all right, darling,” his voice simultaneously deepened and softened. Tav had to strain to hear him over the rush of water. “You’re hardly the first person to think so. I probably am the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.”

Tav rolled her eyes. She refused to look at him as she brushed the tangles from her hair. “You’re full of yourself, aren’t you?”

He chuckled, stood up, and walked over to her. Tav couldn’t help but notice the way his wet shirt clung to him, outlining the muscles on his stomach and chest. She forced herself to look somewhere else. Anywhere else.

“You’ve forgotten about the tadpoles,” he said, smirking like the cat that caught the canary. “Anyone can hear your thoughts if you’re not careful. Yours were quite loud, just now.”

Tav huffed out a breath and immediately closed her mind, shutting out anyone who might be listening. Of course she had learned of the tadpole’s psychic powers yesterday, but in the haze of shock and exhaustion she had forgotten. Tav splashed water on her face to hide the flush that crept up her neck. She was not about to allow this elf to gain the upper hand just because he was handsome.

“Did you also hear how I want to smack that smirk off your face?” Tav muttered.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

Tav stood up to dry herself off and found herself face to face with him. There was something about his red hued eyes that set her on edge. Everything about him - his smile, purposely messy hair, even his outfit - felt almost too perfect. It felt like he had been created simply to get under her skin, disarm her and make her vulnerable. Under his gaze, Tav felt like a mouse about to be pounced on. Despite all of this though, Tav thought she saw a trace of trepidation in his face. He wanted to appear aloof and uncaring, but something told her he was just as lost and scared as she was.

“Do you need something?” Tav asked after a long moment.

“A stiff drink, to start,” he said. “But more than that, I need allies. I need to know that we can work together to solve this tadpole problem. I need to know I can trust you.”

Tav shrugged. “Trust might be asking a lot, but I don’t think we have much of a choice. All of us have this…condition. The way I see it, we either team up or we die. Or transform, I suppose.”

The elf seemed to shudder at the mention of ceremophosis. “Perish the thought. I’d hate to deprive the world of this beautiful body.”

“I don’t know,” Tav said. “Tentacles might look good on you. It would certainly add a layer of intrigue.”

He gave a halfhearted laugh and his cocky smirk changed into a softer, almost genuine smile. He took a step towards her and leaned in. Tav’s heart started to beat faster and a shiver ran up her spine as he reached into her hair and untangled a dead leaf, which he pulled out and tossed aside. Her skin tingled where his fingers brushed against her.

“Thanks,” Tav said, hoping he didn’t notice the change in her breathing.

“Astarion.”

“Sorry?”

“My name is Astarion.” His cocky smirk returned. “I have a feeling you won’t be forgetting it again.”

Tav rolled her eyes. “I suppose I won’t, but probably not for the reasons you think.”

“As long you remember, darling, the reasons are irrelevant,” Astarion said with a slight bow of his head. “I’ll see you back at camp, then.”

Tav nodded and watched Astarion as he turned to walk away. She wondered about his motives, what made him so confident, yet so fragile? What secret was he hiding, and did it make him a good (maybe dangerous) ally, or a liability? There was no way to know for sure.

Whatever the case was, Tav knew one thing about Astarion - he was going to be a big problem.

[ohstardustgirl]

Fools for Love - Daryl Dixon x Reader

Setting: Party night in Alexandria. The ‘Spencer is a douche’ trope lives on.

You stood on the porch of your house in Alexandria. Everyone else was still at Deanna’s party, but you were only too glad to have an excuse to slip away. The guns you had stolen from the armoury were now safely hidden throughout the house you shared with Rick, Michonne, Judith and Carl. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. If these people were up to something, at least you would be armed. The party had only confused you more - none of these people would last five minutes outside the walls. But you trusted Rick’s leadership, and besides, you didn’t think you could let your guard down if you tried.

The night air was made your skin prickle. The camisole top you wore was the nicest thing you had owned since before the outbreak. It knew it wouldn’t be useful for anything else when you pulled it out of the pile of donated clothes from Alexandria’s storage, but tonight you wanted to feel good in a strange situation. You still wore your jeans, but had swapped your boots for sneakers. You enjoyed the silence of the spring night, but something was missing. Someone was missing. You weren’t surprised that Daryl hadn’t wanted to go to the party. You wouldn’t have been there either if there hadn’t been a need to steal the guns without raising suspicion. But it wasn’t just tonight, he had been distant ever since you had arrived here a few days ago. While you and everyone else were enjoying hot showers and claiming rooms, he had been out hunting or watching for walkers or just sitting out on the porch like a guard dog. You didn’t blame him. After Terminus you were a little suspicious of them too. You liked Aaron though, and your gut didn’t trust anyone too easily or often. The party had felt a little Stepford-ish, but most of the people here had lived in fancy suburbs their whole lives. The colony was a reflection of how they thought life was supposed to be. People like Daryl and even you were a foreign concept to them before the dead started walking.

You had known Daryl since the quarry and slowly earned each other’s trust. He had kissed you the night before the Governor had attacked. When you were reunited at Terminus he had held you so tight you thought he would never let go, and he hadn’t let you out of his sight since. If he wasn’t on watch, he slept close by you. Yet since your arrival at Alexandria, he had been pulling away. You hated it. What if your closeness had been because of his lack of better options, or just the stress of survival. You had hesitated getting close at all for exactly that reason. In the end, you would be hurt or left, just like every other time in your life you had loved someone.

As if your thoughts had called out to him, Daryl appeared at the steps of the porch, stopping short when he saw you there. Your heart did a flip. He looked good – finally scrubbed up and changed into clean clothes, or at least a new shirt and jeans. He still wore his leather cut and mucky boots. You understood the reluctance to let your guard down and strip naked and shower in a strange place. It had taken you a while to do the same. You smiled at the sight of him and your worries eased a little.

“How’d it go?” he asked as he climbed the steps and joined you, standing beside you at the railing to look out over the town. He left only an inch between you and you could feel the warmth of his body.

“No issues. Got whatever I could carry out of there, hid it all in the basement. We can split it between the two houses when everyone gets back.”

“No trouble sneaking out?”

“A little. Couldn’t get away from one of Deanna’s sons,” you rolled your eyes. Spencer had been relentless and clearly thought himself charming. “But Sasha had a bit of a meltdown, it was a good distraction.” You felt bad for Sasha, but you knew she was in good hands. “Where did you end up?”

“Aaron’s,” he said as he lit a cigarette. “He made me an offer, wanted to talk it over.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he wants me to take over recruitin’ from Eric. Got me a bike and everything.”

Your stomach dropped, and a voice said ‘I told you so’. “You’re gonna go out there with him?”

“Meetin’ him at sunrise. Bike needs a bit more work though, we’ll take a car and hit the road first thing.”

You wanted to say you were happy for him, because really you were. This wasn’t his life – suburbs and cocktail parties and book clubs. It wasn’t yours either, but you were too exhausted to think about going through all of that again. Everything that had happened since the prison fell still weighed heavy on you, and your body and mind had yet to recover. But what if he decided that being out there forever was what he really wanted?

“Hey,” he nudged you, able to read your worry. “I’m comin’ back. I’m more useful out there than in here.”

“I know. Just… worried you might wanna stay out there, on the road.”

“I wanna be where my family is. As long as y’all are safe here, I’ll keep coming back,” he turned to face you fully, and you mirrored him. “You’re here, so I’ll always come back.” He raised his hand towards yours, and he was about to say something more when another voice broke into your private bubble.

“There you are,” Spencer said, strolling up to the balcony of the porch to look up at you. He carried a bottle of something expensive looking. “Didn’t see you leave the party, I was worried.”

“I’m a fan of an Irish exit,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. Daryl had stiffened beside you. You knew Spencer meant well. There didn’t seem to be many women his own age around the colony until your group came along. You were annoyed though that he hadn’t taken the hint with your polite yet disinterested tone at the party, and even more annoyed that he had interrupted your conversation with someone you had been dying to talk to alone for days. You bit back the urge to snap at him and instead spoke in your best waitress voice. “Can I help you?”

“I just wondered if you would like to join me for a drink somewhere quieter,” he waved the bottle at you, and acknowledged Daryl’s presence with a brief glance. “Just you and me?”

Daryl moved away from you and turned so his back was to Spencer. He leaned back against the railing and ducked his head. His dark hair hid his face from your view but his hands were clenched on the rail and his jaw twitched. He had shut himself off as if preparing for a blow. If he really thought you would go for a guy like Spencer, then you really needed to talk about whatever your relationship was. Out there on the road, it felt safer to pretend you didn’t feel anything. You didn’t know how long this safe haven would last, but you knew you had to choose to live instead of being afraid all the time. If you died tomorrow your biggest regret would be not telling Daryl how you felt.

“No thank you,” you looked at Daryl and stepped closer to him. You took his hand in yours. “I’ve got plans with someone else.”

The look Daryl gave you was almost unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders noticeably eased and he didn’t let go of your hand.

Spencer glanced between the two of you. He looked confused. “Really? You sure?”

You wanted to smack him for being so damn rude. He clearly couldn’t believe that you would choose Daryl over him. He had been a pain in your ass all night, now he was slyly insulting the man you loved. You dropped your politeness down a few notches when you spoke again.

“I ain’t available. Or interested. Sorry. Good night, Spencer.”

Spencer might have grumbled something more before he walked away, but you stopped paying attention once Daryl took your hand in his.

“Sorry,” you said. “If I wasn’t tryin’ to make a good impression at the party I woulda been a lot blunter with him earlier.”

“Did you just say what you said to get rid of him?”

“No. I don’t know what we are, and you don’t owe me anything but I-“ You struggled for the words. You weren’t good at this kind of thing. “I thought we – you and me – we had something, didn’t we?”

Daryl nodded, unable to look you in the eye. “Yeah. Course we did.”

“You haven’t kissed me since that last night in the prison,” You held onto his hand like a lifeline in case it was the last time. “Did you regret it?”

“Hell no, y/n,” he said, his other hand moved up to your shoulder. “I figured you didn’t have any better options at the time. Maybe here you do.”

“I don’t need options, Daryl, I just want you. Always have. The world could go back to normal tomorrow and I’d still choose you.” You sighed. “We’re not good at this, are we?”

He scoffed. “I know I’m not,” the hand on your shoulder moved to your cheek. “I’m crazy ‘bout you, y/n, have been for a long time. Kept thinking some day you’d wake up with a bit more sense and find someone better.”

“Since the day we’ve met you’ve done nothing but prove how good you can be. There is no ‘better’ for me. I don’t care if it’s here or out on the road again, but I don’t plan on feeling this way about anyone else.”

His thumb stroked over your cheek, fingers tangling in your hair. “You sure?”

You nodded, running your hand up to his face to mirror his actions. “Absolutely. And even if you’re heading out with Aaron, I know you’ll come back.”

“Ain’t nothing out there would keep me from coming back to ya,” he said, before leaning in and kissing you. It was just as tentative as your first kiss all that time ago, but it quickly became more sure. You let go of his hand so you could wrap both arms around his neck, pushing up on your toes to keep contact with as much of his body as you could. His arms wrapped around you, nearly lifting you off the ground as the kiss became more passionate. He tasted of red wine and cigarettes, and you couldn’t get enough. Warmth flooded your belly and you didn’t want this moment to end. In the distance a door opened – the noise from the party at Deanna’s momentarily spilled out on to the street as someone left the house. You parted just enough to end your kiss.

“Where are you staying tonight?”

“Think Rick saved the basement for me.”

“Good, cos I’m supposed to be sharing with Michonne,” you bit your lip and looked up at him through your lashes. “That is… if you want to continue this?”

His answer was another kiss that swept you off your feet.

[chartreuseian]

Now that I don't feel guilty because I wrote yours, I'd love to see how you'd do Teslen (I know it's your thing!) with number 12 from the 'Ways to Say I Love You' Prompts.

Thank yoooou 😁

Prompt 12: "No one’s ever done this for me before…"

It very much got away from me, but it was stupidly fun to write, even if it is more Teslen when you squint and tilt your head (I was aiming for like acts of service love with a side of banter).

Also, Teslen being my thing 🤣 I swear I used to do other stuff too!!

---

A sharp curse, followed by a disgruntled muttering sounded from the other side of the bathroom door and Helen took a deep breath against her headache.

3… 2…

“Helen?”

She sighed.

“Nikola?”

There was another curse and she stood, moving toward the otherside of the room.

“I think I need…”

She pushed open the door.

“… a hand.”

He was standing in the middle of the bathroom, dripping small globs of murky green gunk onto the white of the tiles, hand held awkwardly out from his sides to keep his talons from doing any more harm than they’d apparently already done. His eyes were still pitch black, and each word sounded thick through the mouthful of too sharp teeth that had crowded out from his gums.

Giving her a rather pathetic look (as a large glob of gunk fell wetly off of his chin) he gestured towards his filthy clothing and cocked his head.

“Sorry,” he offered far more meekly than she’d expected.

Helen said nothing, biting back another sigh and wishing she’d had the foresight to grab some painkillers from her kit bag. She nodded once and Nikola moved to step towards her, but Helen held up a hand.

“Let’s keep the mess in one spot, shall we?” She arched an eyebrow, glancing pointedly at the sludgy mess by his feet. Nikola followed her gaze, pulling a face but remaining still.

Helen approached cautiously, a very human instinct to run from the vampire warring with the knowledge that beneath the nasty visage, it was still just Nikola. She eyed his coat, looking for a spot that was at least partially clean.

“The back should be mostly clear,” he offered, jerking his head but not shifting. Helen stepped to the side, relieved to find that the back of his coat was in fact clean enough that she could grab a hold without getting more of the gunk on herself. She’d already had to spend ten minutes scrubbing it off of her hands once and she didn’t relish the thought of having to do it again.

Reaching up she grabbed the back of his coat, tugging it until it was sliding back and Nikola could shuffle his arms through, fingers carefully pressed together to minimise the threat of his claws. Discarding the coat and moving back around to his front, Helen began work on his waistcoat (only a little gunk).

“Perhaps this will teach you to stop rushing in ahead of me,” she said, sliding the garment off of his shoulders.

“Or perhaps this is a perfect example of why I should rush in,” he retorted. Helen glanced up to him and frowned before she began working on his belt. “It’s worth noting that my being in front is the reason you are not currently covered in this SCIU snot,” he continued.

Helen made a face.

“Or maybe I wouldn’t have immediately pressed every button I could find just for the hell of it, and so this… mess could have been avoided entirely.”

“I did not press every button.”

Helen merely raised an eyebrow as she started on the row of buttons down the front of his shirt. She worked in silence for a few moments, stripping him of the soiled garments as quickly as she could manage. When he began to toe off his shoes, Helen stood back.

“Are you feeling any more in control?” she asked, scanning his features. He looked just as vampiric as he had in the moments after they’d been sprayed.

“It’s not about control,” he replied as he pushed the shoes off to the side. “I just can’t…”

“Get it under control,” Helen finished. Nikola sighed at that.

“I’m not about to feast on you, if that’s what’s got you so uptight,” he retorted.

“Glad to know.”

“Oh stop being so snippy with me,” he said. “It’s not my fault I got sprayed with whatever nasty experiment they were mucking about with, and can’t make these,” he waved his talons in front of her face, “go away. You were the one who said washing it off should do the trick.”

A sharp retort was on her tongue, but Helen bit it back. She knew she’d been short with him (which, generally speaking, she would argue he deserved) but not a single thing had gone according to plan all day and the fact that she now had to undress Nikola – no doubt prompting all manner of lewd comments for the foreseeable future – felt like the very terrible icing on an exceptionally unpleasant cake.

Taking in a deep breath, she met his eye.

“You need to bathe.”

For a split second she could see the innuendo forming in his mouth, but apparently he decided to play the gentleman and swallowed it. Trying for a steady, scientific approach, she reached for the clasp of his trousers, met his eye once more, and then swiftly tugged them down over his hips, dragging his underwear along with it.

She left him to step out of them, turning instead to the bathtub and fiddling with the knobs until a steady stream of warm water was filling the tub.

“This will have to do until we can get you into a decontamination shower,” she said, looking over her shoulder briefly. He’d grabbed his mostly clean shirt and was using the sleeve of it to wipe his face. Straightening up, she met his eye once more.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Helen moved towards the door, stopping only when Nikola made a small, uncertain noise. She turned.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to do much with these without a shower head to help me along,” he said with another wave of his talons, this time far more sheepish.

“And you need to get the substance off your skin,” she agreed, closing her eyes for half a second. Helen took a deep breath and gestured towards the rub. “Alright then.”

They both moved in silence then, collecting up what they would need to clean him up, and it wasn’t until Nikola climbed into the tub that he spoke again.

“I just don’t understand what possible purpose this could serve,” Nikola grumbled, leaning back against the edge of the tub as his hands settled on the edge. “What value is there in a gunk that makes me vamp out if it doesn’t turn me into some sort of mindless slave at the same time?”

“It’s the optics of it,” Helen replied, clearing the decorative stool beside the tub and dragging it over. “Imagine if you could awaken the beastie in every abnormal for miles around. You’d be hard pressed to find a government that wouldn’t help fund a counter attack.” She settled beside him, pressing on his shoulder until he sank lower into the water.

“Utter maniacs,” he muttered, closing his eyes as he tipped his head back. Helen slid one hand into his hair, pulling him back up slightly while the other grabbed at a bottle of soap she’d nabbed from the counter. With one hand she flicked the cap open and tipped it onto his scalp.

“Well, I did try and tell you that,” she replied, half joking. Nikola’s lips quirked into the beginnings of a smile.

“I suppose one of these days I’ll have to start listening to you,” he murmured as her fingers began to work through the grease of his hair. The substance was unpleasantly thick and seemed to want to cling to each hair.

Helen scoffed.

“That will be the day I officially retire,” she said. “And perhaps pigs fly.”

Nikola chuckled quietly, but offered no rebuttal as he tipped his head further back to give her better access. For a few long minutes, Helen worked in silence, soaping, rinsing and soaping again. Nikola was being exceptionally well behaved, which she suspected had more to do with his long term goals for the evening that giving her a break.

When her nails scratched as the nape of his neck slightly, he hummed softly and a spasm of something flitted across his face.

“You know,” he began, “no one’s ever done this for me before…”

“Washed your hair?” she asked, quietly bemused by his tone.

“Well, I suppose my mother when I was a child, but you’re certainly the first of my paramours to perform the service.”

“I am not your paramour.”

“Then why are we holed up in a very quaint little bed and breakfast, with such a glamourous, sharable bathtub and nary a shower in sight?” he countered, not opening his eyes.

“You know very well this was the only accommodation available at such short notice. And I don’t exactly get to decide where SCIU sets up their facilities,” Helen replied, tugging a little more harshly on his hair as she once more rubbed soap into the slowly loosening mess. “It was this or we camp.”

“And you didn’t bring the children,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Henry and Will had only just gotten back from their latest expedition.” She sighed, unsure why she was justifying herself to Nikola. “You were the only one left to call on, I’m afraid.”

He pulled a face at that and she smiled a little triumphantly, if only because he couldn’t see it.

Then his eyes flew open and her face dropped.

The twinkle in his eye suggested she hadn’t been quite quick enough.

“Have you done this before?” His tone suggested the beginning of a line of banter she didn’t have it in her to deal with.

“Yes.”

Nikola’s lips twitched and she cut him off.

“Ashley used to hate washing her hair,” she continued. Something happened to his expression for a split second, but she didn’t dwell on it. “I became quite adept at ensuring that no bubbles get into your eyes as a matter of self-preservation.”

After a pause his cocksure grin was back and he was all but leering up at her.

“So, then I’m the first of your paramours to receive the honours?”

She smiled back, looking away from her work to meet his eye.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

His lips pressed into a frustrated line.

“No.”

Helen chuckled.

“That’s what I thought.” She tapped the side of his head. “Sit up.”

Obligingly, Nikola moved forwards, sitting up and she pointedly did not watch the water that rolled down his shoulders. She would not, under any circumstances, give him the satisfaction. Instead she grabbed the empty cup she’d nabbed earlier, dipping it into the water and bringing it up to his head. Cupping her other hand along his hairline, she rinsed the suds from his hair.

When she was satisfied with her work, she leaned back and smiled.

“Done.”

“Surely you missed a spot,” he said quickly, leaning forwards. Helen merely reached across and grabbed one of the towels hanging beside the tub.

“Given you seem to have dealt with your little problem,” she replied, pressing the towel against his chest above the water line, “I’m going to have to argue the evidence is to the contrary.”

Nikola looked down at his hands, capturing the towel just as she withdrew her hand and stood. He seemed momentarily shocked by his own very normal nails, and she watched as he ran his tongue across his teeth and Helen found herself faintly relieved that she was faced once more with a very normal looking Nikola.

She stood, turning away as he began to move before bending down to collect up his filthy outfit. When she heard the soft sounds of his steps on the tile, she turned back to him. Nikola had wrapped the towel low around his hips and was sauntering towards her with an air of arrogance he hadn’t been able to maintain when covered in gunk.

“Go get dressed,” she said, making a point to look him in the eye. He waited for her gaze to slip, and she was quite proud of the fact that it did not. Instead she gestured to the door, shepherding him towards it. “You’re not the only one who needs to bathe here, Nikola.”

“Oh Helen,” he purred, “surely you’ll allow me to return the favour…” He lounged in the doorway as if the sight of his bare chest might sway her.

Helen simply smiled and raised one hand.

“No need." She waggled her fingers at him. “I’m not the one with a talon problem.”

And before he could even formulate another line to try, she pushed at said bare chest, shutting the door firmly between them and trying very hard not to think about the fact she still had to share a bed with him until first light.

[thezombieprostitute]

Alphas & Algorithms - Part 2 - First date

A/N: Continued from Part 1. I have a few chapters written but not sure how to make the story work after that. Reader is female and is described as "tall". No other descriptors.

Warnings: It is a Dystopian AU. Food scarcity, hunger, mentions of families being separated. Please let me know if I missed any!

--Part 1-- --Part 3--

--Series Masterlist--

If he’d ever had any dignity, Curtis was quite certain it was gone now. He’d been stripped down and then cleaned and scrubbed so many times, in so many places. They gave him new clothes that were made from some surprisingly nice fabric. The instruction drone had told him that the clothes were now his. He wasn’t sure it would ever be good for regular wear but it might be nice for sleeping in. 

The entire place smelled like nothing. It was all sterile with pale lighting. Not sure what was expected of him, Curtis kept his head down and just followed the drone. He was led to a room and told to wait until the Omega was done with her most recent inquiry. He tensed at this and ground his teeth as he reminded himself to behave or risk his pack getting hurt. He hated what Omegas did to their own kind and especially hated the idea of meeting one just as they were finished hurting someone. 

When the door opened, he was face to face with a tall woman whose eyes were filled with tears. Though he initially thought she was another Alpha, her scent hit him and screamed “Omega”. He was in shock and just stood there, looking at her. The drone introduced him as "the Alpha" and her eyes went wide.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I had planned to meet you for dinner, not at work.” She began wiping the tears from her eyes in haste and he could tell she was trying to get ahold of herself. She then turned to the drone and said, “please make sure to take Mrs. Parker to her pack safe and sound. And make sure she’s compensated for all of this.”

The drone replied, “the AI has already decided on her compensation of one day’s wages.”

“And I’ve told the AI that she deserves more than that,” the Omega insisted. “This isn’t just missing a day of work, this is a day of fear and confusion and should be compensated with more.”

“The AI will take this into consideration. Please do not push it further.”

Curtis sensed the stress radiating from the Omega and he had to stop himself from indulging his Alpha instinct to protect and comfort. For all he knew, this was staged to throw him off guard. At the very least, touching an Omega without permission could easily be a death sentence. 

After she calmed herself down, the Omega nodded her head and the drone went into the room where Mrs. Parker was waiting. The Omega looked at him, gave a small smile and held out her hand. “Hello, I’m Y/N. I’m genuinely sorry you had to see that.”

Curtis lightly shook her hand, still not sensing anything other than her scent, a warm, gentle vanilla. “I’m Curtis.”

“Nice to meet you, Curtis. How about we go get some food? I’ve been doing a lot of stress baking lately and could use some help eating up the results.”

“You bake?”

“All Omegas are required to experience all sorts of things. It’s hard to explain what you're smelling when you don’t have the words or connections.” Y/N began to walk them down the hallway as she continued, “one or two Omegas are content with reading as a means of building their descriptors but I prefer to combine it with experience. It’s one thing to read about what a campfire is, another to experience it.”

“A campfire seems an odd choice for an example.”

“Oh, sorry,” Y/N’s face fell in embarrassment. “Social skills have never been my strong suit. I thought it was appropriate since that’s what your scent makes me think of.”

“I smell like smoke and fire?”

Y/N pursed her lips as she sought how to explain, “it’s more that your scent evokes similar feelings? Ideas? Imagery? To a campfire. Maybe if I had said your scent makes me think of “warmth and safety” it would’ve made more sense?”

“I knew Omegas processed scents differently but I guess I didn’t realize what that actually meant.”

“And that’s part of why I prefer to experience as opposed to just learning. It really enhances my perception and understanding.”

As they walked through the hallways Curtis found himself easily lost. The building was sterile in so many ways and he couldn’t figure out how anyone could find their way around. 

“Are you okay,” Y/N asked, her voice full of concern.

“This place is just. It’s really disorienting to not have scents or signs or any other indicators of where you’re at.”

Y/N turned her head with a questioning expression, “what do you mean? There are scents everywhere around here.”

Curtis stared back with an equally questioning face, “if there are they’re incredibly minimal. All I can smell is you, myself and…cleaner?”

“Huh. I didn’t realize your senses were so limited.” Y/N continued before he could protest, “the last time I was permitted out-and-about it was a veritable onslaught of scents and I nearly passed out from the overload. So maybe it’s not so much that your senses are limited as much as it is that mine are too sensitive. I apologize for my initial statement, it seems to have offended you.” Y/N looked down in embarrassment and continued walking.

Curtis followed after her, “well, you did say social skills aren’t your strong suit. But how did you pick up on my confusion so easily?”

“Your scent. There was an uptick in smokiness.”

“That’s…” Curtis was at a loss for words. He was finally putting together why the AI prized Omegas so much. If she was acting and giving him a false sense of security, he wasn’t able to pick up on it. But he knew that if he tried to fake her out, she’d pick up on it immediately. He needed to be very careful around her.

Y/N opened the door to her apartment and let Curtis walk in ahead of her. Her earlier concerns about the lingering scents of the baking were diminished after their chat in the hall. 

“Please have a seat,” Y/N said, gesturing to the dining table. 

“This entire place is just for you?” Curtis asked softly as he sat.

“Not exactly,” Y/N began as she headed to the kitchen to get some food to share. “That door over there is Jake’s room. He’s my Beta. It was supposed to be a suite for me but I prefer the openness of the main living area. Makes it easier to see what is and isn’t around me. Why? How big is your place?”

Curtis took a deep sigh, “I share an apartment about the same size as this, without the extra bedroom suite, with my pack. We’re lucky, though, in that we actually have a bathroom in our apartment.”

Y/N stopped as she came out of the kitchen and looked around at her home. “I think I'm finally understand the meaning of ‘an embarrassment of riches’. I didn’t realize space and facilities were such limited resources.”

She set down the plate of food and Curtis’s stomach made an audible noise. She looked at him sadly and said, “I’m guessing food is also such a resource. Um… thank you for your patience with my ignorance.” As she sat down she took one of the mini-quiches and slowly chewed, indicating to Curtis to join her but too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. 

Curtis bit down and immediately moaned from how good and rich the food tasted. He didn’t know if it tasted so good because Y/N clearly had access to the good foodstuffs or if she was actually that good at baking, but in that moment it didn’t matter. The food was delicious. Curtis had learned to shut out his stomach before but with the first mini-quiche down his stomach was like a dragon awoken from its slumber.

Y/N gently smiled, “you can eat more, at your own pace. You must be starving and I’ll take it as a compliment if I don’t have any leftovers.”

Not needing any further permission Curtis ate several of the quiches. He was able to keep some semblance of polite table manners, he didn’t want to promote the idea that Alphas were dumb animals, but he definitely ate at a much faster rate than her. When the plate was cleared he picked up a slight change in her scent, a hint that she was pleased. It made his inner Alpha proud to make the Omega happy. 

“Would you like some dessert?” Y/N asked as she took the plate back to the kitchen.

“I may need to let my stomach settle first,” Curtis admitted. His stomach had stopped roaring at him but now it was feeling uncomfortably full. “I haven’t eaten that well in a very long time and my system needs to…adjust.”

Y/N nodded with a smile and sat back down next to him. “So…ummm. Do you have any questions for me? I know you’ve had no real choice in this but maybe getting to know each other will help?”

Curtis’s brows drew together in confusion, “you actually want to talk?”

Y/N nodded fervently.

“Why?”

“I don’t want to share my nest with a stranger. I know there are people who can do that, some maybe even prefer it, but not me. My next heat isn't for another month and I would like to use that time to become...not strangers.”

"I see. Well, let's start with something basic. Omega lives are shrouded in mystery for those of us outside the tower. How about you tell me what your upbringing was like?"

Y/N started moving in excitement, she was so happy Curtis was being receptive and willing to work with her. "My mother was an Alpha who insisted on teaching me how to do basic things for myself. I learned how to cook and clean at her request, making sure I wouldn't have to rely on someone or something else to do it for me. I learned to take pleasure in getting a task finished and making a good meal! She was a really good mother and would often protect me from...from others. They think I was born with a weird brain or something and were going to throw me out but she helped me. She even worked with Jake on grounding techniques so he could be an effective Emotional Support Beta, allowing me to stay here."

"What about your father?"

Y/N's face went blank and she froze.

“Your father was that bad?”

Y/N started gently wringing her hands, hoping to keep herself calm. She knew this conversation would happen at some point but she wasn’t expecting it so soon. “I could never understand how someone could know the pain they were putting someone else through and not care. His Alphas, including my mother, were not…” She started rocking in her seat and didn’t stop until Curtis put a hand on her wrist. She put her other hand over his and whispered, “thank you.”

“I might need you to return the favor,” Curtis began. “Because I feel like I’m about to pass out.”

Before she could catch him, Curtis fell on the floor, unresponsive and she screamed.

--Part 3--

[demonvampire180writes]

LA's Link to the Sky Chapter 2/3

Find Me on Ao3!

“Excuse me, you did what?” Eddie stares at him from across the kitchen island, eyes wider than the first time Buck told him he and Tommy were on a date and he realized, for the first time, that Tommy was gay.

Buck winces and gives a half tilt of his lips as he replies, “Got a tattoo for Tommy?”

Eddie’s eyeballs look ready to burst, and he’s about to lose his eyebrows to his hairline. The beer he’s holding dangles precariously between two fingers. “Buck. Buddy. Pal. You know that those are permanent, right? It won’t just be a whoopsie daisies if things go sideways.”

Buck glares at the older man. “I’m not stupid, Eddie.”

“No, you’re not,” he agrees, “but sometimes you don’t think about possible consequences.” His eyebrows finally lower and he takes a long swig from his beer. “I know you’re an eternal optimist but… You and Tommy have only been together a few months. You only told him you love him, what, two weeks ago?”

Buck flushes and takes a swig of his own beer so he’s not forced into saying anything. When the heat subsides, he admits, almost to himself he’s so quiet, “I really think… Hope… that he’s my forever, Eddie. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before; not even Abby and I held onto her for nearly a year after she left me.” Silence. Then a drawn out, guttural resigned sigh.

Scrubbing his face roughly, Eddie leans one elbow on the counter and rests his head against his fist as he scrutinizes his best friend. While there’s judgment, Buck feels a sense of warmth and brotherly affection as well. “You really have it bad for him, don’t you?” Buck nods just once, sliding his fingers along the neck of the bottle and collecting the condensation. Swiping back up, he wipes his fingers on his pants and stares at the ground. Talking with Eddie is making him feel a modicum better, but he still feels the tension in his neck.”Well then, you should do what feels right for you. Don’t hesitate. You jumped into the whole ‘dating a guy’ thing with aplomb and haven’t looked back, so maybe don’t start now.”

“Yeah?” Buck twists his fingers together, looking up at Eddie without lifting his head, his eyes wider than a puppy dog trying to look like they didn’t just upturn the trash can and trail its entrails across the kitchen.

Eddie sits up straight and reaches over to clasp Buck’s shoulders, squeezing reassuringly. “Like I said when you told me about your first date; once he knows you’re an idiot, he’ll love you, just like we all already do.” He smirks. “Though this might just have one upped every other thing you’ve ever Bucked up since I met you.” Winking, he drains his beer in a few long dregs and stands. “I gotta get some shopping done so I’m gonna head out. I’ll see you Thursday on shift?” Without waiting for a response he heads for the door.

With a grin on his lips, Buck straightens, with the load of worry lightning on his shoulders, and calls out, “Asshole!” Eddie gives him the finger as he laughs his way out the door, it clicking with a sense of finality behind him.

Finishing his own drink, he heads up to his bedroom in the loft and pulls up Tommy’s contact, eager to see his face now that his secret is hidden beneath his clothing. He hits the video chat button and brightens when, after just one ring, his boyfriend picks up, his gorgeous face beaming back at him.

*

Buck startles at the sound of a loud, low whistle outside the locker room door. Hen stands there, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed over her chest. While she’s grinning, he can already see the question in her eyes. Self-consciously he holds his shirt up a little higher; he’s only just stripped off his street clothes to change into his uniform, and he’s still shirtless, so his chest is bare for anyone to see, and he hasn’t yet told anyone else about his new art. “Did Bucky-boy get a new tat and not tell anyone?” She asks, checking out his pec with discerning eyes. “And do my eyes deceive me or is that maybe something for a specific someone?”

“Morning Hen.” Buck slowly turns away from her, ignoring the fire he feels in his cheeks. He only took off the protective bandage this morning. The skin is still quite pink and plasma oozes from where there’s the heaviest dose of ink.

“Good morning. Don’t avoid my question.” She sinks her claws in, clearly not about to let go. “So, tell me.”

Buck shimmies into his blue LAFD shirt and begins to forcefully tuck it in, drawing the process out so he doesn’t have to face her. “What was the question, again?” He hedges.

Hen sighs dramatically. “C’mon Buck, it’s cute how bad you have it for Tommy.”

“I don’t have it that bad.” He protests, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout as he zips his slacks and fastens the buckle. He can’t prolong the process any longer so he smooths his shirt front and turns to face the paramedic. To his surprise she’s got the softest smile on her lips, her posture relaxed. After what feels like a millenia long silence he sighs with exasperation and admits, “Okay so… Maybe I do have it that bad.” His shoulders roll forward into a slump as he drops his head back, staring into the blinding fluorescent lights.

Hen chuckles and a moment later her warm hands are gripping his shoulders. He lowers just his eyes so he can see her. “There’s nothing wrong with that. You’ve been so much more… authentically yourself since you two started dating. I think he may be part of the missing pieces you were in search of.”

“Yeah?” He slouches into her, coming to rest his head on her shoulder. She rubs his biceps a few times before running a hand through his hair. “You don’t think I’m moving too fast?”

“I think you’re moving at the exact right speed for you. There is no generic right or wrong; every partnership is different. Does he know? About the tattoo I mean?” He rubs his forehead against her shoulder in a headshake.  “Well,from what little I’ve seen, I think you may just break his brain with it. It’s stunning.”

Buck sighs, sinking even more into her, wrapping his arms around her waist in a hug. She hugs him back, squeezing him in the best mama bear hug he’s felt in a long time. “Thanks Hen.”

“No problem, Bucky-boy. Make sure you let me see it up close after it’s healed some more. Don’t forget to keep it clean, and come to me if it starts looking strange or anything.” She lets go and pushes him back, waggling a finger in his face. “Maybe pull back on the impulsive decisions some though. I feel like diving head first into a same sex relationship after a totally unpredicted bi-awakening, and then a new ‘name but not a name’ tattoo, is enough impulsiveness to last the rest of the year.”

Buck lets out a genuine guffaw of laughter, eyes crinkling in the corner. “I’ll be sure to do that Mama Hen, cross my heart and hope to live.” She snorts and gives him a few hard pats right over the fresh ink. He winces and glowers a little as she turns to leave the room. Every single day he feels more and more blessed for inheriting a family that loves him unconditionally, even if they are a little mean to him just for fun sometimes.

He shoves his duffle into his locker and swings it shut, pulling out his phone to call Tommy before his shift starts, missing him after two days of not seeing him in person.

*

Later that shift, Buck steps out of the shower, towel wrapped tightly around his waist. They’d gotten back from back-to-back fires - one a suburban house fire, and another a warehouse - and he was covered in soot and dust. His curls were turned tan from the stuff falling from the sky like snow, and he could feel grit in places he doesn’t want to think about. Thankfully Gerrard finally shows some level of mercy and demands a halt on calls for the next hour, allowing his staff to eat and clean up.

Chimney stands at the wide, wooden, bench in the bathroom outside the shower stalls in just his slacks as he digs through his bag, probably for a razor or a toothbrush. He glances up when Buck approaches, roughly scrubbing at his hair with a second towel. His brother-in-law's eyes grow wider than saucers upon seeing Buck’s new adornment. “Buck, what in the hell is that and does Tommy know?”

It takes him longer than it should to understand what Chimney is asking. He furrows his brow and stares at him for a long second before following his line of sight to his chest. “Oh. This?” He points stupidly at himself, his confusion palpable.

Chimney opens and closes his mouth like a fish a few times, his own brows knitting together. “No, Buck, I mean the other glaringly obvious body art that magically appeared on you since the last time I saw you shirtless. Which isn’t as long ago as it should be.” He leans over and backhands his stomach. “Yes, that.”

Buck can’t help the way his face flushes, heat creeping up his neck. Part of it’s from pleasure, knowing that so far everyone that’s seen it has known exactly who it was for, but also in embarrassment because he knows they know that it was a somewhat impulsive decision. It also probably means that if things go sideways with Tommy… He likely won’t be able to play off what it means to him.

“Um… It’s a tattoo?” Once again it comes out more as a question than a statement. It’s really not hard to understand why others thought him dim a lot of the time.

“Duh.” Chimney says with emphasis, crying out in triumph as he pulls out a metal comb. It’s only then that Buck realizes that the man's own dark hair is damp. Chimney begins to attempt to tame the nest that is his hair as he continues staring deep into the younger man's soul, eyes wide with question. “But that is for Tommy, isn’t it? Or are you just super into cool scenery now and it has absolutely nothing to do with your hot, pilot boyfriend?” He stills and then his eyes widen even further until he almost looks like a cartoon character whose eyes are about to pop from their head. “Wait, wait, wait. Does Maddie know you pulled a stunt like this?”

Buck turns his head and shifts his eyes. “Ma-y-be.” The word drags and he knows that Chimney will know he’s lying. The silence says as much. “Look, I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions.”

The paramedic sighs heavily, and a moment later there’s a firm weight on his shoulder. He turns his head back and finds Chimney standing right next to him now, dark eyes full of understanding. He forgets that Chimney has fallen in love twice and the first time it didn’t work out so well. The second time around? He found his soulmate. Almost more than anyone Chimney understands what it’s like to find someone only to have them ripped out from under him and Buck has gone through that more than most people his age.

“Look, Buck, I get it okay. You and Tommy? You guys belong together. But I can’t help remembering that you felt this way around Abby, too. When you fell, you fell hard. So hard in fact that you broke into pieces when you were finally forced to face gravity and crashed. Then Taylor came around and you latched hard onto her, and we all thought she was your new forever. But… well.” He shrugs. “I’m tired of seeing you get hurt and this,” he gestures at his friend's pec, “worries me because if something does go wrong, that’s a reminder you can’t just get rid of. I’m not sure you’d recover and you’d be forced to remember every single day.”

Warmth pools deep in Buck’s gut as he stares at his brother-in-law with heat pooling in the back of his eyes. His lip trembles as he forces his tears back. “Chimney.” He whimpers.

Chimney grins. “I have faith that you and Tommy will still be together when you’re old and grey. I don’t want to be the one who jinxes it. I see the way you look at him so, if you’re sure, I’ll be sure.” He squeezes Buck’s shoulder again and gives him a gentle shake. “Now put some clothes on. I don’t need to see you naked. That’s your boyfriend's job.” Buck snorts a somewhat wet laugh and wipes at his nose, sending one more prayer of thanks to whomever would listen for bringing him a family that cares for him so deeply he can’t even see the bottom of the well.

*

Maddie bursts into his loft on his day off demanding, “You got a tattoo for Tommy?!” She stomps up to him at the stove and whirls him around to look him in the eye. “Evan Buckley, just what were you thinking?”

He blinks rapidly, trying to force his brain back online after the processing disruption. His eyes flick back to the pan he was stirring a moment ago then back to his sister, brows furrowed. “What?”

Maddie puts her hands on her hips and huffs. “You. Got. A. Tat. Too.”

Still confused, he turns the knob for the burner to the off position and wipes his hands with the tea towel slung over his shoulder - it’s a gift from Tommy, a white and red towel with tiny firetrucks all over it. He refused to use it at first, because he didn’t want to ruin a gift, but within a few weeks it became his go to for cleaning up any messes that wouldn’t stain. Its fibers are soft, and pliant, after so many trips through the washer and Buck adores it. “Y-yeah, so? I’m an adult.”

Maddie’s big eyes go even water and tears brim along the waterline. “Buck. That’s a huge step. Does he even know?”

“Funnily enough Chimney asked the same thing.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “For good reason. A tattoo is permanent. A lifelong commitment. And Chimney says that it’s something very much… You guys.” She shifts a couple of times back and forth on her feet before caving in and approaching her little brother, cupping his face in her hands, stroking along his jaw. She searches deep in his eyes, trying to draw out any hint of regret. 

Buck places his hands over hers and squeezes oh so gently. Lowering his voice he breathes, “I know Maddie. That’s why I got it. I,” he sucks in a sharp breath, broad chest expanding until he could float away like a balloon. “I’m positive t-that Tommy is going to be… Going to be… my forever.” He admits, breath whooshing out in a singular exhale as he admits that out loud. It’s been four days since he marked himself. Four days since he sincerely committed to the idea of forever with a man he’s only known a few months. Four months since he accepted that he’s bi. And he’s never felt more sure of anything in his life.

“I know that this is probably fast, and I-I think for most people it would be but…” He grips her hands and lowers them between themselves.

A single tear rolls down his sister's cheek. “I wasn’t here for it but, from what I’ve been told, you felt this way for Abby and look what happened. She broke you, Buck.” 

He shakes his head and swipes the pad of his thumb under her eye, wiping her tear on his pant leg. “This is different.”

“But how do you know? He’s the first guy you’ve ever dated and he’s almost a decade older than you. Every time you date someone older it ends in disaster.”

Buck looks directly at her as he says, “When you know, you know. Like how you knew Chimney was really it for you this time. Like Bobby knew Athena’s his, along with her kids. It’s like Hen and Karen knowing they were meant to be, even after everything they’ve been through.” He knits his brows together. “I mean yeah, I’ve felt kind of this way before but it was… different. I can’t go more than a few hours without thinking about him. Whenever I learned a fun new fact, or began obsessing over something new, my first thought was always to text you or Eddie but now, he’s the first one I want to tell about anything, good or bad. With Abby I…” He runs a hand through his curls and looks away, getting lost in those distant memories for just a moment. “She had so much going on in her life that I never felt like I could burden her with my own worries but Tommy… Even on his worst days I feel like he still wants to genuinely hear what I have to say. He wants us to work out those bad days together. We’re still separate people but it feels like we could operate as one. Ya know?”

Maddie sniffs. “Buck.” Her voice breaks and she brings the sleeve of her sweater up to her face and wipes first her eyes and then her nose. Her eyes are red rimmed but she’s no longer crying. “You really mean that, don’t you?” He nods, not looking at her.  “You stupid, silly boy.” A breath later he’s wrapped tightly in her arms, her hand holding his head against her shoulder, the other wrapped tightly around his middle. His own eyes prickle as he wraps her up in his own embrace, relishing the feeling of this familial bond.

They hug until Maddie can bring herself to stop sniffling. When she does, she pulls back and pushes him out to arms length with a smirk on her lips. “Well, now that we got that mushy sibling crap out of the way, I think it’s time you show me this symbol of eternal love.”

Buck snorts and proceeds to bat her hands away. “Gaze upon my skin in awe, sister, for it is awesome.” She playfully protests as he begins to lift the corner of his shirt, yelling my eyes, my eyes as she mock cowers away. They continue to banter back and forth even as she comes closer to examine the peeling tattoo, tracing over the delicate lines and oohing and awing over its awesomeness.

Once she’s had her fill, she steps back. Seriously she says, “He’s going to love it, Buck. Not just because he loves you.” The tips of his ears turn pink. “But next time you do something like this you had better tell me first. Eddie may be your best friend but I’m your sister and that takes priority.” 

“I make zero promises.” He dances away, giggling like a little boy as she chases after him with her arm raised, ready to hit and main him, even if only in gest.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

[mianavs]

Love Me Wrong [02 ; Resolve]

content: amnesia, abuse, manipulation, smut, noncon/extremely dubcon, fauxcest, exhibitionism, drug-use

featuring: sanzu x reader, mikey x reader, rindou, and ran

note: life has been hectic but i managed to finish this chapter. mikey and sanzu are their owns warnings. dark content ahead so minors can not-so kindly f*ck off! also, feel free to reblog, drop an ask, or leave a comment! no beta we die like [redacted]

words: 3.8k

other: masterlist ; @tometpd ; @hanayanetwork ; @tokyoredlightdistrict

The waiting game was one Sanzu knew quite well. It was one he’d been playing since he was a teen and one that had gotten him to his current position as Bonten’s second-in-command. He’d bided his time until he managed to run away from home–even if Takeomi eventually wormed his way into his life. He’d endured countless beatings from other gang members until meeting his teacher, Muto, who taught him how to reel in his rage and weaponize it for Toman. He’d even waited oh-so patiently for said teacher to get out of jail and serve him the sentence he deserved for betraying their King. Sanzu enjoyed the waiting game because the rewards reaped outweighed the work he put in.

Which was why he didn’t mind waiting for Mikey’s absolute trust because there was nothing he wanted more in this world and he would do everything to gain it–even babysitting Kisaki’s sister as she lay in bed, unconscious and with a bandage over her injured head.

The pathetic woman had been out for days, although he wasn’t exactly sure how many due to the drugs he took to keep his demons at bay during the long hours of the night. Demons that had haunted him ever since he first stripped a person of their life by order of his King.

He’d been looking forward to killing the woman beside him and finally scrubbing clean the ugly stain Kisaki had managed to leave behind despite his beautiful death all those years ago. Hanma had been a delight to eliminate, all desperation and rage Sanzu had never seen on the man once known as the ‘God of Death’. But for all of Hanma’s delectable emotions flashing across his face before the life left his eyes, Sanzu’s bloodthirst hadn’t been quenched. He’d been given a mission by his King to takeout Hanma and Kisaki’s sister and had only killed one before his King changed his decree and decided to take in the whore that’d been stealthfully hidden away all these years.

So Sanzu did what he knew best, he waited until Kisaki’s sister woke up before locking her inside the room and retrieving Mikey, who’d just arrived from a meeting with the Haitani’s.

“She just woke up, Mikey,” Sanzu informed him, unable to mask the excitement that tinged his words. “Do you wan–”

Without a word, Bonten’s leader passed his number two and stalked to the room where the woman was locked away. Sanzu tried not to dwell on the unusual briskness of Mikey’s walk and quickly joined him to unlock and open the door for him.

“Be careful, Mikey, she mi–”

Again, Mikey ignored Sanzu and walked into the room that’d been made into a makeshift hospital room, beeping monitors and sterile smells included.

Sanzu had been prepared to restrain and even kill the woman if she dared to attack Mikey and wrapped his hand around the enclosed knife in his pocket as he walked inside, ready to pull it out if need be, but the reality of the situation was much different.

Kisaki’s sister was still in bed and connected to the IV. The only difference being she was awake and sitting up, with a confused look on her face. There was none of the terror he’d seen on her days ago, only a foggy filter over orbs that had been filled with a torrent of emotions.

Sanzu wondered if he was going through a residual high but his unspoken query was answered by a single look in Mikey’s direction, who actually looked confused albeit in his own muted manner. Distracted by the glimmer of something in Mikey’s pools of black, Sanzu failed to notice the woman’s eyes darting between the two men before finding her voice.

“Where am… no, who are y– AH!”

Tearing his gaze from Mikey, Sanzu watched as the woman clutched her bandaged head and started shaking as if in pain.

“I-I-I… can’t remember… only my first name… b-but everything else… ” Her voice broke off, foggy eyes filled up with tears, and her bottom lip trembled before she buried her head between her legs and wailed.

Sanzu wanted nothing more than to put a bullet through her head to stop her shrill cries but just when he was going to ask Mikey for permission, his leader made his way to the wailing woman despite Sanzu’s protest.

“Mikey wait! You shou–”

It was too late, however, and Mikey had taken Sanzu’s seat at the woman’s bedside, gazing at her with something other than impassiveness. No, his usual vacant eyes held a glimmer of interest in their depths that Sanzu now realized wasn’t a trick of the light.

And the suspicion he had pushed down as nothing more than a paranoid thought resulting from his affinity for pills, proved true when the amnesiac woman’s eyes widened with something disguised as recognition upon taking Mikey in.

“I know that name,” she mumbled before looking away and clutching the sheets over her legs. Sanzu could almost see the deformed cogs in her head forcefully turning to try and make sense out of the situation. At the possibility of her memory returning, a wave of panic coursed through Sanzu, and Mikey, himself, visibly stiffened, no doubt having the same thought.

“Invincible Mikey… and brother… my brother,” her eyes darted back at Mikey, but they held no malice. On the contrary, there was only hope there mixed in with affection that caused Sanzu’s throat to catch. The deformed cogs stubbornly rammed into place but instead of turning with ease with a gentle whir, they moved in strained jerks and produced a grating noise.

“You’re my brother, aren’t you?” She concluded, but instead of breaking her neck at the disgusting notion, Mikey’s lips twitched into a smile.

“Yes,” he replied, in that hollow voice of his that Sanzu loved so much. “I’m your big brother, Mikey.”

It had been a week since the woman woke up and started calling Mikey ‘brother’. A week since she started moving around the Bonten penthouse, cooking, cleaning, and doing everything she could to please Mikey. A week of her simpering and following Mikey around like a puppy eager to please its master. It all made Sanzu sick to his stomach until he eventually lashed out.

“Mi-key! Do you want to try the cake I made?” She asked, hounding Mikey as soon as he walked through the front door after a long day of disappointing meetings and dismal audits around the city with Sanzu.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” Sanzu snarled, yanking her away by the wrist. “We just got back and you’re already bitching and moaning.”

Her eyes immediately glazed over with tears as she whimpered in pain. “I-I was just trying to–”

“Enough,” Mikey growled and a swift silence spread across the room. He turned to the woman and actually glowered at her while she merely stood there, motionless, as tears trailed down her horror-stricken face. “Wait for me in your room.”

If she thought tears would be enough to soften Bonten’s leader, Mikey quickly shut down that notion, addressing her like the nuisance she was. At Mikey’s order, Sanzu was happy to release her and grinned as she scurried away, white lace panties peeking underneath her short frilly dress as she did.

Sanzu turned to Mikey only to find his black eyes trained on her receding form and a grin playing on his lips.

“Do you still hate Kisaki’s sister?”

After a week of Mikey playing up the brother facade and prohibiting Sanzu from harming the woman, he wasn’t sure he’d heard his King correctly. Unsure of how to respond, Sanzu waited with bated breath for Mikey to repeat the question.

“Don’t you think it’s about time we put her in her place?”

“Yes,” was Sanzu’s immediate response and he flexed his hands in anticipation. “It’s about time that whore gets what she deserves.”

Mikey chuckled and Sanzu felt the vibration all the way in his pants.

“A whore, huh?” His King mused and turned to him, placing a hand on Sanzu’s shoulder. “Meet me in her room and bring a condom.”

Sanzu bit back a moan and managed a nod, a myriad of images filling his head. Mikey, naked and spread, on a bed. Mikey’s thin pale back arched, ass up, and hole twitching and begging to be filled. Mikey’s face flushed and twisted in pleasure as Sanzu deep-throated his cock.

“Of course,” Sanzu hummed but Mikey had already left, making his way to the woman’s room.

Had the circumstances been different, Sanzu would’ve been livid at the sight of Mikey entering her room, but they weren’t. Mikey had extended an invitation to him to finally give Kisaki’s sister what she deserved, so Sanzu rushed to his room, retrieved a condom, and walked out only to bump into Rindou, the younger Haintani.

“You’re happy,” the stoic man commented and, had Sanzu not glanced at him, he would have missed the upwards tug of his mouth.

While his brother was rather infamous for his playful demeanor, Sanzu had known Rindou long enough to discern his mischievous smirk; he knew something that Sanzu didn’t.

“Mikey’s decided to finally punish Kisaki’s sister,” Sanzu replied, clutching the sealed condom in his fist. Lilac eyes zeroed in on his hand before the curl of his mouth deepened until there was no denying the shit-eating grin on his face.

“Ah, so she’s back to being Kisaki’s sister?” He drawled, crossing his arms over his chest. Why the sudden change?”

“She’s been too clingy. It’s about time Mikey put an end to the farce and sent her to hell with her brother.”

There was a gleam in Rindou’s eye. “I doubt Mikey will actually kill her after having Koko order all those interesting… toys for her.”

Sanzu’s mood soured at that. “What are you talking about? What toys?”

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough,” the younger Haitani chuckled and shook his head slightly, strands of lilac and navy blue flowing to and fro, before leaving a seething Sanzu.

When it came to irritability, Ran’s whimsical demeanor might have been the most consistent but Rindou’s sadistic and sporadic bursts had more of a punch, making him the more annoying brother in Sanzu’s opinion.

Just as Sanzu was about to head over to join Mikey, the faint throbbing in his temples increased exponentially into sharp jabs of pain. Used to his body’s reaction to the lack of medication, he reached into his waist pocket and pulled out the tin case he used to carry his pills. He reached inside the clear plastic baggy and pulled out a singular bi-colored capsule before popping it into his mouth and swallowing it dry.

The sight that greeted Sanzu did little to improve his mood. Kisaki’s whore of a sister sat on her bed while Mikey stood in front of her, holding her chin in his delicate hand, and brushing his thumb across her bottom lip. Mikey’s expression was as unreadable as ever while the woman’s cheeks were dusted with pink as she looked up at the man she believed was her brother.

“Do you understand, Y/N?” Mikey asked, tightening his grip until her brows furrowed and she squirmed in pain.

“Yes!” she gasped before Mikey released her harshly and turned around to face Sanzu.

“How would you like to be the first to try her?” He asked, quirking his head to the side as he approached the taller man. “Bonten’s whore?”

“W-what?” Sanzu sputtered, struggling to get a grasp on Mikey’s proposal as the drug’s effects kicked in.

“Teach this so-called whore a lesson and fuck her cunt,” he replied coldly, fixing Sanzu with an admonishing look. “Just don’t kill her.”

Without giving Sanzu a chance to respond, Mikey strolled over to the armchair across from the bed and sat down, eyes zeroing in on the woman hunched on the edge of the bed.

“Strip.”

With an obedience Sanzu didn’t know she possessed, the woman slowly got on her feet and pressed her lips into a thin line as she blinked away unshed tears.

“Now!” Mikey barked with a ferocity that even made Sanzu jolt. The woman whimpered but gripped the hem of her dress and pulled it up, revealing her thighs, lacy underwear, stomach, and finally her breasts before pulling the garment over her head and setting it on the bed.

While Sanzu had never been one to seek out the company of whores the way Bonten’s other members did, he found there was something alluring about Kisaki’s sister as she stripped. The tremble of her hands as they went to work discarding her clothing, the rise of goosebumps over the expanse of her skin, the quiver of her chin and glaze of tears over her eyes, and finally the peaking of her nipples from being exposed to the air.

She was terrified and that was enough to send blood rushing to Sanzu’s cock as she set her underwear over her dress and stood naked before him.

Without Mikey’s prompting, Sanzu’s arm shot out and took hold of her throat, fingers digging into the flesh. She gasped and Sanzu felt her muscles tighten as she struggled to draw air and clawed at his hand. He backed her onto the bed and released her before Mikey reprimanded him, admiring her fallen form and the imprint of his hand on her neck.

Sanzu’s erection strained painfully against his slacks and he fumbled in undoing his zipper, his movements impaired by his high that had come all at once. When he finally released his cock and slipped on the condom, his vision had already grown fuzzy while his senses were heightened to the point that a couple of pumps had a bead of precum coating the slit.

“Fuck,” Sanzu groaned as he approached the now-trembling woman whose wide eyes were fixed on his erect cock. She started to scramble backward on the bed but Sanzu was quicker despite his altered state of mind. He climbed onto the bed, kneeled between her legs, and leaned over her form, pinning her down by the arms while she thrashed her head.

“Y/N~” Mikey’s voice cooed as he stood up and walked over to the bed. “Remember what you told me? What is your reason for living?”

“T-to make my brother happy.” Mikey’s “sister” sniveled and all of her fight melted away as she tearfully gazed at Mikey.

“And what makes me happy?” He prompted with a smile that didn’t meet his black hollow eyes.

“Bonten’s happiness,” she whispered, utterly defeated before tearing her eyes away from Mikey and setting them on Sanzu. They were as empty as Mikey’s, and for a moment, Sanzu believed the lie Mikey had been feeding the woman ever since she woke up.

“Sanzu’s happiness.”

After that admission, Mikey’s sister stopped struggling against Sanzu.

She merely whimpered as Sanzu’s hands gripped her thighs and threw her legs over his, let silent tears stream down her face as his cockhead prodded at the entrance of her cunt, and only cried out when he forced his way into her tight insides that uselessly tried to force him out.

Once he was fully seated inside of her, Sanzu gripped her waist and moaned at the feel of her engulfing him. Her warm walls were tighter than any other hole he’d fucked, closing around his cock and clenching him enough to almost hurt. The pain seemed to be mutual as her muscles tightened and her back arched off the mattress from the intrusion.

It took a couple of fast shallow strokes against her anterior wall but eventually the woman’s cunt loosened and her warm insides started to lubricate themselves enough for Sanzu to slide in and out of her with ease.

Her arms and torso writhed underneath his hold and noises tore from her lips but instead of fighting him, the woman encouraged him. Her hands gripped the sheets, back arched to take more of him, and a series of moans and whines echoed in the room along with the sound of his thrusts.

So lost in his lust, Sanzu forgot about Mikey’s presence in the room until he opened his eyes and found the woman’s head turned toward her “brother”. Mikey was still seated on the armchair but instead of his usual disinterest, he watched Sanzu and his “sister” intently as they fucked while he palmed himself. Transfixed by the sight of Mikey’s lidded coal eyes and parted lips, Sanzu’s felt his orgasm creep upon him.

His thrusts grew erratic as he continued to watch Mikey’s pale hand move up and down over his tented pants. It wasn’t until the woman’s cunt contracted deliciously against his cock that he realized she was also watching Mikey.

“F-Fuck!” Sanzu groaned and adjusted their position until his cock kissed her cervix with each snap of his hips. The woman’s walls fluttered and she turned into a babbling mess as Sanzu started rubbing her engorged clit vigorously, determined to see her through an orgasm for his pleasure.

“Cum for me, slut.” He growled, capturing her attention. “Cum on my fucking cock.”

“Ah— S’good! I-I can’t! M’gonna–”

When she finally peaked, her eyes shut tightly and her entire body tensed. What drove Sanzu to his climax, however, were the intense spasms of her cunt that clenched impossibly tight around his throbbing cock until his warm release filled the condom he wore.

Sanzu was still inside her when he let his body fall forward, catching himself with his forearms before his entire weight fell on the woman underneath him. It was a rare moment of weakness as a result of his exertion, drugged-out state, and the warmth of her body. He’d only meant to stay like that to catch his breath but before he knew it, a pair of arms draped around his torso.

It was too weak to be called a hug but too intimate to be deemed an accident, but Sanzu didn’t care and simply let it happen, relaxing against her touch.

Looking back, he’d realize that was the moment he started to feel something other than hatred and disgust toward Y/N Kisaki. Feelings that would grow into something that rivaled the possessiveness brewed in Mikey from the moment she woke up and claimed him as her “brother.”

“Get off her,” Mikey snarled and, before Sanzu could react, he was pulled off the woman and landed on the ground.

His King glowered down at him with a look he’d only seen a couple of times over the span of time Sanzu had known him. It was a look of murderous rage that’d made grown men at the receiving end of it piss themselves. A look that had once given Sanzu so much pleasure to see that now shot fear down his spine, leaving him too stunned to move.

“Get. Out.”

Like a jolt of electricity coursing through his body, Sanzu jumped to his feet and fled the scene before he could even remove the condom still on his dick. It wasn’t until he was outside that he straightened himself out and discarded the used contraceptive in the nearest wastebasket while wondering if he’d managed to gain Mikey’s absolute trust or if he’d managed to ruin years of work in a moment of weakness.

“Is the water warm enough, Y/N?”

Gone was any remnant of the rage Mikey had directed at Sanzu and there was only genuine concern laced to his voice and etched onto his face. You were still dumbfounded by his sudden change and all you could manage was a stiff nod, keeping your eyes fixed on the rising water filling the oversized bathtub.

“Then why are you huddled over and shivering?” He asked innocently, setting down your hair and body products over the towel draped on the small wooden table adjacent to the tub. Satisfied with the water level, he circled to the faucet that faced you and turned it off. His eyes traveled up to your form and shamelessly took you in, black eyes lingering on your chest.

“Um… I can bathe myself, Mikey.” You responded, drawing your knees up to your chest and straightening up. “You d-don’t need to watch over me.”

He hummed as he kneeled next to the tub and passed a soapy washcloth through the water before running it across your back.

“I’m not sure you’ll be able to clean yourself properly,” he mused, pushing down your knees and exposing your chest to him. He wore a saccharine smile that made your stomach turn as he took his time lathering your breasts in soap, rubbing your nipples until they hardened.

A knock at the door made you jolt whereas Mikey continued his ministrations, not even stopping to look at Ran who strolled in with a bundle of clothes in hand. You tried turning your body away from Mikey’s hand and Ran’s curious gaze, but your brother held you in place with his free hand and continued groping your breasts as if Ran Haitani wasn’t standing next to him.

“I brought the clothes you asked for, Boss.” Ran drawled, averting his lilac eyes from your naked form before Mikey could catch him staring.

“Leave them on the sink counter and leave.” Bonten’s leader replied, shooting his subordinate a cursory glance.

“There’s also something else,” Ran continued after he set down the clothes you assumed were yours to change into. Mikey’s hand stopped and you took advantage of the moment to cover yourself with your arms.

“What is it?” Your brother asked, his voice as sharp as a knife, and turned to the Bonten executive, who stiffened under the intensity of Mikey’s glare.

“Takeomi arrived with time-sensitive information,” Ran replied, much better at dealing with Mikey’s fury than Sanzu. “He requests your immediate presence.”

The washcloth was thrown into the water with a loud slap, droplets of soapy water splashing across your arms and face. You let out a yelp and cowered to the other side of the tub, away from Mikey and his rage.

“Let’s go.”

You didn’t know whether to thank Ran or curse him. On one hand, he’d saved you from enduring more of Mikey’s “special attention” to your body after witnessing your coupling with Sanzu and stirring up depraved emotions you never wanted to revisit. Yet, on the other hand, he’d angered Mikey and took him away before Mikey could have his fill of you, something you’d come to realize he disliked more than your overbearing antics.

As if he could read your thoughts, Ran Haitani looked over his shoulder and shot you a smirk before turning away and leading Mikey through the door, shutting it behind him. Finally alone after everything you’d been subjected to, you closed your eyes and let your body relax and sink underneath the lukewarm water, knowing things would never be the same.

[triptuckers]

Drunken words - Kaz Brekker

Request: yes "Hi, I have just binge read almost all of your shadow and bone one shots and was wondering if you could do one where f!reader goes out drinking with Nina and when she comes back drunk she accidentally confesses her love for Kaz but doesn’t remember it when she wakes up and Kaz doesn’t mention it but he also loves her?" Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader Summary: You wake up with a pounding headache and some very vague memories of the night before. Luckily Nina is there to help you remember Warnings:  mentions of alcohol/drinking, language Word count: A/N: mmm see this? this request right here? I like it 😌 thanks for requesting it! TAG LIST (grishaverse): @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15 @dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 @marlenaisnthappy @brekker-zenik @just-deka @graceknxwlson @the-very-tired-mess TAG LIST (kaz brekker): @mufnasa @Janesofia7 @stairscortana @parker-natasha @illicitghosts @brick-by-brick553 add yourself to my tag lists here

Every last Friday of the month, you go out for drinks with Nina. It's a tradition you started a while back. You'd gotten back from a particular rough job, and Nina suggested to go and have a drink. The others were tired, so you were the only one to accompany her. Ever since, the two of you go out every last Friday of the month.

Sometimes you both make it back in time, sometimes you don't show up til morning. And sometimes you're leaning heavily on each other, giggling and laughing.

The crows didn't mind now, though they were a bit concerned at the beginning. But after you showed them that even drunk, Jesper is only a slightly better shot than you are, they trusted you to come back home alright.

On one Friday night, you and Nina stumble into the kitchen of the Slat somewhere around 2 am. You're surprised to see it's not empty.

Kaz is sitting in one of the chairs, and he looks up when you and Nina try to silently enter the building. You fail when you stumble and squeal as you hold on to Nina's arm to prevent yourself from falling.

Nina seemed to be less drunk than you are. At least she can stand on her own feet.

Kaz' eyes follow you as Nina drags you to the kitchen to get you a glass of water, hoping it would sober you up a little.

You hop on the counter and take the glass from Nina without protest. When you look at Kaz, you see he's turned his gaze away from you.

'Aren't you going to ask if we had fun?' you say, pouting slightly.

Kaz looks at you. You're wearing a dress that's only reserved for nights out with Nina. You're also wearing heels and though you'd styled your hair nicely before you went out, it's now messy as it falls over your shoulders.

'You look like you had fun.' says Kaz. 'But I'll ask anyway. Did you have fun?'

'Yesss.' you say, dragging out the word. You don't look up when Nina puts a new glass of water in your hand.

'You should come sometimes.' you say to Kaz.

He merely raises an eyebrow, and doesn't answer you.

'I don't think Kaz is the type of person who goes out a lot.' says Nina.

'But it's fun!' you say somewhat offendedly. 'If anyone needs to let loose every once in a while, it's Kaz.'

'How so?' says Nina, chuckling.

'His jaw is always clenched.' you point out.

'No it's not.' says Kaz.

You nod, smiling happily. 'Yea it is! Don't think I wouldn't notice, I look at you a lot.' you say.

'Do you, now?' says Kaz, not paying much attention to you, as you're drunk and probably not aware of what you're saying.

'Most of the time. All of the time.' you say. 'Just a lot, really.'

'You're drunk, Y/N.' says Kaz. 'You should go to bed.'

'Night's not over yet!' you say and you jump off the counter, spilling some of the water on yourself. 'We could still go out! You should join us, Kaz.'

'I think you should go to bed, Y/N.' says Nina.

You glare at her over your shoulder. 'Buzz killer.' you say.

Nina puts up her hands in defence. 'I'm just saying tonight I'm not going out anymore, I'm going to bed. And you should too.' she says.

When she walks past you, she gives you a new glass of water. You're not aware of taking it, but you drink half of it anyway.

'Nina, you should stay.' you say when she walks to the door. 'Don't leave me alone with Kaz!'

'Why not?' says Kaz immediately, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You turn to him, then back to Nina. 'Nina! Don't leave me alone with Kaz, you know I say stupid shit when I'm drunk!' you say.

She looks over her shoulder. 'You say a lot of things when you're drunk, Y/N. At least drunk words are sober thoughts.' she says as she walks away.

'Nina come back! I might end up exposing myself!' you say.

This makes Nina stop and turn around. She looks at you and frowns.

'Expose yourself how?' she says.

'I might tell Kaz I love him.' you whisper, loud enough for everyone to hear.

You see Nina's eyes go wide. Before you can say anything, or turn around to look at Kaz, Nina's marched up to you, grabbed a hold of your arm and is pulling you up the stairs.

In the doorway, you look over your shoulder at Kaz.

There's an odd expression on his face you can't quite read, you've never seen it before. He doesn't look at you as you start to walk up the stairs with Nina's help.

You barely register anything after that moment, the exhaustion suddenly kicking in. You fall down on your bed without even taking your heels off.

The next morning, you wake with a pounding headache despite all the water Nina made you drink. You push yourself up in a sitting position and rub your head.

None of the crows had been so stupid to wake you. Everyone knew the last Friday of the month was spent drinking, and the morning after it would be unwise to wake you or Nina before noon.

After stripping off your tight dress and heels, you take a hot bath, scrubbing all of the sweat of last night off of your skin.

You get dressed in comfortable clothes and head downstairs to get a big cup of coffee.

But when you want to enter the kitchen, you are met by Nina standing in the doorway.

'Oh good, you're up.' she says.

'Morning.' you say. 'How's your headache?'

'Almost over.' she says. 'Don't go into the kitchen.'

'Why not?' you say, frowning.

'Because Kaz is there.' says Nina.

'What, is he in a bad mood or something?' you say.

'No. But he hasn't said anything all morning.' she says.

'So he's normal.' you say, pushing past Nina.

She attempts to stop you, but you walk away from her, straight to the fresh pot of coffee. You pour yourself a generous amount of it, and then sit at the same table Kaz is sitting at.

He looks at you, but doesn't say anything.

'You good?' you say after a while. 'I'm sure that's the longest you've ever looked at me. Have I got something on my face?'

Kaz shakes his head.

'Then why are you looking at me like that?' you say.

'Do you remember anything from last night?' asks Kaz.

You squint your eyes, trying to remember.

'Nina and I played card games with some Zemeni tourists. They lost. Then we lost. Then we lost again. I don't think I threw up, though. I remember walking back to the Slat and going to bed.' you say.

'That's all?' says Kaz.

'Yeah, I think that's it.' you say. 'Why?'

'Just curious.' says Kaz.

'You're never just curious, Kaz, you always have a reason. What's this all about?' you say.

'Fine.' he says. 'I have a bet with Jesper, how much you would remember. It appears he needs to pay me.'

He gets up and without another word, he leaves the room. Your eye catches Nina's gaze and you shrug, turning back to your coffee.

'Did I do something stupid last night?' you say. Most of the times when you got drunk, you did stupid stuff. You wonder if last night would have been any different.

'Well.' says Nina as she sits down in front of you. 'That depends.'

'On what?' you say as you finish your coffee.

'You should talk to Kaz about that.' says Nina. 'He doesn't have a bet with Jesper.'

'Then why would he leave like that?' you say.

'Again, you should talk to him about that.' says Nina.

'What aren't you telling me, Nina?' you say.

You see her debating wether or not she should tell you.

'Tell me or I'll tell everything how horrible you dance when you get drunk.' you threaten.

'You told kaz you love him.' she blurts out.

Your eyes widen. 'Oh no.' you say. 'No, no, no, I did not. Fuck.'

'Well, you didn't exactly tell him. You told me not to leave you alone because you might end up telling him.' says Nina

You bury your face in your hands. 'Oh, Saints, this is bad.' you say. 'This is really fucking bad.'

'How so?' says Nina.

'He's still technically our boss, Nina. And there's no way he has the same feelings for me.' you say.

'You won't know unless you ask him.' says Nina.

'What would I even say to him?' you say.

Nina shrugs. 'Well you could sit here thinking about it, or go up to his office and talk to him.' she says.

You shake your head and rub a hand over your face. 'Fuck.' you mutter. 'You're probably right.'

'I always am, darling.' says Nina.

You finish your cup of coffee and get up. Nina gestures for you to start walking. You head to the stairs and walk them as slowly as you can.

Would he be mad? What if things would forever be awkward between the two of you? Maybe if you were fast, you could still take it back. You were drunk, you could tell him you didn't mean it.

You stop in front of the door to Kaz' office. You determinedly raise a hand to knock on it, but your fist only hovers mid-air.

'It helps if you actually knock.'

You jump slightly at the sound of a voice. When you turn around, you see Kaz standing behind you.

'Or you could just go in if you have a key.' he says, walking up to the door and pulling out his key.

You're at loss for words, watching as Kaz opens the door and head inside. You're still standing in the doorway when Kaz looks up.

'You can come in, you know.' he says.

You enter his office and slowly close the door. He did not seem bothered by last night at all.

'We need to talk.' you say.

Kaz looks at you and merely raises an eyebrow at you. He gestures to the chair in front of his desk and you sit down.

'About last night.' you say. 'Nina told me what I said. I didn't say it to you, but, well I might as well have. I was drunk and it was stupid, and I'm here to apologise.'

He looks at you and then he starts to smile. Your eyes widen a bit, you'd never seen Kaz smile. Let alone smile at you.

'Are you okay?' you say hesitantly.

'Y/N, I wasn't in my office when you got here because I was at your door.' says Kaz, his words taking you by surprise.

'Why?' you wonder out loud.

'I was going to bring you a glass of water, Nina once told me it helps when you're hungover.' says Kaz.

Your lips part in surprise. 'You were?' you say.

'That saying Nina said last night, drunken words are sober thoughts? Well, I'm glad your drunken self decided to speak the truth last night.' says Kaz.

You stare at him, not sure you heard it correctly. Kaz pulls a stack of papers toward him and begins to read through them. He doesn't tell you that you need to go, so you decide to keep him company while he works.

Who knew a night out with Nina could lead to something like this?

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[whaleofatjme1920]

Oh god please, more cheating and angst (hoodie? Tim? 👀👀👀) Idk u just write it so good and my aching heart feels better oddly because of it. I fuckn love angst djsjsjjdjdjd

Full Moon and Being A Horrible Person

[Masky X F!Reader]

[Warnings: language, physical cheating]

[AN: i love angst too]

The full moon makes us do weird things, it’s been well documented. From the people bouncing off the walls to inducing labor, all the way to making us make questionable decisions, the full moon is to blame, not him.

It was a full moon when he caught the eyes of a woman with dark, sweet chocolate colored eyes. She looked so beautiful under the lights of the bar, yellow illuminating her skin like it was gold.

She’d been flirting with him across the bar the entire night. Wry smiles, tapping her fingernails against the glass, twirling her dark hair and giggling when he caught her eyes and by extension, her attention.

“You know Reader isn’t gonna be happy with your behavior,” Hoodie had lightly chided him before downing more of his beer. “Why don’t you let me take over? I haven’t-”

“No,” Tim laughed, pushing at his best friend’s shoulder. “It’s harmless flirting,” he finished, watching Hoodie’s expression from the corner of his eye.

“If Reader was doing this, would you consider it harmless flirting?”

Kate excused herself from her conversation with one of the ladies from the booth behind the table she and her group shared, then turned her attention to her group leader. “He has a point,” she said, grinning when Hoodie leaned over the table to high-five her.

Tim rolled his eyes and began to lazily swish his drink. “It’s nothing, I promise.”

“You mean to say you haven’t emptied your balls in a few weeks and you’re desperate,” Hoodie deadpans, breaking his blank expression when Kate loudly laughs.

“Again, he has a point,” Kate smirked. “C’mon, let Hoodie or Toby take this one. Neither of them are in relationships and are less likely to get attached.”

Tim raises a brow at Kate. “Attached? What does that mean?”

Hoodie shares a look with the woman across from him who nods at him to explain what exactly she means. “She uh,” Hoodie awkwardly sips at his beer before biting the bullet completely. “C’mon man, you have an addictive personality. Pills, cigarettes, Reader…” He trails off before Tim hisses and punches Hoodie’s shoulder, roughly. Hoodie only barks a laugh and raises his hand up in submission. “I’m right, I’m always right!” He manages to choke out through remaining giggles.

“Can we just drop it for now?” Tim growls.

Kate rolls her eyes and then pulls a face to Hoodie, who stifles his laughter just barely before she turns back to her conversation with the ladies from the booth behind her. She’s up and out of her seat following a group of them to the other side of the bar, giggling and laughing as a woman with short pink hair holds her hand and weaves her through the crowds.

Hoodie feigns innocence before standing up. “I’m gonna find Tobes, who knows what he’s doing. Tearing up the dance floor, maybe?”

Tim watches as his best friend shuffles out from his seat, beer still in hand as he disappears into the sea of people. He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. His dark eyes scan the bustling room full of bright, rainbow colored strobe lights and too loud music only to catch a glimpse of the full moon outside. It’s tinged pink, and seems to blossom the longer he looks at it. Due to where they’re currently at in the city, he can’t see the stars - much too much light pollution. A sigh is about to escape his lips when he feels a hand brushing over his, pulling him from the light of the full moon and onto the woman he’d been flirting quietly with all night.

“Never thought I’d get you alone,” she says, voice sweet like honey and smoother than silk.

Tim thinks about his words, his group’s chiding before mentally shrugging off all responsibilities. “I know, right?” He replies, voice low and deep, something charming and sweet.

She grins like the Cheshire Cat before playfully biting her lip. “I’m just passing through here,” she begins, “maybe we could… Have a few more drinks then head back to my hotel room?”

Tim feels a slight blush come to his cheeks before swallowing it back down. He smirks, leaning into her presence. “I’d love nothing more.”

The two of them knock back a few more drinks, the woman mostly choosing fruity things and Tim sticking to whiskey. Their touches become more and more bold, and their words more lusty and obscene by the moment. He has her sit on his lap and he whispers all the nasty things he wants to do to her and she gobbles it up, giggles and soft licks to the shell of his ear driving him up a wall.

And then, he follows her to her hotel. It’s a tangle of lips smashing against lips, hearts beating in sync and hands grabbing in the most inappropriate of places. Her clothes lie on the floor before getting covered up by his, her body following in suit.

Tim takes her. He drinks her in full and has her seeing the stars that were once only gazed upon by you. He touches her in ways you’ve never been touched and allows her to touch him in ways he’d always claimed were ‘too much’ for him.

When the deed is done, he’s cuddling her much like he would cuddle you, cigarette in his mouth and bliss on his face.

Tim stayed the night.

The next morning, he’s so groggy that he doesn’t even realize he’s still got her lipstick stains on his skin. He gets back in his car (failing to realize his group had to either walk back to the temp or hitch with someone else), and heads back to the only true home he’d ever considered.

It’s a few hours to your place, but he makes it, and that’s all that matters. Your car isn’t in the driveway, so he lets himself in. A quiet stumble to the bathroom and he sees he looks like a mess. The weight of what he did to you begins to sink in.

Tim turns the shower on and strips off his clothing - the clothes still linger with her perfume before he hops in and begins to furiously scrub at his skin. Tears well in his eyes. How could he do that to you? What kind of common sense was he lacking in that moment?

He continues to scrub, slowly coming to the realization that he’s going to do whatever it takes to hide this from you - you can never know. It was the light of the full moon, people always act crazy when the moon is in that phase, and he was drunk, like really drunk.

Excuses, excuses.

The water stops right when he hears the front door open. He hears your voice. You’re greeting him sweetly, like you always do.

He takes in a deep breath. You can never know.

It was only inevitable that you’d find out, though he’s surprised you went as long as you did without knowing. Tim hid it from you for months, and he probably could’ve kept it longer if he didn’t come with you to Target when you asked. You’d always been a fan of late night store runs, and he hadn’t gone on one with you in a while… What harm could it possibly do?

A lot. A lot of harm that surfaced the truth.

“I should’ve cuffed you when I had a chance!” The woman giggled as she came up beside you as you looked at the early Halloween decorations.

You raised a brow. “Excuse me?” You looked over to your boyfriend, whose face had gone pale. “I think you have the wrong…”

“You’re a lucky girl, y’know that?” She continued, brushing off your words. “He took me to the moon.” Her voice was so sultry and decadent. “Hope he takes you to the moon as well,” she says, her fingers trailing Tim’s arm.

He pulls away from her. “W...Who are you?” He says, attempting to sound confused.

The woman pulls a face before looking in between the two of you, her dark eyes glancing and putting together the pieces. Instead of being embarrassed or ashamed, she chuckles and begins to take off again. “I did you a favor, honey,” she calls over her shoulder, hips swaying as she turns down another aisle.

You don’t want to admit it, but now you know why Tim’s been so weird lately and nicer than usual. Sure, Tim is a sweet guy, but his behavior the past few months has been OVERLY nice, and now you know why. “What was that?” You ask, eyes narrowing and tears welling.

“Nothing, let’s just pay and get out-”

“I wanna go home.”

Tim moves to rest his hand on your shoulder, but you recoil as if you’d been burned.

A huge argument ensued when the two of you got back into the car, lots of harsh words were traded. He tried reasoning with you, he tried telling you how much he loved you, he tried everything in his power but he’d ruined a good thing.

You ended up pulling over on the side of the road, slamming the breaks, tears in your eyes and turned to him. “Give me the key to my house.”

“What? No-”

“Give. Me. The. Key. Tim,” you hiss, punctuating every word with stronger venom. You held your hand out.

Tim sighs deeply and reaches into his pocket, pinching the bridge of his nose as you harshly snatch the key from his awaiting hand. “It’s not like that, you know I love you-”

“Is that what you’re calling it? Cheating on me and then lying about it for months?” You rhetorically ask, growling and seething further and further. You feel rage wracking your system as it exhausts you further and further. You can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, because if you do, you’ll melt.

“I’m telling you, it was to protect you,” he attempts again. “Let’s just, let’s just go home and-”

“Get the fuck out of my car,” you say, drawing in every remaining and residual strength you have as hot tears scald your cheeks.

“You don’t mean that-”

“I do.”

“Reader, baby please-”

“Get the fuck out of my car,” you repeat. You squeeze your eyes shut, shake your head and then turn back to the road. “Do it before I do something stupid.”

Tim feels his heart shatter, cracking on impact as it falls deeper and deeper. He shakily runs his fingers through his hair before sliding out of your car, slamming the door shut and watches as you drive off and out of his life. He wants to scream, or cry, maybe both at the same time? He’s not entirely sure yet. He just knows his world is crashing down and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He betrayed your trust and broke your heart all for one singular night of passion.

The emotionally distraught man looks up at the moon, finding no solace that it’s full again.

[writtenonreceipts]

a prompt?

single parent trope for feysand, pretty please?

more prompts for this would be great, otherwise you get my rambling mind and we all know how that goes...

Find my main masterlist here

#

An Intimate Display of Insecurities and Hopelessness

The air-conditioning was out.  Again.  And Feyre had already stripped down to a tank-top and shorts.  The heat was miserable.  

“Sweet mercy,” she muttered as she stood in front of the large fan she’d bought yesterday to try and keep things cool.  It wasn’t working.

Feyre brushed her hair from her sweaty brow and bit back a curse.  This day was not going at all the way she’d wanted it to.  It had taken her far to long to get anything started, not to mention coordinating with Elain on how she wanted to participate in the shop.

It was only three days to her deadline to get her shop up and running.  Three days to get pallets made, canvases designed, and interior design finished.  All in one-hundred-degree weather and boob sweat.

She turned back to the mess of her shop.  This was going to take more work than she had time for.  Or sanity.

The front door opened behind her with a clatter.  Feyre wasn’t that concerned about it, knowing she was getting some things delivered.

“Just leave the deliveries on the floor,” she said, not looking back.  She was trying to have a vision of what she was going to accomplish, a vision that would be epic and glorious.

“Excuse me?” 

Feyre spun at the smooth voice and nearly stumbled.  The most attractive man she’d ever seen was standing in her shop.  His black pants were crisp and cleanly lined and his black shirt was rolled up to the elbows, displaying his tanned skin.  He was tall, lean, and with his black hair swept neatly back.

Feyre felt sweat roll between her breasts.  Oh hell.

“Feyre Archeron?” He asked and took a step forward while holding out his hand. “Rhysand Avitas.  I’m the new building manager.”

A dozen curses ran through her head as she did her best to wipe her sweaty hand on her shorts inconspicuously.  Because of course she knew who Rhysand Avitas was.  Everyone in their small town did.  He was the son of the police chief and now the youngest elected mayor in Valeris history.

He had also been just a year ahead of Feyre in school.  So she knew the kind of person her was.  At least, she thought she did.

“Rhysand, of course,” she said as she took his hand. The heat didn’t seem to effecting him.  Jackass. “Sorry, I guess I lost track of time.”

Indeed, it was half-past two right when she’d told his assistant that he could come by the shop.  And see that everything was in order for her opening deadline.  Except she hadn’t really expected him to show up.  

“Not a problem.” He smiled in such a charming way that Feyre found herself wanting to hate him.

But Feyre already did hate him.  He had bought the building just two days after her father’s death.  Just two days after the building was up for sale.  She hadn’t even had the time to get funds together to convince the bank that she could buy the lease herself.  Now, she was going to have to open her shop under him.

In school he had been captain of the football team, president of the ASB club.  He had been the kind of person Feyre had never wanted to interact with.  High and mighty, proud and cruel.  He’d worn a mask of indifference to anyone beneath him, she was convinced.

Feyre cleared her throat. “Things are a little messy right now, but it’ll be ready for opening day on Monday.”

Rhysand nodded as he walked around the shop.  Bits of wood crunched under his too fancy shoes and dust clung to his pants when he brushed up against one of the pallets that Feyre was still trying to decide how to convert into a display case.

“You’re a painter, correct?” he asked.  He looked over his shoulder at her and Feyre was taken aback by his eyes.  Bright blue—so bright that she could have sworn they were violet.  And damn her if she didn’t want to at least try and draw them.

“Yes,” she replied. “My sister does some gardening and does floral arrangements and I’m planning on having her sell some of her work here as well.”

“I remember,” he said, “Mrs. Ellis always made sure all of her classes knew about her protegee.”

Feyre rolled her eyes.  The high school art teacher had been someone no one really liked.  Aside from her.  Maybe it was just because Feyre had wanted someone to pay attention to her, but the woman had always been nice to Feyre.

“My work wasn’t that good back then,” she said.  And it was true, it had taken years of study and experimentation to get to where she was now.  Ten years after those miserable high school years and here she was, finally maybe a little bit confident with what she could do.

Rhysand said nothing, only observed.  “And you’re sure you’ll be ready by Monday?  No offense Miss Archeron, but it seems like a lot needs to be taken care of.  You assured the bank, and my assistant, that your shop was worth allowing in the complex.”

Feyre’s mouth pursed as she watched his man before her.  With his impeccable clothing, that silver watch on his wrist, it was hard to imagine that he’d had any hardships in his life.

“Yes, and I keep my word,” she said, her voice cold enough to rival any a/c.  “What I would like to know is why the air conditioning still isn’t fixed.  It’s been this way for a week now.”

“It’s being looked into,” Rhysand said. 

His gaze turned sharp as he looked her over again.  Something passed over his face that Feyre didn’t care to try and understand.  She just wanted this man out of her shop so she could get back to work.

“Was there something in specific that you wanted to discuss?” she asked, “or were just interested in questioning my ability to run a shop?”

He smirked at her and shook his head. “You always did have that fire in you, didn’t you?”

Feyre was ready to tell him to get out when a soft cry caught her attention.  She held up a finger to silence him as she listened.  Maybe she’d imagined it.  Hell, she hoped he’d imagined it.  Unfortunately the cry came again.

“Just a minute,” she said.

She hurried to the back of the shop where a door led into what would be used for the breakroom.  It was a few degrees cooler back there, which was why she’d set it up for it’s current use.

Sitting up in the pack-and-play was her daughter.  Seren with her golden hair and large blue eyes looked up at her and cried again.

“Momma!” 

Immediately, Feyre scooped her daughter up.  Seren latched on with a snake-like grip.  Her arms wound around Feyre’s neck tightly.

“Hi baby,” Feyre murmured.  “Why are you awake?”

It had only been a half hour since Feyre’d put her down, she’d been hoping for at least one hour of uninterrupted work.

Seren said nothing and only whimpered into Feyre’s neck.  As Feyre whispered to her daughter to sooth her, she went back out into the main part of the store to find the diaper bag she’d packed that morning.  In one of the insulated pockets, she found a bottle of apple juice.

“Here, honey,” Feyre said.  Seren snatched the bottle and began drinking, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “Okay, there we go.  Momma need to talk to Mr. Avitas okay, can you let me do that?”

Seren nodded and the almost two-year-old tucked herself right against Feyre’s neck.

Pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, Feyre turned back to Rhysand who stood right where she’d left him.  The hard look in his eyes was gone and whatever hard-ass talk he was no doubt going to deliver evaporated.

“It seems I was wrong,” Rhysand said, “you do have some help, don’t you?”

Seren wiggled in Feyre’s arms to get a better look at the man, her bottle sticking in one cheek.

“Momma,” Seren said, her voice just slightly muffled.

“Yes, you are my big helper,” Feyre agreed, “even when you get into my paints.”

Seren beamed up at her. “I help.”

Feyre snorted a bit of laughter.  Help.  Sure.  There were some painted handprints on the wall that aid otherwise.

“Did you have any other concerns you needed to address, Mr. Avitas?” Feyre asked.

He seemed so taken aback that Feyre had had her daughter in the back room napping that it took him a moment to speak again.  It would have been amusing if the man hadn’t been so annoying to begin with.

“She looks just like you,” Rhysand said.

That was the last thing Feyre’d expected.  She quirked a brow at the man.  She knew it was true.  Seren, thank the heavens, looked like an Archeron.  There was barely a trace of her father.  Something Feyre would give thanks for every day.

Feyre heart gave a painful squeeze.  Of course that was what he meant.

She met his gaze, holding it for a long moment.  Her hold on Seren tightened automatically, something she always did when she remembered her baby’s father. 

“Yes, she does,” she whispered.  Feyre wondered what Rhysand could possibly know.  When she’d moved back to Valeris two years ago, just after she’d found out she was pregnant, she scrubbed her life clean of that man.  Rhysand couldn’t possibly know who the father was.  Even if he did, he shouldn’t care.

“Right,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. Once again, an un definable look flashed over his features, and disappeared just as quickly.  “I’ll see what I can do about the air-conditioning.”

“Good,” Feyre said, “I’d hate to have to delay opening.”

And much to her surprise, Rhysand laughed.  “Of course not.  That would be rather inconvenient, wouldn’t it?”

He turned back to the door and looked as though he would leave without saying anything else, until he paused. He seemed to be having an internal dilemma when he looked back to Feyre.

“If there is anything I can help with, let me know.”

The words were halting and careful.  Feyre wasn’t sure how to read them, how to respond.  So she only nodded.

#

i wanted to add more to this for the first part, but well here we are...

tags

@aelinchocolatelover // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @bamchickawowow // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @courtofjurdan // @sassys-world // @sleeping-and-books // @superspiritfestival // @chieflemming // @julemmaes // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @firestarsandseneschals // @emikadreams // @rapunzel1523 // @booksofthemoon // @highladysith // @fangirlprincess09 // @rowaelinismyotp // @vanzetanze // @jlinez // @cassianscool // @stardelia // @my-fan-side // @sjmships // @tillyrubes10 // @acourtofsjmtrash // @hellasblessed // @rhysandswhore  //  @story-scribbler  // @post-it-notes33 // @live-the-fangirl-life // @strangevil321 // @whythefuckdoiexist // @pastasiren // @beanco8 // @lemonade-coolattas @foreverfallingforthestars // @surielandiareendgame // @feysand-loml

[elvensorceress]

sunrise

(the 5x03 episode coda we all deserve) 

Inspired by @eric-dierr ‘s post

on AO3

There’s finality to the sound of the door shutting behind her, but the weight of more years than he’s ever known her disappears as soon as she does. 

He can breathe again. He can relax. He doesn’t have to play a part. He doesn’t have to fake picture perfect, too-exaggerated-to-be-real happiness. He can finally take his home back. 

The irony of his disaster kitchen is not lost on him. But he starts with a message, because it needs to be said, and he hates the idea of hurting anyone. Least of all hurting someone the way Buck was hurt. 

Done. It’s over.

Is what he sends. And then goes to strip the beds and cycle the laundry and wash his whole fucking house of anything touched by her. It’s only a few minutes before he receives a response. 

it go ok? r u ok? 

He could be better. He could have a clean house and a clean mind and he could simply enjoy curling up with his son and finally spending time with him. Fixing everything has to come first. 

It was fine. Probably. Who knows. You make it home?

Once the sheets are washing, he turns to the kitchen and who does this to someone else’s kitchen and just leaves it? He digs out gallon sized ziplock bags and fills them with the assortment of muffins and other baked goods. He’ll have to make a note to himself to take them to the station on his next shift. At least he won’t have to pretend to like bland, flavorless cooking anymore. 

He checks his phone and it’s been a good ten minutes without a response, so maybe Buck decided to nap or cook or… Oh, god maybe his girlfriend is there. 

At least there’s not much of anything in Eddie’s stomach right now because it twists and he’s nauseous and of all the people Buck had to pick her and it’s just… none of his business but Buck could do so much better. He deserves so much better. Though the idea of Buck with anyone is not something he wants to think about. Not that he wants Buck to be alone forever. He’s been so lonely and Eddie knows he desperately wants to be loved. But no one is ever going to be good enough for him, no one can know him well enough or love him the way he needs, he should be adored and cherished and treated like the most precious thing in existence because he is.

And that’s the most Eddie wants to think about on the subject. 

He starts by unloading the dishwasher and then has to restart by organizing his cupboards back the way the dishes and cups and silverware are supposed to be organized. Halfway through the third cupboard, his phone chimes. 

idk. technically. what r u up to?

He reads it and rereads their whole conversation, and sighs heavily. Buck could take his own advice. But then they’d both be alone again. One of them should at least have something? He starts typing and hesitates and knows his typing must have appeared and notified Buck that he’s working on a response. But. Should he? 

Fuck it. Why not. 

Cleaning up my disaster. Want to come over? 

The response is immediate. 

Yes

It’s another moment where he can finally breathe again. In that case, he unloads the clean dishes into a mostly empty cupboard and tries to tackle the dirty dishes in the sink before Buck shows up and sees the mess made of his kitchen. 

disaster?

Is the next message that pops up on his phone and Eddie contemplates sending a picture, but some things are better left a surprise. 

You’ll see.

It takes him less than fifteen minutes to walk through the door and the kitchen is only partly under control. He hears Christopher excitedly exclaim, “Buck! Buck is home! You’re here!” 

And Buck’s near giddy reply of, “Christopher! You’re also home!” He laughs and Eddie has to see them. 

He grabs a kitchen towel to dry his hands and finds Christopher clutched tightly in Buck’s arms, melting onto his shoulder much like he did at the station a few days ago. They both have their eyes closed tightly, swaying as if there’s joyful music only they can hear. Eddie wonders what it might take for him to hear it as well. 

He swallows hard and can’t look at anything else. 

Christopher lifts up and presses both of his small hands into Buck’s cheeks. “I missed you, kid.” 

Buck laughs again but his eyes look glassy even though there’s something about him that is radiant sunshine after years of being lost in a cold night. “I missed you, too, buddy.” He sets Christopher down but bends to leave a kiss on his forehead. When he looks at Eddie with that glowing sunrise of a smile, Eddie can almost believe in hope and happiness and the future. 

It makes him want to believe real love is still possible. That there is something, someone, in existence who might make his heart want and need and bleed love in every incarnation. 

Buck lets Christopher go back to playing and follows Eddie into the kitchen. Where his expression immediately turns into something horrified. “What in the,” he glances in the direction of the other room, shuts the door and mouths quietly, “Fuck happened here?”

“I told you. Disaster.” Eddie tosses his kitchen towel onto his shoulder and returns to the kitchen sink with soaking cupcake pans. 

“But,” Buck says, supremely distressed. “My kitchen.”

“I’ve been working on it,” Eddie promises. He needs to scrub down and wash away everything. 

 “She wasn’t even here that long. What the hell did she do? Who does this and just leaves someone else’s house like this?”

Eddie shrugs but gives him a smile. He can finally smile. A real smile in his own home. It’s almost strange now, but it’s possible. Then again, it’s always real when Buck is around. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

Buck shakes his head and goes to the cupboards to finish organizing them properly. He knows better where everything is supposed to belong anyway. 

With Buck’s help, it doesn’t take long to reorganize and wipe down the entire kitchen. They put new sheets and blankets on the beds and Eddie does a quick cleaning of the bathrooms while Buck vacuums and tidies the living room. They bring the dried laundry to Christopher’s room to fold and put it away and start a load of all Eddie’s work clothes, and only then does Buck turn to him and put his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. 

Eddie tries not to go weak at the touch. It feels like an eternity since they’ve hugged, since they’ve been home, since they’ve been close. 

“Thank you,” Buck says softly.

Eddie looks at him, unsure, uncertain, and longing for something they can never have. “For what?”

Buck bites his lip and tears well in his eyes. “For not being Abby. For being you.”

Eddie takes a deep breath and very lightly rests a hand on Buck’s chest. Over his heart. “Thanks for being you.” 

Buck bends his head and Eddie holds onto him, pulls him closer so Buck’s forehead rests against his own. 

It’s so easy to believe now. He can almost feel it with how they’ve grown together, built this together. There’s something so close it feels inevitable, but he knows it’s something they chose for themselves. 

When they let go, they join Christopher on the sofa and cuddle together closer than they ever have. So close Christopher wriggles out from their tight grasp because they are interrupting game time, okay? Buck looks at him for a moment but curls against Eddie’s side anyway and drifts off as they’re stretched on the couch together. 

His house his clean. His life has a new page, a fresh start, it can be anything. But he knows, no matter what, they’ll have each other and their son. It’s all his heart has ever wanted, and this time, it feels as if they will have it. 

@oneweirdcryptid @ashavahishta @captain-flint @phantomqueenmorrigan @loveyourownsmiilee @oldsouldreamer85 @arrenemris @fleurdebeton @rosefairyirl @holydrogo-n @free-byrd @insaneoldme @oatflatwhite @favouritealias @idealuk @racoonsa @ethicalconflictdiaz

(If anyone would like to be added to my tag list, let me know or go like this post 💕)

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 12: Adrenaline

"You are such a bloody, fucking arsehole!" Harry shouted, as he burst into his partner's room at St. Mungo's. "I can't believe you."

"Could you lower your voice, please?" Draco asked, he was gingerly rubbing his temples.

"No, I cannot bloody well lower my voice!" Harry seethed as he looked at the other man. Draco was pale and quite obviously in pain, his slender frame resting stiffly against the mattress. "I am unbelievably pissed with you."

"Yes, well, I have a concussion and my head is pounding-"

Harry growled, "Well whose fault is that?"

"Potter, I am begging you to save the theatrics until my potion has kicked in and I'm not seeing sounds," the other man groaned. "Literally begging."

"Well you should have thought of that before you jumped in front of those arseholes who were shooting a stunner and bombarda at me."

Draco groaned and let his head fall back against the pillow, "This has got to be karma. Having your ungrateful arse as my auror partner is karma for all of my past sins. Merlin have mercy."

Harry opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by one of the nurses, Matilda if Harry remembered correctly. "Auror Potter, I'm going to need to ask you to step out of the room."

"Thank fucking Merlin," Malfoy sighed.

Matilda raised an eyebrow, "I'm going to need Auror Malfoy to strip down so we can put his dislocated, and partially shattered, hips back together. It's also going to be fairly painful."

"Good," Harry growled, "Remember this next time you try to put yourself in harm's way for me."

He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. After a heartbeat, Harry shoved his glasses up into his hair so he could scrub his hands over his face.

(Read more below the cut)

As the adrenaline faded from his system, Harry's body started to feel a bit weak, legs quaking slightly, his heart hammering against his ribs, breath coming a touch too fast. He staggered away from the door and over to the row of chairs along the wall for people to wait.

Draco cried out in pain on the other side of the door and his fists clenched. He wished he hadn't said that; the other man being in pain wasn't good and he wished he could take it away.

Harry wasn't sure how long he sat there with his head in his hands, hearing the occasional outcry from Draco's room, before Ron showed up and clapped him on the shoulder.

"How is he?" Ron asked as he collapsed next to him.

"Ouch, fuck!" they heard shouted from the room across the hall. "That fucking-" a pause as the other man groaned, "hurts."

"Not great," Harry replied.

Ron nodded, "But conscious."

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair, "You've finished processing those wankers?"

"Yes," he affirmed. "It was lucky, actually, that Malfoy blocked the spells," he said. "The cases behind you would have exploded with even the slightest hint of magic touching them."

"Great," he said with a sigh, feeling even more guilty.

"He's going to be okay," Ron said softly and to his horror Harry felt tears prickling at the back of his eyes.

"How do you even know that?" Harry asked, "No one told you he was going to be okay."

Ron snorted, "If he wasn't you would have burned everything to the ground by now."

His best friend probably wasn't wrong about that. He couldn't even bear the thought of losing Draco without feeling like he couldn't breathe. "He shouldn't have done that," Harry said finally.

Ron shook his head, "Done what? His job?"

"He shouldn't have put himself in the line of fire," Harry replied. "Not for me."

"Right," Ron said, "Just like you shouldn't put yourself in the line of fire for him, but just last week-"

"It's different," Harry said vehemently.

"It wasn't different for him," Ron said quietly. "I sat here having an identical conversation last week, only it was you in the bed." He shook his head, "Look, mate, you know I'm not ever one to advocate for talking things out, but..." he trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid.

The trouble was that Harry didn't know how to respond, didn't know what to say to Ron or Draco. Before he could come up with anything, Matilda came out of Draco's room. She nodded at Harry, "You can go in now," she offered.

"Is he going to be here overnight?" Ron called.

"He's regrowing bones, Auror Weasley. Yes, he'll be here overnight."

Ron winced, "I'm going to go pick up Indian and bring it back. The food here is terrible."

"Thanks," Harry replied.

"Go on," Ron said, nudging Harry toward the room. "Go get things sorted."

Harry sighed, but squared his shoulders and stood up, moving toward the door and summoning every ounce of his Griffyndor bravery.

When he got to the door he knocked before entering. The moment Draco caught sight of him he groaned, "Potter, please. I can't take the lectures right now. Regrowing bones is a bitch."

Harry drew up a chair beside his bed and didn't say anything for a moment. Then he took a slow deep breath and said, "You terrify me."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and then winced in pain.

Harry continued before he could say anything, "And I know I sound like a complete hypocrite-"

"Too right, you do," Malfoy grunted.

"But it scares the shit out of me," Harry pressed on. "Draco I can't-" he broke off, shaking his head and the other man turned his head to look at him more fully. "I can't lose you."

"And you think that I can lose you?" he countered.

"I don't know," Harry said, "I don't know." He rubbed his hands over his face. "I don't think I can do this anymore."

He glanced up in time to see the hurt flash across Draco's face before he reigned it in. "Fine. That's fine. Put in the transfer request and I'll sign it."

"No, I mean all of it," Harry said, clearing his throat. "I can't do the cases, I can't be the reason that people get hurt." He shook his head, "I'm tired, Draco. I'm so tired.” He swallowed, "and I want my life to be more than this."

Draco looked away, staring unseeingly at the set of drawers across from his bed. "Well, I wish you the best then," the other man replied, voice cold as stone.

Harry swallowed and summoned up a bit more courage, "Leave with me," he said.

"What?"

"Leave with me. Let's start our own business, we can become private investigators and get out from under all of the bureaucratic bullshit. Or let's do anything else. Literally anything. You want to have a coffee shop? Done. Quidditch supply store? I'm there. Want to remodel homes? Count me in. I will do anything that you want to," Harry closed his eyes, imaging it, then he said, "because if we're not Auror partners anymore, I can finally tell you the truth."

"What truth?" the other man asked hesitantly.

He took a deep breath and blew it out before sitting up straighter in his chair. "I'm in love with you," Harry said simply.

Draco blinked once, then a second time as he stared uncomprehendingly at Harry. "Potter, what?" Draco spluttered. "I'm the one with the concussion here, not you. Did you hit your head? Are you feeling confused?"

Harry laughed, "No, I'm not. Honestly, everything feels simpler than it has in ages. I don't expect you to feel the same or anything, we can stay friends-"

"Are you joking?" Draco asked and Harry winced and looked down at where his hands were clenched, clasping one another. The other man continued, "You don't expect me to feel the same? How could you possibly think I don't feel the same?"

Harry's head snapped up, "What?"

"Potter, I've been in love with you since the Alvarez case."

"Really?" he asked incredulously. That case had happened years ago at this point. It was one of their first cases together.

Draco nodded, "It's stupid, but watching you with that little boy-"

"Julian," Harry said, nodding at the memory.

"You were so sweet with him and so protective. And I realized that it wasn't an act, it's just who you are and I was doomed." He shook his head, "Of course I'm in love with you, you idiot."

He stared at him for a moment, looked into those clear silver eyes that he loved so much, "Can I kiss you?"

"Very gently," Draco replied, "Because as much as I would like to kiss you, my head is still killing me and I'm not supposed to move my neck very much."

Harry huffed a soft laugh before moving closer. He cupped his cheek and gently trailed his thumb over Draco's bruised cheekbone, trying to avoid causing any more pain. His eyes flicked up to Draco's before he closed them and leaned in touch their lips together. Two soft pecks were all he allowed himself before pulling back and brushing a feather-light kiss over his temple.

"Ah!" Ron blurted from the doorway, making both Harry and Draco jump, "Sorry, I'll come back-"

"Ron, it's fine," Harry said, pressing one more soft kiss to Draco's forehead before collapsing back into the chair beside the bed.

"No, I want to have plausible deniability at the Ministry when-"

"I'm quitting," Harry said.

"We're quitting," Draco added.

Harry grinned at him, "Really?"

"Yes," he said, smiling back.

"And you should quit too," Harry said, turning to Ron, "Come join our private detective firm."

"But first, bring us that Indian food," Draco said.

Ron rolled his eyes, "Years of this," he said gesturing between the two of them. "Years of watching you two idiots pining after one another and that's it. You just decide to quit?"

"Yes, well," Harry replied, clearing his throat, "I think I'm going to need to have more free time than the ministry allows."

"Oh, is that so?" Draco replied with a smirk, his voice smooth like honey.

"Alright," Ron said, "That is enough of that. If you want me to come work with you, we're going to need to nip that in the bud right now."

Harry laughed and held up his hands in surrender.

"I am happy for you two, though," Ron said.

"Me, too." Harry replied. Suddenly looking forward to the future more than he had in a long time.

Day 11: Pinky Promise | Day 13: Drunk

[honey-dewey]

Worthless Comforts

Pairing: Din Djarin/Reader

Word Count: 2,146

Warnings: None

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Reader shows Din the small comforts that make life worthwhile. Like sleeping in a real bed and eating three meals a day. 

Life aboard the Razor Crest was always interesting. Not necessarily bad, but not good either. Interesting. Din had hired you originally as a translator, but that role turned into mechanic and then babysitter as time moved forward. You two were close, close enough for him to share his name with you. He knew your tells and triggers, and you knew most of his. So it was no surprise when you noticed he was stressed before he did.

“You need to relax,” you said offhandedly one day while you two were traveling to Tatooine to hunt a quarry. “How do mandalorians relax?”

“We die.”

You rolled your eyes, flipping another page in your book. “Okay Mr. This is the Way. When did you last eat something?”

Din shrugged. “It was that Bantha meat you gave me.”

“That was yesterday,” you said, sitting up straighter and staring at Din’s helmet. “When are we landing?”

“A few hours.”

You sat back, still eyeing Din’s tightly wound figure. “Okay.”

Tatooine was not your favorite planet. Boba and Fennec made it better, and Cobb was always fun. Peli gave you shit but made you smile, and you did like traveling with the Tuskens. But no amount of decent company changed the dusty atmosphere and the blinding suns. The way the sand dug into your feet and got into every crevasse. By the time you’d reached the old Hutt Palace, you were cursing the sand and the suns and everything in between.

“Finally!” Fennec said, guiding you into the palace. “We expected you last week!”

“Picked up another quarry on the way,” Din explained, nodding to the guards who stood by the doors. “Had the time.”

Fennec rolled her eyes. “Don’t you ever relax?”

“That’s what I said!” You said, nudging Din. He sighed and shrugged you off.

Boba was happy to see you both in one piece, and he was especially eager to see Grogu asleep in the carrier across your front. “Your rooms are open, as always,” he said with a grin when you suppressed a yawn. “Go unwind. The quarry hasn’t moved in three months. You can wait another few days. I know traveling the way you do can be stressful.”

Before Din could open his mouth and ruin it, you spoke. “Thank you so much Boba. We appreciate it.”

As night fell, you ate, drank, and talked. It was fun, and Fennec made for excellent company. When you finally retired, you found Grogu asleep in Din’s room. He must’ve taken the child when you weren’t looking.

“Sneaky bastard,” you said affectionately, shutting yourself in your own room and falling asleep as soon as your head hit the pillows.

You woke to loud thunder and the sound of rainfall. Confused, you rubbed your eyes and got dressed, forgoing your armor and weapons. You barely even put shoes on, sliding into leather flats instead of your supple boots.

Boba was already on the throne when you arrived in the throne room, Fennec on his right. He looked up as you walked in, an easy, relaxed grin on his face. “It seems you and Djarin have found yourselves trapped here,” he said. “Tatooine rarely has rainstorms, but when it does, they are dangerous. You will stay here until the rain passed.”

You noticed the final sentence was a command, and you nodded. “Thank you,” you said. “Din would’ve made me walk in the rain had you not kept us here, I’m sure of it.”

Fennec laughed. “Find him,” she said. “We have water for baths now. He smells like a bantha.”

You laughed. “Thank you again,” you said. “I’ll go find Din and tell him.”

Din’s room was locked, as it usually was at night, but once you knocked, he opened the door within a few minutes. “What?”

“Boba told us to stay until the rain passes,” you said. “King’s orders. Fennec also said there’s water for baths now, and she recommends you take one.”

Din nodded, stretching a tiny bit. You smiled. “Maybe we can take this chance and actually relax,” you said.

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

You rolled your eyes as you and Din walked to the baths. Tatooine was big on communal bath spaces, so bathing was always interesting. But you’d figured it out.

As you walked, you examined Din. He’d done the same as you, forgoing his usual armor in favor of his long sleeved brown undershirt, brown pants with the black patches, and boots. He was still wearing the helmet, but not the head covering that hid his neck. The high collar of his undershirt did conceal most of his skin though. He looked comfortable, especially with Grogu tucked up under his arm.

The bath room was empty when you arrived, and you immediately began to fill two of the dry pools. Each one was small, meant for one person, but all the sunken pools were open to each other. No privacy.

While you filled the tubs, Din found a wooden divider, dragging it over and separating your pools. When you were done, you collected soaps and towels before hopping behind the divider and stripping out of your clothes. You could hear Din doing the same, folding his clothes as he took them off. Finally, you heard the sound of the helmet being removed and set down, and then the ripple of water as Din got into his pool.

You and him soaked, side by side, separated by the divider, for a while. The water was warm, and the smell of rain that filtered through the palace made your eyes heavy. “Din?”

“Hm?”

You sighed, leaning back so you could stretch your legs out. “How long do you think this rain will last?”

“Rain storms on Tatooine are aggressive,” Din said from behind the barrier. “But it should only last a few days.”

A crack of thunder sent a small shock through your body, but you calmed quickly, relaxing into the warmth of the water again. “Okay. I can do a few days.”

An hour later, once the water had gone cold and you’d scrubbed all the grit from your body, you got out and toweled off. Din, judging from the sounds, was doing the same. When you two reunited, you both smelled better, and Din seemed a bit more relaxed. Well, relaxed for him. He was still guarded, but it seemed he was finally starting to realize he was safe.

The palace was mostly empty. The rain seemed to deter most potential guests, so the only people around were Fennec, Boba, Din, and you. You and Din swung by the kitchen to grab some food, you carrying the food while Din held Grogu. It wasn’t an easy task, considering just how much Grogu squirmed. By the time you’d carried the food to Din’s room, Grogu had bitten Din twice in a desperate attempt to reach you.

“Alright you little Womp Rat,” you said, setting Grogu in his cradle with his food. “Stop messing with us!”

Grogu pouted, but let you walk away without crying too much. You sat beside Din, looking over your kitchen raid spoils. “Damn,” you said. “We did good.”

Din snorted, and you scrunched your nose at him. “What do you want?”

“This,” Din said, reaching over you to grab a metal container that was warm to the touch. “Please.”

“Go for it,” you said, taking something you didn’t recognize, but it smelled heavenly. “You have permission to eat as much as you want, and please do, because I know you don’t eat enough on the Crest. Turn around though, I want to be able to eat with you.”

Din turned, and you sat with your back pressing to his. He seemingly got the message and removed his helmet, slowly eating whatever he’d taken.

“Y’know,” you said, stabbing another glazed slice of fruit from your dish. “We actually get three nutritious meals a day while we’re here. No ration blocks twice a day.”

Din hummed, and you could feel him chewing when he put his head back and pressed it to yours. “Those ration blocks really are shit,” he decided softly. “But I can’t cook.”

“I can,” you said. “If we store ingredients on the Crest, we should absolutely be able to have meals like this. And I don’t mind cooking,” you added, knowing Din was likely to protest. “How’d you sleep last night?”

“Decent,” Din said. “Feels good to sleep on a mattress.”

You laughed, reaching to grab a container of cake. “Told you!” You said. “You sleep on that damned rubber pad, I can’t believe it.”

“You sleep on the same kind of rubber pad,” Din pointed out. “Yours is just bigger.”

“Yeah,” you said slowly. “The mattress is really nice here. Why don’t we visit more often?”

Din was quiet for a second while he ate another bite of food. “I don’t like Tatooine,” he finally said.

“Preach,” you said, pulling Grogu’s cradle closer and feeding him some of your cake. “Want dessert?”

You and Din shared food back and forth until you were both full, Din finally relenting and admitting he wanted a nap. At which you closed your eyes so he could get up and get into his bed.

You didn’t open your eyes until you heard the curtains around the bed shut, a feature Boba had put onto the bed specifically for Din. When you opened your eyes, you saw the helmet sitting atop Din’s folded shirt. Oh right, he slept shirtless.

Standing and stretching, you quietly kept Grogu occupied until he fell asleep too, and then you decided to find Fennec and maybe practice sparring.

You scooped Grogu up and set him down on the bed, leaving him to crawl his way to Din’s warm side. As the curtains shifted, you got a tiny peek at Din’s sleeping form.

He slept on his side with his arms up, covering his face. His hands were tangled in his hair, and you stared, entranced by the scar pebbled expanse of Din’s chest. It was the most skin you’d ever seen on him, and you almost wanted to touch it.

“Are you getting in too?” Din asked sleepily, and you yelped, jumping away from the bed like it might hurt you. You heard shuffling from inside, and then the curtain rustled. Before Din could push it open, you slapped your hand over your eyes, determined not to look.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to go spar with Fennec,” you said, trying to sound firm despite the wobble to your voice. “Goodnight.”

Din chuckled softly, and you heard more rustling before strong and very warm arms wrapped around you. “Please come nap with us,” he said, leaning on you. His hand found your wrist and tried to gently tug your hand off your eyes, but you stubbornly refused.

You whimpered, resolve softening at Din’s half asleep voice and almost unfairly warm body. “Din,” you said. “Your face”.

“My Creed has long since been reforged. You can see my face. Fennec and Bona both have.”

When Din pulled against your hand again, he met no resistance. Your eyes met his first, and you swear your breath stopped altogether. “Din.”

“Yes?” Din said, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. “Can we nap please? I’m tired.”

“Of course you’re tired,” you said, your wits finally returning to you. “You haven’t taken a break in a decade.”

Din led you back to the bed, and you discarded your shoes before crawling under the blankets beside him. Grogu cooed when you joined the cuddle pile, and you snuggled up to him and Din, deciding to close your eyes only for a second.

When you opened them again, it was to a loud crack of thunder. The suns had set already, and in the dark, you could barely make out the outline of Din’s face. His curls were unruly, the mess visible even in the darkness. You sighed, resigning yourself to sleeping beside Din, especially because his arm was tossed over your waist. You were a bit surprised to find that Din was big on cuddles.

It wasn’t long before you were drifting off again, absently watching the rise and fall of Din’s chest while he slept. You wondered faintly if this was the longest he’d slept since he’d last been here. He often napped in three hour increments, just for convenience.

“You awake?”

“Well I am now,” you grumbled, watching Din’s eyelashes flutter as he blinked, his silhouette shifting when he rolled to his side. “Why’re you up?”

Din yawned. “Felt you move,” he said softly. “Woke me up.”

“Ah. Sorry,” you said, settling back down and feeling your eyes droop closed. “I’m exhausted.”

“Same,” Din said, pulling you close. “Thank you.”

You smiled against Din’s chest, curving so you were practically molded to his body. “Any time Din. Any time.”

[werenotadulting]

Routine Procedure pt. 2 & 3

(Hello friends. Before we continue, a disclaimer. This story is intended for mature, 18+, kink-friendly audiences. This post contains sexual content.

This story may seem, uh, pretty fucked up. The product that caused Mike's incontinence is purely fictional, but the story can still seem plausible within the realm of reality. Which makes the actions of the characters....well, pretty fucked up. I don't want to spoil the story, but I will leave with this.

Aren't we all, in our own way, a little fucked up?

I'd woken up as we turned onto our street.

"Hey sweetie. We're almost home."

"Huh, wh-...where are we?" I blinked a couple times, my eyes adjusting to the light.

She took my hand in hers. "You're in the car, on the way home from the hospital. There's something I need to-"

Suddenly I was wide awake.

"Oh man, I had the weirdest dream. I was in recovery and all the sudden the doctor is going on about how something went wrong, which is crazy, right? Like it was the easiest of surgeries, so it's not like something could ever go wrong."

Kate just stared straight ahead as she pulled into our driveway.

"Let's talk inside."

────────

"You have to remember to check it every couple of hours, Mike. I can do it for you if want me to."

I glared at her.

"Jesus Kate, don't you think I know that? It's bad enough I have to wear this stupid thing, but you don't have to keep reminding me like I'm some kind of child!"

Was I overreacting? Maybe. Did I have every right to be upset about what I'd woken up to in the hospital? Absolutely. Did Kate deserve me taking my anger out on her?

No. She didn't.

I took a deep breath, counting to ten in my head.

"Okay, listen. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, I just...I feel like my life just got turned upside down. You're only trying to help and....I'm sorry," I finished lamely.

Kate, noticing my shirt had become tucked into the back of my pull-up, pulled it out.

"I understand, Mike," Kate said, looking at me with sympathy. "You didn't ask for this, plus that whole thing with the clause in the paperwork. There's not much we can do but move on and learn to cope." She stood up, smiling at me. "But on the brightside, no medical bills, plus they're offering to cover the cost of whatever supplies you need. I'm going to be here every step of the way, helping you out however you need it."

Despite her positive outlook, I wasn't swayed. "Oh, sure, great." I laid the sarcasm on thick. "I get to spend the rest of my life peeing myself. The brightside is oh so blinding."

"It was a really long day, babe," Kate said, hushing my attitude and moving behind me as she started to rub my shoulders. "What do you say you take a couple of those sleeping pills, zonk out for the night, and see what kind of fresh perspective tomorrow brings, huh?"

Sleep did sound like the only brief respite I was going to get from this hell.

"If you'd like, I can check you during the night to see if it need changed. That way you can just sleep and not have to worry."

"Umm no, it's fine. I just put it on, so it should last me overnight. You'd probably only wake me up anyway. Thank you though," I said, giving her a small smile. "I'm glad at least one of us is handling this well."

────────

It wasn't until around midnight that Mike finally got comfortable enough to sleep. As Kate looked in on him, she could see that he was still a little restless, tossing and turning as if having a bad dream.

For a brief second she had second thoughts, but quickly shoved them aside. No, she wanted this. Mike needed this. She had waited so long. It was for the best. She looked down on him lovingly.

"Sleep well, my sweet boy. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be just as interesting as today was."

Even when he took sleeping pills, Mike was notoriously a restless sleeper. And she may or may not have poked a couple holes in the pull-up. Mike didn't bother to check, and why should he?

After all, accidents happen.

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

Part 3

Cold.

The first thing that hit me was how cold I was.

That didn't make any sense. I'm in bed, I shouldn't be cold. I grabbed the covers to push them back and immediately realized why I was cold.

The bed, the sheets, the comforter, all of them, were wet.

"Shit."

I saw then why the bed had gotten wet. No. Soaked.

Tossing and turning in my sleep, the pull-up, I presume, had not stayed in place. Meaning the bed had gotten soaked. Meaning I had gotten soaked. Hence...

"Shit."

Kate walked out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel with a second around her body.

"Hey babe. I had to get up to get cleaned off, because I was covered in...well, yeah. Are you okay?"

I got up and began balling up the sheets and bedspread. "Oh I'm just peachy. I pissed all over myself like a baby last night, so that was fun. I also will continue to piss all over myself no matter what I do, and I'll be stuck doing laundry every day for the rest of my life!"

I threw the bedding on the floor in disgust. Kate took my arm, tenderly, and stopped my tantrum.

"Hey, listen. Strip down, and go take a shower. Take that stupid thing off, get out the loofah, and scrub. I don't want you coming out until you're good and relaxed, you hear me? I'll wash the sheets." As she was saying this, Kate was already moving to take the mattress protector off of the bed.

"No, Kate, stop. You don't have to-"

"Get. In. The. Shower."

"But..."

"NOW!" I can only describe the look she was giving me as domineering. I'd never seen her like this. "Don't make me ask again."

Sheepishly, I began to disrobe.

Kate's voice returned to its normal, caring tone. "Once you're all washed up, meet me in the living room, please. I want to talk to you about something."

────────

Kate was sitting on the couch when I walked out. She pat the cushion next to her, indicating she wanted me to sit down.

"Mike, sweetie. I want you to listen to me without interrupting, okay? And please remember that all I'm saying comes from a place of love and wanting you to be happy," Kate said, her big hazel eyes looking at me imploringly.

"Umm...okay, sure yeah. What's up?" I sat down next to her.

"First, I wanted to reiterate that I understand how frustrated you must be right now. But I don't want to be the target of your outbursts. It's not fair." She paused, looking at me, and I just nodded that I understood.

"Second, I think we both can see that the whole pull-up thing isn't working. I don't want another surprise like last night." Here she stopped again, turning to grab something from behind the couch. She pulled a plastic package out and set it on her lap.

"The hospital gave us these to try if the... if we wanted to try something different," she said, pulling a white rectangle out of the package. It made a rustling sound as she grabbed it.

"Is that a....I am not wearing a diaper!"

"Mike, please, stop. Just listen. You said you wouldn't interrupt." She moved the package back to the floor, keeping the diaper on her lap.

"I'm just asking you to try, for both my sake and yours. Please?"

She didn't continue, so I took that as my cue that I could speak, but I didn't know what to say. I sat in silence, thinking, for what felt like hours.

She had a point. I had slept terribly, which was likely to make me even more irritable. But on the other hand, could I really stand to go through the embarrassment of wearing a diaper? Although I suppose it is preferable to having wet pants. I couldn't imagine the humiliation I would feel if I were to leak all over myself in public.

Finally, I broke the silence.

"I've....I've never had to put on or change a diaper before..." I said finally, hanging my head.

Kate perked up, that smile I loved hinting on her lips.

"I can help with that, babe. Just at first, until you get the hang of it. And if they don't work, we will move on to the next thing, okay?"

"Are you sure d-diapers are the best option?" I had to struggle to get the word out. "How do you know they will help?" I said, unable to take my eyes off of the plastic object on her lap.

"For one, pull-ups are pretty much already diapers. We'd just be changing them even more often."

She picked up the diaper and stood up, pulling me by the hand.

"Second, judging by the fact that I'm going to have to clean that couch cushion, I'd say we need to at least try something."

────────

"Lift up so I can slide this under you."

I obliged, holding my butt up in the air as I lay on the freshly cleaned sheets. I tried to look anywhere but at Kate.

Kate unfolded the diaper, fluffing it slightly. She positioned the diaper under me and I lowered down onto it.

"You know, this doesn't have to be all bad," she said, as she picked up a bottle of baby powder. Why did we even have baby powder? Where did that come from?

"Oh, really? Explain to me what about having my girlfriend change me into a diaper isn't all bad." I continued to stare pointedly at the ceiling.

"For starters," she said, dusting powder on my groin, "there's this." Suddenly, she reached down and began slowly stroking my cock.

"Whuuuuu-oah boy. Um just w-what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm rubbing in the powder, clearly," she said, and I finally looked to see that devilish grin back on her face. "You don't seem to be protesting that...hard," she giggled. "I figured since I'm down here, I might as well make myself useful." Without further preamble, she lowered her mouth and took me inside of it.

"That's..uhhh....o-okay...." I trailed off, lost in a mix of confusion and pleasure. It wasn't long before I was finished, and Kate was sitting back up. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and swallowed.

"Wow, you must have enjoyed that, I don't think you've ever cum so quicky."

I was too stunned to speak. My gaze had returned to the ceiling, but I wasn't focused on anything.

Kate started to move again, and I heard that crinkling sound. She pulled the diaper up and taped it snugly in place, securing me into the first of what would soon become my all-too-familiar thick and crinkly underwear.

"So tell me, Mike," she said, patting the front of the diaper as she looked over her handiwork, "was that all bad?"

[emilyshotchniss]

Paralysed

Summary : After Mr Scratch is finally apprehended, you can’t sleep without nightmares of what could’ve happened.

Pairing : Emily Prentiss x Fem BAU Reader

Warnings : Mentions of blood, death, nightmares

Word Count : 950

You headed into your hotel room and collapsed on the bed, exhausted from the day you were so eager to put behind you. Usually you can compartmentalise the bad stuff and allow yourself to unwind after the case is closed, but this one was worse than usual - way worse. A years worth of chasing had finally come to an. end. You stripped yourself of your pantsuit and jumped in the shower, attempting to scrub today's tragedies from your body.

However, as you stood under the stream, the whole day kept playing in your mind, that fear you felt overwhelm your body after regaining consciousness in the wrecked car, to find Stephen unresponsive next to you, blood dripping from his mouth, and Emily nowhere do be seen. The panic you felt paralyse you when you realised Scratch had taken her. Taking a deep yet shaky breath, you snapped back to reality and turned off the water, towel drying your hair and slipping under the covers. No one was sharing rooms tonight, everyone decided they each needed the comfort of their own space, a chance to process and grieve the days events.  Despite only having laid down for a matter of minutes, your eyelids were already drooping, sleep overcoming you.

Your eyes opened slowly, attempting to identify your surroundings - unsuccessfully, since everything was blurry. You felt a blinding pain in your head, lifting your hand to find a wound, gushing with blood. You could hear crying, then your name being called from the back window. Rubbing your eyes, you turned towards the voice, when you saw him - SSA Stephen Walker, one of the nicest guys you'd ever worked with, completely unresponsive, eyes open and blood pouring from his mouth. That's when the crying became louder, and you turned to find Penelope and Luke helping you out of the car and over to the ambulance. Yet, nothing would prepare you for what you were about to hear. As the medics addressed your wound and Penelope gently wiped your tears, your body froze:

"Where's Emily?!"

After hours of searching, you all finally tracked down the warehouse Scratch was inhabiting. Splitting up, you all stormed in, determined to find Emily. Just then, a voice came through your intercom.

"I got him, he's heading to the roof!" Luke yelled. "Where is Emily?!"

"I'm still searching," You replied shakily, trying to disguise your fear.

You turned a corner and found a hallway, with medical equipment.

"Emily?!" You whispered. Then you froze.

Emily was strapped to a bed, head lulling to the side, pale with defibrillator paddles lying next to her. Her chest was not rising. She wasn't breathing. This can't be happening.

You woke in a cold sweat, breathing heavy and your t-shirt stuck to you. You took a minute to steady your breathing, yet unable to shake that pit of dread in your stomach or stop your tears from falling. Without thinking, you grabbed your room key and walked swiftly down the corridor, tears rolling down your cheeks. You were knocking on the door before you even realised you'd left your room.

"Y/N, are you okay?"

The pit of dread had disappeared - she was here, okay, safe. Taking a deep breath you went to speak, but she stopped you.

"Y/N, you're crying, what happened?" She whispered, clearly concerned, ushering you into her room.

"Nightmare," you told her, in nothing but a faint whisper.

"Tell me what happened." She said, directing you towards her bed, that was still made, even at 3am. She wasn't sleeping.

"You- You were-" You began, the tears making another appearance. She grasped your hands and squeezed them tightly.

"We didn't make it to you in time... I- I found you- d-dead..." You choked out, succumbing to the tears now, unable to control them.

"Oh Y/N," she whispered, bringing you into her embrace. "I'm here. I'm okay, well, okay-ish," She mumbled, trying to add humour to the situation, tucking your head under her chin.

"I know," You cried. "But I don't know what I would've done if- if we hadn't found you," You sobbed. She grabbed your cheeks and forced you to look at her.

"Y/N... I'm here, I'm right here," She said softly, moving your hair off your face, tucking it behind your ears. You sniffed, lifting your hands and resting them on top of hers, not breaking the eye contact once.

"Can- Can I-"

"Yes," She said, cutting you off, already knowing what you were asking. She helped you under her covers, and pulled you into her body, fitting into her side like a glove. You lay with your head on her chest, revelling in the feeling of her fingers gently stroking your hair, the sound of her heartbeat beneath you. There was no need to say anything more - you both knew how the other felt, and there would be a time to talk about it. But for now, the sound of her heart, her breath against your ear, your fingers drawing lazy patterns on her stomach over her shirt, said everything you wanted to say. After a while, you heard soft snores coming from above you, a smile forming across your cheeks, knowing she finally felt safe. You weren't far behind her, succumbing to the slumber, intertwined with her body.

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Some references to explicitness towards the end

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 16/16 (all chapters)

You were proud of your home.

You had painted the walls yourself, built cupboards and shelves and painted those too. You’d crocheted your own throw blanket and stuffed every single cushion you owned.

You had made room in one corner for a moses basket and built a wine rack for when you had adult guests over.

It was warm and cosy and you often found yourself dozing off on the couch.

Today, in fact, was such an occasion. You opened your eyes to soft light, snuggled up in the same position as when you returned from work. You had taken off your coat and shoes and set aside your purse, meaning to take a couple of minutes before getting up to make dinner.

Clearly, that had not gone according to plan. You sat up with a wince and rubbed the spots of your back that had grown stiff. How long had you been asleep?

You moved to get up from the chair but that was easier said than done. You were, after all, extremely pregnant and even if your center of gravity wasn’t completely displaced, navigating your swollen belly was getting increasingly difficult.

This was your last week at work before you left for maternity leave and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t glad. Your nesting instincts had hit you hard within the past month or so and you’d reshuffled the furniture more times than you could count.

Nezu had been more than accommodating when he brought staff members into the dorms on site. Your dormitories were more like apartment complexes than the shared halls the students lived in. Your apartment was built to very specific requirements, namely that it was sound proofed and made from two apartments merged into one larger one, with doors connecting them together. There was enough room for Hizashi to do his radio show, for a home office, a bedroom for Eri and, more recently, a nursery.

Eri had a room to the left of yours, specifically chosen for easy access when she had nightmares and needed reassurance. You chose the room on the right of yours for the baby. Eri had offered to share her room, though you got the feeling she didn’t understand much about babies in general, let alone night time feeds and diaper changes.

You could hear three sets of voices coming from the nursery and you waddled towards it, clasping one hand over your belly and the other on your hip for balance.

Hizashi, Shouta and Eri were in the middle of building a crib, Hizashi leaning over the half finished frame, Shouta holding out tools and Eri sitting cross legged in the nursing chair, squinting at an upside down set of instructions.

“Are you sure that’s the right screw?”

“Positive.”

“It’s just that...I need five of them. How many do you have there?”

“One.”

Hizashi was a lot better at DIY projects than Shouta, thanks in part to how much of his time he spent building sound rigs and fixing his equipment. You could have lingered in the doorway forever, just watching them, though your back and ankles were already beginning to protest.

“Having fun?”

Eri gasped in happiness at the sight of you standing there, launching herself out of the nursing chair and reaching for your hand.

“We’re building the baby’s bed,” she said, hopping on the spot as you lowered yourself into the chair. “They’re following my instructions!”

“So I see,” you said. “Looks like you’re being very helpful!”

“We couldn’t do it without ya, Eri,” said Hizashi, before turning back to Shouta. “How many do you have now?”

“ One .”

“That can’t be right.”

Hizashi sat up and shuffled across to Shouta, counting out the screws and other materials.

“One,” he said, turning the screw over in his hand. “Why would they only give us one ?"

“Probably so we’d have to go back and spend more money,” said Shouta.

You sat back in your chair and rubbed your hand over your belly, glancing round at the near complete nursery. Everyone had contributed something; all four of you (and several others) had made your mark on this room.

Hizashi had assembled just about everything, from the changing station to the bookcase to the nursing chair you were currently sitting in. The very same day you told him you were pregnant, he came home with an armful of toys, almost all of which were sound related and certainly far too advanced for a newborn, though he refused to hear it. He’d also bought a music player and specialised headphones so that he could play music or voice recordings through your belly. It had become his favourite thing to do ever since your bump got noticeable, mostly because it almost never failed to make the baby kick.

Eri (under supervision, of course) had painted rainbows, clouds and kitties on the walls, as well as a picture of her and the baby enjoying a basket of apples. She didn’t know much about babies, much less what this one would look like, so her painting looked a little like a potato. She’d been something of a bad influence on Shouta, too, who couldn’t refuse her at the best of times, much less when she was pointing out cute onesies.

Shouta supplied almost all of the stuffed animals in the room, as well as the mobile you planned to hang above the cot. You hadn’t realised just how many baby toys, clothes and equipment were cat themed until Shouta bought almost all of them.

Nemuri’s gift lurked in the corner; an enormous teddy bear with glass eyes and a tartan scarf. It was almost as tall as you were and possibly the most hideous thing you had ever seen, but she and Hizashi had both smiled so widely when she brought it over that you had had little choice but to put it next to the bookshelf.

Your colleagues at UA (with the exception of Shouta and Hizashi for obvious reasons) had gifted you a storybook, with buttons at the side. They had recorded themselves speaking the lines and sometimes, when you wanted a giggle, you pulled it off the shelf and pressed the buttons yourself.

You had overseen everything without picking up quite as many individual items, though in your defense you were contributing the baby.

“That reminds me,” you said aloud without meaning to, “just a second…”

You had done something a little special, something you had been working on for weeks and couldn’t wait to hand over.

You climbed up out of the chair and waddled into the bedroom, coming back with a box you’d gone so far as to wrap with a ribbon.

“What is it, doll?”

“I got the test results back a few weeks ago,” you said with a grin, holding the box out towards them. “I was wondering how to tell you...so I made this.”

Due to your somewhat unique circumstances, you had gone through much of your pregnancy without knowing the identity of the father. You knew it was either Shouta or Hizashi, but couldn’t put that on the birth certificate.

You’d sent samples of your blood and Hizashi and Shouta’s saliva to be tested, though as far as they knew, that was where the story ended.

Both of them eyed the box in your arms, knowing that whatever was inside it would change the course of your futures. One of them was about to become a father, biologically speaking.

Eri didn’t fully understand the situation, but she did understand the concept of presents.

“Can I see?” she cried out.

“Sure, sweetie, why don’t you open it?”

You handed the box to Eri and sat back down in your nursing chair, watching in anticipation as she unfastened the ribbon and lifted the lid.

Maybe it was the hormones, but you’d been thinking about Ego a lot lately. You remembered glasses shattering against the floor, remembered your heart shattering into just as many pieces.

“It’s a onesie,” Eri cried out, dragging the black fabric out of the box.

“Sure is, honeybun,” said Hizashi. “What else is in there?”

It had been years since that night at the bar that changed everything and up until then you hadn’t been the biggest believer in destiny.

“Look,” said Eri, dragging out a small, grey strip of fabric, “it’s a scarf! Oooh, and there’s goggles!”

“That’s right! It’s a hero costume.”

You remembered how long you had shivered inside of a toilet stall, scrubbing away a stranger’s cum. You’d panicked, the reality of what you had done sinking in. You had never been so happy as when you got your next period; you didn’t even complain about the breakout and hellish cramps that came along with it.

You planted a hand on your belly, unable to stroke your son’s hair and so settling for his general vicinity.

Needless to say, you were a believer now.