#shit but not enough to do much more than pick them up quicker and keep them from scarring and give them sort of this unending ill feeling.

[trollbreak]

Ummmmm Pyrric and catsup and the space pirate guy* with the octopus tattoo were experiment buddies btw :3

[bookshelf-dust]

strawberry love

patrick zweig x fem!reader

gif by @beelarson

word count: 2,037

warnings: swearing, a smidge of anxiety, this is a sort of situation where reader matches patrick’s freak aka they are smartasses to each other, flirting, a little drinking but both reader + p are of age

synopsis: patrick, your not-quite-boyfriend-but-might-as-well-be-because-you’re-both-down-bad, wants you to spend the night at his place. your anxious brain hates change in routine, and he does everything he can to make you comfortable.

a/n: first fic for the challengers boys!! i am very pleased with how this turned out and i think i’ve managed to get a hold of patrick’s mannerisms and his personality. this is also a bit of a new dynamic for me, but i think this fic’s atmosphere is a good one. happy reading <33

————

You are so fucking grateful that Patrick is on the other end of this phone call and not sitting next to you because, if he was, he’d see how your fingers are shaking and lift them up, going “What’s this?” with that stupid fucking smirk of his. 

And he’d look at you in that teasing way that makes you hate him more than anything.

“So, what’re you thinking? Got some excuse as to why you won’t come spend the night at my place?”

You can hear the grin growing in size across his face. You’re sure he’s sitting back on his hands with the phone on speaker as if this is the most casual experience of his life. 

“Patrick, I—”

“Be honest with me here, angel. S’all I’m askin.’ We need a fuckin’ code or something now?”

“I’m just anxious as shit and any change in routine fucks with me and so that makes me not want to put my brain through that by coming over and also…it’s you.”

He laughs. “It’s me?”

“Yes! You’re too fucking relaxed all the time and you’ve always got your googly eyes on me a-and it’s like you want me to join a damn cult, Zweig!”

Patrick laughs even harder. “You need someone to counter your constant state of panic. And where else would I have my eyes?”

“Oh, fuck me sideways, you shithead.” He hears you slap your palm to your face. “Pain in my ass.”

“You want me to pick you up, pretty girl? I bet that’d ease some of your stress.”

You sigh, all dramatic and high-pitched. Your heart is doing somersaults against your rib cage. That would help, actually. Then you don’t have to plan what time to leave, accommodate for traffic, shove all your shit in the car and let your thoughts engulf you on the ride over. 

“Y-yeah, fine. Whatever.”

Patrick knows that tone. “Hey. You know I’m gonna take care of you for real, right? That I just wanna see you and get you to be present for a little, yeah?”

Your voice softens. “I know, Patrick. Just let me pack an overnight bag, okay? And text me when you’re on the way.”

“Why don’t you pack a few extra things? You know, just in case you can’t get enough of me and need to stay a few more nights.”

You hang up the phone, leaving Patrick giggling to himself against his kitchen counter. 

————

Patrick’s lips are warm when he kisses both your cheeks in quick succession. “Hi, dove.” He takes your bag from your shoulder and walks off toward his bedroom, putting your things down next to his dresser. 

He’s back quicker than should be humanly possible, bringing that cocky ass smile with him. 

“So what, you come over and don’t even want a hug from your favorite person on the planet?”

You grin, and he flushes with excitement over that victory. “Oh, fuck off,” you say, walking into his arms. 

He smells faintly of nicotine and mints, probably those ones that Sonic gives you because he has a stockpile of them in his glove box.

His chest is firm and hot beneath you, and when you press your cheek to it your mind races with thoughts you don’t want it to have. So naturally, you pull away slightly, keeping your hands on his hips. It makes him bite his lip. 

“You smoke today?” you ask, raising a brow.

“Yeah, why, you want one?”

“You keep it up, I'm not gonna be able to hug my favorite person on the planet that much longer. Pretty pink lungs gonna fuck you over.”

He lowers his head and levels with you. “You want me to quit?”

“I can’t make you, Patrick.”

He bites the inside of his cheek. He loves how you say his name.

“Oh, you could make me do anything, baby.” His teeth shine at you, and you swat his stomach. You go to push him away but he grabs your waist and starts kissing all over your face, the top of your head, the tips of your ears. He does it again and again in an effort to make you laugh. 

When you feel his fingers dance at your sides you escape him, “Don’t fucking try it!”

When the laughter in the room dies out, Patrick takes your hand and walks you to the kitchen. “Come on. I’ll make you a drink.”

You sit on one of his two barstools, stifling a laugh at the pitiful creak it makes. “Do you even have anything other than beer or whiskey? Because I don’t want either of those.” 

Patrick opens the refrigerator, motioning as if he’s clutching an aching chest. “C’mon, angel, don’t hurt my feelings. You think I wouldn’t buy the things I know my baby likes?” 

You brace your elbows on the counter and try to peek in the fridge. It’s not necessary though because he’s pulling out a container of frozen strawberries for you to see. 

“You got me stuff for—” 

“Strawberry daiquiris? Duh.” 

He places two bottles of rum on the counter, one full and the other half empty. You watch as he moves around the kitchen, gathering up the parts to the blender, which are for some reason in different cabinets. He gets out these fancy glasses (his only ones) someone gave him one time. 

“And,” he starts, “I remembered that you like it with a little less rum than most recipes call for so you’ll actually enjoy it.”

You tilt your head at him. He’s so pretty and he remembered all that shit just for you. “Lean over here for a sec, Patrick.”

He does as you say without question, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. You press a kiss to the tip of his nose. He loves that. The first time you did it he tackled you and asked you to do it again and again. 

You kiss his forehead and then the back of this hand, because boys should have their hands kissed too. 

Patrick’s cheeks are on fire. You take his face in your hands and let your gaze travel over each and every one of his pretty freckles. Your thumb rubs across his bottom lip and he moves closer, desperate for you to do anything. To give him anything. 

“Thank you for bringing me over here just to liquor me up,” you quip, your smile growing fast, eyes crinkling with humor. 

He nips the palm of your hand. “Yep. Just hopin’ to get you relaxed enough so you’ll confess your love for me, princess.”

You move away from his grasp, grinning softly at him and thinking how easily you’d confess that to him anyway. “Get back to work now, Zweig. Your strawberries have captivated me. And the curly straws.” 

His laughter is contagious.

————

Two strawberry daiquiris, and some of Patrick’s later, your anxious brain has finally settled down. You feel completely calm, and being with him makes you feel so comfortable that you don’t worry about adapting to a new space.

You register that he’s been distracting you all evening. He made your favorite drink, he’s been showering you with affection, he put on an episode of Jeopardy because he knows you like that smart feeling you get when you answer a question right. 

You’re laying on his chest, one hand snaked up underneath his sweatshirt to rest on the soft of his stomach. His skin is unbelievably warm and your fingers run back and forth over the short trail of curls there. 

“Who is Donald Sutherland, dumbass,” you say, annoyed that no one knew who played Mr. Bennet in Joe Wright’s adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. 

Patrick’s hand pushes under your shirt and rests on your spine. He starts scratching your skin lightly, up and down, up and down. You blink up at him. “That feels good.”

“Yeah? All you gotta do is ask and I’ll do it.”

“Well, will you please keep scratching my back for me, Patrick? It’s very soothing. Keeps me present.”

“‘Course I will, angel.”

“I know you like your physical affection,” you say, squeezing his hip lovingly. He kisses the top of your head as if to confirm your statement. 

“Have I succeeded in providing an anxiety-free sleepover environment for my girl?”

You push up onto your elbows so you can make eye contact with him. He leans his head back a little bit, teasingly making himself look more serious as if you don’t always have his full attention. 

Your eyes move from his to his lips and back. You start to nod. “You have. It feels like all the outside stressors don’t exist here.”

Patrick leans into your hand when you put it against his cheek. He is beaming. 

“You wanna go to bed, dove?”

“Yes, please.”

Patrick heaves you upward and over his shoulder, making you howl with laughter. You both get ready for bed quietly, doing your respective routines and getting everything settled. 

You meet Patrick in bed, padding over to the mattress in your panties and a big t-shirt. Your hands are keeping the shirt pulled down on instinct, making it look like a dress. When he sees you, he thinks he might combust. It takes everything in him not to. 

You’re so fucking sweet and perfect and gorgeous and you’ve got no clue. And you’re in his bedroom, pushing onto his bed and laying with him. Him, of all people. 

You roll onto your side and face him. He’s a little stubbly and his curls are a mess, but somehow he looks more gorgeous like this than when he’s all prettied up. He smells like toothpaste and that Old Spice deodorant he uses. Your bare knee brushes his, but neither of you move away.

Your gaze falls on the only source of light in the room aside from the moon; the children’s night light that looks like a tennis ball. Art got him that as a Christmas gift, and Patrick would be lying if he said he didn’t actually like it. 

You move your hand close enough to his body that you can feel the warmth of him, but not enough that you make any more contact. 

“Patrick, I don’t think friends treat each other the way we treat each other.” You realize your fingers are trembling. 

His smile lines grow as a grin spreads across his face. “You think so?” he asks, sarcasm dripping from every word. 

You nod, still looking at the tennis ball. Then his fingers are on your chin, coaxing you into looking at him. “D-do you think we should be more than friends?” 

Patrick’s hand hasn’t left your face. His thumb traces over your eyebrow. “I think we already are.”

“Could we maybe m-make that definitive?”

“Is this you really confessing your love for me?”

You roll your eyes so hard you might as well have rolled out of the bed. “Fuck off.” You swat at his chest and attempt to move away from him. 

He’s laughing and then he’s pulling you flush against his body, securing you there with a firm arm around your back. “You want me to be your boyfriend, don’t you?”

“I hate you.”

“Well, yeah. And I want you to be my girlfriend, angel.”

“So I can make googly eyes at you as often as you do me now?”

He squeezes the fat of your hip. “Oh, you already do. You just don’t notice how obvious it is that you’re infatuated with me. You looked like you wanted to eat me alive in the kitchen earlier.”

“The bad part is that I know you’d let me.”

“So you don’t deny the allegations?” He holds his fist up to your mouth, mimicking a microphone. 

“No, Patrick. I do want you to be my boyfriend. And I want to do this all the time. I hate how easy you make everything.” He chuckles, biting his thumbnail. “It’s not natural to be this calm. And I hate that you’ve made me a sap.” His brow raises just before you continue, “I brought clothes for like, three nights.”

Patrick hugs you to him so quickly, laughing into your cool skin. 

“I fucking knew you would.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[readerlovr]

I’ll take care of you

Pt 1

Warnings: NSFW, Sub!Drew, dom!reader, masturbation (female), handjob, P in V smut, edging, overstimulation, 18+

You pull Drew out of the building and he follows you like a stray puppy. You get in the car after you find out that Drew had a valet drive the car from the helicopter pad where you took off to the landing pad where you landed. The valet wasn’t quite ready to pick you guys up yet given you didn’t use the full estimated time of the picnic because you ate Jack shit. But you didn’t mind because you were teasing Drew all over again trying to gain his stamina back up. And it very much worked. By the time you got in the car his bulge was so big that he couldn’t hide it. Y’all’s place was quite a ways away from where you were, and you just couldn’t wait.

“You look so sexy baby.” You whisper to Drew in his ear after you take your seatbelt off.

“Baby.” He whines. “Come on, I’m driving.”

You don’t care. You start kissing his neck and going up till you reach behind his ear which is his sweet spot. He jerks away from you, trying to get away from the pleasure while he’s driving, but he doesn’t say anything. You grab his head to hold him in place as you start your attack behind his ear again. You can tell he tries to hold back his moans for as long as he can but once you placed your hand right over his package, he moaned loudly and jerked in his seat a bit which caused him to slam on the breaks a little harder than usual. You giggle at his actions as you massage him down there for a couple more seconds before you pull your hand back and sit in your seat. He takes a minute to compose himself mentally before he looks at you and shakes his head.

“You’re going to be the death of me, love.”

You smile to yourself.

“Oh come on. I was just having fun. I like making you feel good.” You say in a sweet voice.

“I know you do baby. But we have to survive this car ride home first.”

You chuckle at his comment.

“Fine, I won’t touch you for the rest of the ride.”

“Thank you.” He responds with a sweet smile.

“I’ll just touch myself.”

His face immediately drops. In an instant you’re pulling up your skirt and pushing down your underwear. Even though he just made you cum no longer than 20 minutes ago, you could go multiple rounds with Drew. But you’re doing this because he loves to watch you. It’s drives him crazy.

“Baby please. We might actually crash.” He says taking quick glances at your exposed flower.

“I trust you won’t let that happen handsome.”

He let out a frustrated whine as he knew he wasn’t winning this one. You took two of your middle fingers and sucked on them. When they were nice and lubricated you slowly traveled them down your body, giving his peripheral view a show. Once you’re at your core you rub your fingers on your clit, and you moan loudly.

“Mmm baby. I can’t wait to make you feel good just like I’m making myself feel good. Hurry up and get us home please.”

“Doing the best I can Y/n.” He says tight lipped.

You keep circling your clit until you feel like you’re wet enough. Once you feel your wetness, you stick your fingers in. You gasp at the feeling. You start going in and out slowly. It’s quiet in the car except for the sounds of other cars outside, so you both heard you making a mess so clearly. And he loved how filthy it sounds. He can’t help but to fully look over at your actions. He parts his lips in awe and he pants through his mouth. He’s so hot. He could make you cum just by looking at him.

“Like what you see baby?”

He dumbly nods as if he has not control over his body. He looks about ready to get on his hands and knees to eat you.

“Eyes on the road baby. Since you were so worried about it before.” As you move your fingers faster so the squelching sound of your core gets quicker. He looks in his rear view and his side mirror, and you know he’s thinking to pull over.

“Don’t pull over.” You say just as he touched the blinker.

“Why?” He whines.

“Because once I’m done having my way with you, you’d be too exhausted to drive baby.”

He clenched his jaw trying to keep his composure once again, but you just go faster. The faster you go the louder you moan.

“Baby girl please, you’re going to make my cum in my pants again.” He says as he palms himself. You love teasing him, however you can’t have him cumming just yet. So against your better judgment you decide to stop teasing him.

“Okay baby. I’ll stop.”

You pull your fingers out and he immediately turns to you with his mouth open. You gladly gave him what he wanted as he sucked off all of you off your fingers. He moans around your fingers.

“Thank you baby.”

You stay in your seat and check him out the entire ride back. As soon as we were in the neighborhood. You attacked him with so many kisses. Neck, face, jaw, ears. He pulled into the driveway and parks. You can feel his energy switch from having to hold back to letting it all loose. He grabs your hair and kisses you back with full force. He sticks his tongue in your mouth and moans in your mouth.

“Can we go inside now?” He asked.

“Of course baby.” You both unbuckle your seatbelt as you basically race to the door. And soon as you get in you immediately slam him into the door and kisses him. He hums into the kiss and grabs both of your thighs. He does this to you telling you to jump so he could carry toy but you deny him this time.

“No baby, it’s time for me to make you feel good. Let’s go upstairs.” You take his hand as he follows you upstairs.

Once you get in the bedroom you close the door. You drag Drew to the bed and push him on top of it. His legs are still dangling off so you straddle his lower stomach as you lean down to kiss him. While kissing you back, he sits up causing you to slide down to be seated on his crotch. He moans at the immediate contact. You move your hips back and forth to make him moan louder which he does.

“Come on Y/n stop teasing.”

“It’s our engagement night baby, I can tease you for as long as I want.”

He took strained exhale as you circle his crotch harder than you did the last time. But ultimately you decide it’s enough teasing for your own sake.

You get off his lap as you help him take off his shirt and pants.

“Lay close to the headboard, baby.”

He listens immediately. You love when Drew’s subby side comes out. He’s so cute that you can’t help but give him what he wants. You give him a show by striping down to your underwear and straddling him. You once again grind yourself down on him. And he jerks his whole body and huffs out a moan as his hands comes to your hips. You take his hands off my hips and place them beside his head and hold them there with your weight as you decided to grind harder and faster.

“Ngh, fuck baby.”

“Feels good, Drew?” You asked just like he asked you in that building. He nods his head unwilling to comprehend words. He looks so hot right now, just taking whatever you give him and he doesn’t even complain. You get off and pull his underwear down and his dick springs out and slaps his stomach. He shuts his eyes in anticipation of what you were going to do. By the time you completely got his underwear off for him he already created a pool of precum on his stomach. You grab his dick from the base and lick his stomach clean. He looks down at you in awe. You come back up facing him, still holding the base of his dock in your hands. He stares up at you with his big blue eyes waiting for you to do something. So you do. You don’t warm him up by going slow, you go straight into jack hammer mode. His precum is creating perfect lube for you as it’s constantly leaking out.

He shouts so loudly from being caught off guard. He squirms his hips and shakes his head.

“Mmm baby please!”

“What’s wrong hun?”

“I can’t!”

“You can what baby?” You respond as you keep your pace exactly the same. He moans three times in a row. Before squirming again.

“It’s too much!”

“Too much? We barely got started Drew.”

He’s trying to be good for you. So much. But you are making it so hard for him. You keep jerking him off at the same pace and when his body starts to shake and convulse because of him trying to hold his orgasm back. You stopped.

“You’re doing so good for me Drew.”

He whimpers with his eyes closed. His hands covers his face as he feels like he needs time to recover. You’ve never seen him this subby before. You slid up the bed to meet him at his face. You pry his hands away from his face.

“You okay baby?”

He nods and tries to cover his face again but you stop him.

“Hey, I need you to use words baby.” You say in the softest voice you could manage.

“I’m okay mama. I was just really close to cumming. It took a lot of energy to stop it.”

“Okay, do you want some water?”

He shook his head.

“No, just give me a minute please.”

“Anything for you baby.”

You leaned down to kiss him which he gladly accepts. He says he didn’t want any water but you remembered you have a bottle in the nightstand so you reach over and open the drawer to get it. You tell him to take a sip of it, then you put it back. You kiss him all over his face until he’s ready again.

“Okay I’m ready.” He says after a couple of minutes. You kiss him deeply as you mix your tongues together and moan into eachothers mouths. You pull away to take your underwear off your body.

“You ready for me baby?”

He whimpers and nods before you give him a slight smack to the cheek to remind him to use his words.

“Yes beautiful. I’m ready for you. I always am.”

Without anymore words, you slide right down his dick to the brim. He throws his head back and jerks his hands to almost touch your hips, but caught himself before he could do it.

“Can I touch you baby, please?”

“Not yet baby, be patient.” You say as you push his hands back down to the sides of his face. He moves his hands to grip the headboard so he wouldn’t be tempted. He lets out breathy moans as you fuck him into yesterday. He looks so good that you start feeling too good for your own body. You won’t be able to last long with him being so good all night.

He threw his head back again and moaned louder as you changed the pace.

“That feels good Drew?”

He nods deliriously. “Mhm.” Is the only thing he could salvage. You start riding him faster trying to make him feel good as possible. You leaned down and suckled behind his ear knowing that would drive him crazy. He literally shouted.

“Baby, can I- can I cum?”

“Mm I don’t know Drew. You edged me earlier because you said I was being a tease just because i wanted my crazy attractive, amazing boyfriend to feel good. I think that’s a little mean, don’t you think?” You asked a bit out of breath from your excursions.

“Mmm.” Is all he got out. You know because he used up all of his energy to hold his orgasm back before he doesn’t have the energy to hold it for too long if you keep fucking him. You wait too hear one more loud shout before you pull him out. He lets out a relieved but a breath control exhale.

“Just breathe baby. I got you. It’s okay.” You say before you slid down on his dick again but harder this time.

Drew’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he shakes his head no. He lets in a long inhale, but he lets it out in staggers.

“Breathe baby, it’s okay, you got it.”

He shakes his head again.

“Baby I’m going to cum!” He says in a higher pitched voice than normal.

“It’s okay baby you could cum.”

That’s all he needed for him to let go completely. He lets out a strangled moan as his release sucker punches him in the gut.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The last fuck was drawn out.

You keep fucking him through his orgasm. When he comes down he moves his hands from the headboards trying to stop you, you take his hands again and hold it down with your weight. He can obviously take control if he really wanted to given he was stronger than you but he loved letting you take control.

“Baby it’s too much! I’m too sensitive!”

You poked your lips out at him giving him a mock sad face.

“I know baby. But do you think you could handle it until I cum?”

He rolls his eyes closed and nods.

“Anything for you my love.”

You lean down to kiss him softly. You love this man with all your heart. You pick up the pace a little and he furrows his brows from his sensitivity.

“It’s okay baby, I’m almost there okay.”

He nods. You take your middle fingers and stick them into Drew’s moist and he sucks on them immediately. He knew exactly what you wanted, and he knows you find it so hot when he does that. You take your fingers out his mouth with a pop as you move your fingers to rub your clit. You take your other hand and guide his hand to your body, silently telling him he could touch you now.

From to the way Drew looks to the way he is acting, it’s turning you on so bad, you’re right on the brink of an orgasm. He’s gripping you everywhere, trying to make up for lost time where he couldn’t touch you.

Right when your core starts clenching when you’re close, Drew body starts jerking again. His head thrashed from side to side.

“What’s happening to me?” He whimpers and squeezes your hips so tight you might be bruised in the morning.

You keep going knowing that another orgasm blindsided Drew and he didn’t know he could have orgasms back to back like that. You keep going and you too go over the edge when you hear the most beautiful guttural sound from your fiancé.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.” He chants along with some other things you can’t quite make out. You moan in his ear as you finish your orgasm as well.

You lie on his chest as you both come down. When you come down you notice Drew still have aftershocks of his orgasm. You pull him out of you as he hisses. You could still see small spurts of cum leaving his dick. You look at his whole body in awe right now. Totally fucked out, flushed skin all over, and as you suspected he has no energy at all. He is dozing off by the time you go get cleaned up. You take a washcloth and start to wipe him down. He jerks hard and tries to push your hand away.

“Please, no more.”

“I know baby. It’s over I got to clean you up. I’m sorry.” You kiss his hip in consolation. But that didn’t stop his squirming as you cleaned him.

“Okay all done.”

He holds out his arms for you to cuddle him which you gladly do after throwing the washcloth in the hamper. He lays his head on your chest.

“Goodnight my beautiful fiancé.”

Even after fucking him delirious he still knows what to say.

[masterjedilenawrites]

Hello there! I have a promt for you :)

What about TBB reacting to Omega getting her first period and/or the reader having a fear of needles but she needs a vaccination to travel to a planet?

Hello! I actually wrote a piece on Omega getting her first period and how her Batch brothers reacted. Read it here! 

I haven't written anything close to the second prompt though, so I can do that one!

TBB & Reader | 1.7k words

Content: fear of needles/trypanophobia and related symptoms, brief description of a deadly disease, Star Wars cursing, platonic but you could read more into the Hunter or Wrecker bits if you wanted (Tech or Crosshair too, tbh, they're not getting any more comforting than that lol)

To say you were panicking was an understatement. You were utterly and completely freaking out. And worse, you were trying desperately not to let your companions see it. You'd fought valiantly beside them for the better part of a year, never once shying away from the things that would make others quake in their boots. But now you were moments away from having to face your biggest fear, and if they saw what it was, they'd never stop teasing you for it.

So you stayed out of the way as they made their preparations for landing, keeping your trembling hands behind your back and your gaze fixed as steadily as possible on an invisible point on the wall ahead. Thankfully they didn't seem to notice or care that you weren't helping out. But you couldn't escape their attention forever.

"Alright, you're next!" Tech called your name as the last of his brothers left their perch in front of him. You'd been keeping Tech and his needles in your periphery, not wanting to fully look at any of them, but also wanting to keep an eye out in case one of them magically took flight and caught you by surprise.

"No thanks. I'll be fine," you tried to dismiss the plan as nonchalantly as possible. But even Hunter stopped his packing to cock an eyebrow at you.

"You'll be fine?" he asked with a disbelieving laugh, like you'd just said you had a third arm. "It's a disease, sweetheart. You can't shoot it out of the air. Vaccine's the only way to protect yourself."

"It's an airborne virus, to be specific," Tech clarified. "Deadly to any species other than the natives of this planet. But thankfully they've donated enough blood to the GAR to help develop an effective vaccination. It's the only way we can go down to help them against the droids that ravage their world."

You made the mistake of looking over at Tech just as he held up a syringe and flicked its side. Holy kriffing bantha shit, was that needle long and thick. It was like a kriffing pipe. It glinted in the lights of the ship, like it was winking at you. Mocking you. Your heart immediately started picking up its pace.

"I'll take my chances," you tried one last futile attempt at escape. Somehow you kept your voice steady, forcing a normal tone around the frog that had lodged itself your constricting throat. But then Crosshair spared a glance in your direction and the ruse unraveled.

"You're scared," Crosshair stated plainly. He probably saw the bead of sweat that had just formed at your hairline. Or maybe he could see the veins in your neck pulsing quicker than they should've.

"You'll take large boils, severe dehydration, and bloody vomit over a shot?" Echo asked. Wrecker paused along with him and now everyone's attention was focused on your first ever display of fear. Fantastic.

"Not to mention death," Wrecker pointed out. "That's the worst symptom."

"I don't know if it could be called a symptom so much as a consequence," Tech mused.

"A consequence no one in the ship will be facing, thank you," Hunter asserted, finally walking over to you. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder, but his next words were a bit softer. "It doesn't hurt that much. You'll be okay."

You supposed you were grateful they were taking a more questioning and supportive approach than one of teasing, but it still didn't rectify the problem of you needing to go through with this shot anyway.

"I'm not worried about the pain," you muttered. "It's the..."

Your eyes flicked over to where Tech was still holding that damned needle high and proud. A chill overcame you and you felt yourself blanching.

"Okay, okay," Hunter quickly moved his hand to grasp your arm in an effort to keep you upright. "How about you sit down first. We'll walk you through this one step at a time."

Hunter waved Wrecker over and the burly clone immediately came over and picked you up. You weren't cured from your phobia but you did find his embrace comforting. You continued to cling to him as he sat you down on the counter by Tech. He chuckled but didn't protest. He stood next to you and kept his arm securely around you.

"Okay," Hunter said soothingly. "Now let's find a distraction for you. Keep your thoughts on something else."

"Maybe Tech could tell us all about the difference between bacteria and viruses," Echo said sarcastically.

You missed the glare Tech gave in response, unable to even think about what he looked like for fear of picturing a needle in his hands as well.

"Or," Hunter butt in, sensing your need for a different kind of distraction. "Let's practice your knife skills. Here."

He pulled out one of his trusty vibro-knives and placed it in your hand. The hilt was cold against your skin, heavy in your grip. You tried to focus on those sensations instead, and it almost worked in keeping your attention, until a different kind of cold feeling hit your other arm and you freaked out all over again.

"It's only a numbing swab," Tech said with a tinge of annoyance.

"No. No, no, no." You were shaking your hand frantically, scooting yourself backwards on the counter to get as far away as possible. Wrecker's arm tightened around you, preventing you from moving. "Nope. I can't do this."

"Sure you can," Wrecker tried to reassure you, but to no avail. You trembled against his hold.

"No. No, I'll just sit this one out. Stay on the ship. You boys go without me."

Tech huffed again, having to re-explain information he'd already shared when you'd first gotten this mission. "That won't work. We'll still be exposed to the virus and bring it back to the ship with us. We'll have to undergo a whole decontamination process when we're back on Kamino, the ship, too. And then it's quarantine for a minimum of 72 hours...."

You weren't listening. Your face felt wet. Were you crying or just sweating? Hunter was trying to get you to focus back on the blade in your hand, but your fingers were shaking so bad you couldn't even hold it.

"Maybe we should just knock her out," Crosshair said. He'd kept himself out of the situation but now couldn't help himself. Your agitation was too amusing.

"We're not knocking her out," Hunter rolled his eyes before cooing your name. You begrudgingly looked over at him. "It's okay. Please just twirl the knife and don't think about anything else. It'll be over before you know it."

A sudden clatter came from Tech dropping the syringe and you could almost feel Hunter's blood start to boil in annoyance. Just when he kept getting you to a good place....

"Tech," he growled.

You cowered into Wrecker's arms again. This could not be happening.

"What?" Tech was saying. "It slipped."

"I don't want to do this," you moaned, maybe a tad dramatically. You shut your eyes tightly, and prayed that when you opened them again, you'd find this was just some horrible dream.

"Oh for kriff's sake," came Crosshair's voice. "Hold her down."

Wrecker's other hand seized your arm in such a way that you couldn't move it. But even so, it happened so quickly you couldn't process fast enough to keep up. He gripped your arm and then there was a tight pinch as something broke through your skin. By the time your brain caught up to what was happening, Crosshair was already pulling the needle back out, swift and smooth. Your eyes flew open and your mouth formed a silent scream, but there was nothing to panic about anymore. The syringe was back out of sight, and in its place was but a mere drop of blood ballooning on the surface of your skin. Echo quickly stepped in to fix a bandage over it.

And that was that.

"See? Not so bad," Wrecker said with a chuckle. He finally released his hold on you, making you whine a little at the loss of such a solid support. You still felt woozy, though you had to admit the panic was dissipating fast.

Hunter, however, was not getting over his feelings as easily. He scowled at both Tech and Crosshair, though the latter was already leaving the scene to return to packing his weapons kit.

"That was a lot of fuss over nothing," Tech said plainly, refusing to meet Hunter's gaze. "Now I just need my shot, and then we can land and get on with the mission."

"You know, Tech," you said, glad you were able to find your voice again and it not sound too embarrassingly faint. "It might help me to get over this fear if I gave you your shot."

"Ha ha, very funny," the goggled clone shook his head, but then looked up at you nervously to gauge if you were serious. The smirk in your lips combined with the fact your face still hadn't recovered its color was indication enough you were not serious at all, only trying to give him as much grief as he'd given you.

"I think Cross has proved he has the steadiest hand," Echo played along with a smirk of his own.

Tech seemed to consider the idea before scooping up all the supplies onto his tray and shuffling away. "I think I can manage to inject myself, thank you. ETA is five minutes. Chop chop."

You let out a tired laugh as Tech disappeared into the cockpit. The others slowly went into their landing positions as well. Except Hunter, who folded his arms and gave you a strange look.

"So. Needles, huh? I was wondering what your weakness would be."

The faintest of smiles played on his features, helping you settle further into your own relief.

"Thank you," you said in response.

"For what?"

"For not making fun of me... And helping me get through it. Or, at least trying."

Hunter uncrossed his arms and stepped forward so he was close enough to put his hand on your shoulder once more.

"We've got your back. Always."

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[pedrosprincesa]

Landslide

pairings: joel miller x afab!reader

a/n: I didn't mean to become the person that writes fics based on Fleetwood Mac songs, but here I am. I listened to this song yesterday and the idea for this hit me. I am a shitty writer usually, and I am definitely NOT good at writing smut so for now you will only be getting fluffy Joel from me. follow me if you enjoy i guess!!

warnings: fluff, age gap (reader is mid- to late twenties, Joel is 56), not proofread, no use of y/n that I know of, I'm still dyslexic

wc: 3327 <3

It's not that I expected to have a crush on this man that seemingly picked me out of a dumpster fire. He found me at the brink of death by a few raiders. Joel had a soft spot for women, if that wasn't obvious enough. When he saw me, I didn't look much older than Ellie. The fear in my eyes and how close I knew I was to death gave me more youth I suppose.

Whatever it was, I was grateful to see him after he took out all three men that had been hunting you down. He had blood splattered across his face, panting after the exertion of strength he used to take them out. I would never forget how beautiful I thought he was, just in that moment.

He never meant to have a third person join along on the cross country trip. Hell, taking care of Ellie was enough to wear him out.

Joining about fifteen miles outside of Kansas City, I was met with an unenthusiastic Ellie and a hard-faced Joel. I didn't get the details of the event that occurred right away, but eventually I learned quickly that unenthusiastic wasn't normal for Ellie, and Joel... well, he was hard-faced. After some inevitable conversations, we all got to know each other as much as we would allow. Keeping each other safe can do that. Joel found out I was in my mid-twenties and he stopped treating me like a child, almost. He was quicker to give me a gun as opposed to Ellie—which, best believe, she gave him shit about—however, Joel just explained it was because I was older. I also thought it was because he realized quickly that I was pretty good with it too. However, he still hardly looked at me in anyway, let alone that way, and I blamed some of that on my age.

Joel also dealt with my presence, because Ellie had someone else to share her jokes with. I was also the one that kept Ellie curious, giving her random facts about things as well as knowing how certain things worked that Joel couldn't explain. He might have even smiled a few times because of me. That was something to gloat about.

It took a bit for him to warm up to me, but long nights on watch, sleeping in the same place a majority of the time to let Ellie have the bed if there was one, both made it hard not to speak. When we really started talking, I could see that he would enjoy other conversations with me. I was older than Ellie, and I knew about some of the music and movies Joel grew up with. If I hadn't seen the movie, he'd explain the plot to me loosely. One night I told him I've only ever seen The Emperor Strikes Back out of the Star Wars movies. Ellie had never seen any of them, but she was ecstatic to listen to Joel explain the premise of the movies about space and cool aliens.

Star Wars was easy to get her in to. Over about the month trip, I taught her about Fleetwood Mac too. The songs didn't really get her attention too much, mostly because I was only really humming a lot of it, but she really got into all the drama that happened in the band. Joel didn't ever comment on it until one night, he finally just asked, "how do you know all of this? This stuff was happening before you were born." I couldn't help but laugh as I closed my eyes. "Reading, Joel. Magazines are still pretty easy to find."

When we made it to Jackson, Wyoming, the welcome was about as warm as the weather. Guns aimed straight at our heads. Joel and I both knew we would pass the test with the dog, but Ellie... I could feel my heart pounding, until I heard the sweet little girl's giggles as the dog gave her kisses. Joel mentioned we were out looking for his brother and one woman just seemed to know exactly who it was.

Joel got to reunite with his brother, which was sweet, and luckily that connection got us a nice house across from theirs. Joel let Ellie and I get the first showers. Maria gave us shampoos and conditioners, body wash and even some lotion for after the shower. I was faster than Ellie, and I came out with damp hair and the new, clean clothes that were just a bit too big for me. I looked up and I just saw Joel's face kind of soften when he looked at me. It felt like he was really taking me in for the first time. I really don't think he's seen me freshly clean. Sure we got river water here and there, but now I was clean, smelled good, and I felt like I could just sit back and relax. "I saved you some hot water. I didn't trust Ellie to." I told him with a little smile. He didn't even get a chance before Ellie came into the living room.

"Jesus Christ, I'm probably fucking bald. So much hair came out. Is that normal?" She asked me. I took a look at her head and she definitely wasn't bald.

"Not bald, honey. It just happens when you wash your hair after a long while." I assured her.

Honey. Joel liked it when I called her that. His face didn't change much, but he looked down at his lap for a moment, taking in a sweet, almost domesticated moment for the three of us.

"Now you need to get a bath, because you smell awful." Ellie told him, grinning widely and he only had a half smirk and rolled his eyes before he got up from his seat.

The first week of being in Jackson consisted of lots of rest, and lots and lots of food. Both of which we hadn't been used to in a really long while, so much that this felt like a fairytale. I was waiting on the moment I would wake up. Maria and Tommy let us have a few days to ourselves to sleep. We really didn't have to worry about anything sneaking up on us. Joel tried staying up late that first night, but he found himself in his bed, after obsessively making sure all the windows and doors were locked, he was asleep for well over fifteen hours. He was so exhausted.

During those few days of having three meals a day, and occasionally seconds, I noticed Joel was looking a little more fuller, as was Ellie. It made my heart swell that they were both getting healthy again, and we weren't living off of scraps essentially. I had a feeling I was really going to like it here.

At the end of the week, Maria suggested we all have dinner as a "family" since the first meal on our first day didn't go as well as I wanted it to. Honestly, I was pretty convinced she had the wrong idea about me and Joel. We had only talked briefly the day we arrived when she gave us the clothes and supplies and she let me know our house was stocked with everything we needed. In my clothes, Maria had graciously gifted me. Ellie snatched out the small, lace lingerie bottoms and her jaw was dropped. "Ew! What the fuck is this even covering, dude! Do girls really wear this?" Ellie scoffed at the ancient artifact at this point, Victoria's Secret lingerie. I could never wear those now.

I had to give Ellie a little pep talk (I actually pleaded) for her to say nicer things at the table. Just try to at least, and she seemed very serious about it. She actually did well for the most part. When she started to slip up and say a curse word, if it hadn't came fully out, she just switched it up. If it did slip out fully, she just gave a wide eyed look at the table, before glancing at me and I just gave her a secret little "it's okay" to make sure she didn't stress about it too bad.

After dinner was over, it was obvious that Joel and Tommy were still having a bit of fun so there wasn't much of a push to leave. I didn't think I'd ever seen him this happy, but he was also a few glasses in. Maria mentioned we move to the back porch to have a fire going, since the living room had become overwhelming quickly. We could actually have a fire now. That was new, but I would enjoy that heat as much as I could.

It was a night of the Miller brothers easily bantering about who could shoot the furthest, and Joel just let Tommy have that, being the selflessly older brother type. He didn't care too much to have the title, but he knew Tommy was full of shit. "Nah, Joel's good at stuff too. Fantastic carpenter in the day. Decent guitar player. Has he played guitar for you yet?" Tommy asked, motioning over to me and Ellie.

"Yeah, totally, whenever we find a working guitar in the woods trying to get across country." I responded sarcastically, making every everyone laugh a bit. I took the chance to see the him laugh. It was honestly more like a giggle. Tommy must've had something stronger than the watered down shit he got from the QZ. Or Joel knew this was a place where he knew he could indulge a little more now. Either way, I just relished in the sight of how happy he looked.

"Well lucky for y'all, I actually found one. Months ago. I sure as hell dunno how to play it, but I liked having it around. Gave me a little piece of my brother." He mentioned with a sappy smile before he got up and went to grab it. He came back with it, and it was honestly in good shape. "Think you can still play?" Tommy asked Joel, holding the guitar out to him by the neck until he took it. "S'been a while since I've heard live music. Not sure anyone around here as a musical bone in their body." He added before he took his seat again.

Joel held the guitar in his lap, trying to find the right positioning in. Once he found it, he easily slipped back into it. "Well, you're not gonna get much. I'm pretty rusty, I'd say." Joel told Tommy when he cleared his throat, just giving a prompt warning not to expect anything crazy.

"Thought you wanted to be a singer, man?" Ellie asked him, always giving him a hard time, but that was how these two bonded. I had never seen such a thing, but it was so sweet. Even the way Joel gave her a scowl back made me smile. "Good thing you can though." Ellie mentioned. The little mastermind knew about my crush on Joel, after so much interrogation, of course. I wasn't going to just give it up until she pulled out all the times she's caught my "longing stares" at him in any situation. I didn't feel like it was a bad thing, the staring. It was better than my other option. Confessing how much I cared for this handsome man that happened to be double my age, and then having to be rejected. That would've made traveling a hell of a lot harder. I was convinced he didn't see me that way. He had said it once before—Ellie and I were only cargo.

Joel glanced up at me when Ellie mentioned I could sing. He just spent a whole month walking across the country, protecting each other, killing for each other. We had all seen each other at our lowest, yet he didn't know I could sing? Not that it was his fault necessarily. I only did it a couple times when I was explaining how Fleetwood Mac songs sounded like to Ellie, mostly while he was asleep. I was too shy to do it otherwise. "You can?" He asked and I felt everyone's eyes on me.

Luckily the orange light from the fire completely give away how bad I was blushing. "A little—not much. I only remember one acoustic song and it's "Landslide"... by Fleetwood Mac." I cleared my throat, giving a side eye to Ellie for getting me into this mess.

"You know how to play that one! After Sarah forced yo—" He cut himself once he consciously knew the name that slipped out of his mouth in the moment. It got quiet. Ellie and I were so aware of how we were not supposed to bring her up. It was an unspoken rule at that point.

Joel only looked at his brother for a moment before looking away and he nodded his head. "I do know how to play it." He finally responded with a little nod. "Practiced so much, it's muscle memory." His lips curved up just enough, barely giving him a little smile. It said what it needed to. Sarah had made him learn how to play it for whatever reason, and it was a memory he almost forgot about.

He started strumming the song after tuning a few bum strings and Ellie nudged me to make sure I was going to sing the lyrics. She was so excited. I could do it for her.

It was a very surreal experience, singing a song about the changes and challenges of life, especially in a post-apocalyptic world, where each one of us had lost people, lost ourselves. At one point I could see a tear fall down Maria's face but I had to focus my eyes elsewhere not to start crying myself. The song ended and this time, it was Joel that had the longing stare as he slipped the instrument out of his lap. Ellie caught it and she got a little twinkle in her eye, having an idea that her plan was falling into place. This could be the start of her very own real family.

After that, once Tommy checked the time, he knew he should probably be getting to bed because he had work tomorrow. He told his older brother to come on out so he could show him a few things. We were going to have to work as long as we were here, however long that may be, but it wasn't bad. We've had way worse. "Oh! Before you go!" Maria said and I raised my eyebrows a little, Ellie standing close by and Joel was already at the front door. Maria hurried back with a CD and The Very Best of Fleetwood Mac was printed on the top. "Go ahead and learn a few more songs. Keep the music alive, and the joy that comes with it. There will be more where that's coming from." She told me and Ellie looked wide eyed at the CD. It had all the songs I was telling her about.

"Thank you so much." I told her softly, taking her in for a hug. Joel watched me hug her and smiled a bit again. He knew I was full of love, even after all of these years. i could find love for anything, the moon. the clouds in the sky, colorful weeds that lined the roads we walked to get there. That scared him. He didn't know if he was worthy of it, after everything he's done. He knew I would be able to love him. He did make a mental note to try and maybe flirt back to test the waters with me, see if I was serious—even though I was every single time I made a slightly flirty comment.

"Hey, do you guys have any of the Star Wars movies by chance?" Ellie asked Maria curiously, breaking a soft moment. She figured if they had Fleetwood Mac, they could possibly have the movies she wanted to see so badly.

"We have all of them, episodes one and two, and four through six. Which one were you wanting to watch?" Maria raised her eyebrow a little with a smirk when Ellie squealed.

"All of them! Please!" Ellie bounced a bit and I couldn't help but smile wider. "Hear that Joel? We're gonna be watching all of the Star Wars movies!" She turned back to him, just to make sure he was as excited as she was about it, but this was excited Joel for the most part.

"Sure, Ellie. But I'm not watching them all in one night. They're pretty long movies. I'm too old for all that." He told her, letting her follow him back over to the house across the street with his arm obnoxiously draped over her head.

"Thank you, again. And just drop off the movies whenever you can. She's gonna go crazy." I laughed a bit as I walked out the door.

"We will. Take care of him, alright? Well, both of 'em. But let him know it's okay to loosen up a little around here." Tommy told me as I walked down the steps. After tonight, it was obvious to him that I was something a little more special to his brother, even if no one else could see it. Tommy caught all the little glances he never thought he'd see Joel give again. I had a power over you that I would probably never know the extent of. Tommy knew he was going to give Joel hell tomorrow though. He didn't know why Joel hadn't already made a move.

"I will take care of them!" I waved to them as I made it out to the street, getting across to my new home. Tommy and Maria made sure I made it inside safely before closing their door as well.

Once I was in my bed for the night, in clean clothes, under an actual duvet and an actual pillow, I was so close to sleep. I had fallen asleep so quickly in the last week. Just as I could feel myself drifting off, I heard my door creak open.

"Darlin'? You awake?" I heard Joel's deep southern accent say in the dark. I could barely make his outline out in the doorway, sure enough he couldn't see my eyes well enough to know if I was still awake or not.

"Yeah, I'm still awake." I partly lie. I hadn't been quite at that point yet, but I'm pretty sure him calling me darling would've woken me out of anything. It only happened a few times, and each time he's said it, it's just felt like an accident, like it just slipped out. This time, though, that felt real. "What's up?"

It took him a minute to answer, like he was actively trying to think of what to say, like he hadn't been rehearsing it. I would've paid good money to get a look of the expression his face held right now. "I, uh, was wonderin' if you'd come to my room, to sleep? Got kinda used to having you at my side at night. This last week sleepin' in'a different room, it's been..." it was like he was trying to find the right words to say, so he didn't sound like an idiot at my door.

Little did he know, explaining himself wasn't needed. I was already getting out of bed hugging my pillow, and I slipped by him in the doorway, headed to his room. He was kind of stunned, like he was surprised his pathetic attempt worked. "Well, c'mon cowboy. I'm ready for bed." I ushered him before walking into his room.

He had his girl safe in bed down the hall, and his girl waiting on him to get in bed. Maybe this was a great place for him.

[iris0-0]

I promise I’m here.

Mom!Tess Servopoulos x sh!daughter reader

Synopsis: Tess, your mother has always given you tough love. Trying to raise you to be respectful and grateful. Though when hard times fall upon you, you cannot seem to tell your mother as you feel she will see you as weak and pathetic.

Warnings: Tess being soft, reader is referred to in more female pronouns, blood, mentions of depression, mentions and descriptions of self harm, I do not encourage this behavior and am here for anyone <3 this is definitely not personal

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Familiar sounding music invaded the current deep sleep you were in. Eyes fluttering open, before quickly closing them due to the early morning light invading through the blinds.

The door opens and you feel a harsh pat on your back, “Cmon kid, gotta catch the bus.” Tess says, making sure you’re awake before leaving the room.

Getting up you looked at the old digital clock on the nightstand that read 6:40 a.m. Fuck. If you didn’t pick up the pace there would be another tardy slip with your name on it, and with that a scold from your mother.

Grabbing whatever pants were on the desk chair and a shirt you grab the same black zip-up jacket you took everyday…to hide the scars. Thankfully your mother Tess wasn’t very noisy as long as you didn’t give any “teenage attitude” was what she liked to call it. So she never really picked up on your habits

Self-harm wasn’t something you were proud of. It started 3 years ago when you were 13. Middle school was an absolute bitch, not to mention the other struggles that have happened in the meantime. You tried to get clean….but it never lasted long, it was a tough battle.

Slipping on the jacket and grabbing your book bag you go down the stairs to grab a banana or some shit to say you ate breakfast. Tess was brewing a cup of coffee before she herself was off to work. She eyed you up and down a bit before smirking to herself. Annoyed you give her a look that basically said ‘what?’.

“When’s the last time you washed that jacket?” She asked. “You were it practically everyday.” Walking towards you she tried to get closer to at least make sure it smelled clean, as teenagers could be lazy or dirty sometimes.

Not wanting her to move the jacket in case of any risk of exposing what was below you responded in a bantering manner to try and keep up your cool act. “Mom! Stop it! I washed it this week.” You smile dodging her grasp and walking to the door to catch the bus.

“If you say so.” She shrugs. “Go learn and shit.”

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School. Highschool sophomore to be specific. Grades weren’t that much of a problem, you were told you were ‘a smart kid’. Having average level classes and a work ethic (sometimes) helped. It wasn’t the work, it was the people.

Once again for English there was a project. Why do English teachers have a project nobody likes every week? Everyone got up and looked around to choose partners…nobody chose you. Shocker. ‘Okay, who cares? I’ll do it myself as usual.’ You thought.

But of course it wasn’t okay. Depression shuffled your mind again replaying old scenarios and listing reasons why none of the other kids wanted to work with you.

Putting headphones on and shuffling random shit, mainly tv girl you got to work and try to forget but to no avail. Taking a break in the middle to go to the bathroom.

Always keeping a blade handy you sit in the bathroom stall. ‘Why am I doing this again? Don’t really know don’t really care.’ You think.

Taking the jacket off halfway the view of the old and fresh marks come into place. It was never enough. Addicted was the word, but it’s perfectly fine isn’t it?

‘Doing what I do best.’ Sliding the blade like it was a damn hobby. Did it sting? Maybe a little but the relief was too strong, it overpowered any pain. That was, until you zoned out. Going deeper, was it intentional? Who knows.

Hitting a vein blood trickled down, quicker than the cuts before that would stop bleeding soon. There was too much. And of course depression comes with anxiety. How come you were fine mutilating yourself but the moment you got dizzy all hell broke loose. I need to get out.

Quickly thinking of an excuse out of habit you called the only person you had, your mom. Were you dying of blood loss? Hell no. But you were on the verge of passing out and eating shit on the schools bathroom floor.

The phone rang a few times.

“Please..please..please.” You mutter.

T: “Hello? Im in a meeting did you butt dial me again?” Your mom Tess says, a bit confused.

“I need you to pick me up, please.”

T: “Kid, I’m in the middle of a meeting.” She sighs, though she hears the panic in your voice. “If it means that much to ya I’ll getchu right after, in maybe half an hour?”

“Okay.” You respond swallowing your tears.

T: “You cryin kid?” She asks suddenly concerned.

“No.” You deny, and you can hear her sigh from the other end.

T: “I’ll get you in a bit.” She said sternly.

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About a half an hour passed. The bleeding was under control but you were weak as hell. Loosing blood was no joke, dizzy and nauseating to say the least. ‘I think I just lost more blood than a period.’ You thought.

A text from your mom saying she’s here and you signed out at the front office, slightly swaying in your steps as you walk the short walk from the front of the school to the car.

Tess was sitting, hand on the steering wheel. The glint from the sun shining just over the scar under her eye. You couldn’t read her face. Was she pissed about picking you up two hours into the school day and about you interrupting her meeting. Regardless you opened the car door.

“Thank you.” Was the only thing spoken and Tess nodded to the action keeping her eyes forward as she drove the two of you home.

Walking in the house Tess put up her keys. You tried to sneak upstairs. “Nope. Come back.” Tess said sternly before pointing to the couch. “Sit.”

Annoyed but not trying to test your mother, you sat your ass back down. “Tell me why I picked you up.” She asked and you just shrugged looking at the floor.

“That’s not an answer and you know it. I love you and I’m trying not to be upset with you but kid, I need to know. You called me in the middle of a meeting you knew I was in crying.” Tess said, a bit stern.

“It doesn’t even matter.” You say a bit annoyed at the persistence and not having an answer to the question that you wanted to tell her.

“Look at me.” She says, as you look straight at the ground. “I just didn’t feel good.” You say looking her in the eye, it was hard. She had the type of eyes that made you spill everything.

Staring felt like forever her eyes narrowing, until your left eye twitched. “You’re lying.” She says crossing her arms over her chest. “No I’m not.” Your eye twitches again, betraying you.

“Yes you are! Your eye is twitching like Nemo’s fucking special fin.” Tess responded. “How the hell would you even know if I was lying? You’re always gone!”

“Language! I’m gone providing for you!” The two of you yelled back and forth for ages. Slowly but surely you were growing enraged. Having bipolar disorder and anger issues Tess knew you needed to calm down before you passed out.

“Okay come on you need to calm down.” She says strictly but assuringly. Even though she was upset with the argument as well she didn’t want it to get worse with you passing out for continuing to dig your nails into your arms.

She took ahold of your shoulders and began to guide you to your room. And shortly after being alone you’d calm down and she’d come back and the two of you would talk it out.

But…that did not happen this time. As she tried to move you, you resisted. “Hey stop. Calm down.” She said trying to grab your arms as you tried to get out her reach. With the fresh cuts and the excessive deep one a whine of pain was let out.

Tess paused momentarily and debated on backing off, but she didn’t. You had been acting different and were on the verge of a panic attack.

With harsh short breaths through go your nose you knew there was nothing else you could do to hide anymore, you were too weak. “What’s hurtin’ hm?” Tess states touching your hands, shoulders, and head gently.

But when she glides over your arms you bit your lip. Razor burn was hitting hard. “Okay let’s get this off..” she mumbles slowly taking the jacket off after she sat you down on the couch.

“Oh honey…” was all Tess could say, staring at the cuts, scars, deep, and shallow. She tries to comfort you but too shaked up and overstimulated. “Okay okay.” Tess backs off, leaving for a short moment to grab the random first aid crap in the bathroom.

She comes back and cleans very carefully, trying not to upset or overstimulate you. As well as to not hurt you. “Breath baby.” She holds your face softly trying to calm you down.

After awhile the cleaning and wrapping is done. It was safe to say Tess could understand why. You had bad bipolar disorder and meltdowns. “Why didn’t you tell me hm?” She asks sitting next to you.

“Cause I didn’t want to worry you and give you more trouble cause it started when dad left and-“ You couldn’t finish beginning to sob.

She pulls you into her tightly and holds you. Quietly shh’ing you, cradling you like a baby. “I’m here I’m not going anywhere. I’m not him.”

Tess holds onto you as you fall asleep. And she’ll always be there for you.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

THIS TOOK FOREVER OVER A WEEK I GOT STUCK. Anyways happy birthday to me <3 Love you stay safe.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Also to mention for that anon thinking it’s an extreme thing to take Bambi, what do you think would have happened had alba not picked Bambi up from school? They would have called social services. Like how can a parent not only forget their child at school but then not notice or care where they are all night. Alexia assumes alba is drunk at her house and doesn’t even consider hey where is my other child. She completely removed her from her mind and couldn’t have possibly thought oh maybe my DAUGHTER is with her aunt but nope Alba must be drunk and here to sober up. It would be different if she saw alba saw her upset and went oh shit I forgot I’m so sorry but she didn’t she didn’t even think of her. Which confirms to alba that this has to be going on for a while cause you don’t just forget your kid like that once. Also adds the questions of is Bambi being physically cared for PROPERLY like sure she’s getting basic needs met but is she eating enough, is she getting help to bath, are they making sure her teeth are brushed or she’s sleeping well. All questions that are for sure running through albas mind at that point. And all things nursery would have picked up on quicker had she been attending regularly. Which is also kind of negligent at that age nursery is so good for kids to get interaction with kids their own age and to jump start learning but keeping her from that for their convenience is also neglectful. Sorry this is so long just reading what you shared woke up so much in my own mind about this.

Don't apologise.

All of this is so perfect ❤️

If the nursery hadn't been able to get into contact with Alba then child services would definitely have gotten involved and Bambi would have definitely been removed from Alexia's care officially and with official services like that, there's always a chance that she would never actually get Bambi back

Another thing I really liked that you picked up was Alexia's reaction to Alba. She thought she was drunk. You're right, there was no thought of Bambi whatsoever and it's definitely one of those things that just solidifies Alba's need to get Bambi out of there.

You're so right on the physical neglect thing too. Alba has no way of knowing if this is purely emotional or if it's gone into physical aspects like Bambi's food intake or her hygiene. I mentioned it in my post earlier but failure to thrive is actually one of the massive risks of emotional neglect for a number of reasons. The first one, of course, is what was said above about Bambi potentially not being able to eat well but depression can also lead to Bambi not wanting to eat.

Failure to thrive is a massive risk and one that not a lot of people actually think about when discussing emotional neglect and while Alba may not know the official term, these kinds of things definitely run through her mind about Bambi staying at home.

The nursery thing is so true too. A lot of parents that can afford for someone to stay home often see nursery as unneeded or a waste of money but it's actually so key in development.

I think I read a study once about how kids who went to nursery find it easier to form positive relationships with their peers by the time they go to school than those who stayed home. I think that was the gist of it but it was definitely something about nursey educated kids having a bit more of a social advantage than those that didn't.

Bambi is already painfully shy. She's a little sweetheart and nursery could actually be super beneficial for her but she rarely attends and the one time she actually does, she gets forgotten about. It's very easy for kids to make associations between places and the events that take places in them. For Bambi it's:

Nursery = being forgotten = waiting for hours = sad and depressed

Everything you wrote is just so perfect and it gave me another opportunity to blab about child development again ❤️

[nat20potato]

DIALOGUE DRABBLE

Summary: Xenk and Edgin gets separated from the rest of the party while running from trouble, and Edgin sprains his ankle.

Rating: G

Pairings: Mild Edgin Darvis/Xenk Yendar

"I'm fine, I'm fine, stop fussing."

"You are clearly not fine, as evident by the limp that you are unsuccessfully hiding-,"

"Well maybe I'll be able to hide it better if you pick up the pace, we don't know how far back we've lost them and Simon won't be able to hide our tracks for too long-,"

"The currents are strong and the river is deep; were you to slip and fall it will delay our journey all that much further. If you would simply allow me to-,"

"Don't, Xenk, please, you only have so much energy and I need you to keep it until after we meet back up with Holga and Kira and we see how bad her wounds are. I'm sorry for slowing us down but I promise I'm trying, ok?"

"I understand your reticence, but that is not what I was about to offer. Climb on my back."

"...Ex-fucking-scuse me?"

"It is not an offer of intercourse."

"No, I fucking-got that-you want me to climb on your back? While in a river?"

"We are stationed by large enough croppings of stone that provide enough respite of the currents and a boost, should you need it, there is no better station of security in current conditions."

"Xenk, I'm 200 pounds and change bone dry, and I have-have stuff on my own back. My lute."

"My circumstances and training have allowed me strength to carry heavier burdens for longer periods, and it is a practical solution in our dire conditions. Hurry."

"Xenk, you're wearing armor."

"Edgin. Please."

"Shit. Fuck. Fine. Hold my lute. Hold still. Ow. Oh shit that's the ankle-,"

"I apologize-,"

"Don't. Any more and my pride might not survive."

"It is not my intention to wound you or your dignity any further-,"

"I know, I know bud, keep walking, yeah? I appreciate it, I do, but let's keep this to ourselves when we meet up with the others."

"Our hands would not have been forced were I less careless in our previous battle, and I would have had enough energy to heal both you and your daughter-,"

"Don't do that, Xenk, you held off a whole tribe of bandits on your own, saved Simon's life, you can't save everyone."

"I am not well-versed...it has been. A while since I have quested for long periods with company...besides myself."

"See? Not your fault. Wow, you are REALLY not straining at all. Little bit further."

"I would like to apologize; were I quicker to take to travelling with company, with others, perhaps I would be less inclined to selfishness-,"

"Prioritzing your own health and well being in the middle of battle isn't selfishness, Xenk, and we need you at your best anyway, you couldn't have known Kira was gonna be struck down like that. But forgiven, ok? Forgotten. No harm done."

"Some harm had been inflicted."

"Not by you, even indirectly. Besides, if practice travelling with company's the problem, there's an easy solution for that."

"...you would offer me a place in your family? Still, after my mistakes?"

"We've literally just had the conversation about how you didn't do anything wrong, but yeah. Of course. Kira loves you. Always good to have another competent fighter in the bunch. Truth be told we're probably the ones getting the better end of the deal if you do."

"I disagree. The love, care and camaraderie you share between yourselves is a connection found few and far in between, even amongst fellow adventurers. You hide not your affections and love amongst those you take under your wing, Edgin Darvis, and I would be...honored, to be amongst those you have come to accept as kin."

"It's not...that deep. Whatever. Dry land! Thank God. Oh ow. Ow. Ok, you know what-,"

"Perhaps it is more prudent for me to carry you a little bit rest of the way until we find a safer place of rest."

"Great! Good idea-only if you can carry-,"

"It is no trouble; you are lighter than you assume yourself to be."

"Ouch."

"Have I troubled your injury?"

"Only the one on my pride."

"Rest assured I will set you down before we reach our encampment."

"Appreciate it buddy. 'Least that means I'm losing the beer gut."

[totalfknloser]

hey! Could you write something about Zakk dating an autistic girl? I'm an autistic person and I have a huge crush on Zakk and I love your writing so could you do some headcanons about it? I would really be very happy!! (sorry if something is written wrong, I don't speak English and I'm using Google translate 😫)

hiii! okay so i’m not autistic and i wanted to get like.. what it’s like to be autistic so i asked my friend (who’s autistic) about it and they told me about autism so i hope this is accurate to your experience with autism!!

I think that Zakk would honestly not give a shit if someone is autistic and not care for them if they didn’t mean much to them but considering you in this scenario are his lover i think that he would really try!!

also i might’ve written Zakk a little softer because i don’t think anyone is really sure of how he would act in a romantic relationship tbh but even if he isn’t nicer/softer/whatever to people with autism and other things like that i wanted to make him like a little out of character safe space to ppl with neurodivergent disorders for u if that’s what ur looking for cause tbh if he isn’t nicer then what would i write about?? him being normal?? that’s not nice LOL

also if you need me to focus on your experience then please don’t be afraid to tell me what your symptoms and experience is like and what your reactions are so i can write a more personalized version<3

⛧ overstimulation

• harmful stimming

I think if you gave Zakk some direction, he would be a little caught off guard at first but he would get the hang of it. he would try his hardest to distract you, like taking you somewhere else or doing whatever helps you calm down.

• running away

well according to my friend, he says RUN! RUN FOR YOU! because ppl r usually like “u have to be nice to people with autism” but he also says sometimes you need to be a little assertive in like situations like this so i think that Zakk would absolutely chase after your ass lol

• crying, screaming, etc

i think that Zakk would kind of catch onto this quicker than he would with others but if you need distance, he will do it. if you need affection, he will do it. if you need to be somewhere else, he will take you somewhere else.

• distress noises

he would probably understand if the sounds you make sound i guess distressed enough? if they didn’t he would be confused but with some communication he would get it and help u out <33

⛧ communication

• signs and symbols

Zakk would prolly pick up on things like communication cards, hand signs, etc pretty fast!!

• distance/affection

Zakk is totally fine with distance honestly!! i think he would be perfectly cool with affection as well!!! i believe that Zakk would leave you alone physically unless you asked him to be there with you!!

shut downs/melt downs (yes i’m aware they are not the same i’m just bunching them together lol)

• nonverbal

Zakk would be confused but if you can communicate with cards or symbols then he would get it pretty quickly. i think that if you didn’t communicate at all he would probably just leave you alone but keep an eye on you.

• needing rest/space

as i said, Zakk is cool with distance!

• needing touch

if you touched Zakk in a more affectionate way (like a hug, etc) he would understand but not touch you like full on (not sexually i just mean on full cuddles) unless you gave him a signal that that’s what you want. if you asked him, he would still understand and tend to your needs in both scenarios <3

⛧ general autism stuff

• social battery

i think that Zakk would have a pretty good experience with things similar to a social battery so he would pick up the signs and leave you be!!

• fidgets

Zakk would get it. i just feel like he would. I think that Zakk would prolly fidget with things himself but i mean more like his jewelry, hair, skin, etc (no i’m definitely not projecting!!/sarc) i think that if you really asked him to he would go out and get u some LOL

• special interests

I think he would be confused on why you’re so fixated on something but over time with being educated how autism works then that confusion level would go down.

• happy stims/just stims in general

Zakk would be confused!! i stim myself (i’m neurodivergent but i’m not autistic) and i think that Zakk would never really understand it lol but he wouldn’t judge u bc he loves u

• headphones/something noise cancelling

if it really helped you and you couldn’t get it on your own, Zakk would get some for you tbh!!

[9r7g5h]

The Only Acceptable Miscommunication Trope

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Boku no Hero Academia 

Rating: T

Genre: Humor

Summary: When Katsuki opened his locker, he had expected three things - his water bottle, his towel, and the change of clothes he had brought so he wouldn’t have to wear the soaked gym outfit back to the dorms.

He hadn’t expected the bright pink letter, signed and sealed with a heart shaped sticker.

Words: 2,766

When Katsuki opened his locker, he had expected three things - his water bottle, his towel, and the change of clothes he had brought so he wouldn’t have to wear the soaked gym outfit back to the dorms. That was what he had put in the locker when Shitty Hair and Dunce Face had dragged him out this morning to train, so it made a passing bit of sense for him to expect the same.

He hadn’t expected the bright pink letter, signed and sealed with a heart shaped sticker, his name written in, admittedly, beautiful calligraphy on the front. He hadn’t even noticed it at first, the letter flopping to the ground as he pulled the towel free, too caught up in his argument to pay attention. It wasn’t like he did this kind of shit anyway, so if he had been the one to notice it first, most likely it would have still ended up on the ground, just this time in the form of ashes instead of whole.

Sadly, it was Kaminari who made the discovery first, his shit eating grin more than enough to justify the dodged blast Katsuki sent his way.

“Whoa, is that a love letter? Someone’s actually got the guts to try and confess to our Blasty here?” He swooped in, a well placed jolt enough to make Katsuki jump so he could swipe it from the ground. He held it high enough so Kirishima could see, wiping away a fake tear. “I’m so proud, our boy might finally get laid.”

“Like you can talk, dipshit.” It didn’t take much to get the letter back, Kirishima just laughing as he watched Kaminari wipe the soot from his face. “We all know you’re as close to getting your dick wet as the grape is; at least I’m not as pathetic as you two are.” A sheepish grin his only response, Katsuki just rolled his eyes and crumpled the letter in his hand, sparks playing across his free palm. The quicker he burned this, the quicker he could get back to cleaning up and get back to the dorm, leaving this nonsense behind.

“Whoa, Bakubro, what the heck! You’re not even gonna read it? Not manly, dude.” Again, he found the letter in someone else’s grasp, this time his explosion ineffective as Kirishima just quirked up, his skin as hard as his frown as he held the letter safely behind his back. His growl ignored, Kirishima carefully flattened the letter, using his hardened fingers to try and smooth out as much of the damage as he could. “You should at least see who it’s from and give them an answer, bro. It’s only right.”

“If the extra knew me at all, they’d know this was coming. I don’t do this kind of shit.”

Because he was too busy training or studying and thus had literally no time for a relationship; because he would only date the best and there was no way in hell anyway so gutless they had to resort to some anonymous letter would ever measure up; because he had to spend his precious free time keeping that damn nerd alive and figuring out his quirk (and if that was just an excuse to stay close, to slightly soothe the ache in his chest that was his own damn fault, well, fuck off); take your pick. Katsuki Bakugou didn’t do this kind of shit, all for good reasons.

All the reasons Kirishima, as the only person in this damn school that had managed to wiggle his way in and force down his defenses that wasn't too bright and green to look at on a regular basis, knew and knew well. Entertaining that love letter would do no one any good, and if he was just helping some poor extra get over him and move on without having to deal with a dozen awkward confessions a week? Bonus points.

“You never know, Bakubro,” Kaminari joined, throwing an arm over Katsuki’s shoulders, “your current plan of never addressing anything and just exploding it doesn’t seem to be working. Maybe doing an actual meet-and-greet will let you tell them you’re not interested, and the word will spread. People can only stay interested in someone emotionally unavailable for so long before they get bored and move on. Well, most people.” He dodged the half-hearted swat, laughing easily. “Trying it once can’t hurt!”

And maybe occasionally, when the fates collided and his two brain cells rubbed together, Kaminari actually had a good idea, because he knew how the rumor mill worked. Mina was one of the core members, as much as he hated that shit, and if it got around that this crap wouldn’t work on him...

“Fine,” Katsuki spat. “Give me the damn letter. But don’t expect me to be polite to the extra face to face. The fact that I’m even looking at this is good enough.” The others didn’t argue, knowing if they did it would only distract the blonde from tearing apart the envelope. Together the three crowded together, skimming the crinkled letter to see who it was trying to catch Katsuki’s eye.

I would like to confess to you in person, like a hero should. Please meet me at the grove of trees near the eastern open training ground, the one closest to the gates, today at four. I’ll be waiting.

~D

As one the trio looked towards the clock that hung over the locker room doors, glancing between themselves with the knowledge that, were Katsuki to do this, he only had fifteen minutes to wait. They all knew which grove the letter meant - it was a public, popular enough confession spot, the shade and perpetual cool breeze making it perfect for waiting for people. Almost always had some sort of eyes on it, waiting for someone to say something and start up the gossip.

Perfect.

Katsuki tossed his shit back into his locker, ignoring the surprised yelps from the peanut gallery as he turned on his heels towards the door. Kirishima hardened just in time to take another well aimed blast, the force just enough to push him out of the way of the door.

"Whoa, wait, you're going like that? You aren't even going to, you know, wipe down and change? Kiri and me went pretty hard on you, and-"

"As if, idiots," Katsuki snorted, like the idea his friends had actually been a challenge was amusing. Even if the soaked gym clothes told a different story. With Kirishima to hold him off and Kaminari to shoot long range attacks, they were a pretty effective team. "The letter was in my damn gym locker, while I was training, with no guarantee that I would see it before the meeting time passed. This extra wants to do this, they're getting me like this. Maybe they'll actually think next time."

With twin shrugs the other two just followed, the three quickly making their way through the school. Thankfully there weren't many people to push their way through, the school day long since done, allowing them to make it well within the time allotted. Though as they reached the front door, instead of continuing on his path like he had intended, Katsuki instead glanced out the large window and froze, grabbing his two idiots to keep them from going on without him.

It only took a moment for them to follow his line of sight.

"Is that-"

"Dude, no way-"

"Both of you, shut up!"

Because of course. Of course it was fucking Deku, standing calmly beneath the trees as he played with his phone.

And the little shit nerd actually looked good for once. It was a well known fact that Izuku was, physically, probably one of the prettiest people on campus, and Katsuki would fight anyone who said otherwise. But his clothes left a lot to be desired; they were childish at best, tacky as shit at worst. But right now he looked good, actually looked like the proper almost adults they were, and it did things to Katsuki's heart and stomach and made him immediately regret coming as he was, his ratty gym clothes drying to his skin and the glycerin in his sweat that normally made him smell slightly sweet unable to cover the stink of exercised teenage boy.

"Is that..." Kaminari squinted his eyes for a moment, only to whistle as he turned back towards Katsuki. "He's even got some makeup and everything. Looks better then my get up too. He really wanted to look good for you, bro."

"Course he did," Katsuki snapped back, no heat in his reply. "Nerd never does anything in halves. Fuck, Kiri, I..."

Already his best friend was there, a steadying hand on his shoulder. It had taken Kiri forever to squirm his way in through Katsuki's defenses, but he'd long since earned the right to a good deal of Katsuki's secrets. Most of them concerning feelings and emotions and the shit he was bad at, and the rest concerning the boy standing under the trees outside. "You don't have to," Kirishima said slowly, "but this is your chance, Bakugou. That letter was pretty clear, so even if you decide not to, you at least know where you both stand and can do something later. But it must have taken a lot of nerves for him to be manly enough to write it out and follow through, so it might be nice if you met him on his timeline for once instead of yours."

Katsuki took a long, deep breath and held it, nodding as he slowly released the air from his lungs. Shitty Hair was always right, damn it, and even if a part of him wanted to run and hide and pretend he had never seen that stupid note, he wasn't going to. No, he was going to ignore the fact that he was a gross, sweaty, stinking post-workout mess and go give Deku the best acceptance of a love letter to ever be seen in the history of romance.

Because he was Katsuki Bakugou, damn it, and he was the best.

Izuku couldn't wait for the others to get there. He knew he was early, but when Iida had informed him that he had made dinner reservations to celebrate their group's two year "friend-iversary," he had been touched. Kacchan had been the only person he could have theoretically had something like a friend-iversary with, but the other boy was too disgusted with anything sappy and sentiment to think that was a good idea. Even though they had repaired their friendship from their falling out in middle school, he knew bringing up something like that would more than likely get him an explosion to the face, not a fancy dinner at some restaurant people were raving about.

So he hadn't even been insulted when Tsu, Ochako, and Todoroki had invaded his dorm, gone through his closet, and picked out his clothes, supplementing whatever he didn't have with things Todoroki brought with him that, with enough tucking and adjusting, just managed to fit. He'd even let Mina doll him up some, even if the goop on his face felt weird and his eyes felt tired, like he was ready for a nap. For sure not something he would do all the time, it was all too uncomfortable, but for a night out with his friends to celebrate something so special, he was willing to do it. Now he was just waiting, a couple minutes early, playing on his phone until his friends got there.

"Oi, Deku!"

For a moment Izuku was startled - had Kacchan been invited as well and no one had told him? Looking him over, though, it was clear the other boy was nowhere near restaurant ready; he probably needed something else. Sliding his phone into his pocket, Izuku smiled at his friend.

"Hey, Kacc-"

One hand on his hip, the other in his hair, fingers threading through curls to tug his face up towards Kacchan's, his back pressed hard against the tree he had been leaning against - Izuku had no clue what was going on, only that his greeting was cut off by Kacchan's lips meeting his own. He didn't know what to do with his mouth, his hands, his tongue, but it didn't seem to matter as Katsuki took and kept control of this surprise confession, pressing against the seam of his lips until Izuku allowed him entrance, awkwardly rubbing against each other in a perfect way that made them both groan.

And all too soon it was over, Kacchan pulling away, his gaze bleary as he licked some spit from his bottom lip. He slowly, almost reluctantly took his hands away, the one in his hair playing with a few curls first before losing complete contact, leaving the two of them just standing there, breathless, staring.

"Kacchan, wh-"

"If we're doing this, nerd, we're doing this right," Kacchan cut him off again, forcing some level of bravado into his voice, ignoring the still glazed look in his eyes. "Friday, I'll pick you up from your dorm at six. Don't be late or I'll blow up some of your merch." No real threat, the words almost teasing, as if the destruction of property was expected. All Izuku could do was nod, his lips brushing against the fingers he hadn't realized he had raised to touch his mouth.

"Yeah," he said, voice hoarse. Izuku swallowed, shook his head, and smiled. "Yeah, I'd like that, Kacchan. I'll see you at six."

His smile real, nothing like the cocky smirk he normally wore, Kacchan turned away and ran back towards the front doors of the school. Where, if Izuku was seeing properly, Kaminari and Kirishima were jumping around in front of the giant windows that flanked the doors, yelling at and hugging each other, at least until Kacchan rejoined them, his smile not changing as he yelled at them. Whatever he said didn't seem to phase them as the two jumped on him, laughing as he was buried under the group hug.

His face red, idly wondering if perhaps one of the former holders of One for All had a blushing quirk, Izuku pulled back out his phone to send a text to his friends. They would be here any minute now, and he could always tell them in person, but better to get it out now before someone in the gossip chain got it out first. Ochako would kill him if she heard second hand.

Why Kacchan decided to do it in such a public place, well known for being watched, he'd never know.

I think I have a boyfriend now?

*~*

Standing on the second floor of the building, first year support student Dairoji sobbed as his friends comforted him. They had all told him it was a bad idea, that the upperclassman Bakugou had never responded to a love confession before, but Dairoji had insisted it would be different.

"He called me 'D'," Dairoji had said happily, sealing the letter. "You only give nicknames to people you like! He'll respond to me, I just know it."

Of course, Dairoji had ignored the fact that the rest of them had been "Extras" A, B, and C, and the 'D' Dairoji had been so fixated on had just been a coincidence. It had taken everything they could to convince him to wait on the second floor, to make sure he actually showed up before waiting outside for who knows how long.

A good idea, they all agreed, as they comforted their sobbing friend.

"I never would have given him that letter if I knew he had a boyfriend," Dairoji sobbed. "I'm so embarrassed! What if he looks at me and thinks I'm a pervert who goes after taken men? I'll never get to work with heroes again, and I'll never get into an agency and my equipment will rust and I'll have to start making toys for kids and I don't even like kids and-"

"Remember when we told you Bakugou's never responded to a love confession," one of his friends cut in, trying to head off the spiral before it sunk any lower. "Rumor has it he just burns them, or throws them away. Now we know why. He probably never even saw it, and he'll never know it was you, ok?"

Blinking away the tears of a broken heart and embarrassment, Dairoji looked up at his group, hope slightly lifting his spirits.

"You really think so?"

"Of course, Dairoji. The letter is in ashes, I promise."

[END]

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[straykidsreactionsandscenarios]

Post Date: 23rd October 2022 Content: Smut Word Count: 679 TW?: Breath Play/ Choking/ Teasing/ Penetration/ Experimental/ Daddy  ~

Kinktober Masterlist                                     Prompt List If you like my stuff and wanna tip, just buy me a coffee!

It’s not like it was the first time that you’ve had sex, and not that you could complain when you did, Seungmin knew how to please you and reach all of your needs with exceeding expectations. It was just that there was room to experiment, and you were going to try your luck with him the minute things got heated.

“Fuck-” Seungmin moans against your lips as he gently thrusts into you, making sure that you felt everything of him, the way his shaft moved in and out of you.

A whimper falls from your lips as his hips gently meet the back of your thighs as he had your legs over your shoulder, a new position for you both that he’d shyly requested originally but now seems to be a new favourite. 

The way he filled you up in this position made your mind race with so many thoughts until it goes blank and stars appear in your eyes, trying to snap yourself out of it before you come quicker than you wanted to.

“Shit-” you hiss the minute his tip touches the top of your walls, tightening around him as he whimpers, “Keep doing that and I’ll cum so soon”.

Your eyes meet when gazing at this face as it screws in satisfaction to your wet walls tightly pulsating around him, and now was the time to ask him to try something new, you thought. 

“Minnie-” you whimper as his hips mould against your skin, you barely get a response but the faint “mhm” was loud enough for you to continue if you managed to focus on finding the words.

“Choke me,” the words fell off your tongue a bit too effortlessly for your liking as his eyes widen, and you hope you didn’t just put him off.

“Choke- Choke you?” He asks, still keeping his pace as you grasp at the sheets under you, “Please,” you whimper in response as you could tell he was considering it.

To your surprise, he wasn’t going to protest as his warm and clammy hands spread around your throat, fingers tightening at the edges. You lose your breath momentarily before he loosens up his grip, satisfied at your reaction when your eyes roll back and a loud moan escapes your lips, gasping for more air the minute you could.

You felt your stomach tighten at the satisfaction, needing more, you grab his wrist, pressing it more against your neck gently as he gets the hint, picking up his pace for the time that his grip was tighter, slowing back down when he lets you breathe once again.

“This is going to be fun,” he teases, groaning at the way you tighten around him once again, your moans like music when you’re able to breathe to let them out, especially with the way that you whimpered his name.

It was at that moment when Seungmin realised that he could get used to this, use this to his advantage and you were in for such a surprise as his demeanour switches up so quickly.

“Look at you, turning into a little whore for me,” he whispers against your lips, his breath smelt so good as you breathed it in, seconds before gasping for air when he restricts you of it once again.

However this time, he wasn’t going to pace himself, the way he switched made you crumble, not expecting it from him but you were enjoying it so much, and probably a little too much as you felt the knot start to tighten.

“Fuck- Daddy-” you cry out unintentionally, as Seungmin just smiles at your pathetic little state under him, “Daddy, huh? Oh that’s something that’s definitely going to make me cum so much quicker,” he snarls, tightening his grip once again.

The minute the grip tightens around your throat for the last time, your orgasm explodes through you, your mind and vision going blank as his hips slam against your skin, stinging it as you breathlessly let out a scream, legs tightening as he fucks you roughly through your high. 

[liberacesghost]

Day 6 -- Person A Knows Person B's Coffee Order

let's try that again! just wanna shout out @doctorsteths-fluffyfeb again, because i'm having a good time writing, but also having a good time reading. so if you're all not on that shit, get into it!!

warnings: cussing cause i literally cannot; mentions of them on a case but nothing graphic

pairing: hotch x reader sorta (use of y/n) they're not actually together and they don't actually get together, but you'll see

word count: 769

a/n: i know how super late i am pls forgive me <33

Coffee was the lifeblood of the BAU. The driving force that kept them going the long hours they had to work. The sweet nectar that fueled their bodies and minds.

And this coffee at the tiny mid-western precinct they were currently at fucking sucked. And that was putting it mildly. 

“I can’t do this. It’s been days and I need decent coffee in my system”, you say standing up. “I need a break anyway.”

The case was going…slow. Well, more accurately the team’s progress was going slow. The unsub was decidedly not slow. He was leaving a trail of bodies quicker than you could process the evidence. And yet, you were no closer to actually catching him. 

Frustrated by not only the lack of breaks in the case, but the added insult of shitty coffee was almost unbearable. 

“I’ll make a quick run - let me know what you all want”, you say to the room at large as you put on your coat, which includes Rossi, Derek, Spencer, and Emily. 

After getting their drinks all written down, you head to ask Hotch and JJ. You find them in an office that’s being repurposed for the BAU’s benefit. 

“Hey guys”, you say hanging onto the doorframe. “I’m going on a coffee run. Do you want anything?”

“Oh, tea would be amazing, thanks”, JJ says with a smile. 

Hotch nods and opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, you cut him off pointing a finger at him, “A large black coffee, no cream, 1 sugar. I know.” Then you’re out of the door before Hotch can do much more than nod again, quite uselessly. 

He’s staring into the space you just were, mouth slightly open. He didn’t think anybody paid attention to his usual order. He didn’t think you paid attention. He’d be an absolute liar if he said his heart didn’t clench almost painfully in his chest. The thought of someone listening and picking up on what he likes – well, not just somebody, but you. It’s enough to keep him from doing anything useful for a lot longer than he’d like to admit. Hoping beyond hope that his cheeks were not pinkening. 

It’s not until JJ pointedly coughs that Aaron is snapped out of it, head jerking towards the blonde. She gives him a knowing smirk, before going back to the notepad in front of her. Purposefully (and very professionally) not mentioning the coloring occurring on his face and his ears. 

Some time later, JJ has moved back to the conference room leaving Hotch alone in “his” office to scribble away at the endless reports. 

Lost in the writing and rewriting he’s felt he’s been constantly doing since he got here, he doesn’t hear footsteps approaching. It’s not until he hears the soft thud of the cardboard coffee cup on his desk, that he stops. He looks up to see you looking at him with a soft, almost shy smile. 

He looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

Your timid smile. The way your eyes meet his before quickly flitting away. Teeth worrying your bottom lip. 

How he never saw it before is absolutely beyond him.

“Here you go, boss”, you say softly. 

You both just stare at each other, restrained smiles on your faces. 

The seconds turn into minutes, before you shake your head as if you’re clearing your thoughts away like an etch-a-sketch. “I also got some snacks if you’d like”, thumb pointing over your shoulder. “They’re in the conference room.”

Aaron is too stunned to say or do anything. This sudden realization that maybe, just maybe, you could feel the same way as him is overwhelming. 

When he doesn’t respond, you give him a jerky nod of your head before turning around and making your way out the room. 

Hotch says your name so softly, you turn around quickly, almost in alarm. 

Remembering that they’re on an active case and he’s still the goddamn unit chief, he catches himself before he says something incredibly telling. 

“Thank you”, he says instead. 

You look at him, brows furrowing for a brief second, eyes roaming his face and posture for something. Something he left unsaid, something he was going to say, something you wanted him to say – you weren’t sure. So you simply look him in the eyes, a small almost smirk on your face, and give him a nod before making your way back to the conference room. Leaving Hotch in his makeshift office alone with the coffee you got him, the swirling thoughts inside his head, and the ache in his chest.

[proceduralpassion]

Unwritten

Day 4 of Narcoctober- Anything involving a fistfight or gunfight.

Characters: Horacio Carrillo x OC (Kiara Nash), Javier Peña, Steve Murphy

WC: ~1K

A/N: What it do homies? Created an AU of my IWBSS where Kiara is a DEA agent. Not related to the timeline of the IWBSS at all, but similar theme of being missing? Remember that spelling and grammar errors add character and enjoy!

Horacio spent the whole night tossing and turning. Very much unlike him. In fact, he hated it. Even when he felt restless, he’d simply just lay there and stare at the ceiling. But there’s something different in the air right now. He considers for a moment and surmises that this is the most on edge he’s ever felt. And he can’t explain why. 

There was too much going on and everything was going to shit. Every avenue of operations was overly chaotic and so he was unable to gauge where his source of unease arose from. His mind veered to Kiara. 

What they had was new but realer than any relationship he’d ever had with a woman. Perhaps love? He was reticent to declare their liaison as such, but no other word quite fit. The thing is that this was such a new dynamic for both of them. Going from coworkers to in a relationship hadn’t needed much adjustment as of yet. They were both the utmost professional at work and too engrossed in the hunt for taking down the major figures upholding the Medellin cartel. There was no room for any conflict to take place, even if there were any. 

Still, his mind bends to Kiara and he tries to douse away the fact that the lurch in his stomach grows when he thinks of her. 

She was spooked earlier on the raid, which is saying something since she’s always even more stone-faced than her DEA counterparts. When he asks about it in a brief moment of privacy, she denies there being anything wrong. He knows her well enough to know that’s a lie, but Trujillo interrupts with urgent intel before he can prod. In a last glance at her as he’s walking away, he catches her staring dead in the face at one of the cartel runners they were able to snag in the raid.

He could call her right now. 

But he’s not sure what he’ll say when she answers. 

He looks over to his clock and figures she’s more than likely asleep. It’s added to the column of reasons why not to call her just because. But he still wrestles between picking up the phone and dialing her number. 

It’s what keeps him tossing and turning until he’s finally out of bed.

Something’s wrong. It’s the itch in your brain when you know you’ve forgotten something before leaving the house, but can’t for the life of you figure out what it is.

He doesn’t know what or how, but he won’t rest until he knows that his instincts have been confirmed.  

Kiara’s place is only fifteen minutes from his and the roads at 2 a.m. are barren, getting him to his destination even quicker. 

Something’s off immediately. Her door is not only unlocked but slightly cracked. His knock opens it further and his hand is on his holster instantaneously. His stance adapts from a slightly concerned love interest to an esteemed colonel in the Colombia National Police. 

His steps are light and he holds his breath, willing away any sounds that distract from listening in for an intruder. He sees movement from the corner of his eye and immediately blocks the strike that’s garnered against him. The force of the strike and slight surprise allows him to drop his gun, but his reflexes have him obstructing any further hits. He immediately jumps to offense, delivering powerful blows to his opponent in the dark. His fists are merciless, already fracturing bones in the man's face. The sounds of the cracks flowing in the air only encourage him farther.

Glass shatters as he pushes the masked man into the end table and mirror near the hall adjacent to the entry. The man grabs a shard of glass that rests on the table and Horacio just barely dodges being slashed in the face. He’s maneuvering himself out of the way and finds himself pushed back to the couch. From the nights he’s stayed over, he knows that Kiara keeps a bat between the cushions of the vintage blue upholstery. 

Without much digging, he’s able to pull it out and starts swinging artfully. Thwacks and snaps fill the air as the blows rain down on the masked man. He’s long dead before Carrillo spies movement near the front door.

Steve turns on the light and Javi lowers his weapon with a “Shit!” 

He just narrowly avoided being bludgeoned with the wooden weapon had Steve not illuminated the room. They could see him finishing the now dead perpetrator as they crept towards the front door but Horacio had not been able to discern whether they were friendlies or more enemies against the backdrop of the dark Medellin sky. 

Javi exclaims, catching his breath, “How the fuck did you get here so fast? You didn’t even pick up your phone!”

Steve traipses over to needlessly check the dead perp’s pulse while Horacio is too busy looking around to make sure the rest of the place is clear. 

The expression he wears is colored with confusion, with not only what the fuck just happened but also what Peña was talking about. Steve notices, but only raises an eyebrow. Javi is too impatient to wait for an actual answer and just fills him in with what they know.

“We were listening to the tapes tonight. We think one of those fuckers made Kiara from the undercover ops in Cali. There was talk over the wire about the raid earlier and one of the guys that got away mentioned her.” 

Horacio hears the words but they’re muffled and only barely registered because he’s still looking through Kiara’s home. There’s evidence of a struggle, turned over furniture and blood spatter. But no Kiara.

Javi’s still talking as they’re all walking throughout the place now. 

“They didn’t say her name, but the description was spot on. We called her but no answer so we rushed over. Tried to call you, too.”

Her place isn’t a large one, so it doesn’t take long before they’re all meeting back up in the living room.

No sign of any other malefactors, but Kiara is also nowhere to be found.

Horacio feels like he could drown. That lurch in his stomach earlier was nothing compared to the nauseousness he was feeling now.

He looks to Javi and Steve whose expressions have darkened with the gravity of their current circumstances.

“Where is she?”

A/N: Not a cliffie! Click here if you wanna be added to my taglist! Taglist: @asirensrage @narcosfandomdiscord @supersanelyromantic @mysun-n-stars @drabbles-mc @ashlingnarcos

[nug-chuohku]

Reflection of Your Image - EB VS SZ Drama Track 

Part 3

~ Clashing Skulls ~

【 Outside Chuohku City Hotel 】

Ryuko: "-FUCKER!"

Balling his fists, the animator prepared to strike back at the incoming punch from the purple and green haired man. Before the two could collide however, their respective teammates clung to their limbs and clothes, pulling them apart.

Maki: “Ryuko, this is no place to raise your fists!”

Yano: “Y-Yeah Asato, what tall-ass said!”

While Ryuko seemed to struggle and writhe in the arms of his older brother, Asato was much quicker to calm down. Although his eyes conveyed a rage that neither Yano or Kensaku had seen, Asato appeared much more unbothered than the yakuza who wanted nothing more than to cave in the farmer’s face. The young man uncharacteristically brushed off his teammates as they loosened their grips, so Asato could stare at his raging rival.

Asato: “...You want a fight?”

Both ECO BooN men looked surprised at their leader as he pulled his hypnosis microphone out from the satchel that hung from his belt and held it out.

Asato: “Fight me. Use your words. Prove that you’re not a coward.”

Instantly those words it set off the white haired man as he miraculously snapped out of his giant brother's grasp and whipped out his own microphone. With a snarl Ryuko shouted out.

Ryuko: “I’ll show you who’s the real coward!”

Maki: “Ryuko, stop that this-”

Shuu: “Let him go sensei.”

The smaller man grasped onto Maki’s sleeve with a surprising amount of strength. Despite how much the professor wanted to protest, the detective pointed out an important detail in a disappointed sigh. A short ways away, the other team leaders, Hisoka and Nobuo seemed to be preparing to duke it out with their microphones and speakers materializing behind each of them.

Shuu: “Look, all the team leaders seem to have a need to blow off some steam. Just let them at it, m’kay?”

Solemnly, Maki nodded. At least they were choosing to use their microphones to settle their disagreements… But would there be consequences for the fight, he wondered.

Asato:

Yet again here you are, all bark no bite

Couldn’t do your damn job so you start a fight

So come on, here’s your chance

Quit that shit, get in stance

Use your mic to prove your worth

So I can plant you in the earth

Make use of that oxygen you’re always wasting

Come on Ryuko, don’t keep me waiting

Unprepared for the verse, Ryuko staggers back. As he’s forced onto one knee, he can only grit and bear as Asato continues his relentless attack.

Asato:

Don’t die on me now, we just got started

Not the first time you’ve been bombarded

You’re just a aphid in my field

Nothing more than a weed

So give up on your dreams, you aren’t winning this battle

Ryuko: “Rrrgh… Shut up, shut up, sHUT UP!”

Ryuko:

Think again you piece of shit

It’s you who will submit

Gonna to wipe that look off your face

When I trample you, erased

Nobody will ever know your name

Just some farmer with no game

Who do you think you are getting picked for the stage

Get back to Toyama and stay in that cage

Silently, Asato seemed to grit the lyrics coming at him. No comment, no expression. His blank face simply glaring at Ryuko who doubled into his lyrics.

Ryuko: “You want some more, huh?!”

Ryuko:

A cage? How about a grave?

It’s what you get for acting brave

My temper might be a pain in the ass

But it’s the thing that proves that you’re outclassed-

Ichijiku: “Enough!”

Cutting through the courtyard, all the hypnosis microphones seemed to snap off and dissipate when a woman’s voice roared through the temporary battlefield. All the men snapped their heads in the direction of two women standing at the entrance of the hotel, the taller one with a pink ponytail appearing as the source of the shouting.

Ichijiku: “Nothing but barbarians… Officer Ietsuna. Take care of the ECO BooN and Sazanka Zombeez leaders. I'll handle the other two teams.”

Riyeko: “Yes ma’am!”

Following Ichijiku’s instructions, the brunette stalked over to the two teams she was ordered to confront with a small crew of uniformed women behind her. At the sight of the women approaching, Ryuko was quick to threaten with violence, now that he had his weapon strangely nullified.

Ryuko: “Huh? You want to fucking go? I’ll fucking beat your ass once I’m done-”

Riyeko: “No you fucking aren’t! Shut up for one second, you prick!”

Not expecting that response from an officer, Ryuko was effectively silenced. The shorter brunette officer then led herself and a small group of female officers over to the two quarreling groups. Her amber hues pierced through each member, before settling on the two leaders with their now nullified hypnosis microphones.

Riyeko: “Fucking morons the both of you.”

Ryuko: “What did you-?!”

Riyeko: “This is expected of you, Ryuko Umemoto. Kadenokoji-san warned us that your were the most likely to start throwing punches.”

Ryuko: “H…How do you…?”

The Zombeez appeared shocked that this woman regarded their leader so casually. None of them expected the casual, vulgar tone from an officer, especially towards their leader who looked completely flabbergasted by the situation.

Riyeko: “However, we are disappointed in you Asato Rikiya. We were hoping your typical demeanor would prevent you from acting irrationally, but you have surprised us.”

Her gaze drifted to her brother.

Riyeko: “Right, Yano?”

Yano: “Y-Yes ma’am.”

The response earned a strange look from Kensaku pointed at Yano, but he kept silent as Riyeko continued on.

Riyeko: “I’m trusting you boys will accept this act of mercy from Kadenokoji-san. Do this again and you may not be so lucky. Got it?”

It was brief, but straightforward. A warning to the two teams to stay out of trouble until the competition started. Once the two teams had nodded with shame, Riyeko seemed to sneer at their submission (something not missed by the ticked off Ryuko) and sauntered back to the rejoin with Kadenokoji’s team.

Maki: “To think a woman like Ichijiku Kadenokoji would be the one to stop us…”

Shuu (mumbling): “Ramu-chan was right, they do have a canceller. And say...Isn’t the pretty pink lady a person of interest?”

Maki: “Sorry? What did you say?”

Shuu: “Oh, nothing! We can talk about it later. For now…”

Grabbing his team mates, Shuu smiled at the two Umemoto brothers.

Shuu: “We should go! Right?”

Maki: “Indeed.”

Shrugging Shuu off, Ryuko let out a soft growl before looking at Asato.

Ryuko: “Tomorrow you’re going to lose, farmer brat. Say your goodbyes to your family, hm?”

Asato didn’t bother to respond, only glowering at Ryuko with a nod. With that, Ryuko scoffed at the purple haired man and walked away.

Kensaku: “So, that was the yakuza guy who harassed your family?”

Yano: “Yeah, that was the guy. I only saw him a couple times when I was visiting his house years ago. Grandma Rikiya really pissed him off everytime they came around.”

Kensaku: “Heheh, sounds like her… Say, Yano? Do you know that officer?”

Yano: “Huh? Oh! U-Uh it’s uh… Compli-Whatever! I’m tired, let’s go already!”

Kensaku: “Well, that was a weird response. Whatever, come on Asato-kun.”

Asato: “...yeah.”

Asato paused for a moment, watching as each team dispersed from the courtyard and into the hotel. Ryuko, seething in rage. Hisoka, pale as a sheet and trembling. And finally Nobuo. Unlike the others, he seemed unaffected by the conflict and in fact, more confident than ever. Looking down at his own boots, Asato wondered:

Asato: "What should I be feeling right now?"

The End

To be continued in EB V.S. SZ DRB Drama Track 2…

[mobscene-london]

BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: Emre Avşar. AGE: 36. PLACE OF BIRTH: İstanbul, Türkiye. AFFILIATION: The Haringey Resistance. OCCUPATION: Second in Command. FACE CLAIM: Kerem Bürsin. AVAILABILITY: OPEN.

BIOGRAPHY:

İstanbul truly was a spectacle.

Tourists gathered in droves to appreciate an architectural and cultural marvel unlike any other. It was a place of history, and art, and religion, and was not remotely unwarranted in its pride for it all. But whilst it would be a lie to say he didn’t miss home, Emre knew that the city he’d seen was very different to the one reserved for outsiders. For him, the beauty had always been overshadowed by a particularly dark underbelly that he’d been caught up in long before he was mature enough to understand the decisions he was making.

And that was precisely why people like him were targeted.

They never approached the well-off, educated kids from families who actually gave a shit. The petty gangs roaming the back alleys of the city’s less savoury neighbourhoods sought out the weak and vulnerable because it was so much easier to manipulate somebody who was desperate. Back then, Emre had been exactly that. After his parents divorced when he was four years old, his mother, unable to afford caring for a child alone, offloaded her son onto some shady orphanage in Gaziosmanpaşa like he’d meant nothing to her at all.

Emre’s life in Türkiye from that point forward was, with the exception of meeting her, a consistent downward spiral. Being targeted by one of the local gangs seemed more of an eventuality than an unfortunate accident. They liked to pick up the little kids and force them to go begging in the tourist areas. Foreign bleeding hearts were a lot quicker to offer up their hard earned cash to innocent kids who were beaten, bruised, and looked like they needed a meal; all courtesy of those earning on their behalf, of course. They had to make it seem convincing.

At the end of the day, they’d take the money back to whoever was assigned to their area with the hopes of a hot meal and a few coins instead of another beating. Emre usually wasn’t so lucky. Whilst he didn’t have a talent for begging, though, Zehra sure did. Much like him, she’d had an unfortunate start in life that’d landed her in a similarly desperate scenario. With her big doe eyes and pretty features, it was no surprise that she gathered everyone’s attention with ease. His included.

They weren’t supposed to make friends. Maybe because when children got together, they started having fucking ideas. To keep them apart was impossible, though. From their very first hello, Emre had been wholly devoted to her, and as the years passed, their friendship only grew stronger. The streets of İstanbul were dangerous, but he vowed they would never be for her again so long as he was around to protect her. It was a promise that came to a particularly nasty head when the gang they worked for decided to deliver her one of their infamous beatings. Zehra was such a high earner that it became expected. After a poor day where she’d barely scraped together more than him, they’d punished her for it. Emre had relieved some kid of the knife earlier that day. The asshole responsible had seen the sharp end of it with little remorse.

It’d been his first kill. Emre had been twelve years old.

Whilst he might’ve been brave enough to serve the justice, he hadn’t paid much thought (nor did he care) about the consequences that might follow. The idea of them murdering him and Zehra being left alone was his only concern, but it seemed the gang had other plans. Finding little beggars was easy. Finding someone who’d take a life, on the other hand? Not so much. Emre was only punished for what he did to scare him into agreeing to do it again. And he did. Because what other choice did he have?

They used the orphan kids because nobody would miss them if they were gone. Nobody would care if they got hurt instead of someone who mattered. So that was how Emre earned his keep, and to their credit, he got paid a hell of a lot more for bloodying his hands than holding them out. It was enough to look after both himself and Zehra relatively well. When she became too old to earn through pity, Emre had proven useful enough to make demands. If they wanted to keep him around—and he was too damn good at what he did for them to turn it down—they’d let her go. They’d tried to scare him, but he wouldn’t budge.

So eventually they did.

Life continued this way until his late teens. Emre had learned the gang was smuggling people to the UK with fake German passports and papers to attend to their heroin trade. The buy in was insanely expensive, but there was little he wouldn’t pay for a better life. Of course, his price was lessened because he could earn them even more abroad than he did in İstanbul, but they sure took advantage of knowing he’d never leave Zehra behind. They’d bled him dry to pay for her passage; triple the amount it would have cost anybody else. They burdened him with the most dangerous jobs, the most brutal workloads, and drew out his time in the city for as long as possible until eventually, Emre had managed it.

They made it to London just after Zehra’s eighteenth birthday.

Life would never be perfect for someone like him, but it sure got better after that.

They were set up in a shitty two-bedroom flat they had to share with six others, but like always, Emre was there to look out for her until they could do better. Haringey wasn’t exactly an ideal spot, but it was sure better than any of the places he’d spent his childhood, and almost immediately, he was set to work with the gang that operated in the area. His connection? Mehmet Demir.

Perhaps the most striking difference between İstanbul and London came in the way he was treated. It became clear that this time his talents were appreciated instead of demanded, and whilst a certain work ethic was expected, it came a lot easier when it was born out of respect for the old man instead of fear of him. Mehmet taught him everything he needed to know about the city, and eventually, just like his son Hasan—a man who would eventually become a brother to him—he was crafted into a loyal member of the gang. Similar to Mehmet, Emre was the quiet but dangerous type; he kept his head down, but had instilled enough fear over the years that people never mistook it for weakness. It came in handy.

Emre never knew his father, but he liked to imagine he’d have been like Demir.

For seventeen years, Emre has called London home. He’s watched as Zehra has flourished in her freedom, crafted an impressive life all of his own, and learned to know what family feels like in the process. And perhaps that familial feeling is precisely why he never second guessed Hasan’s decision to separate from the rest of the gang. The turmoil the Rutherfords brought to Haringey enraged them all—even if Emre just missed out on witnessing their very hostile takeover—but not nearly as much as the fact people like Hasan have to take a backseat to the likes of Kerem and Azra because of it. Emre doesn’t regret becoming a part of Hasan’s splinter group; partly because he knows it’s the right call, but mostly because there is nowhere else he would be than at the side of his best friend, and a family who’s given him everything.

Whatever London might bring him now, he can hold his head high knowing that he always has—and always will—do the best he can for the people he cares about.

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. FAMILY: None. CONNECTIONS:

Zehra Şimşek: Best friend. About the only thing that kept him going through his bleakest moments. There wasn’t much good in his life besides her until he moved to London, but even now, she’s the best of it all. Zehra is without a doubt the person he’s closest to. They’ve been through so much together, and supported each other through some pretty shitty experiences, that their bond isn’t comparable to anyone else. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

Hasan Demir: Best friend. Without question, his brother. It doesn’t matter if they aren’t of the same blood. Emre’s trust isn’t easily earned after the kind of childhood he had, but nobody is more deserving of it than Hasan. They learned the ropes of London together, and have grown as members of the gang alongside each other. Emre trusts his best friend’s judgement, but also knows that if he ever had issue with his decisions, his protests would be heard. Their partnership and leadership is the best thing for Haringey moving forward, and he truly does believe that. 

Mustafa Ilhan: Good friend. With the exception of Zehra, he’s the only connection Emre has retained from İstanbul. The formation of their friendship was an unlikely one, given Mustafa’s status in the gang, but he’s more than proven himself over the years; both back at home, and here in London. Emre is glad he decided to make the journey, and especially so that there’s someone else looking out for Zehra now. 

Elif Ateş: Good friend. Just about all of Hasan’s gang has collectively taken Elif under their wing, and Emre is no exception. The loyalty she has shown not only to the Turks, but them specifically, is worth more than anything to him. Whilst he doubts her brother would be cruel enough to seek her out and punish her for turning her back on their traitorous family, Emre has vowed to have her back. Ayaz lays a finger on her, and he’ll break his fucking legs.

[kiigan]

"sunday" themed prompts @osteus requested: ( edge )     for the sender to prolong the receiver’s orgasm.

ㅤStars, shining above outside; stars, the two of them; stars, what Itachi's field of vision had been reduced to, for the most part. Stars and the dazzling green of the most gorgeous eyes he'd seen in his life, as gorgeous was the rest of this person currently, vehemently, mercilessly holding him captive against that bathroom stall wall. Very willingly so. His own fault and his own doing, and perfect reward punishment for all the previous relentless teasing.

ㅤCould it even be called unprofessional? Problematic? All in all, the music video was finished and the contract was fulfilled, yet there was no denying how the two of them, up until a few hours before, had been official co-workers. Which... in all fairness, had been the catalyst for the whole present state of affairs. One can only pretend to make out with an extremely attractive person for so long; eventually, fake kisses morph to greedy real ones, roaming hands reach for spots not previously scripted, body reactions grow a mind of their own.

And who would chastise them for it, anyway?

ㅤBoth of them consenting adults, of perfectly legal age, paying their own bills and filing their own taxes. If what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas, why should the restroom of a random night club be any different? A conclusion that Itachi's body seemed to have reached much quicker than the overthinking brain, but even that was ultimately drowned in the vast array of sinfully delicious noises; eager kisses being exchanged, little moans and whimpers, his back slamming against that stall wall. If anything, as was, they should be thanked for being considerate enough to take it to the bedbathroom.

ㅤDon't stop, keep going, faster, harder; murmured words that were falling off his lips like prayers, muffled on the side of Kimimaro's neck or his jaw or his lips or just not at all. Very demanding and, indeed, Itachi did have the technically easier part of the deal - simply focused on keeping his legs wrapped around the other's waist and his arms around his neck, marveling so goddamn aroused all over again at how effortlessly the actor had picked him up and thrown him against that same wall. Just like that. A lewd dream come true. And his own foresight in choosing to wear a skirt for the friendly night-out friends with benefits are still friends; a simple matter of reaching under it and taking at will, no need to undress even.

Heaven on earth. Or...

ㅤOr it was, up until the moment Kimimaro so abruptly slowed down what had been the near-frantic pounding of his hips mere seconds before. Almost whiplash-inducing enough for Itachi to slide right off, had he not been so securely trapped between stall wall and second body. The whimper of protest followed immediately, mind too addled by sheer carnal pleasure, as did his own hips wiggling in their precarious position and attempting to return to the unforgiving pace; to feel his partner reach so deep inside him he could do nothing but arch his back and shiver from head to toe.

ㅤ«Keep going,» he repeated, words dripping hungrily by the nearest ear, but to no avail. Whatever the reason, Kimimaro had shifted to a slow, unhurried pace in both thrusting and stroking, and Itachi could feel his brain about to implode as much as his balls. This little shit, and his stupid ravishing smirk and his fingers that had no right to be so skilled and his tongue and his- ...so it was going to be like that, huh. Fine. Itachi wasn't above begging, he really wasn't. If anything, he knew exactly how to curve his lips red, swollen, damp into the most enticing pout, and how to make his voice reflect the overwhelming longing.

ㅤ«Please,» he tried again, hands clutching almost desperately to the back of the other young man's shirt, «keep going, I'm so close!» And he so was, to the point it was nearly painful. More wiggling, more rolling of his hips, more tiny huffs to convey the stop teasing me! message. «Please, please, please,» tiny kisses now peppered all over the side of Kimimaro's face, his cheek, his nose, his lips, «please, baby, more! You can't stop right now, you're killing me here!»