#//why Has my left hand been through so much loll

[keeps-ache]

i keep getting all these little nicks and cuts and i don't know where they come from!! when did i cut my knuckle ?

[sceletaflores]

A Different Kind of Compensation.

part two!

pairing: mike schmidt x fem!reader

prompt: you’ve been babysitting abby for mike nearly three months now. he constantly apologizes for not paying you yet, you constantly tell him it doesn't bother you. one night he comes back from his shift at freddy’s and has a different idea on how to compensate you for all of your hard work.

warnings: 18+, oral (fem receiving), vaginal fingering (kinda???), munch!mike.

word count: this was supposed to be a short dirty work that somehow turned into a 2.2k monster. told you i love to ramble.

authors note: remember when i said i might write smut if i was just so moved by an ask? well turns out my very first ask moved me. y'all are nasty, i love it. mike, of course, is a munch because why would he be anything else? i never, with a capital N, write smut so please bear with me if it sucks. i hope whoever requested this loves it! i wrote it instead of finishing my scientific article for bio so it better be decent hehe.

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The sound of the front door opening followed by heavy footsteps woke you up from where you were dozing off on the couch. You gazed at the clock on the side table near you and sure enough, 6:10 blinked back at you. Mike was finally home. You heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, most likely shedding his work vest and hanging his keys on the little hook by the door.

You yawned, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up on the couch. The blanket you used to cover yourself falling to pool around your waist. Mike finally made his way to the living room, sitting on the couch with a soft grunt. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice rough from lack of use. “Abby eat anything?”

“Yeah, a little,” You mutter back through a barely concealed yawn, head lolling to rest on the back of the couch. “You know how she is.”

He hums in acknowledgement but stays silent apart from that, keeping his gaze trained on the infomercial playing on TV. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You sit up even further on the couch, leaning against the arm rest facing Mike. The blue/green hue of the TV bathed him in light, his hair was unruly with curls sticking out at awkward angles. He had deep bags under his eyes. Just as you thought about getting up to take off, he spoke up again. 

“I promise I’ll get you the money,” he says softly, not taking his eyes off the TV, “I…I just need some time.”

You scoff in mock annoyance, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Mike, you know I don’t care about the money. I don’t mind doing this for you.” You reply, nudging his knee with your foot softly then just leaving it perched on his lap.

Mike finally turns to look at you, there's a strange look on his face that you can’t quite place, but you give him a small smile all the same. He stares at you for a few beats, you can practically see the gears turning in his head. 

“You deserve something,” he whispers, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You do so much for me, it’s only fair.” As he speaks, he slowly moves his hand off the couch to your ankle still resting on his thigh, he starts rubbing slow circles over the skin there. His eyes never left yours as he touched you, a very obvious question in them. Asking if you wanted this.

Heat instantly rushed to your belly, cheeks turning a light shade of red at his touch. You’d always thought Mike was attractive, but you never would have imagined he’d want to be anything more than friends. Since he was already so busy with taking care of Abby and his hellish new job.

You swallow once before speaking, your throat feeling dry all of a sudden. “What are you suggesting?” You ask so softly, wondering if he even heard you. Mikes’ fingers stop in favor of trailing his hand up your calf in a featherlight touch, disappearing under the blanket to seek out more of your soft skin. Your heart is beating so fast you think you might die, the sound of it echoing in your ears loudly. 

Mike's big brown eyes stare into yours with a newfound intensity, visibly shocked that you're reacting so viscerally to his touch, his pupils are blown to hell. Chocolate brown being swallowed by black.  His tongue coming out to sweep over his top lip.

“How about you,” he says slowly, scooting closer to you on the small couch. He crowds into your personal space like he belongs there. Mike’s lips inches away from yours. He smells like old leather and dust from being cramped in the security office at Freddy’s. Your chest heaves as your eyes flit back and forth from his eyes to his lips. Seconds drag by like hours as you painstakingly wait for him to finish his sentence. “Stay right there while I make you feel good.” He finally says, his breath fanning over your face hotly. You can’t even speak, afraid of how desperate you might sound, just nodding your head roughly, not looking away from his hungry gaze.

Mike’s hand runs up your leg quickly after you give him the green-light, slipping further under the blanket and higher up your leg until he reaches his destination. He rubs you gently through your shorts, your breath hitches sharply at what should be just a simple touch, but you’re still so worked up from earlier that it feels ten times more extreme. You grasp the blanket still strewn over your lap tightly in your fists, it's the only thing keeping you from seeing Mike’s hand at work between your legs.

Mike reacts to touching you for the first time like he can feel it too. His breath stutters out of his chest, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your already wet folds through your thin cotton sleeping shorts. “Fuck.” He breathes out quietly, so quietly you doubt he even meant to say it out loud. He opens his eyes again, breathing slightly rougher as he stares at you through his arousal induced haze and heavy eyelids. 

Seeing your face must spur him on because he starts rubbing with more fervor than before, his clever fingers applying more pressure making you moan softly. You cut yourself off quickly, eyes darting down the hall to Abby's bedroom door. It's still closed, there's no light leaking through the crack between it and the floor.

"Shit, Mike." You whine quietly.

Mike groans softly at the sound of his name leaving your lips, body trembling slightly with the feeling. Suddenly he wrenches his hand out from under the blanket, and rips it off your lap frantically. You gasp sharply at the cool air breaking through the bubble of warmth the blanket provided, involuntarily closing your legs.

Mike pushes up from his position on the couch next to you, knee walking over so he's kneeling in-front of your clenched thighs. You're still slightly sprawled across the cushions, leaning on the arm of the couch.

"Do you know how crazy you make me?" He asks roughly, putting both his hands on your still closed knees. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to answer him, after a few moments you finally manage a faint shake of your head.

"No?" He asks, tilting his head to the left slightly. "Let me show you then."

Mike grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him, and leads your hand down into his lap. Your breath catches in your throat when he places your hand directly over his clothed erection, but it gets drowned out by Mike's louder whine thanks to you touching him for the first time. You drag your eyes downward, his dark grey sweatpants leave little to the imagination. He got more worked up touching you than you first thought, if the wet patch forming near the tip of his hard-on was anything to go by.

As soon as you started to rub him with purpose, Mike grabbed your wrist, halting your efforts. "No," He said breathlessly, practically panting. "No, this is for you tonight. Just wanna focus on you."

He let go of your wrist, turning his head in your direction. Both of you failed to realize how close you'd gotten when he dragged you to him. Your noses practically touch when he turns, catching you both off guard. His eyes travel down to your lips, staring at how red and puffy they'd gotten from you biting them to muffle your moans.

"How sweet of you, Mike." You whisper, leaning in just a tad closer. He lets out a guttural groan and closes the distance between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own. He leans forward, gently guiding you to lay back on the couch. His body completely covering yours as the two of you makeout, his arms on either side of your head and his hips slotting against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against your cunt. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up to meet his.

Mike breaks the kiss with a whine, trying to muffle the noise by shoving his face in your neck. You bring your hands up to tangle in his curly hair, yanking it roughly as he starts littering kisses all along your collarbones. Nipping and sucking in-between his gasping little moans as you twist and pull his hair in your grip.

He tears his mouth away to stare up at you through his lashes, his lips are swollen and red. “Please,” He gasps out, his hips unconsciously grinding down into your thigh. “Let me eat you out. Please. Tell me I can, say I can.” He babbles, hips rutting faster every second you don’t answer him.

“Yes.” You exclaim as quietly as possible. “Do it, Mike. Eat me out.”

Mike’s whole body shudders at your words, eyes falling closed for a second before he quickly slides down your body, leaving an odd kiss here and there as he goes. He brings his hands up to grip the waistband of your shorts, pausing to take a single steadying breath, then he tugs them down along with your panties and tosses them aside. He stares down at you in awe for a good few moments before he lays on his stomach, right in front of your dripping cunt.

Mike kisses along the inside of your thighs for a bit, licking everywhere but where you want him to the most. “Thank you.” he mutters, tone way too earnest for the situation at hand but you don’t have much time to think about it before he’s diving face first into your thighs.

“Fuck!” You let your voice get way too loud in the quiet atmosphere of the house, but you can’t help it. You didn’t think Mike had lots of experience because of some late night drunken talks before, but he was either lying or holding out. He works his tongue expertly along every inch of you. Every swirl, flick, or suck has you catapulting to the edge way faster than you’d imagined.

It doesn't help that Mike keeps letting out these noises. Small needy whines or deep guttural groans that you can feel. He’s moaning like he’s the one getting head, unashamed and authentic. It’s so fucking sexy.

“Shit Mike, I’m close. I’m so close.” You whisper too quietly for him to hear with his head trapped between your thighs, but it doesn’t matter. Mike brings his thumb up to lightly circle your clit as he laps against your entrance, and you're gone.

Your thighs shake as you release, grabbing on Mike’s hair for dear life as you go through the most intense orgasm ever. He moans into your cunt, working you through the aftershocks. He laves his tongue along you until the overstimulation gets to be too much and you drag his face away by his hair.

He sits up, the bottom half of his face covered in spit and slick. That visual alone is almost enough to get you ready for round two. It’s silent except for the heavy breathing coming from you both.

After he catches his breath, Mike retrieves the blanket from behind his back somewhere to cover the lower half of your body. Your thighs are still shaking as he lays next to you, it’s a tight squeeze but neither of you seem to mind. He kisses the side of your face sweetly, throwing his arm around your waist to pull you in even closer.

You finally regain enough conscience to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off?” You ask, “I mean I can’t feel my legs but I’m sure we could think of something.” Mike only laughs quietly, shaking his head. “Maybe next time, this was about you.” He said, beginning to rub his fingers back and forth on your hip. “Plus I, uh, I already sort of…” He trails off, a flush forming on his cheeks.

It took you a second to realize what he was saying, but when it clicked you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your mouth. You lifted up the blanket covering the two of you, and sure enough Mike had an impressive wet patch seeping through his sweats.

He pinches your hip lightly, offended by your giggling. “Don’t laugh at me,” He complains with a smile, yanking the blanket back up. “I couldn’t help it.”

You stifle another laugh to the best of your ability, though your shoulders still shake ever so slightly. You turn your head to press a kiss to his lips. It’s different from the previous kisses you shared tonight. It’s slower and softer, full of a new emotion that you both feel, but know that it can wait to be talked about later. For now you’re both just basking in the afterglow.

You break the kiss first, pulling back only slightly to lean your forehead against his. You both smile at each other for a second.

“Okay,” You give in, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from his face. “But believe that tomorrow is all about you.”

[puari-vol]

Peer Pressure

CW: Hypnosis

I stood quietly and unobtrusively off in a corner of the ‘slumber party’ trying my best not to bother anyone. Occasionally I glanced over at my friend Kelsey who was talking animatedly with some girls and wondered why she had insisted I come along. Of course I had agreed at the time, it seemed like a good way to make friends. But now that I was here…I couldn’t bring myself to try talking to anyone. I fixed my eyes on the cup of water in my hand. This was all… fine, I was just being Kelsey's designated driver. I was being helpful, like a good friend should be. It didn’t matter if I had fun or not. 

I zoned out enough that when Kelsey tapped me on the shoulder I jumped

“Did you really just stand in the corner this whole time? Geez come on you goof its time for the movie!” 

She took my arm and dragged me toward the TV. Both couches were full so I ended up sitting cross legged on the ground in front of them. Kelsey was about to sit next to me before she was suddenly pulled away to sit with some other girls, so now I was just sitting next to two strangers. They didn't seem to mind me, but they didn't introduce themselves either.

The lights go off and the movie starts, the chatter dies down as everybody watches. It seemed like there was something wrong with the audio, there was an odd droning sound playing under the movie. But it wasn’t loud enough to be annoying and nobody else seemed to notice so I kept quiet. The movie was honestly kinda boring, I glanced around and accidentally made eye contact with someone doing the same thing. I felt myself blush and turned back to pay attention. The movie kept going and after a while I started to space out. I was so out of it that when something changed it took me a while to notice. The movie wasn’t playing anymore, or maybe…this was part of the movie? The screen just showed a pink and purple spiral spinning around and around. The droning had gotten louder. How long had the spiral been on the screen? I couldn’t remember. I looked to the girl on my right, about to ask if something was wrong with the movie. But she was just staring at the screen, focused. I noticed everyone else was doing much the same. I quickly turned back to the screen, not wanting to embarrass myself. As I watched I tried to remember what had been happening in the movie for this to make sense, the spiral and been going for at least a few minutes now, but the more I tried the more the details of the movie seemed fuzzy and distant. I stared intently at the screen, trying to find out what everyone else was looking at…

I blinked when there was suddenly someone sitting in front of me. I only noticed because she waved her hand in front of my face after she sat down. She was backlit by the spiral on the screen and she smiled at me. 

“Hey there” she said softly “First time here?”

I just nodded feeling strangely dizzy.

“Kelsy said she was bringing someone knew, is that you?”

I nodded again, she was gazing intently at me and I started to feel self conscious, I averted my eyes and saw that everyone else was still just staring at the spiral

“Well Kelsy has good taste, you’ll be lovely”

I blush, not expecting the compliment

“Um thanks” I mumble no longer able to meet her eyes. She was grinning at me now

“Are you ready?”

“Uh…for what?”

“To learn about the button that turns off your brain” 

I blinked as I tried to sort through the nonsense statement

“The what?”

She giggled and pointed off to my left 

“Just watch, you’ll get the idea”

I looked and saw she was pointing at the girls sitting on one of the couches, all of their eyes were glued to the spiral. As I watched, another girl came up behind them. Starting with the girl on the far left, she leaned down and whispered something into her ear. Then reached over and tapped her on the forehead. At once, she went limp. Head lolling forward, eyes closed. She slumped into the girl sitting next to her, who jolted as if suddenly startled awake, eyes blinking rapidly. But the girl behind the couch simply reached over and tapped her on the forehead as well. And suddenly both girls seemed to be fast asleep leaning into each other. The girl behind the couch smiled and gave them both a pat on the head before moving on to the rest of the couch

“You see? All good girls like you have a button that turns off their brain” 

I was staring open mouthed at the girls now asleep on the couch

“But…but I’m not-”

“Shhhhh”

I felt a hand on my cheek, and my head was turned to face the girl in front of me again. I was blushing like crazy now and I stammered something incoherent. The girl just smiled kindly

“Don’t worry, you won't be bothered by that kind of stuff soon”

Hand still on my cheek, she turned my head to the right, where I watched the girl sitting right next to me get tapped on the forehead. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she slumped back, mouth open and drooling.

“Isn’t she pretty?” 

She put her hand below my chin and made me nod, I hardly noticed I was just staring at the girl

“Doesn’t she look beautiful, all sleepy like that?”

She made me nod again

“Don’t you want to look like that?”

I nodded, I wasn’t sure if she made me or not

She turned my head to face her again. Her other hand was held up in front of me, her index finger pointed at me. My eyes focused on the tip of her finger

“W-wait”

“Nighty night”

She tapped me on the forehead

[cupidssorbet]

“Let me use these fangs..”

Miguel O’Hara X Reader.

Summary: None! Muahaha! Includes: Biting, slight blood-kink, teasing, body appreciation, Mentions of the word ‘cunt’ & ‘pussy’, slight smug Miguel, just some filth babes.

★Please read!★ The reader has no specified race etc so it’s very much just put yourself in that place! Anyways you’re reading at your own volition, this was inspired by this tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRowUMqa/ !

You were working on some dinner for him for when he finally came home from what you called his shenanigans and what he called incredibly important. Humming along to the music that played from your speaker, dancing about as he came through the front door, his mask just barely coming up and off. You immediately catching his eyes as you swayed your hips to the music.

God it did something to him, all day long he’d been thinking about you, your face, your body, your voice, your cunt. It did something to him.

That’s why it came as a surprise to you when Miguel’s hands found your hips as he set his mask off to the side. His lips going straight for your neck as he left open mouthed kisses. “Miguel?” You managed to spit out, as you carefully put the wooden spoon you were using to stir the food in the pan down. “What is the meaning for all of this? not exactly complaining.”

You breathed out as his fangs grazed across your neck, his breath fanning against it. “He estado pensando en ti.(I've been thinking about you.)” Miguel exhaled slightly, sucking a hickie into your skin. “Me? Why- Ohhh sweet god, Why uh Why me?” You managed to get out getting stuck on some words like a broken record.

“Estas caderas, esos muslos, estos labios, este coño...(These hips, those thighs, these lips, this pussy...).” His hands snaked around feeling everywhere he could, “It’s been plaguing my mind all day.”

“God..But Miguel I’ve got dinner going I really should..” He quickly reached his hand down and flicked off the fire, “There, Now you won’t have to worry.” Miguel was quick with picking you up and bringing you up to your shared bedroom, shutting the door with his foot and gently tossing you onto the bed with a slight ‘Miguel!’ as he made his way over, “God I’ve been waiting for this,” He brought his hand to snake past your waistband of your pants and panties, finding your cunt slick and wet as he brought his mouth to kiss you, bring his kisses to come down your chin and neck leaving small bites on your neck as he went.

“All wet for me huh Chiquita?” He murmurs with that stupid smug slight smirk that you felt on your skin. His fingers rubbing gently in a teasing way on your clit, bringing it down to your needy hole dipping in causing you to gasp slightly. A slight chuckle coming him as he continued to kiss everywhere he could.

He kept pumping with one finger then two, your eyes fluttering as your breathing got labored. “I’m only just getting started and look at you a mess.” he pulls back pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth cleaning them effortlessly. “Strip.” He says and that’s all you need hear, moving as fast as you could to slide it off, shirt gone to the floor as well as your pants and your underwear & bra.

“Lay down Querida.(Darling)” He motions for you lay down against the propped up pillows, you lay back your hair splayed behind you watching as he removed his suit. You couldn’t help but stare at his face, his chest, his whole body.. he was left in just his boxers as he climbed onto the bed hooking his arms underneath your legs, bringing you closer. “I can put these to use,” he flashes his fangs, licking up the supple flesh of your inner thighs.

He left purple hickies all along your thighs purposefully missing where you wanted him most, gently biting into it licking the blood that slightly dribbled from the bites he put too much pressure on, reveling in the way you tried to bring your cunt to his face and he denied you every time.

“Miguelll..” You whine your head lolling back, “Alright…Alright,” He smiles smugly into your thigh at your whining. He brings his mouth down to your wet stick cunt licking a long stripe from your wet hole to your clit. Keeping eye contact until he dove in without hesitation. Your hand flying to cover your mouth, a gasp coming your lips. He stops, one of his hands taking yours and moving it. “No no, I wanna hear all of those noises.” He states before going straight back to what he was doing.

Eating you out like he was a starved man, his hands gripping your thighs massaging them as he continued your slick coating his chin and lips, making his fangs & lips shine. Your hands find his hair as you gasp and cry to him, tangling them into his soft hair. He groans into your cunt, that familiar feeling rising in your stomach, then he adds his fingers pumping two of them in and out. It added to the pressure and then it snapped, he lapped it up. Leaning back wiping his chin of your slick.

“God..I missed your cunt.” he hummed licking his fingers clean, the now noticeable bulge catching your eye as he brought himself up. Your rose from your spot bringing your hand to palm him making his breath hitch slightly. “Miguel let me help you please.” You looked up at him through your lashes. “You sure you can handle it?” He looks down at you exhaling slightly.

You nodded slightly, and he couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. “Alright belleza(beauty).” He exhales with a slight smirk taking your spot. You smiled hurrying over laying between his legs, moving your hands up to pull down his boxers his cock springing free with a bead of precum coming from the tip. Your hand immediately coming to it, rubbing up and down your thumb coming over the tip making him inhale.

“Please..Don’t tease me like that.” He groans his head leaning back against the headboard, you smiled licking stripes up his dick before completely taking him in your mouth, pumping what you couldn’t take. Humming slightly when you heard him make noises at a reaction making him exhale shakily even more.

You moved your head in a steady up and down, gagging slightly when the tip hits the back of your throat. He revels when you gag on him, it makes him feel some kind of way. He thrusts up slightly into your mouth, spit coming to the corners of your mouth as you tried your best to still take him. His hand finds your cheek wiping any tears that fell from your eyes.

Before he could even cum in your mouth, he pulls out and sighs. “Please let me use that cunt.” He asked so politely and you couldn’t deny him, he looked so desperate. You smiled before gasping as his hands found your hips lifting you above before his tip slid through your folds. Before he gently as he possibly could pushed it in.

Groaning as it went into your warm tight pussy, “Ohhh..” You slurred as he was barely filling you with only being half way on his cock. He slowly brought you down onto it carefully before he was fully sheathed inside you. “So tight and warm.” He exhaled in your ear letting you lean back on his chest, his hand finding your clit rubbing gently circles as you murmured and mumbled.

“You like that?” All you could do was nod, “Uh-Huh, Tell me.” He demanded his fangs finding your exposed neck gently nipping and biting. “Yeah, Yeah..Really like.” you sputtered out, eyes batting closed then open lazily sitting half lidded. He smiled smugly into your neck, “Mm..Good Good,”

He had set a pace, one that started out soft and careful before he got to into it. Becoming rougher, his hand bringing your hand to rub your clit, his groans and slight whines in your eyes making you clench around his dick. “Dios cariño, ¿te gusta eso?(God honey, do you like that?)” He chuckled breathlessly.

His thrusts becoming erratic and sloppy, your cunt spasming as you came around cock, he couldn’t help but speed up at the feeling. “Feels too damn good..” He sighs his breathing labored, uneven and hot on your skin. Sweat beading at your forehead. “Please please.” You whine in more of a whisper.

“Hm?” He murmurs, “Miguel please..” He chuckles, “You,You want it in?” He hums kissing a bit rougher in your shoulder and neck, “Yes yes..” You nodded as he rammed up in your cunt as wet squelch coming from it. He sped up, “Almost there..Can you let go for me one more time, please Cariño.” His hand finds your clit rubbing circles making you clench around him.

The feeling of everything made you both snap, your cunt clenching around him spasming as he shot his white hot cum into you, his head lolling back doing slow sloppy thrusts into you. Your fluids mixing as he finally came to a slow. Out of breath and laughing slightly, “Was it what you’ve been thinking about all day?”

He gave you a kiss on the cheek, “Of course, Better than I ever dream of.” He carefully pulls out of you, making you whine at the empty feeling. “C’mon, let’s get a nice warm bath.”

[nvoirs]

IVE BEEN SUMMONED. please please please write smut of re2 leon literally anything i was thinking like a quickie blowjob or handjob while the police chief is in the next room and he’s just like please be quiet i don’t wanna embarrass myself rnnnn </3

live laugh love re2 Leon.

From the outside, It just looked like you were being a sweet girlfriend who was innocently visiting her hard-working boyfriend with a box of cookies you baked as a late snack so he'd have something to run on staying so late finishing off the stupid paperwork that was keeping him from his personal life.

But on the inside, oh boy Leon just couldn't help but allow you to take good care of him. You pulled his work pants down slowly as he kept a look out at the empty office door as you took him into the warm palm of your hands.

“Fuck look at you baby boy so gorgeous.” Admiring his massive dick was a must when you were about to suck off Leon. Your mouth watered for his heavy dick to slap against your tongue lolling out in the process.

You rubbed his shaft a few times, pumping and readying him. His body turned to putty in your hands, as he quietly whimpered, hands gripping the edge of his work desk.

“Wait baby, please go slowly- ngh chief is next door.” Oh? So that's why he kept wildly looking around acting as if someone ought to burst through the door screaming ha! caught you! You shushed him gently bringing one hand to his dishevelled, golden locks running a hand through them before cupping his rosy cheek in your hand.

“You can practise being quiet for when I give you a hand in the speech room with the microphone on.” Your wide grin made Leon's eyes widen, because knowing you he didn't know if you were being serious or not. You didn't wait for a reply before taking his angry red tip drooling with precum into your awaiting mouth.

“Mmph.” You quietly savoured your meal, before beginning to bob your head, quickening the pace considerably. Leon let a deep guttural grow before cursing himself knowing the police chief was next door.

“Better stay quiet handsome, don't want to get caught by the chief now do we Leon?” His keen jerked nods made you smile through a mouthful of his cock protruding itself out of your saliva filled mouth. You hollowed your cheeks as you thrusted Leon's cock inside your wet gob wanting him to squirt his cum rapidly.

“Faster, faster.” His whines cranked up a little, his large hand gripping onto your free hair falling into your eyes. The sharp slam of the next door made both of you freeze. Shit were you actually going to get caught? The adrenaline excited you so much you hadn't realised Leon was roughly rutting his hips up against your soaked mouth. Bucking his hips inwards he let out a wayward moan as you continued to swirl your wet tongue across his shaft. His breathing became raspy, and his thrusts began to die down in your mouth about to release his thick, warm spurts of cum when a mellow voice was heard in the corridor outside.

“Goodnight, just going to say night to the officers left next door reminding them they can’t sleep here.” A chuckle followed by heavy footsteps made you slip Leon’s cock from your mouth, crawling under the desk tugging him to pull up his pants and he did so cockhead still leaking precum like crazy as he sat at his desk silently pen in hand.

The door knob turned and the police chief led his way into the room, his eyes observed before landing on Leon.

“Ah! Leon, what a pleasant surprise.”

“Sir.” Leon gave him a small smile still painfully hard in his boxers. You internally rolled your eyes as the police chief began making small talk with Leon.

“Heard a pretty little lady came looking for you at the reception desk.” He said teasingly. Leon laughed awkwardly, “Yeah that was my girlfriend, sir. She came to drop off some stuff she baked.” He gestured to the cookies on the table.

“Got yourself a pretty girl, and someone who can cook? My my you’ve won the jackpot my boy. I didn’t really expect a rookie like yourself to snag such a pleasant young lady.” You narrowed your eyes at the police chief offended for Leon’s sake, you could smell the putrid odour of cigarette smoke surrounding him and you scrunched your nose in disgust.

You were growing impatient and really wanted to pop your head up and tell him to fuck off, but that would be risking Leon's job and career so you restrained yourself jaw clenching uncontrollably. Reaching out you grabbed Leon's boner, palming the erect cock in your hands wanting him to cum. He let a wheezed gasp just as he'd said goodbye to the chief, the chief turned around confused just as Leon had cummed in his pants you hugged his legs tightly not wanting him to move as you felt the heat radiating of his skin.

“Did you say something rookie?”

“No sir i- just said goodnight.” The fake smile plastered across his adorable face worked wonders on the chief as he waved him of.

“See you tommorow then, don't be late!” And he was gone before you knew it. You let go of the breath you were holding in as you got up from under the table.

“Gosh Leon, so desperate that you quite literally cummed in your pants.” You giggle, staring at the wet stain right in the middle.

“I couldn't hold it baby, good thing I've got some spare pants in my locker.”

“Okay let's go get you cleaned up sweetheart, maybe round 2 in the showers?”

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Steve Harrington x reader | TW: BDSM, mentions of Steve’s trauma | Steve has been through a lot of pain. One of the ways he works through and releases that pain is by reclaiming it, and owning it through his sexuality. And he’s so lucky to have you in his life, someone he can trust with the responsibility of helping him heal 🥀

Precum dripped from Steve’s cock, slicking the ground where he knelt. “Please,” he begged, his request little more than a whimper. “Please let me-.”

Your hand came down hard across Steve’s cheek, the sound of your palm cracking against his skin reverberating in the small, sweaty, dimly-lit room.

“NO,” you spat at him, saliva hitting his face. “You can’t come until I say you can, Steve…”

He whimpered again, testing his restraints. Steve knew the handcuffs you’d locked him in weren’t budging, but he still had a primitive, natural instinct to ‘fight back.’

Steve had been restrained before. The first time, it hadn’t been sexual at all. Steve had been interrogated, beaten, tortured, and all while being tied in a chair, like an animal. He’d been punched in the head more times than he could count, slapped and spit on and everything in between.

Somewhere, in the midst of all that brutality, a switch had flipped in Steve’s brain. Now, when he was feeling particularly needy, when he hadn’t come in a long time, he craved darker, rougher play during sex. His therapist suggested it was Steve’s way of gaining some leverage over the trauma he’d experienced. By re-enacting the type of abuse Steve had endured, reframing it in a safe space with a safe person, Steve gained some power over a situation that had left him powerless.

Steve was in control here, in spite of the fact that he was stripped naked and restrained by three different pairs of handcuffs, his wrists bound to his ankles. Even though you had restrained Steve and were responsible for every slap and insult thrown at him today, he was still in control. This was his show, despite how it may have looked to an outsider.

Everything you did to Steve, he wanted you to do. He’d asked you to do. The trust you had for one another was absolute, which made you and Steve exceptional play partners for each other.

“You know that begging gets you nowhere,” you taunted him, smirking down at Steve’s neglected cock as it bobbed in front of him. “So why keep it up? If you want to come, you have to say the magic word…”

Steve sucked in a breath, then licked the sweat off his lips. “Eat shit,” he glared up at you.

SMACK. Three times in a row, for Steve’s rude behavior, on the right cheek, left cheek, and the right again. His cock wept softly, twitching at the stimulation. “We can do this all night,” you told him, as you walked to a nearby table of supplies. “But until you say the magic word-.” You chose a paddle from the table, and turned back to face Steve. “-You’re my bitch. And only I get to decide when my bitch comes, or if he comes at all…”

SMACK. Steve’s whole body jerked; you’d spanked his cock with the paddle this time. A sticky string of arousal clung to the instrument. Steve was beginning to reach a point of desperation, that sweet spot of being so totally aroused, so hard and fuck-hungry that his need to come was forcing a state of delirium in his brain.

SMACK. Steve knew he couldn’t last much longer. If he didn’t come soon, he’d go crazy. And when he did come, it would be fucking amazing. Steve always had the most intense, long-lasting orgasms when he’d been edged like this for hours in a row. He had reached delirium. All he had to do was say the magic word…

“(Y/N),” Steve whimpered, his head lolling forward in defeat. “(Y/N)….please, (Y/N)…”

And that was it. Your name, the magic word.

You knelt down in front of Steve, praising him, softly stroking his cheek. “That’s my boy,” you cooed sweetly. “That’s my good boy. It’s time to make you feel better…”

Your fingers wrapped around Steve’s cock, and he hissed at the moment of contact. Every one of his senses was on fire, but nothing felt as intense as the way your hand felt around his aching, abused cock.

You pumped his shaft in your fist gently at first, knowing that by this point, Steve had reached a point of arousal that bordered on pain. When you sensed that Steve could handle more aggressive stimulation, you began to fuck his cock in your hand harder, faster, your grip increasing. Steve’s body once again jerked, sweat dripping from his forehead into your hair as he watched your hand working him expertly, like you always did.

Steve shouted when he came, a desperate cry of relief, his cock spurting semen onto your wrist, your chest, covering his knees in his own cum. Tears fell down Steve’s cheeks, his chest heaving, grunting while watching load after load spill from his tip.

After he’d finished, you again praised Steve. You kissed him softly and wiped his disheveled, sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. Kneeling behind Steve, you undid his restraints, sitting on the ground beside him and massaging the soreness from his wrists and ankles.

Steve curled into you, laying his head in your lap, his breath gradually returning, his body going soft and still in your arms. You hummed a soothing melody for Steve, giving him all the time he needed to come down after such an intense release.

When he looked up at you and smiled, you knew that Steve was back. He was better, satisfied, ready to face whatever life put in front of him. His resilience was strengthened, his body and mind stronger and happier than they’d been before.

“Ready for a bath?” you asked, and Steve nodded into the curve of your arm. “I’d like that,” he replied contentedly, grinning as you helped him to his feet…

[flaneur001]

14 Days with you Royal Au (ongoing series) [Pairings- Enemy Duke! Redacted x GN Reader]

[Word count- 3172] [CW- Angst, Smut, Knife play] [A/N- Previously posted in the 14dwy discord server. Redacted belongs to @14dayswithyou]

[part 1] [part 2]

Part 2: The Evasive Enemy

You sat picturesquely at the ornate oak desk, absentmindedly twirling the quill in your hand as you stared blankly at the parchment resting before you. 

‘Whatever will I write?’ You mused silently as you dipped the tip of the quill in the open ink pot and scribbled the first words that came to your mind after an hour-long of dilly-dallying.

The dimly lit marital chamber was quiet save for the occasional scritch-scratch of your quill. 

Dearest Father, I am in good health. I know you have been worried about my prolonged silence to your lettered inquiries. But I find myself at a loss for words at the way I have been so utterly taken care of here.  We were mistaken to assume that he would fall for such baser fancies. A week has passed by and he has not visited since. Never laid a finger upon me. Always quiet and busy with his own devices. I am at a crossroads. The azure-eyed Duke seems even more mysterious now that I live under the same roof as him. Father, I have been granted permission to peruse his archives, without any surveillance. This seems suspicious, almost like a well-set trap. Though he is yet to show any animosity towards me. But I would be foolish to look a gift horse in the mouth. Keep your worries at bay father. I shall always keep myself and my safety first.  I have received the information about the article through your trusted aide, and I will bide my time until it's safe to infiltrate his study.  Until then, take Care. I will keep you informed.

Sealing the letter and putting it in the drawer, you stretched languidly and gently pushed the chair back. Your long robe billowed behind you as you trudged towards your four-poster bed and plopped upon the welcoming plushness of the pillows. Unbidden your face lolled to the side and your eyes landed upon the golden ring that rested atop the pillow on his side of the bed. The ring that he had left behind for you. It was the only evidence that he had actually been here. In flesh. 

The whole week, you were treated to rich meals, dressed in the finest of silks and jewelry, yet amidst all the niceties something constantly felt amiss. At first, you brushed it off to mere homesickness, but as time passed a cruel understanding dawned upon you. 

On those rare occasions when you caught glimpses of the Handsome Duke walking in the hallways, you felt this forlornness tug at your heart. Even back at your family residence, although you were loved, the brunt of all the responsibilities fell upon your shoulders after your mother’s death. You were always expected to be the guardian and the responsible oldest child for the five of your younger siblings. 

So gentleness and affection were seldom directed towards you. Hence when the Duke showered you with so much tenderness that first night, in his warm embrace you felt like you belonged. Like you had finally found a tether for your wandering soul.  His cold gaze slowly travelling the length of your body like a hidden caress, still lingered fresh in your mind and you felt guilt simmer in the back of your throat.

You were not here for this. Your life was far from normal and he was the reason why your great noble house had perished. Yet you simply couldn’t will yourself to forget the touch of his hands, the graze of his warm lips on the sensitive spot on your neck, or the way he hugged you when you slept. You hated to admit it, but you were downhearted to find yourself alone the morning after. The whole estate was abuzz with the news of the Duke consummating his marriage with the oldest child of the rival clan.

You were not a fool, nor were you naive enough to avoid the snarky gossip that always bubbled under the pretense of politeness in your presence. 

“His Grace has not visited them after the first night…”

“Maybe he was not satisfied?”, the servants chortled as they flitted about your room while cleaning or serving you meals.

You let them babble because your target was something else entirely. The Duke had something in his possession. Something that linked him to the murder of your mother and the conspiracy that destroyed the reputation of your house. Your initial plan was to seduce him and distract him enough that he began trusting you to let his guard down. Yet here you were, trapped in a golden confinement, with every treasure in the world laid at your feet. He even went ahead and granted you access to his archives and his office, without even batting an eye. This gnawed at your mind and slowly chewed you up on the inside. 

‘Does he not care?’ You wondered. 

You were named, ‘The prized possession’ by the people in the estate. Compared and downgraded to the several expensive objects that the Duke won and then instantly got bored with. Lay in some deep recesses of the estate gathering dust and forgotten. They said that you will soon be treated like that. And somehow this line of thought added to your insecurities.

“Or Maybe I’m not as important as I thought myself to be…” you murmured, suddenly regretting not putting in more effort that night. Regretting not begging him to stay. 

A flurry of activity and noises caught your attention breaking this downhill stream of thoughts. Rising fluidly you walked towards the bay window and nudged it open checking for yourself what all the ruckus was about. The young maids giggled and chattered under your window, pointing towards the practice grounds for soldiers. 

“Look, the Duke is out sparring today” The ladies squealed and peeked from behind a bush. Your interest piqued, you walked towards your balcony and leaned on the vine-covered railing to get a proper view. Surely enough, the young duke was in an intense sparring match. He was wearing black leather pants with high boots, his torso left completely exposed for all to see. You gulped unconsciously, eyes traitorously following the way his muscles rippled when he threw, blow after expert blow with his war sledgehammer. His long black hair swished around and beads of sweat rolled down his pale skin making you shiver involuntarily, at the way your degenerate mind imagined him sweaty and panting atop you in bed. 

Before you could make a hasty exit, the Duke’s eyes flitted to the balcony as if sensing your presence and his mouth lifted in a half smirk like he somehow knew what was going through your mind. Blood rushed to your face and you quickly ducked inside.

Evening fell. You were bathed and dressed by the chambermaid Iansa. She was very sweet and you two had bonded over this last week, getting familiar with each other through the little interesting anecdotes she shared about the Duke’s estate. 

As she took your leave, you began your daily routine. Sitting half-dressed in the center of the bed like some common whore waiting for the Duke to visit. Only that he took much pleasure in keeping you on your toes and never visiting.

A beat of silence passed. The oil lamps lining the walls flickered. Until the last shred of your patience cracked and you rose from your bed. Putting on the lush slippers you pushed open the giant double doors and walked outside into the cold and empty hallways of the Duke’s mansion. You marched towards the Duke’s office throwing all caution to the wind. 

“This is enough, I’m done waiting” you mumble as you neared the entrance to the office. Slowly, you entered inside finding it absurd that nobody was guarding the entrance to this room. You smirked to yourself, reveling at the idea of seeing the surprised expression on the Duke’s face once he realized how you, whom he thought so insignificant, was the one responsible for putting him in his rightful place. The tyrant deserved nothing but to rot in a prison. Strangely enough, the thought of getting revenge helped keep this gnawing urge to kiss the smirk off of his smug face at bay.

“Serves him well for treating me like a plaything” you mutter under your breath as you eagerly work through the rows and rows of documents filed neatly for your tampering. A chilly air from the open window, nipped at your exposed skin, the scant lace outfit not providing much to shield you from the cold temperatures. You suppressed a shiver as you grabbed a few files and took them to the window to get a better look at, under the moonlight pouring in through the glass window.

As you skimmed through the documents, a warm hand snaked around your waist, spinning you. Surprised, you were about to let a scream fall from your lips when another hand pressed tightly on your mouth, muffling it effectively. 

“Shhh Angel, we don’t want to alert the guards now, do we?” A husky voice asked. Moving from the shadows, the moonlight bathing his figure, Duke Ren smiled down triumphantly at you, like a predator who had just caught his prey.

Slowly, he released his grip on your mouth only to rest both his hands behind you on the desk effortlessly trapping you between his arms. His face inched closer as his ice-blue eyes burned into yours, “So you finally grew weary of waiting, I assume” he purred. His deep baritone made you think of unspeakable things.

You clenched your teeth, staring back at him defiantly, “Why ask me to wait if you were never going to visit” you hissed, mulish and miffed.

His eyes widened by a fraction, warm chuckle spilling through his cherry-tinted lips, bringing your attention to them. 

“Why, Angel such…temper” he tsked, “One would think you missed me.” His hand shot out, trailing a slender finger on your temple, down your cheek, only to come to rest at your chin. His calloused hand cupped your jaw, bringing his thumb to your mouth to trace the shape of your lips. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, as he rubbed the pad of his thumb across the seam of your lips, pushing and prodding until it entered your mouth. His thumb moved around, exploring the warm wetness, as his face came impossibly closer to yours, “Let me in, Angel” he breathed.

And you don’t know if it was the curiosity or the way his eyes held your gaze so enticingly, that made you want to obey everything that fell from those lips. Closing your eyes you opened your mouth wider, wide enough for him to push three fingers in, pumping them in and out as your greedy tongue lapped against them. Unbidden a moan escaped you, and his other hand grabbed your hip, fingers digging into your flesh as he roughly pulled you closer to his body, thrusting your cores together.

“Look at me love” he whispered in your ear, nipping the shell playfully before his mouth descended to your neck, to leave open-mouthed kisses.

You groaned and opened your eyes, breath already coming out in shallow pants.

“For someone who claims to hate me, you sure love me touching you. You like to think of such debauched fancies don't you?” he snickered with roguish pride, “Driving you wild. Taking you to the depraved depths and back…defiling you” he spoke hotly in your ear, his erection tenting temptingly in his leather pants.

“Please” you begged, not knowing if you wanted him to release or ravish you. 

“Please what Angel?” He challenged smirking cruelly as he, all too soon, removed himself from you, and folded his arms across his chest, regarding you with thinly veiled amusement.

A wild blush rose to your cheeks. He waited in silence as if he expected you to actually utter the vulgar words. Your chest still heaved, body warmed up with his skillful ministrations. And suddenly your mind painted an image of him in bed with other people. Jealousy like never before threatened to take over you. 

‘How is he so skilled? Has he been going to others every night?’ You mused darkly.

“Let me go” you whimpered, angry tears pricked your eyes half from humiliation and half from longing. Pulling the lace robe tighter to cover your modesty you whispered, “I do not belong here” carefully avoiding his eyes.

“Hm, I see” he began, as he leaned down, slowly sliding a dagger out from his leather boot. He balanced the blade on his fingers as he almost toyed with the weapon.

“You are right about one thing, Angel”, he drawled, as he stepped into the moonlight giving you a good view of the dagger in his grasp. Its silver blade glinted sinisterly in the dark, bejeweled hilt looking magnificent, fit for a person of his stature.

His blue eyes flit to yours silently daring you to break eye contact, “you don’t belong in this room” he murmured, pointedly staring at the scattered documents around you. 

“Bu-but you gave me access to your archives without surveillance” you sputtered, licking your lips as you felt cornered by his unrelenting gaze. A quiet dread filled your guts.

He tilted his head, regarding you with an inscrutable expression, and you took him in for the first time this evening. He was wearing all black like always. A silk shirt with the laces half done that exposed his broad chest. Tight high-waisted bottoms that accentuated his shapely midsection. His long black hair was loosely tied in a plait, making him look like a vision. 

But something about the way his sapphire eyes glimmering with that melancholic look, made him appear vulnerable in this moment.

A beat of silence passed, and he waited, the air simmering with the heavy tension between you both, as he looked at you with hopeful anticipation. For what, you didn’t know.

Slowly, tentatively he walked, closing the distance between you both again.

“Angel” he breathed. And somehow that one single word broke you. For it was spoken with such disappointment and fragility you never expected from this tyrannical Duke.

“I gave you access to my archives because I trusted you.” He ground, “I went against my advisers, against the whole estate, vouching for you, marrying you. Why do you think there was no guard stationed outside this room?” With each uttered word he stepped closer until you both were hairsbreadth apart.

“So tell me, was it all for naught?” He stressed, and the accusation stung like he had slapped you.

But you couldn’t lie to him. Not when you have been so perpetually lying to yourself. 

“This was a marriage of convenience between our households and nothing more, your grace” you replied curtly, ignoring the way his grip tightened around the dagger or the way his gaze darkened at your blatant aloofness. But you pressed on, delivering the final blow you knew would break him.

“You were and will continue to be nothing to me”

A snarl escaped his lips, and he was on you in an instant. You could feel the cold metal of the dagger pressing against your neck as he hissed, “Go. Take it all away. Whatever you were here searching for, take it. But do not lie to me Angel” his voice cracked, gaze softened, eyes searching your face desperately. 

“Not when the longing in your eyes so plainly mirrors the longing in my heart”  

Maybe it was the way the dagger pressed into your throat, a slice away from stealing your life, or maybe it was the way your face reflected in his ocean-blues, as if you were the only thing his eyes saw, that you yanked him close, pulling his mouth to yours in a needy kiss.

A low groan escaped him, sending a shiver down your spine. His hot tongue slipped into your mouth roughly entangling with yours in a sensual dance. 

You arched into him. The metal of the dagger sandwiched between your throats,  pricking your skins, was an ironic symbol of the enmity and the dark lust that often surrounded you both.

Every caution, every coherence fled your mind when his other hand raked through your hair, angling you into a deeper kiss. As the scant distance between you diminished, the blade broke your skin, sending you into a frenzy of pain and pleasure.

The heady aroma of mint and cherries invaded all your senses, mingled with the scent that was uniquely his. You were drunk off of him, intoxicated and utterly lost in depravity.

But when his teeth clamped down on your bottom lip, a whine reverberated deep in your chest and your hips involuntarily bucked forward, rubbing into his engorged arousal. He groaned and your eyes snapped open at the loss when he stepped back and moved the dagger away from your throat. 

Your mouth involuntarily chased his, earning a soft chuckle from the man.

Catching you by surprise, he suddenly dropped to his knees. He grabbed your wrist, placing the dagger in your open palm, as he stared up at you. 

“I am at your mercy now, beloved” he whispered, hands coming to rest at your thighs as he blinked at you, azure eyes glinting like precious gems in the dark.

“So slice my throat and reduce me to nothingness. But do it while you hold my gaze. For that’s the sight I want to remember when I die” he spoke with a rueful smile upon his face and a fierce anger bubbled inside you at the sight.

You were angry at the way he toyed with your emotions, angry at the way you were lusting after a man who was responsible for your family’s destruction. Angry…at the way you were falling for him.

‘Why did you have to meet me like this?’ was the last thought that flashed in your mind as you flung the dagger across the room vehemently, shattering the ornate mirror adorning the wall. 

You gave him one last searing look before marching to the door, not wanting him to see the lone tear that had rolled down your cheek.

The moment your hand reached for the handle, his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist spinning you around, as he pulled you flush to his chest. 

A hand cupped your cheek as he leaned in kissing the tears that fell traitorously from your eyes. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He simply rocked you in his embrace peppering kisses on every inch of your face. 

Then his head ducked down, languidly licking the little wound left behind by his dagger. His own neck held the same marks as yours.Just when you thought he was done, he tilted your chin making you face him fully as he whispered against your mouth, “Poor choice to keep me alive. Now I shall remind you every passing second of the day, that you are mine” he purred, “Mine to love and mine to ruin”

[thelov3lybookworm]

I was listening to hyunjin's Ice Cream and this idea came to me loll. Idk if you do these kinda requests but can you do a fic inspired by the ice cream lyrics? 🥹🥹

Azriel with reader who's really cold but he's still hopelessly in love with her? (I love hopeless romantic az 🫶🫶) but not too much angst please I need fluff and happy endings, otherwise my heart wouldn't be able to take it 😔

Ice to cream

Summary: Azriel has a stoic exterior, and no soul has ever really seen what is underneath.

But then he met someone as cold as ice, and was ready to be her sweet cream.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: okayyyyy i feel like sweet cream sounds weird but my brain thinks its cool so ignore it 😉

also, i looooove you anon, thank you for this ask ❣️

enjoy!

•○🌑○•

That day had been like any other.

Azriel had been walking down the winding streets of the city of starlight, whistling to himself.

It was rare that the shadowsinger whistled, but that day he had simply been feeling like it. It was also shocking to his own self how carefree he had felt that day and had decided to take a walk instead of locking himself up in his office and finishing up reports while wallowing in self pity since Rhys had banned him from visiting the third Archeron sister.

The day was beautiful, nothing to signal that the shadowsinger's life was about to be turned upside down.

Azriel had been walking past a bookstore, and there was nothing that could have prompted him to turn his head to look at it, but maybe some unseen forces were at work, because he glanced at the storefront, and then decided to step inside for a moment.

The inside was cosy, the light streaming in from the multiple windows not too harsh, dust motes dancing as if to an unheard song. The store was quiet except for the occasional turn of a page or the purring and meowing of a cat.

Azriel had no reason for going into that bookstore, but once there, he decided to see if he could find a small book to read when he felt like lazing about and not writing reports.

Walking through the multiple aisles, Azriel let his gaze wander.

It was some time later, when his fingers were absently caressing the spine of a book in the fantasy section and he was about to leave without a book because nothing caught his fancy, that a loud, irritated meow sounded nearby, and Azriel winced.

A blur of orange fur in his periphery caught his attention, and the moment he glanced to his left, a cat shot out from between the shelves, knocking over some books and racing towards him.

Azriel stood frozen, until another meow sounded, and a black cat and pretty female came into view. She had an annoyed look on her face as she chased the two cats, and, in his whole five hundred years of existence, Azriel had never thought he would experience at love at first sight.

He wasn't one to judge whether people deserved his time and love by their looks. He usually tried to know them personally before he did.

But here she was, chasing two cats as they knocked over books, and Azriel could not breathe.

Azriel's shadows whispered that if he caught hold of the cats, he might be able to talk to her.

The spymaster wasted no time, scooping up the orange cat as the female picked up the snarling black cat.

She panted heavily, holding tight to the wiggling cat. Azriel didn't have to struggle though, the orange cat simply stopped moving the moment Azriel's shadows swirled in front of its eyes.

The female sighed, muttering something about food in the black cat's ear, and that finally managed to get the animal to calm down.

She glanced up at Azriel, shaking her hair out of her face, her face emotionless.

She walked forward, grabbing the orange cat from him with a mumbled thank you, then walked away. Azriel raised his hand to call for her, but she had already left.

Disappointment hit him from all sides, from his own self as well as his shadows, and he was left to wonder why.

Azriel left the store without a book that day, and the pretty female had not even glanced at him as he left, and that gave Azriel a purpose.

He would have to return.

To get a book, of course.

•○🌑○•

Azriel feared she would beat him in his broody spymaster act if given the chance.

It had been a month since Azriel had first visited the bookstore, and so far, he had come nearly everyday to the store in hopes of getting her to talk to him. And, obviously, to find a book to read.

He had been unable to get any responses from her as of yet that were not one word answers, but Azriel pretended that he was making progress. That he was beginning to crack the hard shell around her.

Currently, she was arranging some books, balancing precariously on the ladder that lay against the tall shelf. Azriel watched, alert and tense in case she lost her balance and would need assistance.

It didn't take long, as she winced a moment later and started rubbing her eyes with one hand, his shadows whispering of how dust had gone into her eyes.

Azriel was next to her in a moment, his grip tight on the ladder as he smiled up at the female, and she glanced down, a frown on her face.

She put the books in her hand back into their place before she began descending the ladder. The moment she touched the ground, she scowled, turning to Azriel.

He blinked in confusion, though he still kept that smile on his face.

"Were you trying to look up my skirt?"

His smile faded, and his eyes went wide as his brain registered how inappropriate his actions might have seemed.

"I- no- I would never- I-" He sputtered, at a loss for words.

The female gave him an unimpressed look, turning away.

Azriel was frozen in place for a moment until his shadows whispered to him about how this was a good opportunity to talk to her. They screeched in his ears, and that finally got him moving as he followed behind the female, tripping over his own feet as he tried to get her attention.

"Hey! Hey wait!"

She paused behind a shelf, half turning to him.

"I was not trying to look up your-"

"Doesn't matter if you were. Happens often enough that it doesn't bother me."

Azriel froze, his brows scrunched. She made to continue walking, but his shadows shot out, the ones next to his ear letting out an exasperated sigh.

The female glanced down at her hand in confusion, to where the shadows were twisting around her wrist and weaving through her fingers.

The female's eyebrows rose, and she looked up at him.

He pulled them back hastily, heat rising in his neck and face. "Um. Forgive me. They sometimes don't want to be controlled and do whatever they want."

She turned to him with a sigh, and Azriel had to wonder if he was dreaming when he saw her lips twitch in the slightest.

Master is not dreaming. He is simply dumb. A shadow whispered as it bobbed away from Azriel's ear, swirling around itself as if in a dance.

Azriel squashed the urge to snarl at it.

"What do you want?" Azriel whipped his head to look at the female, finding her staring at him with a bored expression on her face.

He cleared his throat. "I would like to know your name."

"Why do you want my name? Are you going to put some enchantment on me?"

Azriel opened his mouth to deny any harmful intentions, but again he got distracted by his shadows' whispering.

We wish to engrave it on master's skin.

The heat Azriel's face increased.

"I-I just want to know. No reason..."

She studied him for a moment. "Y/n."

Oh it will look beautiful carved on master's chest.

It will look better on his face.

On his forehead. No one would then try to steal him away.

Or maybe on his hips-

Or butt-

To the outside world, it would simply look like his shadows were floating leisurely in the air, but Azriel could barely think straight through their unnecessary commentary.

"A-Azriel. I am Azriel."

She snorted, turning away. "I know."

He followed her as she stalked through the shelves, his mind having stopped working the moment she gave him her full attention.

"How do you know that?"

"You are not really subtle with who you are."

"Oh?"

"Everyone knows you are the spymaster of this mother forsaken court."

If anyone else had insulted or even thought something bad about his court, they would be chopped into pieces and thrown into the Sidra before they even took their next breath, but then again, Azriel's brain had stopped working, and all he could think about was the fact that she knew who he was.

"So you've heard about me?"

"Yes."

"So can I ask you out to eat with me?"

She froze in her tracks without warning, and Azriel, who was usually very good on his feet, rarely stumbled, even when drunk, slammed into her, taking both of them down.

She wiggled under him, trying to get him off of her, and he scrambled to follow her wish.

She glared at him as she straightened into a kneeling position, dusting off her clothes.

"What makes you think that?"

"Nothing." He mumbled, embarrassed that he was acting like a young boy who had only learned the concept of reproduction and how it happened.

She climbed to her feet, but Azriel's hand shot out to grip hers.

Master finally did something right without having us guide him.

We must celebrate.

Azriel decided he was going to kill his shadows, but that would have to wait for now.

"Please. I want to take you out."

Y/n studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she sighed.

"Fine."

A sudden burst of excitement took over Azriel, and he jumped to his feet.

"Amazing. Can I pick you up at sunset today?"

She nodded, and before Azriel could even realize what he was about to do, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against her cheek. Then he simply turned away, and sprinted out of the shop, already thinking about what he would wear and wich restaurant to take her to.

As he left, he didn't watch as the female who had captured his attention with a few cold looks, who was as cold as ice, lifted her hands and ran her fingers over where his lips had been a moment ago, her eyes blown wide and lips parted.

She stood there, unmoving, for mother knew how long before she glanced around, hoping no one was near.

And then, she let herself smile.

A shy, unbelieving smile as her face flushed.

And there, in the dark shadows between the shelves, her ice exterior began to crumble.

Cracks appeared.

Cracks in which he would plant himself so deeply, so thoroughly, and begin to weaken the mighty walls around her heart.

•○🌑○•

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

[greenunoreversecard]

Hi! ^^ Can you do lloyd garmadon x reader? Like literally anything. Im so starved for fics it isn’t even funny 😭

A/N: this came to me in a dream

This is a drabble.

TW: DEATH, SUICIDE.

Each line break to Hamilton means new memory/setting btw

Wait for it

Theodosia writes me a letter every day

The hardest thing about being in love with a huge political and slightly governmental figure is the fact their always gone.

But there was a simple fix; writting each other.

Normally we text, but because he's always in such high altitudes and other dangerous areas, it's been easier to write letters.

I'm keeping his bed warm while he's away

And it's worked well enough. When I do get to see him, we both joke about how our relationship is just 'victorian style'.

Luckily, the other ninja have let me live in the monestary, so I get to see as much time with Lloyd when he's back. The only condition is that I do upkeep- the chores and all that.

Love doesn't discriminate, Between the sinners and the saints

"How did you and Lloyd even meet?" I hear Jay ask from behind me, slurping the last of his drunk from his straw. "I don't think you guys ever really told us"

I feel a hand slide onto my waist, and I startled lightly before realising Lloyd's finally woken up. He hugs me from behind figure encasing me in his post-nap warmth and his head lolls into my shoulder.

"We met at Doomsday. They were a new employee" Lloyd turns his head to the right to look at Jay as he speaks.

"Typically nerd stuff. Should've expected it" Jay replies rolling his eyes.

I can sense Lloyd's eye roll, but don't see it as I'm busy cooking. I do feel his head turn back into my neck, and his soft press of kisses.

It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep loving anyway

The last time I spoke to Lloyd in person there we got into a... Disagreement, of sorts.

I never meant to stir up anything.

I had asked why every ninja needed to go on every mission, instead of just sending 2 at a time.

I mean, all of them are exhausted, and could use the time to themselves, switching out shifts with each other or something.

That was the wrong thing to bring up apparently.

One thing led to another and the debate got heated, to the point I left the monistary and went to go live with my friend for the time being.

I couldn't handle it at that moment.

its been about 3 weeks since then.

We talked over phone but decided it's best to live separately because the close quarters was giving him anxiety, due to the fact their already at risk of being attacked and he didn't wanna drag me into it.

I understand that. It just hurts because he let all of it out onto me, all because of a suggestion. I can understand how worn thin he is, maybe it wasn't the best time. He had, after all, just gotten back.

He told me we would talk in person about everything, we'd lay it all on the table after he got back.

From another mission.

I didn't know its be his last.

Death doesn't Discriminate, Between the sinners and the saints.

Its kind of ironic, it ends where it began.

Doomsday comic.

It has been a normal day, until that point, I'd gone into a shift.

It wasn't until 8 hours into my 10 I heard the screaming.

Our glass windows shattered. Some sort of- monster thing breaks in through the window.

It looks decrepit and I can see the dark red dripping from its mouth, the once blue shirt sticking out of its jaw.

The smell is putrid now, and gets worse as it's ink black body creeps closer. I duck down underneath my counter and press the emergency button.

Im covering my mouth, trying to hold down the vomit from the sheer smell of the eyeless creature, and I hear it's wet patters against the floor. It looked like it was made of tar.

I don't get another moment to think before I hear a crash. It's towering over me now.

"Don't FUCKING touch them!" I hear a voice call from behind me and the creature.

A flash of green.

Lloyd.

The monster teeters where it stands from Lloyd's attack, and I make a dash for it.

"N/n stay cl-"

I don't hear the rest of Kai's warning before I turn around.

I wasn't smelling decay, I was smelling acid.

Beams falls. I scream.

A flash of green.

A gush of red.

Lloyd's arms are caged around me, and his scent would be comforting if we weren't stuck in a pile of rubble.

"Hey, baby. Are you alright?" He asks, eyes gentle and searching.

I nod.

"Ok, just uh- I'm sorry I've dragged you into this. And uh, don't look down, k?"

"Dove, I knew what I was getting myself into by dating you and wha-"

I look down.

There's at least 1, maybe 2 beams sticking out. Of his torso, one lighly impaling my leg.

I feel my bile rise again.

My eyes water. I knew what was gunna happen.

"I- I said dont-"

"No. No. No. No-"

My breath picks up.

"I- this isn't real- I cant- this-"

"hey hey hey, look in my eyes baby? Mkay?"

I look at him through my tears, his figure slightly blurry.

"its-...." he pauses, wincing and forcing another breath to enter him. "don't forget what I say next ok?"

I nod quickly.

"Y/N M/N L/N, I love you more than anything. You are my yin, you are my life. You are my everything. And I need you to know, I will always love you."

"Don't- don't speak like your gunna die, Lloyd, please."

I hear the others calling us.

"it's-" he forces another breath. Can I kiss you, one last time?"

"your not gunna-"

"we both know its give or take a few minutes, baby."

I kiss him, like it's the last time I every will.

Because it is.

Life doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes

I don't remember anything after that.

I miss him.

I miss my Lloyd.

It's been 6 months since then. The ninja disbanded. And I'm at the tallest tower in ninjago city, debating if I should take a leap.

Life doesn't discriminate

My left foot dangles precariously.

I jump.

Wait for it

[typh0nas]

Your Safety is My Priority

_______________

Content Warnings: angst to fluff, mentions of blood, violence lol(ie. slight torture sequence ig???), sexual innuendo when Hex shows up LMAO

Character(s): GN!Reader(no pronouns mentioned), Ver Vermillion, Kotoka Torahime, Doppio Dropscythe, Hex Haywire

Authors Notes: holy shit ive been gone for a bit im so sorry guys. Anyways this is somewhat based on that one ASMR that kaichou posted where we're tied up with him hehe, but this time you're the only one that was kidnapped LOL

_______________

Your Safety is My Priority

Darkness envelops your senses. You're vaguely aware of the steady drip of water behind you, and of the chilling cold that sinks into your bones. You groan softly, the wooden chair pressing against your back and the ropes binding your hands rubbing against your skin, most likely leaving marks for you to wince at in the coming days. If that's even possible to say the least. You're not sure where you are, or how much time has passed. Your memory is hazy, bleary images flashing through your mind as you attempt to recall what even led up to your current predicament.

Right, you were in the council room waiting for Ver to arrive. He had asked you to meet him there, letting you know that he had something important to tell you. Even though you and Ver aren't together, there was no denying the lingering touches and the stares that lasted longer than they should have when it came to the two of you. Your brow furrows, as what happened next is a hazy blur.

A rough jerk of your head startles you out of your thoughts and you wince at the blinding lights. "Owwwww..." you hiss, squinting up at your captor, arms folded in front of them. "Really, is that any way to treat your guests? Rather rude to manhandle them," you laugh softly, attempting to make light of your situation whilst observing the surrounding room. The room is dark, save for the singular lightbulb practically blinding you, making it even harder to make out your surroundings. You can sense someone in front of you but their features are unclear to you, the shadows practically enveloping them.

"You shut your mouth," A gruff voice growls out, pain erupting in your jaw. You cough, the metallic tang of blood filling your mouth, and you're pretty sure that's gonna leave a nasty bruise behind.

"Oooooo, the boss isn't gonna like that," another voice cuts in. Although you can't see them clearly, you can practically hear the smirk in their voice. "But then again..." their face comes into focus and you practically grimace from how close they are. They grab your jaw and you let out a small yelp of pain, gritting your teeth, "Why should I care?" Steeling yourself you bite down, hard. Teeth meet flesh and again, the taste of blood floods your senses. You're pretty sure you've cut deep into their hand, which gives you a sense of satisfaction. The individual let out a yell of pain, their expression hardening, any instance of mock sympathy gone from their gaze. They scoff, cradling their injured hand, blood streaming down from the punctures in their hand.

The wind is knocked out of you, and pain erupts in your lower abdomen. Their leg makes contact with your stomach, kicking you so hard it sends you and the chair you're tied to crashing to the floor. You cough again, wheezing as you try to catch your breath, completely disoriented. After a moment, your chair is uprighted once more, your head lolling down.

"You should have just left them there," the second voice comments, meanwhile the first person says nothing, roughly putting you back in place. Your head spinning, you can practically sense yourself slipping in and out of consciousness, struggling to keep your head up. "Whatever, let's just leave them here for now. We can deal with them later." Their footsteps recede into the background and you finally succumb to unconsciousness.

-----

Ver's POV

His leg bounces anxiously, fingers fidgeting as he checks the time. It's been an hour and still no sign of you showing up. He sighs, wondering if his impromptu request was too jarring.

He perks up, hearing the sound of hurried footsteps outside the council room door. With a smile on his face, Ver is able to envision the flustered state you would be in, while profusely apologizing for being late.

A knock at the door alerts him of someone outside. Clearing his throat, Ver gets up from his chair, leaning against the desk. "Come in," his voice is light. However, instead of you, he's instead greeted by Kotoka. Ver frowns, "Koto? Did something happen?" Kotoka pauses, her brow furrowed. "In a way," she sighs softly, "It has to do with Y/N."

Ver can feel his blood run cold, eyes widening slowly. "What do you mean, 'it has to do with Y/N?' Did something happen?" His expression hardens, his hands balling into fists. Ver's thoughts are racing, worry overtaking him. What if something happened to you? Is this why you were so late? Where were you now? Ver knew you were capable of taking care of yourself, but the worry gnawed at him.

Kotoka places a gentle hand on his shoulder, startling Ver out of his spiraling thoughts. Pulling out her phone, she opens up a tracker app, showing Ver. "This was the last known location of their phone." Wordlessly, Ver takes the device from her hands, realization slowly dawning on him. "I should have known..." he murmurs, taking a deep breath, "It seems I didn't clear up all the loose ends from my previous mission....and now I'm paying the price for it."

"Should I have Doppi handle this?" Kotoka gazes up at Ver, concern etched on her face. Ver pauses, before handing back Kotoka's phone to her. "No, there's no need. I will deal with this personally." Slipping on his coat and heading towards the door, he stops for a moment, turning back to Kotoka. "Let the others know I'm going out, but I'll be back soon."

-----

You don't know how long you had been stuck there, but at this point, your hands had gone numb, you were shivering from the incessant draft wafting into the dank, dark basement, and you're pretty sure you had a few broken ribs, based on the way it hurt to breathe. To put things simply, you were quite miserable and in a terrible state. Your captors had long since vacated the basement area, leaving you alone to your thoughts.

---

"Ver," you scold him gently, "You've been working for 4 hours straight, I think you should take a break." Despite the way your arms are crossed over your chest, a smile threatens to break out on your face. Ver sighs softly, rubbing his neck sheepishly, breaking eye contact from the mountain of paperwork on his desk. "I promise I will after I finish this. It's important that I finish and submit this proposal before the due date-"

"Nope!" You pull the pen out of his grasp, pushing the paperwork away from him. Ver lets out a noise of protest, his expression resembling that of a kicked dog. Taking his hands in yours, you pull him up and out of his chair. Getting behind him, you push him towards the door. "Come on 아저씨, you've been working for so long now, I think you deserve some time to yourself. Besides your stuff isn't due until two weeks from now, so I think you can take some time for yourself. Also, you've been sitting at that desk for so long I can practically hear your joints popping and cracking," You teased him, a bright smile on your face. Ver relents, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright I'll take a break. Only because you asked so nicely," he laughs softly, his hand wrapping around yours, fingers intertwining with yours. You feel your face grow warm, not expecting him to be so forward.

Ver tilts his head curiously to the side, before realizing what he had done, his face also flushing. "Oh whoops, I didn't mean to do that, it was instinctual I swear!" He's clearly flustered and you panic a little, feeling him start to let go, tightening your grip on his hand. Ver stares at you, eyes wide from surprise, almost as if he didn't expect you to continue holding onto him. The two of you stand there in between the council room doorway and the hallway, both of you speechless and unsure of how to proceed.

"Oh? Do my eyes deceive me? What do we have here?" Doppio's head peaks around the corner, a mischievous grin on his face. "Looks like you finally made a move, good on you Ver." His grin widens, shooting Ver a thumbs up. You and Ver both flush various shades of red, letting go of each other's hands. "We're not dating Doppi, it's not what it looks like!" You exclaim, trying to explain why you and Ver were holding hands. Another person peeks around the corner, a skeptical look on his face. "Yeesh, you guys really need to get a room, why don't you go back into the council room so you guys can continue eye-fucking each other in privacy."

"Hex shut up."

---

Yelling from above you is the first thing you can hear in your dazed state. A headache rages in your skull, and you lean against the wall. The cool concrete provides some solace, quelling the pounding in your head. The door crashes open, and a pair of frantic footsteps make their way towards you. You open your eyes slightly, immediately recognizing the person before you.

"Y/N!" You can hear the worry seeping into Ver's voice, his hands reaching to cup your face. You unintentionally flinch against him, your head jerking back from the pain in your jaw. Ver's gaze widens, his eyes trailing down to the bruise on your cheek, understanding dawning on him. He presses a gentle hand against your shoulder, conflicting emotions crossing his face.

"Ver-" your voice croaks out. Ver moves to your side, his hands make their way down to the ropes binding yours, a slight grimace on his face. "I'm so, so sorry. I was careless, and because of that you got dragged into my mess," his bangs hang over his eyes, hiding his expression from you. You open your mouth to speak, but you keel over, slight movement from your end turning a dull ache into sharp pain. Ver catches you, supporting you as his hands work his way around the rope. After a moment you clear your throat, looking him in the eyes.

"It's not your fault, trust me. You can't blame yourself for the actions of other people," your voice is scratchy and hoarse, most likely from disuse. He shakes his head, sighing softly, "But I'm the reason you're here now...aren't I?" He pauses, eyes trailing over your figure, seemingly taking in your injured state. "You got hurt because of my carelessness. I have no one to blame but myself."

Finally, after some frustration, he relents, pulling out a small knife, making quick work of the rope. It falls to the ground and you pull your wrists up, rotating them to get the blood flowing again. Your hands feel clammy and numb, and you can see the indents in your wrists, your skin rubbed raw. Ver moves down in front of you, kneeling as he works on cutting away the rope tying your ankles to the chair. Swiftly the rope falls away and your legs are free. You shakily push yourself up off the chair but you stumble, knees weak.

An arm reaches around you to support you. Ver hoists you up as delicately as possible, guilt etched on his face. "Ver-" you whisper, and his head tilts in your direction, indicating that he's listening to you. "I already said this earlier, but this was not your fault alright? I know you're bound to have many enemies, but I know that you'll always be there for me, no matter what happens. These things happen, especially in your line of work," you wheeze out, limping towards the stairs leading upstairs with Ver's help.

Ver gasps softly, a faint flush on his face, "I'm sorry," he murmurs, and you jolt a little, hearing how close his voice is to your ear. "I still can't help but feel guilty because I wasn't able to protect you fully...and I care a lot about you. You mean a lot to me, I'm being serious."

You blink, slightly surprised. You were expecting Ver to be worried about you, but his sudden confession catches you off guard. "...Thank you," you mumble quietly, "For coming to get me, kaichou." He pauses, his stare lingering on you, a quiet laugh emerging from him, "Of course, I will always come save you if you're in danger, no matter what the stakes are."

The two of you stop in front of the imposing staircase, and you wince a little, trying to figure out how you would hobble upstairs. Without warning, you feel your feet lift off of the floor and you let out a yelp, finding yourself in a bridal carry. Ver seemingly lifts you with ease, and you blush feeling his body pressed up against yours. Warmth emanates from him, and as embarrassed as you are, you can't help but lean into him.

You both reach the top of the stairs, emerging into a large warehouse. You peek out a bit, eyes widening at the sight of all the unconscious bodies strewn across the floor. Ver strides towards the open door off to the side, the slight breeze causing you to shiver. Ver takes notice of this, gently setting you down against the wall so you could lean against it for support. You protest a little, already missing his warmth, before a familiar coat is draped over you.

Ver kneels down, smiling softly, tucking his coat around you to keep the warmth in. "It's chilly out, so you can have my coat. I'll call the others to come pick us up okay, I'm sure it won't take them too long." His gaze lingers on you for a moment too long, before he reaches into his pocket to grab his phone. He takes a step back, getting up to make the call. Ver's coat provides a comforting weight, and you can't help but snuggle into it a bit, inhaling his scent that lingers in it. You're reminded of how gentle and tender Ver has always been with you.

---

It doesn't take long for Ver to finish up his call and he turns back to where you are, only to discover that you've dozed off. He chuckles softly, leaning over you to examine your features. "Ver reaches out to brush a stray hair out of your face but pauses, his hand hovering in the air. "Y/N?" he whispers softly, reaching out to brush a stray hair out of your face but hesitating. His hand hovers in the air, but after some more hesitation, he relents, fingers gently grazing your face. You barely stir, chest rising and falling with each breath that you take. "Heh, you look pretty good with my jacket on you," he mutters, his face becoming flushed. Against his better judgement, he leans over, tucking your hair behind your ear, his lips grazing your forehead ever so slightly.

"Sweet dreams, no harm will befall you as long as I'm here."

_______________

Back to Navigation {☆}

[shameshomalo]

HIIIII this is my new pressure OC!!! Her name is Remora :) I’ve been super anxious to share her because I’m worried this’ll get no traction loll but i figured why not Yk? No but really i would really appreciate it if y’all can take a quick gander at it. Much love XX

This is her file, its obtainable by a quest she offers. If y’all can’t read the file lmk and ill post the text under the cut :)

This is her a few months at UrbanShade, she was still very upset about the experiments here. And the pic or her on the right is her fully transformed (still working on her full body ref, pls bear with me 😭)

LOREEEE UNDER THE CUTT XX

I’m gonna try and make this as short as i can so y’all aren’t reading too much but i do have a lot to talk about lolol. Feel free to ask any questions, my inbox is always openXX.

Remora (Aka Lurker, H-576)

BASIC INFO

9’4

31 years old

She has suction sticky pads under her hands and stomach, she will stick to you walls because its fun.

Her jelly bulb radiates colors when feeling certain emotions but most of the time it rests against her head and stays translucent.

Her purpose is to search, retrieve, scout, spy.

She is mixed with:

Sea angel

Gulper Eel

Galacus Atlanticus

Re◼️◼️ ◼️◼️

Sarcastical fringehead

Man o war

Great white shark

◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️

◼️◼️◼️◼️

Lore about her/sebastian

She mostly appears between doors 15-85 and is always a friendly entity unless tirelessly provoked.

Ever wonder why there is just random files and DNA strewn around the facility? That because of Remora! During her time at UrbanShade she was always doing little tasks for the staff members and due to that she gets restless and irritated if she has nothing to do. During the lockdown she encountered Sebastian and decided that she would literally stick to him and as a way to get her to leave him alone he would send her out to collect items for his shop. After awhile this became a habit for the both of them and an alliance was formed!! One time Rem accidentally left a stack of files out and an expendable came across it and carried it with him to use for trading, this sparked an idea sooo irritatingly for Sebastian she would go out of her way to leave assets out to be collected. (Sebastian is NOT happy about it but it keeps her busy and costumers coming through so its an unfortunate win-win)

Encountering Rem mid-run info

Rem has a few rare interactions such as a 50/50 chance of seeing her in Sebastians shop (common). Sometimes she’ll try and gift you an item or files but Sebastian always yells at her not to.

If you encounter her outside of the shop there’s an 75% chance she’ll give you whatever files she has on her at the time (between 80-350 divided equally amongst your group), and a 30% chance she will give you a random item. You almost always get at least one battery.

Her nickname (Lurker) comes from the fact that she will follow you throughout your run, don’t think its cute though, she’s HUGE and always gets in the way of things, mainly you, she always tries and sticks to you, will get mad if you shoo her away. You can catch her peeking at you randomly through windows, vents or cracked doorways.

She does have a quest its common if its the first time you meet but becomes rare if completed/ declined. Since she LOVES searching for things (as per her DNA) she will ask that you hide a certain favorite item of hers in any random spot throughout your run since Sebastian never wants to. That’s it, nothing complex but you get a badge for it (I don’t have a name for it yet, sigh)

Super rare encounters are that she’ll warn you about an entity if she happens to spawn at the same time as another entity

Obtaining her file isn’t necessarily complex but if you complete her quest you will notice a random file Sebastian has to offer you. (You do not get a notification for obtaining this file, the only way to notice it is if you check the files you already own).

OKAYYY SO THATS IT FOR NOWWW I’m working on more lil drawings of Sebas and Remora so pls bear with me as they get uploaded. THANK YOU THANK YOUUU if y’all have made it this Farr i really appreciate and love all of you big smooches to y’all ehe. (Might come back and add more info later we shall see anyways love u guys xoxo)

[zeroducks-2]

You know what’s rolling around in my head right now? Vampire Eobarry. Either one being a vampire is beautiful. Speedster vampires (I don’t know if that’s a thing that’s possible but the horny brain says it is) needing to feed from someone with a healing factor. Either way it’s some nice Barry whump. Either reverse flash absolutely wrecking him and feeding from the hero or in denial vampire Barry starving himself cause he doesn’t want to hurt people. Eobard cooing at him and saying of course Barry needs him, shoves his wrist in Barry’s mouth while petting him.

i agree with you anon, vampire speedsters are a fantastic concept :3 I am currently writing not one, not two but THREE Eobarry vampire AUs lol, and it must be in the air because @gabedemon also has more than one! Theirs are frickin amazing btw, I highly suggest you go harass them to get them to talk about it :D

But yeah, have a snippet of one of the fics I'm writing featuring Vampire!Eobard and human (well you can't really call him human but you know what I mean) Barry. There's a whole context to this but I won't bore you with it.

(blood drinking, hypnosis, Vampire Eobard, Vampire thrall Barry)

Barry is still holding onto him with both fists tightened around the material of his suit, clawing at what’s left of his consciousness not to let it slip. There’s something frantic in the way his eyes move, hazy as they are, like he’s afraid he isn’t going to open them again if he lets them slip closed. 

Eobard grimaces, a bitter taste on his tongue despite he’s just finished drinking. He wants to wait for him to go down but Barry is fighting really hard not to, and so Eobard ends up sitting down while holding him, supporting his weight while carding fingers through short locks to help him unwind. 

The wound on his neck oozes blood at the same rhythm of his accelerated breathing, and just the smell of it makes Eobard’s jaw tighten with another wince. He is still hungry, he’s never been satisfied with a single session after all, and it suddenly hits him that this might be the reason why Barry hasn’t settled down despite the blood loss. Some acutely aware part of him must have caught that they’re not done yet.

«I’ll be quick.» Eobard mumbles, his thumb going over the smaller speedster’s sweaty brow. Fortunately he’s enough out of it not to realize that he’s being put under mental subjugation. That ability got enhanced so much through the vampirism that now it works even on Barry. It never did before. «Just look at me.»

Barry’s shallow, gasping breaths start to slow down. He ends up  holding on to Eobard’s suit very weakly and with just one hand; his head is heavy and it would loll on a side without support, and it almost feels like he’s reaching into the palm cradling his cheek.

Fangs sinking back into his neck pull a whimper from the pitch of his chest. Eobard shivers hard, holding his quivering body tight against himself.

[caspersickfanfics]

Prompt List | AO3 | Ask | Rules

Warnings: Vomiting, amnesia, mentions of other symptoms including headaches/brain fog/passing out, mentions of blood, speculated poisoning, trauma response

A/N: Yeah so... this is none of the WIPs I've been working on for months, actually, but I just Needed to get something done this weekend, so. Here we are. I have Ideas for a part 2 for this and if you read closely you might be able to pick up on some intentional loose ends but also I'd feel irresponsible adding to my WIP list at this point. We'll see. Anyway, this is for @monthofsick day 21: Sleepy Sickie

It’s the dead of night, amidst a humid summer heat, when Cyno shows up at Tighnari’s doorstep, feverish and ill. He’s trembling all over, downtrodden, and exhausted. His hair is sweat damp, his face marred by tear tracks, just barely visible in the lamplight.

Tighnari guides him inside. He has Cyno sit, and then wordlessly checks that his body is in one piece. For the most part, yes, it is, but he makes quick work bandaging a dozen or so surface level wounds. By the time he’s done, the matra has dozed off, slumped back against the chair with his head lolling on his chest. Tighnari wants him to rest, but worries about his fever and gently wakes him to gather more information.

“Hey,” Tighnari says quietly. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Tighnari?”

“Mhm.”

There’s a flash of panic across his face, and Cyno’s muscles tighten. Responding immediately, Tighnari places a firm hand on his chest, and while Cyno stops struggling to stand, the tension doesn’t fade, his eyes searching Tighnari’s face. Tighnari feels his brow furrow when Cyno asks, “Where are we?”

“We’re at home,” he states. His voice is masked with a carefully curated calm. He can feel Cyno’s heart rushing far too quickly under his hand. “We’re safe.”

Cyno looks completely lost, but after checking and double checking his surroundings - as if he doesn’t believe his eyes - slowly relaxes. He still looks off-kilter.

Tighnari’s unease heightens. “You don’t remember why you came here?”

The matra’s face scrunches up, confused and distressed. “I don’t even remember coming here,” he mumbles. He hardly sounds like himself, voice even lower than usual, words slightly slurred. A shiver runs through him.

“It’s alright,” Tighnari reassures. “Let’s not worry about that. If I give you a list of possible symptoms, can you let me know which ones you’re experiencing, or if I'm missing any?”

Cyno agrees with a nod, and proceeds to respond to the rest of Tighnari’s questioning in a similar fashion. Headache, muscle pain, stomach ache, nausea, hot flashes, shivering, weakness, lightheadedness, fatigue, brain fog… Tighnari clocks the silent but affirmative responses to each item on the list with a growing sense of dread.

“You don’t remember if you ate anything suspicious recently, do you?”

“Don’t know.” It’s clear he’s running out of energy. When his head dips forward, Tighnari cups Cyno’s cheek in his hand. “Wanna sleep, Nari.”

Again, Tighnari wants to let him sleep, but Cyno’s needs take priority. “Not yet. Stay awake for me, love - can you do that?” 

Cyno sniffles sadly, but his eyes remain open, if glazed. They’re certainly bloodshot.

Tighnari cleans him up. He hopes to help ground him. Sometimes Cyno needs time to settle in a given location, and things like a warm bath can help.

It doesn’t seem to make much of a difference this time, but at least he’s no longer covered in mud and blood and… well, the sweat reappears quickly enough. Cyno all but falls into the bed, sending his partner a look of utter betrayal when Tighnari guides him to sit rather than lying down right away. He smiles in apology and squeezes Cyno’s hand. “Just a bit longer, hm? You’re doing so well.”

When Tighnari offers him water, though, any color left in Cyno’s face drains in an instant, and the next, he’s pitching forward with a retch.

“Oh–” Tighnari quickly steps back, sets the glass on a table, and helps Cyno over the edge of the bed. Nothing comes up, and it’s just strands of saliva dripping to the ground, but he heaves again and again. There’s a strangled noise, like he’s trying to speak. Tighnari tries to quiet him.

“Shhh, Cyno. Settle. It’s okay.”

“I— hurrrrgh!” His body is relentless, abdomen clenching in a cruel attempt to expel something that simply isn’t there. He groans.

“I can’t,” Cyno grates out. It hurts him to do, and he’s thrown into a violent coughing fit that devolves into more heaving and more pain. He’s shaking horribly.

“It’s okay,” Tighnari repeats. He'd do just about anything to make this stop, and yet, the only thing to do is wait it out. “Oh, Cyno… just breathe.”

When he finally regains control of himself, Cyno is gutted in a way that he can’t put words to. Instead, he takes a deep breath, and releases a single sob. Tears stream down his face - and he doesn’t understand why. Tighnari is alarmed, checking him again for injury, asking about whether he’s hurt himself internally. He shakes his head and pushes Tighnari's hands away, because there's nothing they can do to fix this.

“Need to sleep,” he moans, and it’s desperate. His stomach is going to start revolting again if he stays awake much longer, or maybe he’ll simply pass out. And he craves sleep. So, so badly. After a moment, Tighnari nods.

“That's alright, love. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

–––

Send asks here!

[swanimagines]

Hello! Could you do John Murphy (The 100) + Moondust by Jaymes Young? Thank you very much!

When Murphy woke up, he was lying on that pile of soft moss again. The sun was casting its beams through the trees, creating golden spots all over that endless forest.

He knew by now that it wasn’t real. This place wasn’t real, it was merely a dream that would break his heart all over again when he woke up. But frankly, he didn’t care at this moment, as it was a chance of seeing you again.

The final battle had taken so much. When one of the Disciples had snuck up on him, you had thrown yourself against him, making him fall on the ground. And he knew even before he had met the ground — you had saved his life and gave up your own life for him.

And despite knowing that, he tried to drag you to safety, tried to plead for you to stay awake. You sputtered out blood, choking on it. Murphy tried so hard, fought against the impossible. But he knew, this was the day he’d lose you.

You had been friends since childhood. And you had become lovers when you were sent down to Earth. It was all for fun at first, but then turned out to be something more serious. You had grown together, and it all had led to that moment. Him holding you against him, pleading for you to stay with him, not leave him alone.

You had tried to comfort him as much as you could. You held his hand — your hand was shaky and weak, but you tried to comfort him. Wordlessly tell him he’ll be okay, you’ll be there for him even if he doesn’t see you.

It felt like a lifetime, you two sitting there. But at the same time, it went by too fast. Finally, you took in a few gasps, gurgling the blood in your throat, and then… your eyes fluttered closed and your head lolled to the side. 

You were gone.

But now, seeing you sitting by that waterfall, turning to see Murphy and smiling at him — standing up and running to meet him halfway. It felt so real. Murphy knew everyone would think he'd be crazy if he told them about his dreams.

“I missed you,” you told him, the same thing you told him every night. Over and over, as if you forgot it again. Which you technically had, Murphy thought. You’re only my dream, not real.

He knew what you’d say if you’d actually stand before him right now. You’d tell him to move on in his life, to be happy. That you don’t want him to swim in misery, that he’s breaking your heart by not moving on. How can I move on without you? Murphy would reply if it really was you. I can't go on without you.

But it wasn’t what he’d say to the dream version of you. Here, you were still alive. You were happy. You didn’t know you were dead. He didn’t know why Murphy kept coming back. You didn’t see the pain, how he had drunk himself in so bad shape that he had been slapped by others, because he was rude, blaming everyone for not saving you. He knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault. You had chosen to die for him. If he wanted to seek the guilty one, it would be you. But it was easier to blame others whenever he was drunk.

“I missed you too,” he muttered, smiling as you took his hand.

“Come,” you said, nodding towards the pathway that had appeared beside the waterfall. “I have something cool to show you.”

He let you lead him to that cave, where you always brought him. It was the same cave you had spent time with him in real life, back when the Earth still existed. The same cave where he had finally told you he has fallen in love with you, and wants more than something free and casual. You had agreed, and you had kissed there for the first time as a couple. And after that, that cave had been your sanctuary for a long time.

You arrived at the cave, and you gestured around. “I found this yesterday, after you left.”

He nodded, looking around too, acting as if he saw it for the first time. “Yeah, it’s nice.”

You sat down on the pillows and blankets. “We could stay the night here?”

“That’d be nice.”

“But…” you sighed and bit your lip. “I know you need to leave before sunset again.”

He nodded. When the sun here set, he woke up and was reminded you only existed in his memories and dreams. And still, he always willed himself to return to you, night after night, even when your discussion was the same every time. But being close to you, even getting a semblance of what you used to have, how you used to be, being able to hold you, kiss you, smell you… it was something he wasn’t able to let go yet.

Murphy smiled. “But, I’m not going anywhere yet.”

You sat in silence for a while, before you squeezed his hand. “So, what happens next?”

Murphy frowned. “Next?”

You nodded, tilting your head. “Yeah. What happens when you leave?”

He shrugged. “I… I wake up.”

“And then?”

“And then… I…” he trailed off, not able to just say it.

Say it.

You sighed. “You can’t keep coming back here, John.”

Murphy averted his eyes from you. He knew this was the rational side of him speaking, reminding him what you’d say if you were actually there with him. He had been afraid of when his brains decided to make the dream you say these things.

But he still refused to believe it. “Why not? You’re here.”

You shook your head. “You know it’s not really me. I’m your imagination, but I keep you from going forward. Wherever I am, I know my heart breaks every time I see you destroying your life because of me.”

“You aren’t the one—”

“But I’m the reason what’s causing you to behave like an ass towards your friends.”

Murphy didn’t reply, knowing you’re right. You shifted closer to him. “You need to let go of me.”

He breathed out and swallowed. “I don’t… want to say goodbye.”

You smiled sadly, snuggling closer to him. “You don’t have to say goodbye. Just… until we meet again.”

He knew all of it was true, even if he tried to deny it from himself. So he closed his eyes and willed himself to nod.

He felt your hand disappear from his. “I love you, John.”

Then, it was silence, and darkness. He knew even before he opened his eyes, that the dream had ended early.

And when he finally opened his eyes and sat up, he was in his cramped room again. The bitter smell of alcohol floated in the air, bottles all around his room. A half-empty glass of whiskey on his night table. His room was a mess. No, he was a mess. And he knew he had to get his life together, but he didn’t really know how. Now even his body was telling him that he needed to let you go. Bury his love in the moondust. You had always joked that one day, you’d move to the moon and build a house there. You’d be there all by yourself, and you’d also own the biggest lot in the whole solar system.

He knew that burying his love didn’t mean he would need to forget you or stop loving you. He just needed to bury the part that couldn’t accept the fact you were gone. That your visits in his dreams would be natural, and not a practiced habit he had learned when you died.

The whiskey on his night table called out to him, tempted him. Drinking the pain away in the only way he knew when not sleeping. But he forced himself to turn away from it. He had to let go. And he had to find other ways to cope than dreams and alcohol. He knew it, he knew it was what you would want. 

And the best way to honor your memory was keep on living.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[fixatedonfandom]

Mask Off

[I have a tf2 prompt I wanted to write but I don't have enough of them to make a prompt compilation so I figured I'd just write it here and hope everything goes well. I did the absolute most on the French so pls fix it if it's wrong]

BTW I HAVE SURGICALLY GRAFTED HUMAN EMOTIONS INTO EACH OF THE MERCS IN MY FICS SO THAT'S WHY THEY'RE 'like that' (normal). I have grafted double the amount of emotions into Spy as a treat.

Synop: Scout is sick. Really sick. 'If we can't get this fever under control it's the hospital or the morgue' sick, and Respawn can't help him this time. They'd already tried that. He's gotten so delirious he's fighting Medic every second he's awake, not really lucid enough to remember so much as his own name, much less that of any of the team. Medic is ready to put him under full sedation and try and work things out from there, but Spy has an idea.

~~~

"Hold his arms! Now!" Medic snapped, not knowing nor caring who listened. Demoman had been hovering near the bed, and latched onto Scout's wrists to pin him down before the thrashing began.

Scout was feverish, slurring out something incomprehensible, almost as angry as he was frightened, and was pushing up against Demoman’s hands with every ounce of fight he possessed. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t seeing, and nothing the Medic said or did could bring them around to focus.

”What’s now, doc?” Demoman barked. As Scout bucked against him, Demo laid down right on top of him, using his chest to keep Scout on the mattress.

Medic did not speak; he grabbed one of Scout’s arms and held it fast against the bed, then slapped the strap of a soft restraint around his wrist and yanked it tight. Demo fumbled for the one on the other side and did the same, and moved to Scout’s legs to keep him still. All the while, Scout was yelling out nonsense, interspersed with things that sounded like pleas.

“Jus-no, ge-get off! Get off me! Leave, no, please-” 

”You’re a’right, lad! You’re a’right, it’s Demo!” said Demo, with heaving breaths. “Demo? Scout, lad-”

“Ge-get- fuck- let-let me go!” Scout gasped in turn. His thrashing rattled the bed, only then being kept in place by the wheel locks, and he was straining his arms against the restraints hard enough to leave a bruise.

Medic was frazzled, composed as he may have looked. He’d almost made the decision to lunge for a syringe of sedative when Scout began to calm, by nothing but him exhausting himself, until his head lolled to the side and all that remained of the fit was mumbling and an occasional spasm.

Demo backed away from the bed, swiping a large hand down his face and clearing the accumulation of sweat from the rim of his eyepatch. “Tha’s a worse one. Didn’t say nothin’ compr’ensible.”

“Least he kept his hands to himself,” the Engineer cut in. He’d been sitting by Scout’s bedside in a creaky metal chair, and had one hand thumbing through a book of known ailments, and the other nursing a cold-compress- one of the few Medic could spare, given the circumstances -to a blossoming bruise on his jawbone.

When push came to shove, as it often did, Scout had a mean left-hook. He was so scrawny-looking that it was easy to forget.

“Not tha’ we gave ‘im much choice,” Demoman sighed. “I feel for th’lad. Cannae imagine wha’ he’s seein’. Wee lad’s prolly thinkin’ he’s fightin’ off ghoulies ‘n ‘his own personal hell.”

“That will be all, Demoman,” Medic sighed over him and ran his fingers, ungloved, through his hair. His black hair was dull, limp, and greasy-looking, and as unkempt as the man who wore it. Both had gone at least two days without a proper wash.

“Aye,” acquiesced Demoman, and picked up another ailments book to flip through with Engineer. Medic would have been doing the same if not for Scout needing spontaneous care. The Engineer and Demoman had offered to help him, overwhelmed as he was with keeping Scout’s fever down through the past two days and trying to find the source of the illness, and stayed in the infirmary with Medic.

Each RED team mercenary displayed his concern for Scout’s wellbeing in his own way.

Heavy had been one of Medic's assistants for the first day, but stepped away when the look of Scout in the throes of fever became too much for him. Too many memories, and none of them good. He spent his time researching for the doctor, much like Engineer and Demo. He'd also made a sandvich for when Scout wakes with an appetite, just in case.

Engineer and Demo needed to be useful, and stepped up on the first day to help. Engineer had no head for medicine and a piss-poor bedside manner, but he could read and research better than most anyone. He turned up to the lab, grabbed an armful of medical textbooks, dropped himself down in the chair besides Scout's bed, and remained there for two days straight. Demoman could comfort- he was a touchy-feely guy, and he was strong. When Scout first awoke two days into the fever and started fighting, Demo appointed himself to Scout's bedside to catch him when he flailed.

Soldier wasn't much for medicine work, and he hated the infirmary, but he became the one that everyone relied on for routine since theirs was so disrupted. He enforced breakfast and dinner like a drill sergeant, bringing food when Medic couldn't leave. In the absence of anyone else to talk to, he'd managed to clean the base spotless too.

Pyro drew pictures, and sent them in like clockwork. Doodles of the team, filled with colors, smiling scenery, and a healthy, happy Scout in the middle of each one. He didn't come by to visit. Knowing what Scout was acting like, he knew he might be too scary for him.

Sniper did what he did best- he kept his distance. Once or twice he came around to visit, but saw how overwhelmed everyone one was stayed out of the way. Somehow, though, the coffee pot in the kitchen never emptied, no matter how many cups were taken out of it, and the dishes were cleaned despite no one sticking around the kitchen long enough to do them.

Spy was different. To the outside eye his concern, if any, hadn’t manifested at all. He still smoked his cigarettes as though he had only a day left to live, and still holed himself up in invisible corners around the compound, only appearing when least desired. If RED were not a team, one could think him heartless and detached. 

They were, however, a team, and even the least observant among them had seen the signs of stress he carried. Spy’s aura was tense, and he carried himself with more urgency, when he was ever seen. If he was not in his smoking room, he was in the infirmary, watching, an unlit cigarette bitten between his teeth to satisfy the fixation but not disturb Scout’s breathing with smog. In the times between Scout’s waking bouts, he would step aside with Medic and ask questions regarding Scout’s health in hushed tones, like hiding his fears from prying ears. 

It was then, when Scout had settled into fitful sleep again, that Spy melted out of the shadow of the infirmary wall to approach Medic from behind, with his usual inquiries.

“Finally utilizing those restraints, I see,” Spy remarked, equally delicate and ironic. “How is the boy today?”

“Worse. Only getting worse,” replied Medic in a rough tone. He’d turned to his shelves of medicines and concoctions, shifting through the bottles and making them clink together. “Verdammt, where is it?”

Spy came around him and looked over Medic’s shoulder. “What are you looking for, my friend?”

“Fever reducer. I tried to give him one earlier.” Medic picked a bottle, read the German label, and set it behind him on his desk. “He spat it out.”

“Not surprised.”

“It was too weak, anyway,” Medic said. He paused in his rummaging to glance back at Spy, perhaps to see if he was listening. “I was a trauma surgeon. I have not treated sickness in many, many years.”

Spy’s cigarette had turned into soggy, unpleasant paper mache in his mouth, and the tobacco leaves had fallen out onto his tongue in bitter mush. He put the old cigarette in the bin near Medic’s desk, then pulled himself another.

“I hope you have some idea of what this illness could be, yes?” Spy ventured as he put the cig between his teeth. Medic sighed and did not meet his eyes, just shaking his head and whispering something. “Then how do you possibly plan to treat him?”

"I...I don't know. Verdammt, I do not know!" Medic admitted like he was spitting out a tooth. He clutched the sides of the cabinet doors, and the wood creaked under his hands. "He will not take fluids, he will not eat. If I cannot get him to calm down I will have to sedate him until he's not at the immediate risk of death. That alone poses its risks, but I would rather those than...this."

Spy glanced over his shoulder to trail his eyes down Scout's body, quivering and sweat-soaked, as he fitted in his sleep. "What kind of risks?" he asked.

Medic collected his thoughts and sighed again, a forceful huff through his nose, then replied, "Delirium. Worse than this. If his breathing continues to get worse he will have to be ventilated, which doubles the risks of prolonged sedation. Depending on how he processes the sedatives it could take him several days, maybe weeks, to recover. This is all assuming that I can fix him while he's unconscious, without having to resort to more intrusive methods."

Spy shifted his stance, his hands itching for the lighter in his coat pocket. He resisted it, naturally, but the urge was biting at the tips of his fingers.

"How would you suppose we get him to calm down, hm?" Spy asked.

"He does not recognize anyone or anything. If I could bring his fever down enough for him to regain some lucidity, that would help," Medic said. "As it stands, unless we can present him with something familiar, he will refuse to cooperate. Something his mind will recognize intrinsically, as confused as he is. He believes we are the enemy."

Spy hummed as his response, pretending to be distracted, and hesitated to consider the idea that had begun to brew in his head. "His mother, perhaps?"

Medic shook his head. "Nein. Not realistic. Even if we could get her to the state in a timely manner, by the time she’s gotten through the company's bureaucratic hoops to set foot on base, he might not be lucid enough for it to make any sort of difference. If I allow him to get to that point I may not be able to restore him."

“And if he does get to that point?”

Medic hesitated. He was given no chance to respond.

"Doc! Lad's comin' round."

They both turned. Demo was leaning over Scout's bed, hands primed to grab Scout's arms should he start thrashing again, and Scout was rousing slowly, turning his head, furrowing his face as he came to a no-doubt painful consciousness. 

“We have tried Respawn, and he came out just as sick as before. Respawn cannot save him,” Medic whispered to him, then turned once more to his shelves with his back to his patient.

“No…no, l-let me…s-stop,” Scout moaned out, already pressing up against his restraints and Demoman’s grip.

“Lad- lad, c’mon, stop- stop it!” Demo hissed back, straining to keep Scout on the bed while taking care not to frighten him with shouting. Demo tensed, with gritted teeth, as Scout started to cry.

“Pleas…please, please…l-let m’go… get- let me go!”

“No no no- aye, lad, c’mon. C’mon it’s me. It’s me, it’s Demo, lad.” Demoman leaned in close to Scout’s face. Scout reeled away as far as his head could press into the mattress, chest and shoulders still wracked with suppressed sobs. Even unconscious, Scout couldn’t let anyone see him cry.

“P-P-Papa,” Scout hiccuped. It could’ve almost been any other word, as slurred and warbled as it sounded, but to Spy’s ears it came as clear as the ringing of a church bell.

Spy’s thoughts left through his lips before he stopped to consider them properly.

"Everyone barring the doctor, please step outside," Spy announced. He approached Scout's bed, shooing Demo aside. "Now, would be ideal."

Demo stayed put with stubbornness and clear hesitation, and Engineer looked up to him confused. Medic fixed Spy with a curious look, but said nothing against him.

"Er, doc-"

"You heard the man." Medic was fixing another cold compress, distracted. "It seems Herr Spy will be taking over, Herr Demoman. Everyone, out!"

Scout winced, whimpering on the bed. Demo stepped back slowly and released Scout, though keeping his hand extended, but Spy shooed him again and he made for the door with the Engineer. Neither looked convinced they should leave, but did regardless, and Spy and Medic were the only lucid ones left in the infirmary.

"I should hope you have reason for disposing of my assistants-" began Medic, then cut off by Spy.

"I would prefer this be observed by as few as possible, doctor," said Spy. He slid off his leather gloves and set them on the metal side-table. "Should this even work."

At that moment Scout's eyes opened, glassy and damp, to the ceiling. Spy put his bare hand on Scout's forehead, expecting the flinch that came.

"No, no! Get...g-get off'me! J-Just-!" 

In a single, fluid swipe, Spy tugged his mask off of his head, and brought his face into Scout's line of sight before the struggling could begin. His salt-and-pepper hair was tousled and untidy, though obviously well-groomed, and his olive-toned jaw had a deep shadow indicating days of neglect. He startled Medic badly enough that Medic fumbled with the medicine cup and sent it splattering across the tile, but neither paid it much notice.

"Sois calme, mon lapin," Spy whispered in the most delicate voice he could use. "Sois calme."

Scout froze taut, staring wide-eyed at nothing but the ceiling tiles. Medic watched him, wrapping his prepared compress in a thick towel, and waited.

"P..." Scout murmured, unfocused. His eyes scanned the lines of Spy's face, sluggish, and a dull recognition lit up behind them. "Papa?"

Relief sent Spy slumping over the bed, closer to Scout, and he ran his hand through Scout’s sweat-damp, greasy brown hair. "Oui. I am here, Jeremy. I am here."

Scout said nothing, but his left hand tugged up against his restraints. He seemed surprised when his hand wouldn't move.

"Wh-wh’s…” Spy saw the panic building, and rubbed Scout’s scalp again.

“You are very sick, mon trésor,” Spy explained in simple words. His unoccupied hand made quick work of the soft restraints, and they fell from Scout’s arms to dangle off the sides of the bed. “You are with the doctor. He will take care of you.”

“Oh…” Scout whispered. Scout’s eyes trailed around the room, slow and stuttery, until they found Medic, still standing frozen by his desk. Like melting ice, clarity emerged through Scout’s bleariness, and it manifested in a single word as Scout whispered, “M...Med…?”

It snapped Medic out of the trance he’d fallen into, and he scrambled to put together another cup of medicine and bring it over with his wrapped cold-compress. For a moment he and Spy locked eyes, and Spy recalled that Medic hadn’t seen his face in the years since his initial physical. Politely, Medic didn’t stare. 

“Herr Scout,” Medic uttered, allowing Scout to get his bearings before lifting Scout’s hand and having him hold the small cup. “Drink this.”

“Wh-”

“Fever reducer,” said Medic before Scout attempted to stumble through a question. Distractedly, he placed the compress alongside Spy's gloves on the table, appearing to forget about it. “I will bring you something to ease your sleep, if you will take it this time. And water. You may also need…” Medic trailed off and wandered to his shelves again, muttering under his breath all of the things he could have Scout take while he was conscious.

Spy moved his hand to support Scout’s and helped him guide it to his lips. “Drink this, lapin. You will feel better.”

He could see the hesitance screwing up on Scout’s face, and trusted Scout’s reflexes were too sluggish to resist when he poured it into Scout’s mouth.

“Swallow, Jeremy. Swallow, s’il te plaît.” Spy put his hand over Scout’s mouth when Scout tried to spit it out, foul though it may have been. He kept his hand until he felt Scout swallow. "Ah, Très bien, mon chou.”

“Has he spit it out again?” Medic returned with a glass of water in one hand.

“Non, he’s swallowed it.” Spy swept the sweat from Scout’s forehead. “Water, please?”

“He’s swallowed it?” Medic’s voice held a relief so palpable it was almost suspended in the air. He passed the glass into Spy’s hand. “Truly?”

“Yes.” Spy let silence fall between them and guided the water into Scout’s limp hand, then tilted his head back for him to drink. He took to the water much more readily than the medicine. Once it touched his lips he began to swallow like a man on the verge of death, and Spy had to pull the glass away twice so he wouldn’t choke. “Pace yourself, mon chou.”

“I have not been able to get him to drink anything in days. I would allow him some desperation,” Medic said. He’d removed his glasses, rubbing out the smudges on the edge of his vest. “I do not know how long you’ll wish to stay, but if I may-”

“I’ll stay until the boy can take a drink on his own,” Spy spoke over him, though only giving Medic half of his attention. “Perhaps after, if more problems arise.”

Scout blinked slowly, like a barn owl, and each blink after that was heavier than the last. It didn’t take long for Scout’s eyes to fall shut and for his breathing, though still labored, to come in even strokes. Spy let his hand rest upon the boy’s cheek, and a long-dead warmth that Spy had not experienced in decades washed over him like a baptism.

“This time, mon lapin,” whispered Spy, stroked Scout’s cheekbone, and pulled his hand away.

“Hm?” That was Medic, somewhere by his desk.

“This time,” Spy repeated. “I would like to stay for him.”

~~~

Also I did not edit this so...lol

tanks for reading :)

[c-h-e-r-r-i-e-s]

Dear reader

{Dear reader

If it feels like a trap, you’re already in one

Dear reader

Get out your map, pick somewhere and just run

Dear reader

Burn all the files, desert all your past lives

And if you don't recognize yourself

That means you did it right}

Chuuya paces his office. Back and forth across the plush rug. It’s been over a week since Dazai left the PM and he’s not worried. Dazai can take care of himself but at the same time… - no no. He’s fine. Anxiety takes hold in strange ways.

What do I do? He wonders.

Feet tripping to the suite where he sleeps most nights now. Into the bathroom, where he hangs his head low over the sink. The hot water steaming up around his face.

{Never take advice from someone who's falling apart}

Chuuya stands in the mirror picking at his skin softly. Splashing water on his face before massaging the foamy cleanser into his cheeks. Dragging his index finger into the crease between his cheek and nose. Massaging between his eyebrows.

Rinsing the foam from his face, his eyes meet the reflection again.

Depersonalization is a weird thing while you’re going through it.

Not recognizing yourself after growing so comfortable in your own skin.

Unsure of the hands touching your own face that feels numb.

{Never take advice from someone who's falling apart}

Chuuya picks up a towel and pats his face dry. Mouth hung agape as he stares into the plush white cloud in his hand.

The white towel reminding him of Dazai’s bandages and how the towels at his house were picked out by Dazai and how every single thing in Chuuyas life has been so heavily influenced by outside forces. Who even is he without others?

{Dear reader

Bend when you can, snap when you have to

Dear reader

You don't have to answer, just 'cause they asked you

Dear reader

The greatest of luxuries is your secrets

Dear reader

When you aim at the devil make sure you don't miss}

“I’m gonna kill that mother fucker” He says into the towel. A groan of frustration leaving his lips, followed by an attempt at a calming breath.

{Never take advice from someone who's falling apart

Never take advice from someone who's falling apart}

Shakily he moves to the liquor cabinet where he keeps his favorite wines.

{So I wander through these nights

I prefer hiding in plain sight

My fourth drink in my hand

These desperate prayers of a cursed man

Spilling out to you for free

But darling, darling, please

You wouldn't take my word for it

If you knew who was talking

If you knew where I was walking

To a house, not a home, all alone 'cause nobody's there}

Chuuya sits slumped in a leather club chair. A bourbon glass full of red wine resting in his fist. Head lolled back and eye lids heavy.

A knock raps at the door.

“Yeah?”

Akutagawa enters tentatively, just barely poking his head through. Clearing his throat before he half steps in the room.

“May I join you?”

Chuuya just looks over and nods, a pout on his face. “Want a drink?”

“You know I do not drink that vile filth.. however I will sit”

Akutagawa sits with his back straight in the chair next to Chuuya.

“Why are you here Ryūnosuke ” chuuya slurs out.

“Your despair” he states plainly.

“It’s that bad?” Chuuya makes no moves to look at him now.

“Mori is concerned” Akutagawa says folding his hands in his lap.

Chuuya cringes and swirls the wine in his cup.

The pair sit in silence for a short time. Neither wanting to confirm how much Dazai’s presence meant to them. Neither wanting to say how affected they are now that he is gone.

But Akutagawa folds, “I miss him” lingers in the heavy tension of the air far too long.

“I know” Chuuya says softly. “Me too”

{Where I pace in my pen and

My friends found friends who care

No one sees when you lose

When you're playing solitaire

You should find another guiding light

But I shine so bright}

Just some Chuuya angst based on a Taylor swift song. This has been plaguing my brain for weeks.

@imafraidoftomorrow