#I'm sorry to my tag list I'm not at home so I don't have easy access to it T_T

[typically-untypical]

I was thinking of Loceit in mind, but I guess Roman works too? But polyglot Logan, maybe still tired or sleepy, accidentally ordering in two languages in one sentence. The barista, Janus or Roman, is Intrigued but also amused :-]

You asked for Loceit so I shall give you Loceit.

Seducing the Nerd

Five in the god forsaken morning wasn’t an appropriate time for any sentient being to be awake, at least, that was Janus’ belief. He held that belief very strongly, and yet here he was. Did he really need this job? Did he really need to be standing in front of a cash register for a job he hated? What made things worse was this wasn’t even the beginning of his shift. He had already been here for thirty minutes, setting up the ovens, warming up the coffee maker and brewing the first batch. Who in their right mind would come to a coffee shop this early in the morning, certainly not anyone with an ounce of sense. Then again, he worked in customer service. He was sure he rarely got the chance to meet the mythic customer with sense.

“One coffee and one bagel with… fuck, what’s the word?” The man in front of him looked exhausted and he waved his hand in a floundering motion as if that would somehow get Janus to understand what he meant. “Geléia?” Considering Janus had no idea what that meant, he assumed that wasn’t the word this man was looking for. Apparently the customer knew it too, because he ran a hand through his black hair, looking Janus in the eyes. It was also far too early in the morning for Janus to be feeling this gay. Those blue eyes were beautiful, and Janus did enjoy a man who could speak multiple languages.

“The… the stuff… with fruit. You spread it on a bagel after you put on the cream cheese.” The man sighed and his shoulders dropped in defeat. “Sorry, it’s too early.” Finally, someone who was speaking a bit of sense. 

Janus couldn’t help but snort, grabbing a coffee cup. He wasn’t good at flirting, but he was good at cool condescension with a bit of sweetness. Hopefully that would keep this nerd talking, because Janus was into it. “Do you mean jelly?”

“Yes!” The man snapped and a small smile slid onto his face. “Jelly, I… what language did I even say that in?” His eyes looked a bit off as if he was trying to figure something out, mouthing the word. “Was that Portuguese? I’m… I’m learning Portuguese but that’s not even one of the two languages I speak. I don’t even know how I would know that word.” His smile shifted, something soft and sheepish. Yep, definitely too early for Janus to be catching the gay.

He turned around quick to get the coffee. Janus was happy to listen to the polyglot with wrapped attention as he attempted to figure out how he had managed to forget a word in two languages he spoke but remember it in another he didn’t. It was hard not to laugh, and even harder not to be interested. “We all do strange things this early in the morning,” He said, holding out the cup for the man to take.

“Yes… Yes we do.” The customer looked a bit sheepish at his mistake, but there was still the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out. Fascinating, multiple languages and he still couldn’t find the right words. Janus brushed his fingers across the side of the cup, putting on his best actual smile, not the fake customer service one he normally used. There was a silence between them that spoke volumes, and Janus was far too curious for his own good, but he continued to play it calm and cool, allowing his hand to drop back to the counter. 

“Can I get a name…” He let the silence hang for a few moments, allowing the other man to make his assumptions before Janus continued “for the bagel?”

Logan looked around at the empty shop, eyebrow raised, so Janus wans’t as smooth as he thought, sue him. It was still far too early in the morning. However, the customer nodded, setting the coffee back on the counter as he went to reach for his wallet out of his back pocket. “Logan,” He said, “My name is Logan.”

“Thank you Logan.” Janus wrote the name on one of their paper bags before returning to the cash register. He rung Logan out, taking the payment and the receipt before using his nail to draw a small circle on it. He also wrote a single number at the top. “I’d appreciate it if you took the survey, and here you’ll see that I circled my name. It’s Janus, by the way.”

Logan took the receipt and nodded. He looked down at it quizzically, forming the name silently on his lips before nodding accepting that he… had it memorized? Honestly Janus was just making assumptions at this point, but it felt like a good assumption, and if Logan was trying to memorize his name, that was a good sign too. “And what about this number.” Good, he was asking the important questions. 

Janus shrugged with a little smirk. He had to play it cool, suave, he couldn’t let this man know how the slight quirk of his smile was extremely cute and endearing. “It’s part of our rewards program. If you come six more times while I’m on shift, you’ll get my number.”

Once again the other man raised his eyebrow at Janus’ antics but that stupid little smile was hiding underneath it all. That, Janus could read, it was so obvious, shouting to Janus ‘I know your secrets’. Two could play at that game though. He was about to speak again, ad some little caveat when Logan opened his mouth instead. “Interesting, so I only need to come back six more times until I have the full number?”

“That is correct, but it does have to be while I’m on shift.” None of his coworkers would believe Logan if he came in asking for Janus’ number, which was fine, Janus preferred to keep his private life a secret anyway.

“And do you always work the early shift?” Logan was pulling out his own phone, and Janus could see he was opening up the notes app to type something in. Oh, oh he was seriously going to come back, just to get Janus’ phone number… was he really?

“Everyday except for Tuesdays and Wednesdays.” Janus smiled, if only to hide his nervousness. Logan nodded, looking up at Janus with those eyes that suddenly had a lot more clarity for the early morning hour.

“Noted.” Logan finally smiled and nodded, “I will have to come back every morning then. Seems I might have found a reason to be up this early.” 

Janus was desperate to hide the blush that was forming on his face, desperate to pretend he was still in control of this situation and hadn’t fallen for a set of midnight blue eyes. Swallowing, he nodded, forcing his shoulders to relax as he leaned against the bar ‘nonchalantly’. “Seems like it,” he whispered in a voice he hoped sounded calm and cool.

Logan just smiled and left.

Maybe this job wasn’t so bad.

[minus-plus-zer0]

One Good Grovel

♡ Genre: Fluff (trust me), little crack ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Established relationships

You and Katsuki had your biggest fight in a while.

Both sides fought like they were out for blood. You two said things you shouldn't have, things that were hard to take back. It ended with Bakugou storming out of your shared apartment.

The moment he did, he regretted it. But he didn't know how to go back inside and say it.

Hours later after he came home from doing errands, Bakugou found you on the couch. You hadn't answered any of his texts, and Bakugou never felt so helpless before. He was already losing you fast, and he couldn't dawdle now. Bakugou dumped his groceries on the kitchen counter and then approached you. Neither of you said anything.

You still looked torn up about your earlier argument, your hair a little messy in a way that Bakugou liked. He'd prefer to be the one messing it up himself, but he knew he didn't deserve that privilege now. Bakugou threw an extra blanket over you, because you looked like you needed one.

"Yo," Bakugou said, sitting down beside you on the couch. "How've you been holding up?"

"...I don't wanna talk about it. Not with you."

Your voice was frail, quiet. It broke Bakugou's heart, knowing that he put you in this position.

He had to make it right.

"I'm sorry," Bakugou said. "For everything I said. I wouldn't be surprised if ya never wanted to talk to me ever again after this." You looked at him suspiciously. "It'd kill me if you did, but that's fine. 'Cause I value your feelings over mine. When I was out today, all I could think about was you and what I said to you. So I bought you some gifts and I really hope you'll love 'em."

Bakugou reached out to stroke your hair. "And I promise you, I'll never say that demeaning shit to you ever again. You mean more to me than winning that stupid argument, and I don't know where I'd be in my life without you by my side. I was wrong, okay? I was dead wrong for treating you like that, like anything less than the best. Most of all, I just want ya to take me back and love me. But I won't force ya to do anything. I can walk out that door again and leave you alone if you asked. And if you hate me forever... I understand."

You smiled at him. "...Okay, I hear you."

"...So do ya hate me now?"

You still smiled. "Only a whole bunch. You monster." You playfully punched him in the face.

"Sorry," Bakugou said, matching your sweet expression. "I deserved that. Punch me all ya want. Won't even stop ya."

You gave him several more feather-light punches. "You're soooo dead."

"Ya gonna call the cops on me too? Make sure I never do that shit again? Make sure I learn my lesson instead of forgiving me too easily?"

"Yes." You fluffed his hair. "They're already on their way. The conviction of a famous Pro Hero is gonna be the scandal of a century!"

Bakugou fixed his hair. "Well I'll still love ya, even while in jail."

You crossed your arms. "Only after you've served your 10-year sentence and repent through hours and hours of community service will I finally forgive you. Then you'll be free, we'll start all over, and we'll fall in love again."

"Deal," Bakugou said, kissing your forehead. "But I wanna skip to the end."

"No, that's the easy way out!"

"The hell? You're not actually gonna send me to jail for saying it was wrong to like Pepsi over Coca-Cola, are ya?"

"That's how the roleplay is going!"

"It ain't that serious! I said I was sorry babe! I'm sorry!"

You recalled what you originally fought about quite easily...

"Alright," Bakugou said. "I'm gonna head out for groceries. Any last minute changes to the shopping list?"

"Oh yes!" You rushed out to meet him in the entrance. "Could you get me some Pepsi? Pretty please?"

"What the fuck?" Bakugou looked at you like you grew two heads. "'Pepsi'? You want freaking 'Pepsi'?!"

You shrugged. "...Is that so bad? It'd be nice to have something besides Coca-Cola for once..."

Bakugou's eyes narrowed into slits. He shut the front door and approached you. "I didn't realize we had a freaking problem here. You're telling me I've been buying the wrong soda for you this entire time?!"

"Well... It's just not as good as Pepsi. It's not the same. I'm sorry... but I've always felt this way."

"Since fucking when?! When did things change?" Bakugou slapped a hand over his eyes. "What the hell did I miss?!"

Bakugou couldn't believe this. He thought he knew you better than anyone, just like how you knew him better than anyone. You two were the tightest couple ever. Bakugou had an engagement ring hidden in his dresser because he had already long since decided that what he wanted in life was you.

But now, he didn't feel like he knew you at all.

He'd still marry you though.

You remained silent. Bakugou couldn't stand it. He shook his head, then walked back to the front door, opening it. He stopped before he left, turning to you.

"Coca-Cola is better than Pepsi. That's just a fact."

Then he turned, and left. Instant regret washed over him, but he continued down to the front lobby. As Bakugou looked down upon his cursed shopping list, he couldn't in good conscious buy Coca-Cola anymore. Not when you hated it so much. He had to make things right.

He was getting Dr. Pepper instead.

"This is fucking disgusting, Katsuki," you said, halfway through your delicious can of Dr. Pepper at your dinner table.

"It was on sale, alright?!"

(I've read that a lot of people are unsatisfied with grovels in romance novels because they don't feel that the love interest apologizes well enough, so I wrote this just in case anybody needs one good quick grovel with none of the baggage attached. Btw, my favorite is Coke and it's not even close)

[spookysteddie]

That Friday Night

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader

read part one here

18+ MINORSDNI

cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)

a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!

...

You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it. 

But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees. 

Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’

They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted. 

However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous. 

Or that’s what you kept telling yourself. 

“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!” 

You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?” 

Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.” 

Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers. 

“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.” 

… 

You should’ve changed your mind. 

You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you. 

You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time. 

Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face. 

“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands. 

God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long. 

You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it. 

“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-” 

“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.” 

Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa. 

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!” 

“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels. 

You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?” 

You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus. 

Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus. 

It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.

Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually. 

Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts. 

“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job. 

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that.  The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs. 

“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.” 

His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you. 

Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.” 

He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?” 

You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was. 

Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. 

“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.” 

Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?” 

He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen. 

Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again. 

God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.   

A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet. 

“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening. 

Photos are fine. 

Everyone must be tagged. 

Nothing negative. 

Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar. 

That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines. 

You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?” 

You nod, “y-yeah of course.” 

Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over. 

He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer. 

But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.” 

… 

By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more. 

Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason. 

“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.” 

Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something? 

“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes. 

Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there! 

And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?

Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.” 

You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured. 

“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.” 

“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not? 

“‘Precious babies?’” 

You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.” 

“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne. 

It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him. 

He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan. 

“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.” 

You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”  

He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.” 

Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close. 

“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.” 

You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?” 

“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.” 

“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?” 

“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.” 

You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent. 

He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…” 

The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?” 

So, you do. 

The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name. 

From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times. 

So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos. 

“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music. 

You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.” 

The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care. 

Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back. 

You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him. 

“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him. 

He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.” 

“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.” 

It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you. 

The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door. 

“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes. 

You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.” 

He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?” 

That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.” 

His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top. 

Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you. 

He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right? 

You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center. 

“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone. 

But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid. 

“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.” 

You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.” 

He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans. 

In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No. 

“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.”  He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers. 

You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?” 

You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous. 

But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.” 

“V-very.” 

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!” 

He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.” 

You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.” 

His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”  

You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully. 

“Fuck, Eddie.” 

Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.” 

He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft” 

He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it. 

“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.” 

You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?” 

He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.” 

“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.” 

You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?” 

The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it. 

“Oh god! Please.” 

“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.” 

And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down. 

Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.” 

You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.

“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’ 

“And now… we wait.”

[prettyboykatsuki]

fang i need 119 with yuuta so bad i think my world will collapse if i dont get it

✮  119 + yuuta okkotsu | “do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

✮ tags ; fem!reader (no gendered language. reader is wearing a skirt + blouse and has boobs), femdom, dirty talk, boss yuuta x subordinate reader, some alcohol, premature ejaculation yippeee.

✮ a/n ; don't even rmb what prompt list this is from but here. do not know if this is what u mean anon but this is what i got for u.

Yuuta is not very subtle when leers at you.

You try not to make him anymore self-conscious than need be. He's your superior for one, and for the most part - he's mature, empathetic, and calm. You're fond of him both in general but also as your boss and appeciate his competency when the rest of your team is making your head spin. You'd hate for anyone else to take his place.

He's got a knack for keeping things in order when they're about ready to fall apart.

And he's nice - well loved by women in the office for being handsome and kind and hated by men for being popular with them.

You don't know when it is, exactly, that he starts looking at you in that way. You only know that you don't especially mind.

Yuuta has little tells when he's staring at you during work.

The soft jut of his lips, the mild nerves of his smile, the way his eyes don't stay in the same place when you talk or wear something with the slightest bit of skin. It's weird. Before you noticed this about Yuuta, you never saw him in any sort of way.

He's a nice guy and he's a good boss, but you're not one to crush easily. You like Yuuta as is, and have never considered complicating that on the whims of things like attraction or a passing thought. You don't particularly need to get laid nor are you starving for that sort of attention.

Before you notice, you never have anything but work appropriate thoughts. But after you notice, you think that you really, really want to bully him about it.

When the opportunity presents itself to do that, you do - even though it is a bad idea.

Your boss is pretty cute when he's tipsy. He's also, maybe predictably, easy. It didn't take any amount of pushing to get him to bring you home. One pouty word of concern about going home so late and a little pushing up against his arm and he practically collapses under the pressure. The fact he let you cling to his arm and rub up on him the entire car ride makes you think he's probably letting you do this for one reason or another.

So, it's easy to convince him to take you home. Just like it's easy to convince him to take you inside, to help you on the couch, to get you water, to stay a while or maybe stay the night since the last train is about to go anyway.

This is how you get Yuuta on your couch with his pants unzipped.

"Yuuta-san," Your voice is sing-songy. Normally, you're a touch more careful with this kind of thing but you're not sober enough to bother with it as you slide up next to him. He's flushed pink, wide-eyed. "You look nervous."

"W-we shouldn't," He swallows and looks over at you where you're pressed against his side. Your blouse is unbuttoned, nothing but your pencil "I shouldn't've—"

"Oh, don't be like that. You've been giving me looks for a while now, right? Did you think I didn't notice?"

He looks like a deer caught in headlights. How cute. "I'm very sorry."

"It's okay," You nuzzle up to him softly and he does not bother pushing you away even slightly. "I'm saying I don't mind it. But a little won't hurt right?"

He's stiff as you scoot in as close to him as you can, reaching you over to the front of his slacks. His hard-on, half-mast, betrays his sense of hesitance. You watch as he drops his head back, palm cupping the hard outline with amusement. You lean, lips close to his ear.

"Can't go home like this, Yuuta-san. I'll help you if you say please, okay?"

He looks at you from the corner of his eyes before shutting them. "Please..."

You grin a little. "Good boy."

He lets out a pathetic little whimper that makes the corners of your mouth twitch. Wordlessly, undo the zipper of his slacks - reaching your hand into his waist band and sliding it over his cock. It's hard now, twitching under your touch. Yuuta is sensitive. You're sticking so close to his side you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, the way he's holding it all in.

You pull his length out slowly, spitting into your palm before wrapping your hand around his shaft. His cock is long and pretty. The tip of it is already drooling like you've been touching him for hours, ruddy with need. You stroke him in your hands, feeling for all the veins under his shaft. Holding it and seeing the length and weight. You crass him like that slowly, cupping his balls lightly before jerking him off again.

All of the touch leaves Yuuta gasping. He tries his best not to make any noise, but his voice comes out in a whine anyway. Usually such a gentle, kind of voice - broken and throaty as his dick twitches and leaks helplessly in your hand.

"Yuuta-san, be honest." You hum curiously. "Do you think of me when you touch yourself?"

He makes shameful face, closing his eyes even tighter. "Yes. I'm sorry,"

"Oh, you said it so easily," You reply, amused. "Pervert."

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry - I won't do it again,"

"Instead of touching yourself, isn't this better? Don't you think my pussy will feel good around your cock, Yuuta-san? You can peep as much as you like but that means this is mine for the time being, okay?"

You're barely stroking him hard when you feel him twitch suddenly. Glancing down, you watch as balls tighten - expose stomach flexing it's muscles as Yuuta lets out a loud choked moan. You feel him in your palms - hard, hot cock trembling before it shoots out a thick load of cum into your fingers.

Your eyes widen in mild surprised as you watch him squirm, chasing the high with his hips - aimlessly fucking into the little hole made by your hand. He can't stop cumming. It's drenching your fingers, making them sticky as you stroke him through it.

He finishes with his chest heaving, still cumming in little spurts. You can't help but giggle at how whiny he is.

"Didn't think you were such a quick shot, Yuuta-san." Before he can respond, you bring your fingers up to your mouth and lick the cum off. "Not bad."

He stares at you jaw dropped, looking so embarrassed he could die. You think he looks a little cute like that.

"Oh, it's already up again," You smile, watching him go half hard so quickly. His blush deepens. "Since you were honest, guess I should let you fuck me forreal."

He looks at you with wide, wet eyes and pouty lips. Yes, you know the look well by now.

He takes a deep breath and stares at you longingly.

"...Please."

[russellsppttemplates]

All the milestones (Lando Norris)

Fraser came earthside earlier than you expected

Note: english is not my first language. Believe it or not, I'm also a preemie (genetically and health wise, I am a catch, I know). Jokes aside as this is a serious topic, I was born at thirty three weeks because of some complications and it all turned out well, but I am aware of what it entailed from people telling me and it isn't something I've seen around here! Knowing that the diversity I write brings comfort to read and to ask this warms my heart up so much 🫶 I'm also basing this off of my mum's experience!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions c-section and themes related to hospital stays and procedures, prematurity, pre-eclampsia

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"I'm really sorry I can't go with you, darling", Lando apoligised as he set the plate with lunch in front of you, "it's okay, it's just an ultrasound", you responded, "we're just going to check if everything is alright with you, right, little one?", you tapped your babybump softly. At thirty weeks pregnant, you were starting to feel the tiredness and aches like you had felt in your previous pregnancy, only now you had a toddler to look after as well, so you had been taking it easy. Fortunately, you were able to juggle work and family life in a way that allowed you to make the minimum compromise to both spheres of your life.

"Drink your water, baby", Lando reminded you, tapping the jug, "I'm going to pick up my dad from the airport and then we'll both get Tilly. Are you feeling like going out for dinner or should I get take out and we eat here?", he questioned, taking a bite of his food.

"I'd prefer to stay in", you stated, "are you feeling like anything special?", he asked back.

"Right now I can't think of anything", you offered, not really looking forward to eating the delicious food in front of you if you were really being honest. Still, you manage to eat the most of it.

"Have a good meeting, Lan, I love you", you said as you put your coat on, grabbing your bag with all your documents.

"Be safe, okay, baby?", he checked, kissing the top of your head and then kissing your baby bump, "and you too, buddy, keep yourself and mummy safe and sound, don't give her too much trouble", he said, helping you out of the door before you went on your separate ways, "I love you, gorgeous mummy!", he winked before he got inside his car.

Once you arrived at the hospital and checked yourself in, your midwife Amelia greeted you in the examination room, "how have you been feeling, Y/N?", she asked as she slipped the bad on your arm to get your blood pressure numbers, sending the urine sample to the lab.

"I've been feeling a little tired, especially compared to last time, which I can only put down to having Tilly, and she's a very calm child", you giggled, remaining quiet as the machine got your numbers.

"These look quite high, did you run up here?", she asked, "no, I got here earlier than I expected actually, I've been sitting on the waiting room for a bit", you scrunched your face.

"We'll just wait for your results and then we'll see if it's something we have to wordy about", she tranquilized, "let's see you baby boy, shall we?", she smiled as you lifted your shirt, letting her apply the cream and move the wand around.

"There's your son, Y/N", she smiled, "He's a bit quiet, but the heartbeat sounds good", she smiled, taking a few more pictures so you could bring them home for Lando and Matilda to see.

A knock on the door alerted you both as Amelia was taking your measurements, "I have the results for Y/N Y/L/N-Norris", your OB checked, seeing you in the room, "Hi, Y/N, I thought I'd only see you later", she said as she walked in. She pulled on a stool and sat on it, "your results are indicating that you might be in pre-eclampsia", she said as she showed the tablet's screen to Amelia, her stern expression confirming your suspicions on how serious the situation was, "your body is having trouble keeping up with everything, hence your high blood pressure and your urine results suggest your kidneys are working overtime as well", Dr. Martin said as you straightened up, hands coming to wrap around your baby bump protectively, "your baby is fine, so that's not a big worry, but we do think it would be best if we delivered him tonight", she advised.

"But he's too small", you argued.

"You're at thirty weeks, which isn't ideal, but the survival rate is very very high for babies born at this time, and we also have a team that is specialised in preemie care, so he will be in the best hands", she comforted, "we need to give you corticosteroids to make sure the baby's lungs are ready for when he comes earthside, we'll get you admitted and monitor you and the baby to make sure he's not struggling either. In a few days, depending on how this goes, we'll do a c-section. I know it's not ideal, but this is the best way to make sure you and baby boy stay safe".

Sighing, you nodded, "okay, whatever is best for both of us", you asserted, "I just need to call Lando - my father in-law is coming to stay for a bit and they're getting Matilda from school", you thought out loud.

"Absolutely, dear, everything is going to be just fine", Amelia conforted while Dr. Martin set you up to go to a room.

Lando helped Matilda up to her car seat, strapping her in as she spoke to his father, "and did you have a good day, princess?", Adam asked, "yes, we coloured lots and we saw a couple of butterflies when we were having our snack!", she smiled as Lando drove home.

The car system alerted them of a call from you, "hey, beautiful, I'm in the car with my father and Tilly - say hi to mummy, babygirl!", he encouraged, "Hi, mummy!", she cheered, "Hey Y/N", Adam greeted too.

"Hey, guys! Lando, can you give the phone to your dad, please?", you asked, "sure, love", he said as he disconnected the phone from the car, nodding his father to take the phone in the console.

"Hey, Y/N, is everything alright?", Adam asked over the phone, "Hey, Adam, I hope you travelled well! I'm not sure if Lando told you, but I had an appointment today, and it turns out I have to be admitted", you began, "I don't want to worry him, much less when he's driving, so as soon as you get home, can you tell him to call me back again, please? Baby Fraser might join us sooner than we expected", you mumbled, nerves obvious in your voice as Adam stayed with a neutral face.

"Absolutely, Y/N, I'll let him know", he said before hanging up.

"What was it? Is everything alright?", Lando asked, knowing there would be a reason as to why you didn't want to have everyone listening to the conversation.

Checking the rearview mirror to see Matilda playing with one of her books, Adam clarified Lando, "she is going to stay at the hospital for a little longer than she expected for some check ups, she didn't want Matilda to hear about it", he said. It wasn't too much of a lie, and he certainly didn't want to scare anyone and since Lando would be calling you anyway, it could wait for a bit, "she asked you to call her when you got home. Don't worry, I'll keep Matilda entertained", he smiled.

Once they arrived, Adam left his things in the guest bedroom and met Matilda in the kuchen, "grandpa will make you some snacks. What do you want, darling?", he asked as he urged Lando to go and make a call to you.

"Hi, baby", Lando said as you picked up, "dad said you wanted me to call you, is everything alright?", he asked as he stepped inside the bedroom, hanging his coat in the closet.

"Hi, my love", you sighed and sending Lando into alert, "when they did my check up, Amelia took my blood pressure and it was really high, and my urine sample didn't look great either. It turns out I'm in pre-eclampsia and they want to keep me for observation, and it's likely Fraser will join us in the next few days", you added, "I need you here -, and things for me", you let out.

"Are you okay? I'll start packing right away", he said as he put his phone on speaker, looking for pyjamas and toiletries.

"My blood pressure is high - so far there's no distress for the baby, and they want to keep him in for as long as they can", you explained, "I, I am fine staying here on my own, that's okay, but I really need you here for a bit", you asked, "of course, my love. I'm going to pack these up quick and I'll be there. I love you", he said before you said it back, putting his phone in his pocket and zipping the bag.

"Daddy, where are you going?", Matilda asked as she saw the bag, "princess, mummy is going to stay in the hospital for a bit so the doctors can make sure her and baby are okay, and daddy is going to take a few things for her", he announced, crouching down so he was at her level.

"Is mummy sick?", she pouted, "she's a little tired, so they're going to make sure she rests up as much as she can", he slipped out, "I'm going to be there for a little bit to giver her her pyjamas so she's comfy, and then I'll be right back, okay? Can you stay here with grandpa?", he asked.

"Okay, daddy", she said before walking away, "but wait!", she called from the hall.

"I'll get dinner started and tuck her in if it gets too late - she didn't want me to tell you until you were home", he apoligised, "I know, I know, thanks for being here, it was bloody good timing", Lando mused.

Matilda came back with one of her stuffed toys, a McLaren bear she loved, "this is for mummy, so she doesn't sleep alone", she smiled sweetly. Maybe her innocence was positive because it meant she was dealing with the situation quite well.

"I'll give it to mummy, baby girl, I bet she'll love it", he smiled, kissing her cheek and leaving to the garage so he could drive to the hospital.

When he arrived, Amelia walked up with him as she told you all there was to know, knocking on your room door before they stepped inside.

"Darling", he said, setting the bag down and sitting next to you on the bed, kissing your forehead protectively, "how are you?", he asked.

"Fine, although I don't think it has really sunk in", you mumbled, playing with his fingers, "how is Tilly?", you wondered.

"She gave you Mr. Brown", he said as he fished out the bear from the bag, "she said she wanted you to have it so you wouldn't be alone in here", he smiled.

After spending as much time as he could with you, he bid you goodbye and went home, finding his father washing up the dishes as Matilda got her pyjamas on for the night, "I have a tupperware for you in the fridge if you want something to eat".

"Thanks, I've got it from here though - c'mon, little miss, we're going to sleep!", Lando hoisted her up, holding her on his hip as they walked upstairs to the bedroom, "can I sleep in your bed, daddy?", Matilda spoke in a small voice, "I don't want you to be alone either", she admitted.

Smiling at her sweetness, he nodded, "of course you can, love. Mummy sent her goodnight wishes for you, and maybe we can visit her tomorrow, how does that sound?", he smiled, "yes, please, daddy!".

.

"I made these for you, mummy, so your room is nice and colourful!", Matilda smiled as Lando let you in for a cuddle, your little girl getting help from her grandfather at ripping the tape so she could display her drawings she brought you almost daily, only missing days where Landk hadn't been able to bring her to the hospital because of their schedules.

"That's beautiful, darling, thank you so much", you gushed before turning to Lando, "has she cried again?", you whispered. You had been in the hospital for five days now, and two nights ago Matilda started with what was a tantrum at first and then evolved to crying about the fact that you weren't home. Lando was able to talk it out with her, welcoming her and allowing her to talk about how she was feeling and how it was beyond the fact that her tights were itching her.

"No, yesterday she told me she couldn't wait for you to come home, and that you were taking longer than she liked", he snickered, "always little miss rushing when it comes to you", he kissed the side of your head. Even though she was a daddy's girl through and through, she never made you feel left out.

"Y/N", Dr. Martin called after she stepped inside the room, "Oh, Matilda, you're so grown up already! Time flies by", she said as she waved at your little girl while Adam pulled her to sit on his lap, whispering "That's mummy's doctor, she is going to check up on her so you have to keep quiet, okay?" into her ear.

"I was checking your results, and I think between tonight and tomorrow, we might have to deliver your baby boy", she stated, everyone in the room straightening up as Matilda tried to read the adults' faces.

"His lungs look really good in the ultrasound we did this morning - as you know those were our biggest concerns, so we'll come up to monitor you, okay?", she rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before excusing herself.

"Well, I think it's best if we get going, then", Adam said as he got up, coming up to kiss the top of your head and squeeze your hand in his.

"Mummy, I know you're going to do very well", she said, earning small giggles around the room, "when can I come and meet the baby?", she stepped up to give you a kiss.

"We will have to see how it all goes, princess, but when you can, you'll be the first to come, okay?", you smiled, brushing the curls out of her eyes and kissing her head.

"I'll drop these guys home, get the baby bag and then I'll be back", Lando said, kissing your lips and your baby bump, "you stay in there for just a little longer, okay buddy?".

By the time Lando got back to the hospital, you had already been given a few medications to prep you for the c-section, "Kelly and Max advised that I shopped for some smaller clothes, so I have those in there", he tapped the baby bag, "and how are you feeling?", he cupped your cheek.

"My blood pressure is really high, so they're thinking about putting me under, like, full body anesthesia", you bit your lip. Getting surgery was already a big thing, but being completely under was another.

"Oh, okay", Lando gulped, "they won't let me be in there then", he realised, "that's not how we wanted this to happen, but it's going to be okay, gorgeous. You're the strongest woman I know, you're going to be just fine", he smiled, "and our baby boy will come out screaming and he will be the strongest little one ever", he said, trying to convince you and himself of his words. He was scared too, but it wouldn't do you both any good to dwell on it too much.

Knocking on the door, one of the lovely interns and Amelia came to get you, "are we all ready? I'm afraid you already know this, Lando, but you won't, be able to be with us in the OR", she apoligised, "I'll wait right here, if that's okay", your husband suggested, kissing you one last time before they wheeled you off, "I love you, Y/N", he muttered against your lips.

While he waited, he looked at the drawings in the room with precise attention, finding one where Matilda drew the four of you, her brother in your arms and Lando holding her hand, names scribbled under each person in Adam's writing.

Less than an hour later, Amelia stepped into the room, Lando getting up from his spot on the chair immediately, "everything went well, they were weaning Y/N off of the anesthesia, she's going to the PACU until she wakes up and then back here", she smiled, "your little boy is in the neonatal unit, do you want to come and meet him?", she asked, Lando letting out a sigh of relief at her words, "I'll let you know when Y/N comes back to the room", she ensured, having been in the job long enough to know the dilemma of wanting to be in two places at the same time.

"Yes, let's go", he said as he straightened up his sweater, "can I hug you?", he allowed himself to feel emotional, Amelia's open arms offering him a little comfort, "they're both alright, Lando, you have such a beautiful family", she cooed.

Walking with him to the neonatal care unit, she helped him into one of the gowns as they greeted the other parents inside along with all of the staff, "this is your little boy", she said, offering him a sanitizer for his hands, "he can't eat on his own just yet, so that single tube on his nose is feeding him, the other one is giving him oxygen, and those stickers are to make sure his heart is doing okay - little milestones and little victories", she explained as Lando took him in.

Surely, he was much smaller than Matilda, but he could already spot some similarities, "Can I touch him?", he asked, weary of disturbing the perfectly architected environment inside the incubator, "yes, of course! Just be mindful of the wires and tubes", she encouraged, opening the little doors so Lando could touch your son.

"Hey, buddy", he spoke as he touched his tiny fingers, "you're already such a fighter, breathing so well without ventilation", he cooed. He looked up all the complications and when he didn't see a mechanical ventilator, he couldn't help but feel proud of the baby, "he is, we did all the tests and for now supplemental oxygen seems to be enough", Dr. Martin said softly, not wanting to spook them as she showed up, "everything went well with Y/N, she should make a full recovery once it heals", she rubbed his back.

"Thank you", he said, keeping the tears at bay as he looked back at Fraser, "you're so tiny they had to roll up your diaper, hm little love?", he spoke, "there are so many people who love you and they have so much of it to give you".

A little while later, Amelia told him they were taking you up to your room, so Lando said goodbye to Fraser, "I'm going to see mummy, Fraser, and I'm going to tell her how much of a higher you are, I love you", he cooed one last time, rubbing his arm before taking his hands away, closing the little doors and folding the gown for later.

Walking into the corridor to your room, Lando could spot you in the other end, smiling as you spotted him too, "nearly beat you in this race", you smiled at him as he gestured for them to wheel you into the room, "everything went as expected, Dr. Martin will be up shortly to speak to you two", one of the interns said.

"How are you feeling, gorgeous?", he said, brushing your hair away from your eyes and behind your ears, "I'm fine, the meds are helping with the pain, I'm sure", you giggled, "they gave me a good dose".

"That's nice, at least", he said, "I've texted everyone to let them know you were okay and everything went well", he added.

"Have you seen him yet?", you asked, "yes, I have", Lando beamed, "He's very tiny and he looks a little bit like Tilly already. And he's such a fighter, too! He only had those little pin-like tubes to help him breathe, they didn't need any incisions or anything. I would've taken a picture but I couldn't take my hands away from him", he admitted.

"Hopefully soon I can see him", you gulped, knowing it would off the books for a bit since you had abdominal surgery.

"All in due course, baby. I'm so happy you're both fine", he kissed your forehead.

.

"I just want to hold my baby!", you hiccuped, wiping the tears falling on your cheeks while Amelia conforted you, "just one more day, Y/N, maybe two at maximum to make sure you're healing well, too", she smiled apologetically.

A knock on the door alerted you as Lando and Matilda walked inside, making you wipe your cheeks quickly, "mummy!", she cheered softly, approaching you and climbing on the bed softly since she knew you were healing, "have you been crying, mummy?", she said, hugging your arm and resting her head there.

"Mummy is upset because I can't go and see Fraser today", you explained as Lando kissed the top of your head.

Amelia excused herself as you caught up with everything back home, "grandpa asked me to give you kisses", Matilda recalled as she kissed your cheeks, "his plane has landed alresdy", Lando added, "That's nice of him, thank you darling".

"We can go and meet Fraser, Tilly", Lando said as the window they allowed visitors in was coming to the half-time mark, "I'm going to give him loads of kisses from you mummy, don't worry about it!", your daughter said sweetly as she climbed off the bed, "I'm going to try and FaceTime, okay?", Lando confirmed, handing you your phone before they left for the neonatal unit.

"Matilda, darling, you have to put this on, okay?", one of the nurses gave her a mask, "she's in nursery and she might have caught some bug that isn't showing symptoms yet and it could be harmful for the babies", he checked with Lando as your husband nodded.

"It's like a costume, Tilly!", Lando tried to make it fun for her, adjusting the gown and then the mask around her face, "you can't go around touching things, okay princess?", he stated as she nodded, ready to meet her little brother.

Lando got himself gowned and led them to Fraser's incubator, "that is Fraser, baby", he cooed, typing on his phone inside the clear bag and FaceTiming you like he promised so you too could see the moment they met for the first time.

"He's so tiny", she gasped, standing on the stepping stool so she could see him properly, "I can't kiss him, can I?", she asked and Lando shook his head, watching you smile on the screen, "I'm going to blow him the kisses I have from mummy then", she said, her hand making the movements from her covered mouth to her brother, "I love you, Fraser, and mummy loves you too, she can't be getting because her tummy still hurts a little", she told him.

"This just makes you want to have another right away, doesn't it?", Lando croaked out as he wiped a tear from his eye, your wide eyes looking at him, "not anywhere in the near future - my body knows that much!", you giggled at the soft sight, "but it is incredibly cute, yes", you smiled as tears fell on your cheeks too.

"Look, mummy! He moved his hand, he's saying hello to you", Matilda smiled, "He's saying he wants to see you, too!".

.

You were finally able to stand up and sit in a wheelchair, so your other goal for the day was going to see your son.

Amelia was the first to say she would take you, helping you sit and getting you there, "That's your little boy right there", she pointed as you were filled with giddiness and excitement.

Wheeling you to face plastic bassinet, your hand went straight inside, "he doesn't need oxygen anymore?", you asked his doctor, noticing the single tube you recognised as a feeding tube, "no, not anymore", he said, "we ran some tests this morning and he's doing just fine on his own, strong set of lungs he has! He woke two of the other babies up yesterday", he smiled.

Chuckling, you touched his arm softly, his hands opening and closing, "do you want to hold him?", he asked, catching you by surprise. Until now, no one ever held him as to make sure the treatments being done were working as best as they could.

"Can I?", you asked, eyes hopeful, "me and the rest of the team think he's finally strong enough to move out of here actually", he added, "not enough to go home just yet, but he can be in your room. This way you can have him close to you and of anything happens or you need help, the staff in your floor know what to do. He just needs to be able to feed without a pump, so either breastfeeding or bottle feeding", he stated.

"Wow, okay, I wasn't expecting this, I was so happy that I got to see him", you teared up, bringing your arms to position so the doctor could place your baby in your arms, mindful of the feeding tube that was still in him, "hey, my love", you cooed, touching his cheeks, "I'm your mummy. I know you were rushed out of my tummy, and it was scary for both of us, but it's looking up now", you cried, Amelia wiping your cheeks as she smiled too.

"Do you mind if we take his tube out now? Might be a little better for this little guy to be in his mummy's chest", the doctor suggested, getting the supplies he needed and setting them in the tray.

"It's okay, little guy", he said as he pulled it out, baby Fraser crying at the discomfort you could only imagine as you rubbed his back, "it's okay, my love, mummy's here to make it better", you shushed him, kissing his head multiple times.

"There, all done!", the doctor said, "if you want, you can feed him here or in your room, where you feel best", he wondered, "could we go to the room, please? I have my supplies there, too", you asked.

You had been pumping milk out since it came in, and you were finally able to feed him straight from your nipple, "okay, little one, you can't get lazy on us now that mummy has you in her room", Amelia encouraged, tapping his cheek slightly as he began suckling on your nipple, "there we go!", she cheered, "I told you it would get better, didn't I?", she winked at you.

When Lando and Matilda came for their daily visit, they didn't expect to see you walking around the room, your back facing the door, "you're up, mummy, that's good!", your daughter said as you turned around, showing her brother on your chest, "oh", she gasped.

"He passed all his tests, and he's getting chubby too", you cooed, squishing his thigh softly as Lando took the sight in, Matilda holding onto you as you patted her head and held your son. Your family was complete.

"That's daddy, Fraser", you cooed, pointing at Lando as your baby boy looked around to the two new people in the room.

"Can I have a cuddle?", Lando whispered before you transferred Fraser to his arms, your little boy curling up against him just like he had been curled up to you.

"Does this mean you get to go home?", Matilda asked, hugging you properly as you sat down on the bed with her, "not for a few days still, they just need to make sure Fraser is alright", you informed, "then we can go home and the four of us are going to have loads of fun", you smiled.

.

"Tilly, can you help me here, please?", Lando called as her footsteps approached your bedroom, "can you get me that bedding from the drawer, please?", Lando asked as he held the mattres up, not wanting to miss the exact placement of the sheet, "thank you, baby, you're such a clever girl", he complimented, folding the corner in and letting the mattress fall back into place.

"When mummy comes home tonight, is Fraser coming with her?", she wondered, touching the next to me bassinet you kept in your room for the baby to sleep in the first few months, "yes, he is, he's finally good and big enough to come home, no more hospital visits", Lando sighed. The last couple of weeks were hard. Juggling things on his own made him even more appreciative of you and the efforts you made to make sure everything was smoothly running in the house, as well of your friends and family who suported your family in every way they could.

"That's going to be nice, the hospital smells funny", she scrunched up her nose, "and it's going to be like before but with baby Fraser?", she wondered.

"At first mummy will need our help in many things - she still has some recovery to do, but then it will be back to normal, yes", Lando offered, "and we'll have Fraser to go with us in our adventures".

"I can't wait to show him my soft blankets and my toys", she beamed, helping Lando with the bed and then getting ready to pick you up from the hospital.

"Thank you again for all of your work and dedication, we truly can't say it enough for all you've done for our family", Lando said to the team as they discharged you from the hospital, waving at Fraser in his carrier as he looked around.

By the time the four of you were back home, you ate dinner on the sofa, Matilda cuddled up to your side while Fraser slept in your chest, Lando holding the four of you in his embrace as much a she could, "we're finally all together", you smiled, "the Norris family is all together in one place we it should be", he said, kissing your lips softly, hand coming to rest on top of yours in Fraser's back as Matilda smiled up at you, "this is the best day ever", she murmured.

Post partum blurb

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blurred Lines 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: double chapter day! Thank you to @alicedopey for the ask! I see you girl.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Cotton drags over tinted skin, flecks it red catching along with the new blood trickling from the split. A hiss passes through clenched teeth despite your gentleness. The act reminds you of when your daughter was only six, crying over a scraped knee as you covered it with a Spongebob bandaid. You don't have any of the yellow strips now, just the roll of gauze and medical tape.

"Ah," Nick clenches his jaw again.

"Sorry," you murmur, "it needs pressure."

You push your thumb against the cotton and he winces, forcing a smile as he crackles out a chuckle.

"I can handle it, honey," he assures you as you hold the cotton above his brow, his other brilliant eye looking up at you. "Just like you handle me so well."

You don't respond. Your boss is a mercurial man. One moment, charming, the next rigid and ignitable. You've learned it's better to just go along with whatever mood he's chosen.

"Other guy looks worse," he remarks as you lift the cotton.

You nod, "I'm sure, sir."

He laughs again, closing his eyes with a sigh. He sits reclined in one of the leather armchair, his head tilted as you tend to him. It's after midnight. You're supposed to be at home sleeping. Your daughter's coming back from college for the weekend, you planned on brunch.

You sift out the box of slender steri-strips and bend over him, carefully sealing the gash above his brow. He's a handsome man. Objectively, you must admit it. Dangerous, too, but you don't wonder about the cuts and bruises. He has a shining badge that tells you more than enough.

"Hands of a goddess," he purrs as he opens his other eye again.

You stand and gather up the waste, packing away the medkit. You thank him plainly and fight the urge to look at the clock. You wad up the used gauze in your fist.

"Sir, is there anything else tonight?"

He lifts his head, both eyes on you now. He considers you as he sits straight and grips his knees. He stands and shrugs, spinning on his heel and striding to the mirror hung on the wall, just above the low table decorated with brass and oak.

"Did I interrupt you?" He asks as he checks his reflection. His left cheekbone is purpled and scraped.

"No, I was only sleeping," you say. You try not to let on that it doesn't come easy or often for you. It's not his concern.

"Mmm," he squints at himself and winces as it tugs at his wound. "Well, you can find an extra room here, drive back in the morning."

"That's kind, sir, but I'm okay," you back up, "I'll clean this up and go if there's nothing else."

"You'll just be back tomorrow," he turns and crosses his arms.

"Um, it's my day off, sir."

He clicks his tongue and nods, "forgot."

You force a small smile. No big deal.

"Got big plans then?"

You hesitate. He doesn't usually ask. You shake your head. You don't think he really cares.

"Would you like some scotch before I go then?"

He inhales, chest rising deeply before falling again. He drops his arms and slips his hands into his pockets. One tail of his shirt is untucked and his jacket is splotched with dark stains. He is sauvely unkempt.

"Sure," he grumbles as he paces before the artificial fireplace.

You dip your chin and leave him. You toss away the garbage and tuck away the kit. You wash your hands before you return to the den and take the thick-bodied decanter from the cabinet. He stands with one hand on the mantle as he stares at the floor.

You pour him a glass and bring it to him. He accepts it without looking up. You ask him if he wants the rest left out for him. He says it doesn't matter.

You bid him good night as he resumes his pensive trance. The adrenaline slakes away and now he's coming down. He'll be in for a good sleep, a lot better than your own. You'll be lucky to get a few hours before you're due to meet Josephine.

🥃

You smile across at your daughter. Every time you see her, she seems more grown up than the last. She has a pretty flower pin in her hair and her lips are glossed the perfect shade of rose. She reminds you of your age, both in a good way and a bad way.

You don't fail to notice the other looks in Josephine's direction. Joey, she corrected you when you picked her up. The changes in her make you feel stagnant. You suppose that comes with age too. You're done blossoming, you only have the wilting ahead of you.

"So, exciting," you say as you pinch the stem of your glass, a pair of mimosas between you as you await your entrees, "you got an internship."

"Um, yeah, it's not bad," she pushes her shoulders up, "my boss is okay, I guess."

"That's good, most bosses don't earn much more than 'eh' as a rating," you kid, "sorry, kiddo."

"Mom," she warns.

"I know, sorry," you correct yourself, "I'll try not to do it again."

You remember being her age. Caught in between adulthood and childhood, not wanting to be reminded of the latter.

"It's fine," she sighs, "I just... I'm trying to be a grown-up, you know?"

"Oh, you've got lots of time for that, Miss Lawyer," you trill, "you are very grown up. You know that, don't you? I'm so proud of you."

"Still got a far way to go," she sips from her own glass. You couldn't have ever imagined your daughter with prosecco sparkling in her hand, but there she is. You almost can't believe she's yours. "Let's talk about you. That's a lot less stressful."

"Ha, but boring," you roll your eyes. "You know, same old."

"Oh, trust, I could tell by the dark circles."

"Oof, you did not," you cackle, "Josephine-- Joey."

"You should try some vitamin C cream--"

"Don't," you warn her with a point across the table.

She giggles and her eyes flit around. There's something else. Something she's not telling you. But she wants to.

"What's going on?" you prompt.

"This is such a nice place," she looks at the table and fidgets, "thanks for breakfast, mom..."

"But..." you add on.

"I... hate to ask but..."

"You need money," you utter, "that's okay. We can make it work. What's it for?"

"Books," she says, "I kinda ran out before I could buy them all, so..."

"That's okay. I'll see if I can't get a few extra hours at work then."

As if he could hear the very allusion to his existence, your phone flashes with a private caller. It's Nick. It's only ever him. You flip the phone down to hid the call.

"Take it," your daughter insists, "it's fine."

"No, it isn't. It's my day off. It's our day," you say, "it can wait."

She smiles. She's so pretty. You can't help but feel inadequate next to her; your own daughter. She's young and vibrant and you're wearing a blouse you bought a decade ago that squeezes your middle a bit too tight.

"Like I said, I'm boring," you sit forward, "tell me about the good stuff. The juicy stuff. Any boys-- or, men?"

"Mom," she snipes.

"What? I gotta live vicariously through you."

She rolls her eyes, "no."

You laugh. You always loved teasing her. She's hard-nosed and too focused to worry about the piddly troubles caused by boys. Or...

"Any girls?"

She looks at you with fire in her eyes. Ah, that's it.

"What's her name?" You goad.

"No, it's nothing. We're not even-- I mean, there's no one," she takes another gulp of her mimosa.

"Sureeee," you drag out the word teasingly, "how many more of those to spill?"

"Enough," she warns, "what about you, huh? You seeing anyone besides your soap operas?"

Now it's your turn to frown, "no," you answer evenly, "I... don't think that's in the cards for me, honey."

"Mom, it's okay," she softens her voice, "dad wouldn't... he would want you to be happy."

"Mm, he would, but he was my happy," you bat your lashes against the singeing heat. "I'm okay, really."

"You deserve someone," she says. "You don't have to be alone."

"I am alone, doesn't mean I'm lonely," you deflect. "Anyway, let's enjoy this. I don't get enough of you."

"Alright, twist my arm, I'll settle for free mimosas and a breakfast bowl," she gives a snarky grin.

You smile. She's the hope you have left. You hope that she never goes through the same pain again. One loss is enough for both of you.

🥃

Joey orders and Uber and you sidle in next to her. You clutch your phone over your purse as the haze of the mimosas fogs in your vision. You may have indulged a bit much.

Your phone shines and you look down. 'Private'.

"I see what you mean about bosses," Joey chides.

"It's not-- not a big deal," you dismiss the call.

"Mom, maybe it's an emergency," she sniffs, "he's been calling a lot."

"He's an adult, I just sweep up his crumbs," you wave her off.

Your phone lights up once more. You're starting to get paranoid. Still, you have to maintain boundaries. Today is your day off.

You exhale and sit back. You watch the city smear by and yawn. The restless night tingles on your eyelids.

Finally, you get to your apartment and slump out of the Uber. You stop as Joey helps you tip the driver with the app and you carry on into the lobby of your building. The feeling of the world passing you by lingers beyond the car ride.

Upstairs, you get Joey settled into the room you haven't changed since she left. She puts her bag on the bed and hangs out in the living room as you put on a pot of coffee. It's too early to be this tipsy. You yawn and your phone once more comes to life.

You swipe it up and tell Joey to help herself to the coffee as you sweep out of the room. You head down the hall and step into your bedroom as you answer, "Mr. Fowler."

"You're busy?" Nick asks.

"It's my day off," you say firmly.

"Yes, we talked about that."

You're quiet. Confused. You try to recall the last time he bothered you outside of work. When you're not being paid for it, you never really hear from him.

"Is something going--" you stop and suppress a hiccup. It's more dehydration than the alcohol. "On?"

"I have guests coming," he says, "thought you might like some overtime."

"Oh, sir, I'm sorry, but--"

"Clearly you're disposed," he says tersely. Is he mad?

"I wasn't expecting--"

"It's fine. It was an offer. I can manage on my own."

"Of course, sir, I wouldn't--"

You flinch as the line cuts and the call goes dead with a bloop. You pull the phone away from your face and furrow your brow. Really? He hung up on you.

You toss your phone on the bed. Whatever. Forget him. Even if you weren't three glasses deep, you wouldn't leave Joey just to kowtow to his pretentious friends.

[captainlunaxmen]

Panic 2.0

Chapter 1

Dodge Mason x fem!reader x Ray Hall

This is a rewriting of my old series on @lunamadhatter99, I decided to rewrite it because the series wasn't completed, and I didn't like it that much anymore.

Let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged in the next chapters.❤️❤️❤️

Chapter summary: graduation day!

Chapter warnings: none.

Tag list.

@stuckinthesmalldoor @once-upon-an-imagine

@idontevenknow1359

Relief is all I feel right now in the auditorium, waiting for Graduation to begin. I patiently sit with the other students waiting for my name yo be called, next to me my closest friends: Natalie, Heather and Bishop. I look behind me, a few rows behind I spot the new guy, Dodge Mason. I gently smile at him and he smiles back, we bonded a lot since he arrived last year, which is something that makes me proud, since he's not known for being the most open person here.

Graduation is the first step out of here, out of Carp, Texas, which all of us call the capital of Nothing.

The second step would be the local summer game: Panic. It's easy to explain Panic: you play and if you win, you're out of here. What's the catch? It's in the name, Panic, the challenges aren't exactly children friendly.

And, funny enough, the game has one simple rule: do not panic.

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

"Is your aunt coming?" Heather asks me as we walk out of the building. Natalie and Bishop being congratulated by their families.

"Nah... I didn't even get a text, I don't think she will show up." I shrug, "what about your mother?"

Right before she could answer a sweet little voice calls Heather's name.

"They're here." She smiles, almost apologetically to which I respond with a reassuring smile.

"Guess I'll see you tonight." I chuckle.

"You don't have much of a choice." She laughs walking off.

I dare to take a look around for my aunt, but as expected, no one in sight.

"Congratulations, Y/n." I turn around seeing Natalie with his father walking to get their picture taken.

"Thank you, officer!" I wave at him and Natalie and start to walk off too.

I take just a few steps before another voice calls for me.

"Y/n!"

I turn around once again, watching Jessica, Dodge's mother, walking towards me with Dodge next to her.

"Hi, Jessica." I smile, warmly at her.

"Congratulations, sweetheart." She hugs me tightly once sheclose enough, Dodge sends me and apologetic yet amused smile.

"Thank you." I say pulling away, "so nice to be finally done." I laugh.

"I bet." She smiles brightly, I notice her looking around.

"She won't be here." I casually say, Jessica looks at me, sorry.

"Do you need a ride home?" Dodge cuts in, sensing the beginning of embarrassment.

"Oh... no, no, I'm good." I quickly say.

He looks at me unconvinced, then hums.

"We'll give you a ride. C'mon." He motion on and starts to walk without waiting for my answer. Jessica smiles proudly and walk away as well, so I have no other choice but to accept and follow them.

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

"I think I already know the answer but... Will I see you at tonight's party?" I ask, as I step out of Dodge's car.

"You definitely know the answer." He smile at me and I sigh, nodding defeated.

"You're lucky I'm not like Natalie, or you wouldn't hear the end of it." I say.

"I tried to make him change his mind, but he's stubborn." Jessica chimes in from the driver seat.

"Yeah, it's one of the first things I learned about him." I laugh, "but I can't say he's wrong. I'm not a party person myself."

"You're young, enjoy these years, trust me." She tells us, using a sweet and motherly tone.

"We do enjoy them differently." Dodge replies smugly.

"I agree" I support him and Jessica just rolls her eyes with a smile, "I'll see you tomorrow at work then."

"Of course." He smiles.

"Be careful tonight, sweetheart."

"Drive safe!" I say walking to my house.

Well, my aunt's house, but since she's never here, it might as well be mine.

My phone rings once I change into something more comfortable.

Natalie, of course.

"Yes" I greet with a laugh, "I promised, I know."

"Oh good, you're making my job easier." She cheerfully replies. "I'll get there around 8? Does it work for you?"

"I don't have much of a choice so... yeah." I laugh.

"Wear something cute. We have to celebrate! Wear that cute dress you wore at my birthday party." She suggests at the end.

"Do you want to control what I wear now?" I scoff out a laugh.

"You're just so cute in that! C'mon!" She insists, "I'm making my puppy eyes."

"That doesn't work if I can't see you, you know that, right?"

"But you know what I look like." She sings trying to get me to agree.

"Fine.." I sigh, deeply, letting out a laugh too, "fine, I'll wear that stupid dress."

"Hey! It's not stupid! It's cute!" She scolds me jokingly. "I'll see you tonight, bye!"

"Bye!" I say having up the phone and heading ot my wardrobe to take out the short dress Natalie referred to.

To pass the time I'll clean around for a while, just to keep my mind busy. If I start to think, I'll end up thinking about Panic and I really don't want to think about it right now. I don't want to risk thinking too much and then back down. I'm taking the risk this time and I'm determined to win.

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

We arrive at the already started party, Natalie parts from us to go greet some friends of hers, while I go find Heather and Bishop.

I spot them near the fire, drinks in hand already so I make my way to them.

"Hey." I say taking a set next to Heather.

"Hey Y/n. You came!" Bishop cheers, surprised.

"Natalie forced her to promise she would be here." Heather explained, simply.

"Exactly. Can't break a promise." I sigh, but glad I spend time with them.

"We're happy you're here." Bishop nod towards me, "you're just in time, we were-"

Ray's loud voice interrupts him mid-sentence.

"Oh god.." I sigh, Heather pats my arm comfortingly.

Ray gets close enough to shove the cup against Bishop.

"Final collection." He, basically, demands.

"School's out, okay? I'm not even playing." Bishop replies, raising both hands up.

"Think of it as an insurance." Ray says bending over to get on Bishop's eye level, "it's gonna be one he'll of a summer."

"C'mon, man, I'm not gonna play." Bishop tries once again, with a nervous laugh.

Suddenly Ray grabs his arm, it looks painful from Bishop's expression.

"We're all playing, one way or another," Ray says, not letting Bishop go.

Heather looks at me, pleading, and I sigh.

"Ray, leave him alone." I warn.

He turn his attention to me, looking me up and down until a smirk appears on his face.

"Well, well, well... did you dolled up for me?" He asks.

"No." I answer.

"Are you sure, baby? You know I love you in that dress..." he says, staring at my legs.

"You say that about everything..." I say annoyed.

"That's because you are my favourite." He winks and gets closer.

"Could you leave us?" I ask.

"Mmh?" He hums, then bends over, the cup rests quietly on the ground, he then puts his hands on both armchair, caging me.

"Listen, I know you have some trouble understanding human language, but this is pretty basic." I say and his smirk only grows.

"You can lie to yourself, but not to me. We both know the truth." He says and I catch him looking down at my lips.

"If it helps you sleep at night." I turn my head to find some support in my friends, but they only loom unsure of what to do.

"I do think of you at night, actually, if that's what you're wondering, but I don't... sleep exactly." He leans closer.

"You're disgusting." I push him away.

"Took you long enough to push me away." He winks again, "see you soon, baby."

And with that Ray finally walks away with his cup.

"Prick." I mutter out, takingn a sip of my drink.

"Hey," Heather calls for us, "a toast. To global amnesia."

I nod, grateful, at her and raise my cup.

"Nah..." Bishop says, "selective. There's a few things I want to remember."

I notice Heather and Bishop looking at each other, something passing through their mind and I would swear There's something going on between these two.

As we toast, Natalie finally joins us.

"Hey, what did I miss?" She asks.

"We were toasting to a future free of Ray." I answer her.

"And who will you angry flirt with?" She teases.

"Uh?"

"That guy sucks." Bishop intervenes, to which I nod.

That's how the evening goes, we talk, remembering the good old days, while Bishop and Heather also try to talk me and Natalie out of playing Panic... no success on their part.

"Let's go dance!" Natalie exclaims, to change subject. She grabs Heather's arm and goes to grab mine too, but I manage to avoid it.

"I'll sit this one out." I say, I notice Natalie's stare, "I never promised I would dance."

She scoff and grabs Bishop, who gives me a helpless look and I just shrug waving at him.

I decide to just stay seated and enjoy my beer and my peace.

"Waiting for me?" Ray's infamous voice makes me groan annoyed.

"Obviously not. Now if you don't mind leaving me alone." I say, not looking up at him.

"I do mind. Especially when you play hard to get, you know how much I love it." He replies, sitting down and dragging the seat right next to me.

"I'm not playing anything. I simply don't like you." I tell him and he leans closer to me.

"Yeah... sure." He softly says, looking down at my lips.

"It's not gonna happen again." I warn.

"Let's bet, then."

"Uh?" I can't deny I'm intrigued.

"I know, you like challenges, so let's bet." He says, confidently looking into my eyes.

"Bet what?" I ask, pretending not to be interested, but his smirk only shows me he see right through it.

"If I win Panic, you'll be mine." He says, looking at my lips again, biting his own.

"Yeah, sure." I laugh at that, taking a sip from my beer.

"Too scared?" He teases.

"No." I, too quickly, answer.

"C'mon," he whispers, "you're sure I'm not gonna win, right?"

"What I get if I win, uh?" I ask, raising my eyebrow.

"I'll leave you alone. Even though we both now you don't actually want that." He winks and stands up.

I consider him for a moment before nodding my head, standing too.

"Fine." I say.

He takes my beer and take a sip from it.

"Deal." he holds out his hands waiting for me to shake it.

"Deal." I sigh, taking his hand to shake it.

He hold my hand for a moment before he pulls me to him so he can whisper into my ear.

"Can't wait, baby." He leaves a peck on my ear and I quickly move away from him.

He smirks and starts to walk back, my beer in hand, before nodding his head and fully turning to walk away.

"Shit." I sigh.

I go look for Natalie and tell her I'm about to get going, since I have work tomorrow.

She tries his best to keep me here and celebrate, with Heather and Bishop's help, but I did my part and it's time for me to go and get some rest.

They reluctantly let me go, Natalie offers to take me home, and since it's already too dark I accept.

I can't wait to lay down on my bed, hopefully forgetting about the bet for a while.

[dazed--xx]

⚠️Love Is Gone..⚠️

Summary: I'm sorry, don't leave me, I want you here with me. I know that your love is gone. I can't breathe, I'm so weak, I know this isn't easy. Don't tell me that your love is gone…..That your love is gone

Member: Han Jisung x Reader

T/W: ANGST!!!!!!!!!!!!, hate comments, distant partner, mentions of depression, mentions of anxiety, assault, recording of an assault, hate speech. Cursing, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND ACTIONS, Crying, Feeling alone, happy-ish ending, etc

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: ❗!!!!!THIS STORY IS TRIGGERING. I USED MY ACTUAL HISTORY WITH DEPRESSION FOR THIS ONE SO THERE IS AN ACCURATE DEPICTION OF SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS. PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION!!!!!!!❗this is the only authors note I'm making on the playlist please read this. I'm adding this story because a break up is not the only form of heartbreak you could experience. I added the mature tag because of the themes in this. This is an important story for me and this song genuinely inspired this story. No matter what member I used for this song this was going to be the story so any members name could have been used for this one. I felt Jisung fit the story so well though I love this quokka and he deserves an impactful first solo story on my master list. I struggled to not cry while writing this so let's see if you can hold back tears while reading it. After every thing they go through they deserve a happy ending I needed to give them one😭😂 but please comment your thoughts. I love your opinions and I respond to almost everyone. Anyway please enjoy the angsty goodness.

Don't go tonight, Stay here one more time.Remind me what it's like, oh…And let's fall in love one more time, I need you now by my side. It tears me up when you turn me down

“Do you have to go?” you question hesitantly, nibbling on your bottom lip as you watch Jisung put his coat on. “Yes, I already told you that, Y/N” He sighs, almost sounding annoyed. You pout, staring at your interlocked hands. “Yeah, you did sorry…” you trail, trying to maintain your composure at your boyfriend's reluctance to be around you “Don't wait up” He calls as he makes his way out of the door. The moment you hear the ‘click’ of the lock you allow the tears you had been holding back to flow down your cheeks.

For weeks now, Jisung had grown distant; during comeback and award season it was unfortunately a normal part of your relationship. But, you had always been able to maintain a conversation with him if something was bothering you. Except for some reason this comeback season, the first since you and Jisung had announced your 1-year relationship, was different. While, both you and Jisung had expected some backlash, things seemed to be easier for Jisung than they had been for you. You have received many snarky and rude comments about how unfit for Jisung you were.

Your hair is too dry and straw-like.

You are too fat.

You are too unimportant.

You wished to tell your boyfriend as soon as these comments flooded your social media. He had warned you to turn your comments off and avoid social media for a while, but you didn't listen figuring you could deal with a couple of mean comments. However, as time went on you wished you had listened as the comments got worse and worse.

Kill yourself slut

Jisung deserves more than some useless bitch as his girlfriend!!!

She's so disgusting clearly she's a gold digger, I wish someone would just get rid of her!

She is such a cunt, I hope she kills herself soon…

You broke down the first time you had read those comments. You couldn't understand what you had done wrong by falling in love. You first tried to bring it up 2 weeks ago. They had finished filming the music video for their latest single. He had come home; energy high, he radiated from the adrenaline. He froze when he saw you seated on the couch tears streaming down your face. You looked at him startled. “ what's wrong?” He questioned as he rushed over to your side taking your face in his hands. “You're home early…” you mutter the only words that could be released from your mouth in your vulnerable state. Little did you know those three words would trigger and argument and the hate comments were left forgotten. After that day you tried to ask him to talk but he would zoom out of the house and that's when the loneliness set in.

You felt pathetic

You dreaded every morning you opened your eyes. Questioning why you were still here. You slowly realized your level of insignificance. Breathing hurt, a physiological natural event felt wrong. While you know the act of breathing didn't hurt physically, it hurt emotionally. Every morning you lay in bed, not bothering to pull yourself out unless you had to go to the bathroom, or to drink water. Sleep didn't stop most days, Jisung spent most of his days working until well after you'd fallen asleep. You rarely saw him, these days.

If you hadn't run out of feminine products you'd have spent another full day in bed, but as those familiar cramps continue to wreak havoc on your uterus you trudge your way to the store. You were grateful for the large hoodie that helped shade your eyes from the blinding sun as you crossed the street. You continue on your way, you pout to yourself as you see the influx of hate comments while you check to see if Jisung had responded to your inquiry of if he needed anything from the store. Nothing… you sigh to yourself as you pass a group of about 5-6 girls as you make your way into the store.

You hear them murmuring to themselves as you make your way down the aisles. You scan the pads when you feel a dainty finger tap your shoulder. Giving the person a side glance you raise an eyebrow. “Hmm?” you hear a petite soft voice call to you “Um excuse me are you Y/N?” she questions in a sickeningly sweet way. You get a sinking feeling in your gut.

Run…Run as fast as and as far as you can

your conscience screams at you but your feet are glued to the floor as you stare at the girl like a deer in headlights. You struggle to find words as a devious grin grows on the girl's face. Two girls begin to come up behind her, you step to turn the other direction only for two more girls to block your escape as they creep towards you. The girl who approached you first now has her phone pointed in your direction as she begins to question you “Why is someone as dirty as you near Jisung oppa?!” She growls as the girls crowd around you. They shout profanity at you as you stare at the ground, murmuring apologies for your relationship not wanting to insult your boyfriend's fans. The last thing you wanted to do was embarrass him further.

“Look at her! She's so pathetic” the ring leader instigated “She's just standing there like an idiot!” she growls before sending her free hand flying across your face. You feel a sharp sting on your cheeks as you attempt to push past two of the girls. They send you flying roughly against the shelves behind you. You whimper in pain mumbling another apology begging them to let you go as they unleash a flurry of hits and kicks on you. They laughed as they told you how pathetic you are. You tried to protect your face by curling up in a ball. You drowned out their insults, holding in your tears and words until they were finished. They walked away in laughter as you groaned in pain rolling on the ground for a moment. You pull yourself off the ground grab your pads and limp your way to the counter. The cashier stares at you with concern in his eyes, “Ma'am do you need me to call the police?” he questions. A sense of pity and worry settles over him as you shake your head “N-No..I don't want this to be a big thing. I'm okay” you state blankly, putting your money on the counter you grab your pads and rush out of the store. You hold onto your ribs as you limp your way into the alley beside the store.

Pressing your back against the wall you wince at the contact you collapse to the ground. You bury your face in your hands. You sob harshly, your body trembling as you allow the tears to stream down your cheeks. You hiccuped as you pulled your phone from your pocket. You dial Jisung’s number, you waited trying to catch your breathe. One, two, three rings “We’re sorry the number you have dialed—” you end the call holding the phone to your chest you allow your sobs to shake your body. Dark thoughts beginning to take over when your flurry of calls go unanswered.

You're so pathetic, Jisung won't even answer your calls. You're worthless, You're nothing, You just want to die. you should die….Life is too hard. It's over what's the point anymore? The entire world hates you…. I give up…

With final resolve, you open your conversation with Jisung and begin typing.

I'm sorry, I wish I could have said goodbye properly. I love you please remember that. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you deserve. I wish things weren't like this. I'm weak. It's all too hard. I can't handle it anymore. It feels like I'm in open ocean and I'm so close to drowning. I'd can't do this anymore. Please don't blame yourself. None of this is your fault I just wasn't strong enough. I'm just pathetic. I hope you can forgive me one day. I'm so sorry. I love you. Goodbye…

You hit send before turning on Do Not Disturb. You slowly limp toward the park. You felt numb as you stared at the ground, you come upon the walking bridge. You stand in the middle of the bridge, you watch the water. You had heard somewhere that the most calm-looking water was the most dangerous. You pull yourself onto the banister. Taking a deep breath you lean forward.

I'm begging please, just stick around; I'm sorry, don't leave me, I want you here with me I know that your love is gone….

The moment Jisung read your message an uneasy feeling settled over him. He didn't even think before he was dashing out of Chan’s studio and the recording they were currently doing. He called you in a panic; his anxiety growing worse and worse at your failure to answer. He felt his throat closing as he ran in a frenzy out of the JYP building ignoring his member's worried calls of his name. Quickly pulling up the Find My Phone app he sees you at the park nearby. He ran faster than he ever has before getting to the park in no time. He looks around for a moment. He spots you standing on the bridge. He clutches his chest relaxing as he sees you standing there, staring at the water below. He breathes a sigh of relief as Chan and Changbin catch up to him he continues to catch his breath as Chan questions him. All three men are caught off guard as you pull yourself up onto the banister. Jisung's eyes widen as he rushes toward you. “Y/N!!” His voice is pained, your head turns to face him. Chan and Changbin running behind their friend worriedly.

“Baby! Please, stop!” Jisung's voice cracks as he reaches the end of the bridge. Your eyes meet his, Only then can he fully see you. Your eyes were bloodshot, tears streaming down your cheeks. Bruises littered your face. Dried blood speckled all over your hoodie. Your appearance sent Jisung into shock he stared at you wide-eyed “I'm sorry…” you whisper to him as you let go. Jisung's world crumbles as you disappear from his sight. He dashes to where he last saw you. “Y/N!!” He cries his voice hoarse as his legs give out from beneath him. Chan wraps his arm around Jisung and guides him to the floor holding him close he allows the younger man to cry to his heart's content as Changbin assists the paramedics in finding you. He never imagined this would happen. You, the only other person besides Felix, that was the definition of sunshine. Jisung felt numb as Chan held onto him as he replayed his last moment with you in his head.

I'm sorry! don't leave me! I want you here with me! I know that your love is gone….I can't breathe! I'm so weak! I know this isn't easy! Don't tell me that your love is gone…

When the video of your assault surfaced the day after your attempt; Jisung felt sick to his stomach. He hates himself for not being there with you. After watching the video over and over, he finally decided to check your phone. When he was able to charge the device Jisung could feel a wave of nausea crash over him as an influx of disgusting hate messages and comments came through. He stared at your unconscious figure, he held your hand tightly as he cried “I'm so sorry baby. I'm sorry… I didn't know. I'm sorry I was too late.” he pressed his forehead to your hand “Please…please wake up. I'll do anything. Please don't let go, I know you feel alone, but you have me. Please don't leave me behind, without you I'm nothing…” his breathing grows heavier, tears cascading down his face. “I love you so much. I need you—I need you, baby, I can't keep doing this. I need you so much right now. Please wake up….Don't let me lose you, not like this. I'll fix everything…I'll show you how much you mean to me, please!” He exclaims he can't handle the expressionless look on your face. He was grateful you were no longer pale though.

It took three more weeks before you opened your eyes. your head pounded as Jisung muttered something under his breath. “W-what?” you choked out, your voice sounding coarse and scratchy. Jisung's eyes widen as he stares at you at the sound of your voice. He collapsed to the floor as tears built in his eyes, he sobbed harshly “T-Thank you! You're awake! You're okay!” his body trembled as he reached for your hand. You stare at him your face void of any emotion as he cried you pulled your hand away from his as if his contact burned you.

You saw his expression fall as he shook his head in denial “N-No..” He states in disbelief as he meets your eyes. “P-Please I—Where were you?…” you cut him off with heartbreak and disappointment in your tone. Jisung whimpers at your question. “I'm sorry, I-I should have—I didn't realize, okay? I'm so sorry, please don't pull away from me..” he stammers his apology causing your heart to clench. “I don’t want to see you right now…” you whisper. You hear the most heartbreaking sob erupts from Jisung’s chest. “No, please! I should have been there for you. I should have done more but I can't lose you When you jumped I felt like my entire world was falling apart. You were so close—I was right there. I should have answered your calls. I should have noticed something was wrong. I'm sorry okay? I'm so sorry. There's nothing I could be more sorry about but please I can't—I can't lose you. I don't want to be without you please let me fix this..” he begs his eyes not leaving yours once.

“Jisung…”

“Please. I'm sorry okay? I'll say it forever if I have to. Please I want you right here, next to me, always. I know it's hard but we love each other. I can make you love me again. Please….please don't hate me. I know I messed up but please don't break me too…I can't handle the thought of losing you let alone it actually happening. Please stay with me?” he pleads his eyes filled with hope as he holds onto your hand. “I'll never let you feel alone again I promise. You'll always have me. I'll give you the world if you ask for it. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for this please let me…” He begs, his voice cracking between sniffles. You stare at him, your heart yearning for him. You feel your resolve crumbling as he continues to cry. You caress his cheek, staring into his eyes. He looks at you hopefully, melting into your touch. “Please just, Don't tell me that your love is gone…i wouldn't be able to handle that.” he whimpers. You give him a sad smile, caressing his cheek. You lean in pressing your lips against his softly.

⏪|⏸️|⏩

Taglist: @yangbbokari @havenwithleeknow

[skyward-floored]

Blog intro! That I'm finally getting around to after several years lol.

Hi there! I’m Peggy, Sky Floor, Floor, Skyward, or Peg if you like.

Basically any variation of my username is fine.

I'm a Christian girl, muddling my way through life 👍

This is my Legend of Zelda/Linkeduniverse blog, the home of all my Zelda stuff I reblog and create. I’m a writer and random theory person mostly, but I also draw and reblog a lot of stuff, talk about the loz games, and bust out various insane AUs every so often. I also never shut up. sorry.

Writing tag is #writing from the floor

Talk tag is #rambles from the floor

And my ao3, Skyward_Arpeggio

I also make an effort to tag everything for easy organization and proper warnings, but I can't catch everything. I do my best though. Also no political discussions or NSFW asks, please. I try to keep this a light-hearted space, so please respect that.

I'm always willing to talk Zelda/Lu, and have an unhealthy amount of lore memorized, so don't be afraid to shoot me an ask if you wanna chat :D

Some of my projects and AUs I'm working on:

Linked Universe Incredibles AU, an semi-modern superhero au, where I basically dumped the lu boys into the Incredibles movie(s). If you're looking for family stuff, superpowers, and way too much angst, this is the au for you. You can find it under the tag: #incredibles au, and all the writing I've done for it under: #incredibles au fic. (also on ao3!)

Brethren in a Cradle, my longest-running and most intense plot-wise project (with the very slow updates 😭). The chain gain an unusual addition to their ranks, and somehow Wild is a dad now. Wait, all of them are. Oops. Link to the fic.

Hyrule Dragon Warriors, which is a hyrule warriors au in which Link's dad is Volga, and his mom is Impa. Yeah. Family drama. You can find it under: #hdw au. (also on ao3!)

I have two original Zelda stories I'm working on, one that I just call Lost AU, and the other Hero of Sages, or Berry Link. Lost is about a Link who's corrupted very early in the story, and Zelda setting out to save him and the kingdom. While Hero of Sages is about a Link who has six older sisters... who happen to be six of the seven maidens needed to bring back Ganon. You can find them respectively under #Lost and #hero of sages.

You can also find my own all the links from the games go on an adventure together au at the tag: #Courage of Ages. There isn't a whole lot posted on here about them, but I always love talking about my boys :)

I have much more than this though, AUs/projects and other stuff I’ve written, but I'm going to put it under the cut (...still under editing so it's messy and unfinished!)

The past three years I've participated in the whumptober challenge! I did half of 2021's for lu, and in 2022 and 2023 I did all 31 days for lu! You can find the list for 2021 here, the ones for 2022 here, and the 2023 ones here (or find them all on my ao3 (see above), as well as some ao3-only bonus scenes!).

Kitty Wind, which is exactly what it sounds like. Wind touches Twilight's crystal, and finds himself as... a cat. A tiny, fluffy, adorable little cat. Needless to say, he isn't thrilled. You can find it under #kitty wind or read the fic on ao3!

A Royal Castletown Wedding

Accidental Domestication

Scales and Gills, a collection of Mermaid Legend fics

The Twilight Turns (true form au),

Pup is only a oneshot for now, but I have more fics planned for this idea! Dark Link goes back in time, and after the chain when they're too small to defend themselves. Unfortunately for Dink, he doesn't bet on them having protectors in the form of their predecessors.

Many Courses of Love

Up in Arms

Botw Dark Link AU

Downfall IAU

other aus(?) you're probably forgetting some so check later girl

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

I love you 3000 writing bonanza!

I’ve hit 3000 followers!!!

Now if you remember a while ago I asked how you guys would like to celebrate and this is what I’ve come up with! If you remember my 2.5k Followers Writing Challenge and Exchange its kinda similar to that but I’ve made some improvements!

What is going to happen is I am going to open up my askbox/dms for requests!

To make this manageable and allow me to complete as many as possible I will only be accepting requests in these following forms:

1) A question about a character or series

For example: How would X characters feel about Y character doing XYZ?

2) A What If…. For one of my series

For example: What If the character for X series met 10 years prior

3) A request using a maximum of 3 of the prompts below (the list is hella long so I’ve put it below the cut!)

For Example: Ari Levinson / Mob AU / You won’t get away so easy

If I receive a request that does not fall into one of these three categories then I will not fulfill it!

And because I like for everyone to be able to get involved if you yourself are a writer/want to give writing a go and you like any of the below prompts feel free to use them (the max of 3 doesn’t apply to you guys) all I ask is that you tag me, use the hashtag Niamh Loves You 3000, use appropriate warnings and let me know which ones you’re using so I can keep my eye out!

If you are writing a fic using the below prompts I ask you to follow these rules:

No sexual relations with minors, no somnophilia, necrophilia, incest, toilet stuff, snuff, or beastiality!

Dark Fics are allowed (Non-Con/Dub-Con) but they MUST BE APPROPRIATELY TAGGED!

Any creation MUST BE ORIGINAL! No stealing, stealing is bad!

The creation if part of a series must be able to be read as a stand alone!

No word limit! If it’s over 500 please use the read more function!

All the prompts are below the cut, remember its a max of three, but you can mix and match as you like so the possibilities are endless!

Characters:

Chris Evans

Steve Rogers

Andy Barber

Frank Adler

Ari Levinson

Curtis Everett

Johnny Storm

Jake Jensen

Ransom Drysdale

Any other Chris Evans character

Trope:

Fake Dating

Only One Bed

Enemies to Lovers

Friends to Lovers

Cuddling for warmth

Trapped together

Mistaken Identity

One night only

Love Triangle

Fated Mates

Childhood Sweethearts

Grumpy x Sunshine

Forbinned Love

Forced Proximity

WILDCARD! (You can pick an Trope not listed!)

AU:

A/B/O AU

Mob AU

Sports team AU

College AU

Emergency Service AU

(Medieval) Royalty AU

(Modern) Royalty AU

Pornstar AU

Fairytale / Fantasy AU

Biker AU

Soulmate AU

Band/Musician AU

WILDCARD! (You can pick an AU not listed!)

Dialogue:

"I told you not to touch that"

"I'm tired of answering that question"

"Why didn't they come?"

"I'm so sick of pretending everything's okay"

"don't just stand there! do something!"

"do you remember that night in [insert place]?"

"is there a problem here gentlemen?"

"what on earth happened here?"

"there's blood everywhere"

"Get in the van!"

"I'm not saying you're a bad cook, but even the flies in the kitchen wear gas masks."

"I may be a terrible dancer, but I've got great moves in bed."

"I'm not high maintenance; I'm just low tolerance for mediocrity."

"I love the sound of your voice and the way you say my name."

"Being with you feels like coming home."

“You're not the person I thought you were."

"I never imagined my life without you."

"I never got to say goodbye."

"I'm so glad you're here to point out my flaws. I would never have noticed them on my own."

"Oh, don't worry about being late. We'll just sit here and wait for you forever."

"I'm sorry. Did I ask for your opinion?"

"Why do you always insist on seeing the worst in people?"

"It's not my fault you can't handle the truth."

"You don't know what I'm capable of."

"I'll do whatever it takes to get what I want."

"You think you're better than me, but you're not."

"I'll use anyone I need to achieve my goals."

"You've made a huge mistake, and now you're going to pay for it."

"Don't you realize how much you've hurt everyone around you?"

"you have no idea what you do to me"

"don't you dare go slow"

"I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow"

"move and you won't be coming tonight"

"hands behind you're back"

"Beg for it"

"you can take it, you've done it before"

"I'm going to fucking ruin you"

"do you think you deserve a reward/punishment?"

"show me how much you missed me"

"Are you holding back? don't"

"shall we put your mouth to better use?"

"Slowly, I'm not going anywhere"

"I said I'd take care of you"

"Please, I can't sit still"

So there’s absolutely so many to pick from covering fluff, comedy, angst and smut 😉 don’t forget to follow the rules I’ve set out above!!

I love you all 3000 🩵🩵🩵

[ssuperficialspacecadett]

Crutches and Crushes

Chapter Three of the Through the Scope series | Chapter Four

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4.9K

TW: Unhealthy relationship and mentions of cocaine

Chapter Overview: You run into Frankie while you are out shopping.

Notes: Hey everyone ! I love that I'm still going to say no set posting schedule even though I have been consistent in my posting schedule. I just don't want to give a day and then miss it and blah blah blah. ANYWAY I'm absolutely beside myself that people wanted to be on the tag list for this series (i could cry) so thank you to the people that are investing time into this just like me (: my asks are always open if you want to chat about this series in particular or literally anything else !! happy reading <3

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

With a whole week of work at Brass Knuckles now officially under your belt, your dad wanted to celebrate. He called you and asked if you would come and eat lunch with him on Sunday afternoon. You knew that this meant you would be the one selected to go pick up and pay for lunch at some restaurant, but it was the fact that he remembered in the first place. Your dad was the kind of man that remembered globally recognized celebratory events: Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and Thanksgiving. However, he struggled a bit with remembering ones that hit closer to home: your birthday, his own wedding anniversary, and any school function you had. You knew that he never did this with any malice or bad intentions, that wasn’t in his nature, but that didn’t ever numb the pain when it inevitably happened. 

“Did you really have to get me a salad?” 

You already knew that he was going to ask this. “Yes, I did.”

“Well could you have at least ordered me one that is topped with fried chicken and not this skinless bitch chicken.”

“Fried meats are one of the main foods that you have to avoid because of your diabetes,” You narrow your eyes at him. “So eat your ‘bitch chicken’ and be happy.”

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry, Sweet Pea. Thank you for bringing the food and for putting up with me.” 

“Of course, dad, but speaking of putting up with you…how has your physical therapy been going with Miss. Maggie?”

“I have my good days and my bad days. I actually managed to hold myself up on the uhh…what’s that thing called again? The one that has those horizontal poles on either side of me?”

“The parallel bars?”

“Yeah!” He snaps his fingers together. “I managed to hold myself up on the parallel bars, but I used all my strength focusing on not falling over which meant that I didn’t have much left in me when it came time to try taking a step.”

“I’m still really proud of you! Doing everything that you’re doing isn’t easy. All that anyone can ask is that you take it day by day and to try your best.”

“When did you grow up and get so smart?” His voice sounds airy. 

“When you blinked.”

“Is that so? Okay, smarty pants, what’s the first thing that I’m going to do when I can walk on my own again?”

You lean back in your seat and ponder his question. It wouldn’t have anything to do with playing cards, since he has that poker tournament every Sunday evening. It wouldn’t be going on a date, although you suspect he might have a little thing for Miss. Maggie. As you rack your brain for the answer a car fires up its engine in the retirement home parking lot. Got it.

“The first thing that you’re going to do when you can walk on your own is go to a car show. Then after you’re done, you’ll probably go get the greasiest burger you can get your hands on just to spite me.” 

“Fuckin’ hell. You got me all figured out.” 

“How about this? We go to the car show together, but skip the burgers.”

“Or we go to the car show together, skip the burgers, and get a basket of fries instead?”

You know when you're in the middle of a losing argument. A frustrated sigh comes from you as you nod your head at his counter-proposal. 

“Deal, dad.” 

***

You should have known this was a bad idea. You should have turned your car around the moment you saw how packed the parking lot was. Days like today were the reason why online shopping and curbside delivery were invented. Unfortunately for you, you had no better way to spend the afternoon of your day off than braving the hectic crowds of IKEA. Your desperate need for items inside the store outweighed your hesitation to go inside. You have only just grabbed a basket when your phone starts ringing.

“Thank fucking god you called, Robbie. I just got into IKEA and I need someone to talk to so I don’t get completely overwhelmed here.” 

You spend the next 45 minutes wandering in and out of different furniture sections while filling Robbie in about your new job and friends. You tell her about Benny and how he has become your closest friend so far down here. She audibly gags when you mention Brunson and how he acted when you first met him. Although you reassure her that Benny stepped in and shut him down, she still has a few choice words that you hope the family standing next to you can’t hear through the phone. 

By the time you finally bring up Will, Pope, and Frankie your basket is quite full. You found all the kitchenware you needed: pots and pans, cups, plates, bowls, utensils, etc. Then for your room you got a nightstand, a dresser drawer, a lamp, decorative throw pillows, and a full length mirror to hang on your closet door. You wrote down the item numbers for some of the items that are too big to cart around, kitchen table and chairs and a couch, so you could order them on a later date. 

“So, Santiago is Pope, Will is Ironhead, Frankie is Catfish, and Benny is…just Benny?” 

“It’s weird, I know.” You laugh. “They’re all really sweet, but Frankie is by far the most attractive one in the group.” 

“What did I fucking say?! I knew that you would have better luck finding a boyfriend in Florida than back home!”

“He’s not my boyfriend! I just think he’s cute, damn!”

“Tell me about him! I need a good mental image.”

“He’s a few inches taller than me, maybe 5’11? His hair curls at the end and is this beautiful brown which matches his eyes. Broad, and I mean broad, shoulders.” Robbie squeals on the other end of the phone. “Big nose and probably 10-15 years older than me?”

“I told you that you like ‘em older.”

You playfully roll your eyes at her comment as you walk into the section of the store that carries the bed frames.

“But I think you would really like Will. He’s tall, ruggedly handsome, has a sexy southern accent, and seems really smart.”

She’s quiet on the other end of the phone while you explain more about him to her. You love Robbie, but the men that she has dated in the past couldn’t match her on any level. She needed a partner that could challenge her intellectually and push her out of her comfort zone. Will is the kind of man that could do that for her. 

“Basically, what I’m trying to tell you is that you should date men that are actually men.”

“Well, it looks like I’ll have some homework to do when I come down next month for spring break.”

“Just give him a chance, that’s all I’m asking. Hey, I should probably go. I’ve already been here way longer than I intended and if I keep talking to you there's no telling when I’ll finish.” 

The two of you make plans to talk later and you hang up the phone. Now to find a bed frame and get the fuck out of here. You survey the room to see if anything catches your eye and something does. The only issue is that it's not a piece of furniture. Familiar curls peek out from underneath a black cap. He’s facing away from you which allows you to read the lettering on the back of his shirt.

B.K.B.G Sponsor of the Month

Tire Town Auto Body Repair Shop

When you first met Frankie, Benny had accidentally cut it short. You have been embarrassingly hung up on the fact that you didn’t get to talk to him the way you had with the other two men that evening. Now the universe has allowed you a second chance by placing him just a few feet away. You find yourself stuck in between feeling excitement and apprehension to approach him. Would he think you were weird if you came up and talked to him? Would he see you as Benny’s little receptionist and nothing more? These questions and countless more plague your mind as your feet guide you over to him. 

“Uhh…Frankie?”

He turns around and looks down at you with those enchanting eyes. The wrinkles that form around them when he smiles softly at you echo the photo you saw of him. The front of his shirt has ‘B.K.B.G Friday Fight Night’ written in a large font across his chest. 

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

You shily gesture to your very full basket. “Turns out that one of the many consequences of moving quickly is having to buy all new furniture because you didn’t have time to bring the stuff you already owned.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” he chuckles and scratches the nape of his neck. “That was a stupid question.” 

“No, no it wasn’t! At least I have a job now so I can pay for it all.”

“How is that going by the way? You just finished your first week, right?” 

You try to convince yourself that him remembering how long you had already been working at Brass Knuckles for wasn’t a big deal. He had come into the gym on Monday and since today is Sunday, a logical person could conclude that you had completed your first week. Try as you might, you couldn’t stop the balloon-like swelling you felt in your heart. 

“I did! It was pretty good, honestly. I feel like I’ve got the hang of everything I’m in charge of. Speaking of Brass Knuckles, I like your shirt.”

He looks down at the shirt he probably didn’t think twice about throwing on this morning. 

“You don’t have one of the fight night shirts yet? I think this is the one my job sponsored.” You laugh as he tries to look over his shoulder to read the back of the shirt.

“No, I haven’t been to the fights yet. You work at Tire Town Auto Body Shop?”

“For the time being.” His eyes drift away while he says. You can tell that there is more to the story than he is letting on.

“Well it’s comforting to know that you work there,” His gaze falls back on you. “I have the worst luck with cars so it’s only a matter of time before I’ll need to find a shop.”

“I hope nothing goes wrong with your car, but if it does, just bring it over to me and I’ll take care of everything for you. Wait, wait…did you say that you haven’t been to the fights?”

“In my defense I have only known about them for a week! Benny is the only one I know there, but he is either preparing the fighters or organizing the event as a whole. I would feel out of place if I went by myself.”

“Well now you know me and Will and Pope. Come with us.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” he rests his hand on the edge of your cart. “It’s actually a pretty fun time. I would love it if you went with me- me and the guys.” You watch his fingers pick anxiously at a piece of tape on the end of one of your boxes.

“Sounds like a plan to me, Frankie.” 

Upon hearing you agree to go with him the corners of his lips curl into a smile. It’s so infectious that you find yourself beaming in the middle of the bustling store as well. His shyness makes you yearn to know what makes him tick. Makes you want to know how to coax that coveted smile out of him. Because maybe doing that will help you smile more as well. 

It looks like he is opening his mouth to say something when he’s cut off by the blaring of his ringtone. He easily takes the device out of his pocket, but falters when he sees the name that's displayed on the screen. His once relaxed demeanor has now been replaced by something tense and foreign to you. 

“I’ve uhh I’ve gotta take this. I’m so sorry.” He hits the answer button and places the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“No worries,” You whisper to him. “I’m sure I’ll see you later.” 

You watch as he nods and starts to walk deeper into the store. Before he gets out of your ear shot you hear him say the name ‘Rochelle’. Leave it to you to be into a man that already has another woman first in line.

***

“Why do we always have to come to this dump? They don’t have any good drinks and the music sucks.”

Frankie sits across from Rochelle at a random table in The Barrel. He knew better than to let her sit at the guy's designated table. He didn’t want her to corrode them the way she had done with him. 

“Why do you want to get back together, Rochelle? We never made each other happy. Our whole relationship was a coked out blur.” 

“But you liked it.” She places her hand on his. It was cold and wet since she had been using it to hold her beer bottle. 

“I’m not the same man I was before, Rochelle. I can’t do shit like that anymore. I don’t want to do shit like that anymore.” He forces himself to look her in the eyes. “You know what it cost me.”

She meets his plea with a scoff and brings her drink to her overlined lips. She never seemed interested in conversations where she wasn’t leading or the center of attention. 

“You were fun. I was fun. We were fun. So what if we needed a little bump every now and then to get there?” Her fingers curl tighter around his hand. “I miss you, Frankie.”

He missed having someone ride shotgun. He missed having someone there when he needed to vent about the shitty day that he had at work. He missed having a warm body to sleep next to at night. He missed having someone to care for. He just didn’t know if he missed her. She gave him a distraction when he needed it in the past, but could she give him the support he needs now? The support he would inevitably need in the future?

“The only way I would consider revisiting ‘us’ is if it's just us. No more coke.”

He can see the annoyance in her eyes as he lays out his boundaries on the table. She slowly retracts her hand from his and coils it back around her glass. 

“Fine.” Her tone is flat.

“I’m not kidding. I want a fresh start. If we are going to try again I want to do it right.”

“Then let's start with that woman’s voice I heard on the other end of your phone today. Who was that?”

“Are you serio- I ran into Benny’s new hire while I was out shopping for stuff for my place. She’s new to the area and doesn’t have a lot of friends here yet. It was just a friendly conversation, Rochelle.”

"Well,” Her voice is syrupy sweet. “You don’t need to be her friend because you’re already mine.”

He really wanted to believe her when she said that. He really wanted to believe that she cared for him enough to change and grow as a person. He really wanted to ignore the sound of the water calling his name the longer he sat with her. 

***

By Wednesday, you felt completely at ease working in the gym. You recognized and chatted with regulars, became quite the sales woman for both memberships and Friday tickets, and were able to kick the washing machine into submission without Benny’s help. Your desk was also coming along nicely too. You had posted notes in your favorite color, a photo you and Robbie took together in a photobooth shoved into the top right corner of your computer, multi colored pens, and even a small filing basket so you could better organize your paperwork. Your new found confidence in the job gave you the push you needed to officially pitch the idea of gym wide air fresheners to Benny.

“I don’t want this place smellin’ like a fruity little spa.” 

“You do know that they make dozens, if not hundreds, of different kinds of scents right?”

“People come here to workout, not pretend that they are on a tropical vacation.” 

“People can’t workout if the smell suffocates them.” You retort.

“It’s not even that bad!”

“You’ve gone nose blind, Benny! Please know that I say this out of the kindness of my heart, but it is fucking rancid in here.” 

“Now you’re just bein’ mean.” 

“Listen, what if I buy some, only the most manly smelling ones of course, and let you test them out? It’s a win-win because you won’t have to charge them on the company card and if you hate them I can just return them all.”

“Alright, but you promise that I will get the final say?” 

“You’re the boss, Benny. Oh, what should we eat today?”

The two of you have been eating lunch together during the week. There is a good window of time right after the gym’s lunch rush and before the after work rush. You even made sure to block off at least an hour in Benny’s schedule around that time so he could have a much needed break. 

“Have you tried that burger place up the street? Goddamn, they’re so good.” 

“Burgers it is then. Text me your order so I know what to get you.”

What? Just because your dad has to be on a strict diet doesn’t mean that you have to be on one.

***

Benny had wheeled his rolly chair all the way from his back office and crammed it behind your desk. Both of you sit snugly with your feast of burgers and fries littered in front of you. The silence is only broken up by the occasional ‘can you pass the ketchup?’ or ‘are there extra napkins in the bag?’. When you have eaten half of your burger you decide to set it down and bring up what’s been on your mind. You know you can’t just come out and ask it so you opt to bring it up gradually. 

“I saw Frankie the other day while I was out and he suggested I come to the fights this Friday.”

“I’ve been askin’ you to come since you got here!” His mouth is still full from the last bite he took. 

“Gross, Benny!” You swat him in the shoulder. “I know you have been asking, but you’re busy helping organize things! You’re the only one I know here.”

You can’t tell if he chooses to keep his mouth shut because you’re right or because you just reprimanded him.

“Frankie said I could go with him and the other guys. Plus I have no social life and it's starting to feel like the walls of my apartment are closing in on me.”

“Regardless of who convinced you to go, I’m happy you’re comin’! You’re gonna have a blast! Fish and the guys throw down pretty hard at these things too so you’ll be in good company.” 

“Yeah I think I will be too.” You have to shove a fry in your mouth to hide the smile you can feel making its way across your lips. Only once you have finished chewing, you don’t want to be a hypocrite, do you bring up what you really have been wanting too. “Can I ask a question? It might not be my place though.”

The man across from you motions, burger in hand, for you to continue. You take a deep breath and rip the band-aid off.

“Well, Frankie and I’s conversation was actually cut short when he got a phone call. I wouldn’t have said anything except- except he looked so tense when he got it? I don’t know, maybe I’m imagining things.”

“No you’re definitely not imaginin’ things. I don’t want to get into Frankie’s business because that's his own shit to talk about, but long story short, a woman is tryin’ to come back into his life that shouldn’t have been there in the first place.”

You pick your burger back up and take a bite as he carries on with his story. 

“The guys and I all found ways to cope with comin’ back to reality after dealin’ with the worst of the worst in and out of the service. Mine was openin’ this place, Will’s was helpin’ other vet’s, Pope’s was bein’ a military consultant, and Frankie’s was…well Frankie’s was Rochelle.”

“Rochelle.” You wanted to feel how her name felt on your tongue. “I heard him say that name when he was walking away.”

“Damnit, Fish.”

***

“So, remind me again why we are here?”

Frankie pulls into Brass Knuckles’ parking lot with Pope in his passenger seat. He knew he should have done this without him. If anyone was going to sniff out that he had a small thing for you it was going to be Pope.

“Benny left some clothes at my place last week and since we were in the neighborhood I figured I would just drop them off.” 

“As opposed to giving them to him on Friday? Which is only two days from now, might I add.” He looks in the backseat and grabs the small cardboard box. “I think he would have made it until then without a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.”

“Shut up and get out of my truck, man.” 

Frankie takes the box of clothes out of Pope’s hands when they both round the bed of the truck and start walking towards the door. He can see you entranced by something on your computer screen through the windows. 

“I also invited her to come to the fights with us this week.” Frankie flicks his chin in your direction when Pope looks at him. 

“You already have her number? Damn, Fish. I thought I worked quickly.”

“No, man,” He groans. “We ran into each other while I was at IKEA on Sunday. I just thought it would be fun, you know? It’s not like that, Pope.” 

“Fish, you were a bad liar when we served together and you’re a bad liar now.” He turns to look at Frankie. “Come on, you think she’s cute don’t you?”

“She’s just cool.” He should have never brought Pope.

“Whatever you say.” 

The chime of the door bell pulls you from your emails. You’re shocked, but not unhappy, when you look up and see the two of them coming through the door.

“Hey guys. I didn’t know y’all were coming by today.”

“I would have texted you, love, but I haven’t got your number.” Pope flashes his signature beaming grin in your direction. 

“Well you never asked, love.” You tease. 

“We wanted to drop some things off for Benny.” Frankie says as he comes up and places a cardboard box gingerly on your desk.

“Who's ‘we’?” Pope gabs. 

Your attention stays on Frankie as you speak. “Oh, sure! He’s in the back office doing…actually I'm not really sure what he does back there.”

When Frankie doesn’t immediately move, Pope reaches over and slides the box towards himself. 

“Hey, what are you-?”

“Let me take this for you, Fish. Why don’t you stay here and get her number for me? Strictly for scientific purposes of course.” You can see a playful look in his eyes when he turns back to his clearly panicking friend. 

“Wait, no it’s-”

“It’s no big deal, exactly.” Pope whisks the box off your desk and starts walking into the gym, but not before tossing you a wink. 

It suddenly feels a little harder to breathe when it’s just the two of you up front. You want to compliment the soft, yellow jacket he is wearing, but no words come. The only thing you can selfishly focus on right now is your heart and how it's beating so hard in your chest that he can probably hear it. 

“It’s nice to see you again.” You think you can hear his voice shutter a bit.

“It’s nice to see you again too, Frankie. Still alright for me to come with everyone on Friday? I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing!” The words tumble out of his mouth. “You’re not imposing. I invited you, remember?” His tone settles.

“Thanks again for that by the way.” 

A silence falls between the two of you. You both must have been racking your brains for something to say because you speak at the same time.

“Did you-?”

“Were you able-?”

Comfortable laughter blossoms and it dawns on you that he might be just as nervous to talk to you as you were to talk to him. 

“No, no you go first!” You choke out while trying to catch your breath. 

“Did you end up getting anything else after I left the other day?” 

“I actually did; thanks for asking! I found a bed frame I liked. It took me longer than I'd like to admit to put it together though.” 

Frankie has never been more grateful for the front desk than in this exact moment. Images of your naked, writhing body cuffed to a bed frame flood his mind. God, he could do anything he wanted to you. He would take it slow at first, not wanting to leave any part of your body undiscovered by his tongue. Then, only when you were begging him, would he give you what you wanted. 

“Frankie?”

“I-I’m sorry what did you say?”

“I asked if you were able to find anything? You didn’t have a basket when I saw you.”

“No, I didn’t. The thing I wanted was just out of reach-stock! The thing I wanted was just out of stock.” He corrects.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You pray your voice doesn’t give away the curiosity you have about his little slip up. “Here. Let me give you something to make up for it.” 

You take out a pen from its holder and move your stack of sticky notes in front of you. His eyes capture your every move. You write out your number slowly on the small piece of paper as you revel in the knowledge that you have his undivided attention. When you’re finished you sign it with your name and a tiny heart and pray that you haven’t misread this situation. 

“I know Pope was the one that asked for this, but I want you to hold on to it.” 

Your cheeks burn as you hand him your proverbial olive branch. When he takes it from you and reads what you had written he laughs quietly to himself. 

“You know, so you can text me about this Friday.”

“Not for scientific purposes?” He mimics his friend's earlier statement.

“Unlucky for Pope, I was never really that into the sciences.”

“Lucky for me then.” 

He folds up your note and carefully places it into his front shirt pocket. His timing couldn't have been better because Benny and Pope emerge from behind the brick wall as soon as he’s done. 

“I hear that you managed to convince our girl here to come with y’all to the fights, Fish! Good on you!” He comes up and claps his friend on the back. “I’m not at all jealous that you did it when I couldn’t.”

“Benny.” you chide.

“Why don’t you make it up to Benny and come to the bar with us?”

“One step at a time, Pope. One step at a time. I do have something for you though.”

He comes over to you as you start writing your number out again. Out of the corner of your eye you see him give Frankie and Benny and thumbs up. Oh you poor, sweet, incorrect bastard. You nonchalantly pass it to him and hope Frankie see’s that there is no heart drawn on this time. 

“Your reward for being such a big helper today by returning Benny’s clothes. If you text me in the middle of the night and wake me up I swear to God I’ll kill you.” 

“What bliss that would be.” 

“Hey! Unless y’all are gonna workout y’all better get a move on. Just because we are friends doesn’t mean y’all can take up valuable lobby space in my gym.” 

“We’re going, we’re going.” For a man that is getting ushered out of a building, Frankie sure looks happy. 

“Bye, guys!”

They both wave and say ‘bye’ to you and Benny as they open the door and head into the parking lot. Benny heads back to his office before they reach their truck, but you keep watching. As Frankie’s hand curls around his truck door, he looks back at you, and pats over his shirt pocket. Then he disappears inside and drives off with Pope. 

Frankie could feel the note he placed in his pocket burning a hole through his chest the whole ride back to Pope’s place. It made it hard to carry on a simple conversation with him because that fiery sensation was all he could focus on. It was the type of heat that seeped into his very bones and made him feel as if he was glowing from the inside out. He knew you had unknowingly seared yourself onto his heart and that feeling scared him.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @pimosworld @c-justhere @javicstories @saltybutteredtoast @hoeslingz @avastrasposts @bitchwitch1981 @smol-beb @cutesyscreenname }

[football-and-fanfics]

The Housekeeper - Erling Haaland

Who: Erling Haaland Request: hello, could write something of the plan love / hate. Reader works as a housekeeper in Erling's house and they initially do not have a good relationship. But everyone understands why she is not fired at the same time. Requested by: anonymous Warnings: none

For a few months now, you worked as housekeeper in Erling's house. Several times a week you went over to his place to do the cleaning or run some errands for him.

He was an impressive man, not only by reputation, but surely too in appearance. A big, strong man, and he didn't act overly friendly to you. He wasn't mean or rude, but mostly ignored you or gave you the cold shoulder.

Whenever you spoke to your friends about it, they didn't understand why you didn't quit. But Erling never complained or made comments about the quality of your work, and the pay was surely good, so you stuck to it.

At first, you didn't think much of the way Erling treated you. You had your space to do your job, and if he wasn't in for getting acquainted or small talk, than that was fine by you. But lately you had the strange feeling he was stealing glances at you. It weren't suspicious glances, rather some strange form of fascination. Also, where he usually was away when you worked in his house, Erling now was at home much more often.

For a few more weeks you paid close attention when you worked in his house, and quickly learned that Erling was most definitely checking you out whenever he had the chance. It took at least a week more for you to gather up the courage to speak to him, before you finally did.

"Can I ask you something?" You asked when Erling 'coincidentally' needed to be in the kitchen as you worked there. Erling shortly looked at you, before grunting his approval. "Why are you staring at me?" You blurted out quite bluntly. "You don't speak to me unless you absolutely have to, but I catch you staring at me whenever you have the chance lately. And, frankly, I don't know what to think of it anymore."

The big man in front of you seemed to shrink a few inches. Erling hung his head, but you still caught the furious blush spreading across his cheeks. "I'm sorry." You had never known it would be possible for such a big man to produce such a small voice, and you suddenly felt slightly guilty for confronting him like this. But that blush did confirm your suspicion.

"I--I..." Erling tried his utmost best to get words out, but could only brabble some incoherent nonsense. "Stop," you said quickly, your tone compassionate. "I know. You don't have to say it." Erling's eyes held a mixture of embarrassment and surprise. "You... you know?" "I may only be a housekeeper, but I'm not dumb," you smirked.

A deep exhale deflated his chest as a smile now made its way onto Erling's face. "I handled this all wrong, but... I was so caught off guard by my own feelings that I did some stupid things." You nodded in agreement, but didn't speak. "I fully understand if you don't want anything to do with me," Erling continued, voice a little unsteady. "But, if... if you would give me another chance to do this right and have dinner with me. Or maybe just coffee."

You could easily see the nervousness in Erling in the few seconds it took you to answer. He was clearly contemplating whether or not he had permanently screwed things up with you before any kind of relationship had even begun.

"You would actually have to talk to me." You grinned jokingly. Erling chuckled nervously. "Believe it or not, I've wanted to for a long time." The fact that this man, this big, well-known man, was apparently so swept off his feet by you, suddenly hit you. It made you feel special and the decision ultimately very easy. "Yes," you smiled, "I would love to go on a date with you."

Tags: @stonesyyyy, @footballffbarbiex, @football1921, @laurasstufff1, @ella33

Request an imagine | Add me to the tags list Erling Haaland masterlist | General masterlist

[sciderman]

I also tried to find that Peter neurodivergent post recently and yup, vanished. But anyway, I just read your post and tags responding to that other person's ask saying they can't find it. I really really don't think you sound stupid (not that I'm a professional either).

That post hit deep for me because as someone very new to getting therapy, it reminded me of my first session (in which I said, do I have audhd or what?). My therapist told me first thing "there's a lot of overlap between these traits you're listing and trauma". I kinda sat back like 🧍she said what's more important is making sure I'm functioning, coping... That not everything needs a label unless I really want one. I went home and asked my housemate (who's currently doing their psychology masters) and she said, "yeah, both often get misdiagnosed for the other".

That kinda changed my whole perspective on everything and so reading your post brought me back to that. Hoo, emotional and stuff,,

Enough rambling though, my points are:

• Thank you for saying that, it meant a lot (I'm kinda crying haha)

• You're right about it all to my knowledge!

• I hope everything's okay with you and you're happy with what stuff will mean for you ❤️ good luck and all that!

(sorry for the essay)

bless you anon!! i'm really proud of you for taking the steps into therapy, and i really hope that it's a helpful experience in getting to understand yourself better! wishing you so, so much luck on your journey, anon!

i definitely think labels aren't for everyone - and sometimes, sometimes they can be a stifling thing. it's a fantastic thing when you need to simplify something to explain to someone else - especially fantastic when you need someone else to make considerations for you. i find i only really use labels when i need someone else to understand something about me in a simple sort of a way. so i say "bisexual" when i need to explain myself quickly, but it's a shorthand, and there's probably a much more complicated label that might fit me better - pan, maybe, but who has time or courage to explain pan to a 50-something-white-guy - certainly not i, so - for ease of understanding, i'll put myself in that box.

i think labels are fantastic when they make your life simpler - but sometimes they can do the adverse when you realise they don't fit as well as you'd thought. when you need a label to fit, and you feel that pressure to fit into it when - actually, actually, you are more complicated than that. then - then, you might realise, the label isn't for you, and you can either hunt down another or - be easy with the fact that you're a unique beast, and not everything will fit all the time. there's overlap, and every brain case is so so unerringly unique to the person.

it's like lgbt+ labels, lord knows, the kids are inventing a new one every week because there's no way to encompass everyone's unique approach to attraction. we can say "this is me, and you might feel similar" and that helps - but truly, no human is 1:1. no experience is 1:1. one of you watched cats (2019) and it irreparably altered your viewpoint on the world once you saw fuzzy idris elba dance on the screen. one of you (mercifully) didn't, and didn't sustain that trauma. you're different.

i hope any explanations you get help you move forwards, anon! but i hope you're also comfortable in the knowledge that there ain't no thing like you, 'cept you! (and i love you)

[viking-raider]

Soothing the Shadows

Summary: You were Marshall's nurse, after he was shot by Simon Stulls. The two of you fall in love, and everything seems perfect, but it's strained by Marshall holding something back from you. His fear of losing you.

Pairing: Walter Marshall/Reader

Word Count: 6.5

Warning: M - Mention of Violence, PTSD, Severe Flashback, Mention of an ugly divorce, Language, Fluff, Alcohol Use, Mental Health battle - SMUT - fingering (F receiving), protected intercourse.

Inspiration: So, for this fic, I sort of meshed Marshall and Sy together into one.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy it! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

Dating a homicide detective wasn't easy. Especially, when that homicide detective was Captain Walter Marshall.

The pair of you had met after Marshall was injured on the job, having been shot by Simon Stulls and his twin brother. You were the nurse that took care of Marshall, while he recovered from the near fatal wound that rendered him in the Intensive Care Unit for two weeks.

“How are we feeling tonight, Captain Marshall?” You asked, breezing into Marshall's private room, with a bright smile, finding your grumpy and sometimes difficult patient in his bed, one massive arm in a sling and the other working the remote control to his tv.

“Hm.” Marshall huffed back at you, rolling his eyes.

You chuckled at him, not taking it personally. “How's your pain level?” You inquired, checking his medical chart to see the notes from his previous nurse, before moving over to examine the vitals on his monitors. “Better than yesterday?” You asked, lifting a brow in his direction, remembering the discomfort he had been in.

“Six.” He rattled off the number, shrugging his good shoulder.

“Would you like me to get you anything for it?”

“No, I'm fine.” Marshall answered, sighing softly, setting the remote down on the little rolling table next to his bed and raked a hand through his hair. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”

“Is our hospitality that bad?” You quipped, giggling at him, hoping to get him to at least smile. “I could phone the manager.”

Marshall looked up, his blue eyes regarding you for a long moment, making you feel like he was reading your soul, before he finally responded. A twinkle in his gaze. “No, I'd hate to complain to the manager. Especially when there's one bright spot in the hospitality.”

“Well that's-” You gulped, shifting in your rubber nurse's clogs. “That's good to know, Captain Marshall.” You told him, a bit sheepish.

“Marshall.” He corrected you, gently. “Just call me, Marshall.”

“Marshall.” You smirked, nodding your head. “I'm glad you enjoy the hospitality. But I also hope you go home soon. I'm sure your daughter is ready for you too.” You said, changing the subject, so the heat in your cheeks would cool off.

“And, your wife.” You added, a small lump in your throat.

“Oh, she's-”

“Code Blue.” The Hospital P.A crackled over the speakers. “Code Blue. All personnel. Code Blue, room eighteen.”

“Oh crap!” You gasped, adrenaline starting to pump through your veins. “I'm so sorry!” You said quickly, before rushing out of his room.

Sadly, you weren't able to see Marshall again. Your code blue patient took up most of your time and when you were finished with them and your other rounds, Marshall had been released to go home. You were happy for him, even though you were a bit sad that you hadn't been able to say goodbye and see him off.

But you got another opportunity to come your way.

“Hey.” One of your co-workers tapped you on the shoulder as you stood at the nurse's station, filling out a medication request. “There's a super handsome guy asking for you.”

You looked up from the computer. “What?” You frowned at her, confused. “Who?”

“I don't know, I didn't get a name. But he's damned sexy.” She chuckled, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Shaking your head, you leaned over the counter of the nurse's station, looking down the hall and towards the doors that allowed entry onto your floor. You were shocked to see Marshall standing there, reading one of the posters on the wall. “Oh my god!” You gasped, quickly pulling back, before he could see you.

“Do you know him?”

“Yeah, he was one of my patients.” You told her, fussing over your black, whimsical bee, scrubs and hair.

“Well, you must like each other.” She commented, watching you with amusement.

“Shut up.” You chuckled, going by her and trying to act natural and calm, despite being nervous beyond belief. “Marshall, what are you doing here? Is everything all right? Is your wound healing?” You asked, trying to be professional.

“Everything's fine.” He smiled at you, instinctively touching his shoulder. “It's healing great.”

“Then, what are you doing here?”

“I-uh-came to see you.” He confessed, biting the inside of his lip. “I wanted to know, if you'd like to get some coffee with me, sometime?” He asked, shoulders stiffening with resolve.

You narrowed your eyes at him, cocking your head to the side. “Aren't you married?”

Marshall drew in a deep breath, tightly folding his arms over his chest. “I was married, yes.” He replied, his face darkening. “Angie and I divorced some time ago. It's complicated and not something I'd like to get into.”

“All right, as long as I'm not being a home wrecker by accepting your offer.” You answered, relieved.

“I assure you, you're not.” Marshall said, relief dancing in his blue eyes. “So, when are you next available?”

You looked down at your watch, tilting your head side to side for a moment. “I can take my lunch break right now.” You told him, meeting his gaze with a smirk.

“All right.” He nodded, turning to push open one of the doors behind him, for you.

That day had changed both your and Marshall's lives. You quickly fell in love with each other and craved each other constantly. But there was a drawback to dating Marshall. You hadn't made that step to move in with each other yet, as much as you wanted too. So, you went to one another's place. It was usually Marshall coming over to your flat though, after he got off from his shift at the station. You would make him dinner and the two of you would cuddle up under a blanket on the couch with a glass of wine, or more specifically, a glass of wine for you and a glass of whiskey for him, to watch a movie or one of the shows the two of you had become interested in together.

“Walter.” You giggled, shifting beneath the heavy comforter the two of you were under, trying to watch Peaky Blinders.

“What?” He husked back, turning his head into the side of your face, moaning softly, while his hand squeezed the inside of your thigh again.

“Keep that naughty hand to yourself, Captain.” You teased, turning your face into his.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Marshall replied, feigning innocence.

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, smelling the sharp honey and caramel of the whiskey on his breath. “What's this?” You asked, rubbing your legs together against his hand.

“Oh, you mean that hand.” He smirked, gently nudging his nose against yours. “I don't know how it got there, but since it is.” He said, pushing it up to cup you through the thin, purple fabric of your panties.

Your gasp melted into a deep whimper, as Marshall started to rub you, watching you through hooded and lusty blue eyes. You turned, pressing your back against the armrest of the couch and opened your legs, giving Marshall full access to your dripping womanhood. He reached under the quilt, not removing it, to keep the chill of the room off of you, as he all but tore your underwear off your body. Tossing them absently over his shoulder and behind the couch, Marshall's hand was back on your privates within a millisecond.

“Oh Christ.” You mewled, arching your back against his hand, his middle finger slipping between your slick folds as he caressed you, teasing you. “Walt, please!” You begged him, pushing the heel of one of your feet into the top of his thigh, nudging his leg impatiently.

“Mm-mm.” He shook his head at you, curving that evil digit into your canal. “I haven't seen you in two days, babe.” He panted, licking his lips. “I want to enjoy it.”

“Then take your fucking shirt off, Marshall!” You barked, outraged and worked up as the tip of his finger grazed your sweet spot.

Marshall laughed, “That requires me to take my hand off of you.” He pointed out, amused by your situation.

You dropped your head back on the couch arm, then sat up, shivering as Marshall's finger reached different angles, and grabbed at his shirt. Bunching the knitted material in your hands, you yanked on it until you managed to pull it off over his head, then tossed it in his face for extra drama. Making him chuckle and toss it back at you, before driving his finger deep into your spot. Caught off guard, your hand flew out, clawing into the exposed skin at the top of his shoulder and leaving very angry crescents behind in their wake.

“Lord have mercy, Marshall!” You cried out, your head flying back, while you rocked on his hand.

“Lay back.” He purred at you, planting a kiss to your fingers. “Let me make you feel good.”

“You always do, Donut.” You teased, laying back again, tugging the blanket up over you as you did.

Marshall blushed slightly at your nickname for him. “I try, Angel.” He replied, gently working his finger inside of you, crooking it to tease your walls, knowing all the places to hit.

Your toes curled and you moaned softly, eyes rolling shut as you rutted against his hand, rolling your hips. Marshall looked at your face, a soft smirk on his own, seeing the pure pleasure you were in. He slipped in a second and started rubbing your clit with his thumb, drawing out a loud sigh from you. The want to keep that look on your face forever was so strong inside of Marshall. You were relaxed in the essence of pleasure and bliss, with no care in the world, other than what his fingers were doing to you.

“Walter, please!” You begged him, brows drawing together as you looked down your face at him.

Smirking, Walter freed his fingers from inside of you and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you into his lap and a heady kiss. He moved to the edge of the couch and stood, taking you with him, supporting you against his body as he carried you to the bedroom, one big paw rubbing firm circles over your back to keep the flat's chill away, until getting there.

“Why do you keep it so cold in here?” Marshall commented, resting you on the bed.

“I don't know. Guess I'm just used to the chill of the hospital. I don't really pay attention to it, until you show up.” You replied, giggling as you pushed the blankets to the foot of the bed.

“I should start a fire.” He said, glancing at the enclosed fireplace, in the corner of your room, as he stood at the side of your bed, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his tree-trunk thighs.

“You already started one.” You cooed at him, licking your lips at the titanic tent in the front of his boxer briefs, reaching out to palm it through the black material. “A big one, Bear.” You hummed, feeling the hot beast that lived within throb against your palm.

Marshall's eyes fluttered back into their sockets as you fondled him, pressing himself against your hand, growling deep in his throat and chest. You smirked up at him, leaning forward to press your lips to his hairy belly. Smoothing your palm upwards, you curled your fingers around the elastic waistband and slowly peeled his boxers down. Even with anticipation, your eyes grew and you gasped silently, when Marshall's thick and veiny, cut cock sprang heavily free from the confines of the garment.

Reaching into your bedside drawer, you removed a square object from inside and tossed it on one of the pillows, before looking at Marshall.

“Come to me.” You whispered, removing your shirt and heading up the bed.

Looking you over, like a hungry wolf, Marshall stalked up the bed towards you. Moving over you and nuzzling his face into your neck, he nibbled and kissed at the skin there and at your shoulder, while his hands smoothed down your sides, touching every inch of your body. You felt the rub of Marshall's beard as he left love-bites you'd be feeling during your shift later tomorrow. But that didn't bother you, you wanted to feel Walter with you. Always. You had one hand tugging at the curls at the back of his head and the other clawing into one cheek of his rump, as he grabbed at your knees, shoving them wide open to buck against you, his cock dripping against your slickness, mixing with the ultimate finale.

It didn't take love for Marshall's thought of lighting a fire to become nonsensical, the two of you were heated and glistening with sweat, from your combined actions and feelings. Perspiration pearled down Marshall's vast back as he pulled away from you, only slightly, his darkened blue eyes meeting yours in a hungry and sultry gaze, that sent a chill so powerful through your burning body, goose-flesh was raised.

“Mine.” He growled, in a deep pant.

“All yours.” You gulped back, nodding and sucking your lip between your teeth.

Marshall sat up between your legs, and you grabbed at the item you had tossed on the pillow earlier. It was a condom. You tore it open and took out the opaque-red and lubricated rubber, tossing the packaging carelessly to the floor, while Marshall grasped himself at the root, the head of his member changing a shade of purple, to hold his thick cock steady. You carefully rolled the protection down over his length, marveled at how it looked, snug over the throbbing veins. Wrapping your hand around the head of Walter's manhood, you stroked it downward, ensuring the sleeve was secure in place, before reaching up to grab him by the shoulder and pull him down into a heated kiss.

While you kissed, Marshall lined himself up with your weeping entrance. It never seemed mattered how many times the two of you were intimate, you never quite grew accustomed to Marshall's sheer size. Even with the help of being aroused and lubricated, there was always that initial stretch of him easing inside of you, of his girth reshaping you for the billionth time in the two years you had been dating. But it quickly subsided into something so marvelously euphoric, that you couldn't help the soft smile that crossed your lips or the curl of your toes.

He wrapped his arms around you, pressing you against his body, an arm encircling your waist and the other around your shoulders, his knees planted into the mattress, as he rocked into you. The wood headboard smacked against the wall behind it, keeping time with each thrust. Thankfully, it was an outer wall, so your next door neighbor wasn't too bothered by the noise, and he was used to your and Marshall's love making, by now.

Good and patient, Preston.

“Christ, Marshall!” You cried out, your walls kneading around him, feeling every furious movement that begged his manhood to release his magic and bring you both into a world of unimaginable bliss.

“Fuck, babe.” He panted back, his hot breath wafting over the skin of your face.

He pressed his temple against yours, letting out small whimpers of effort and moans of pleasure in random intervals. His thrusts lost rhythm and became rougher, as he neared his climax, your own aiding the effort. Marshall throbbed inside of your quivering walls and you felt the muscles of his stomach clench and become rock hard. He made his tell-tale sound, a soft, groaning sigh, as he unloaded inside of the protective barrier between you. Nonetheless, your slick canal struggled to keep a hold of Marshall's unloading and still working cock, feeling it surge inside of you. Your back arched, pushing yourself up against his clenched stomach, nails racking down his sweaty back.

“Marshall!” You cried out, shuttering with each wave of pleasure that washed through you. “Oh god, Marshall.” You whimpered, slowly lowering yourself back down, spent. “I love you.” You sighed softly, after a few moments to catch your breath.

Marshall rolled you both onto your sides, tucking your head under his chin and against his chest. “I love you too.” He whispered back, hugging you hard against him, fingers tangling in the back of your hair.

You struggled to stay awake, not wanting to fall asleep, knowing what it meant, if you did. But you were spent from a long shift, the previous night, little sleep and the exhausted pull of your love making. Soon enough, you were snoring into Marshall's collarbone. But, when you woke with a jolt a few hours later, your heart thundering in your chest, a good enough fire in the fireplace to keep your room warm, but not roast you alive, however you were alone.

“Marshall?” You called out, hoping—praying, he was just watching tv in the living room like he did, on rare occasions. “Donut!” You yelled out a little louder, turning to grab your shirt off the floor and padded into the living room, but found it cold, quiet and empty.

You sighed, realizing Marshall had left. Turning, you went down the hall to the guest room bath and discovered the mirror was still foggy. Marshall would go there to take a shower, before he left, so he wouldn't wake you by using your master bathroom. Usually, when he showered at your place, it meant he was heading straight back into the station to work some more, without bothering to go home. You wondered how many hours your boyfriend had slept, before sneaking off into the night.

“Just one night, Walter Marshall.” You whimpered, stripping your shirt off as you headed to bed again. “That's all I ask of you. Stay one fucking night with me, without vanishing like some sort of ghost.” You sighed, crawling under the blankets.

Marshall scrubbed at his eyes, while trying to focus on the police report in front of him, Harper had given him a new case to work on. It was a double homicide with a few lead suspects, but no solid proof on which of them it could possibly be. He was hitting his wit's end, three shifts, with a four hour sleep between two of them, crashed out on the small couch in his office. He'd only spoken to you through text messages through that time. The two of you had tried to meet up for lunch, but one of his suspects had been hauled into the station and he had to cancel it, so he could interrogate them.

A soft knock sounded on his office door and Commissioner Harper popped in. “How's the case going?” He asked, depositing himself into a chair across from Marshall.

The Brit drew in a deep breath and let it out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That well, huh?” The older law enforcement officer chuckled. “When was the last time you went home?” He inquired, seeing the dark circles under Marshall's bloodshot blue eyes.

Marshall looked at his watch. “Nine hours ago, to shower.” He replied, shooting Harper a look.

“You need to head home.” Harper snorted, shaking his head. “Don't you have a new lady in your life?” He said, lifting a brow at Walter, critically. “You shouldn't be keeping hours at the station, like you were when you were a bachelor, Marshall. I'm sure it drives her fucking crazy.”

“I know.” Marshall sighed heavily, knowing Harper was right. “It does.”

You had scolded Marshall several times about working himself into the ground and not getting a proper night's sleep. He wasn't a bachelor anymore, preferring to be at the station, then sitting alone, in the deafening emptiness of his flat. He definitely was a husband in the middle of getting a divorce, where he'd rather work eighteen hour shifts, against the alternative of going home to another argument or silent treatment from his soon-to-be ex-wife and making his daughter's life a nightmare.

He had you now, and was still acting like he didn't.

“You're right.” He said, flipping the case file closed and locking it away in his desk. “I am going to take the rest of the day off.” He nodded, stretching to his feet.

“And tomorrow.” Harper added, giving Marshall a stern look.

Marshall stared at him for a long moment, before slowly nodding. “Tomorrow as well.” He conceded, grabbing his jacket from the hook at the back of his office door.

“Hey.” Harper paused, as he stepped out into the hall, turning back to Marshall. “Surprise her. Women love that stuff.” He smirked, giving him a teasing wink before heading off to his own office.

“Yeah.” Marshall nodded, chewing on the inside of his lip.

Thankfully, he knew you had the day off, which made surprising you all the easier to do.

Marshall stopped by his place first, taking a quick shower and changed. Washed up and freshly changed, Marshall went to a small floral shop to get a bouquet of your favorite flowers, then crossed town to your takeaway spot, ordering your favorite dish with something to hit your sweet tooth, before finally heading over to your flat.

Situating things in his hands, Marshall knocked on your door and waited for you to answer, his heart pounding for a reason he couldn't put his finger on. At least, until the door cracked open and you peeked out, then his pulse calmed.

“Hey, Sugar butt.” He grinned at you, enjoying the surprised expression on your face.

You swung the door open, excited to see Marshall. “What are you doing here, Donut? I thought you had to work!” You said, bouncing on your toes towards him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I got some sound advice, and I decided to take it.” He replied, bending his head to kiss the top of yours. “So, I have the rest of the day off, and was told I'm taking tomorrow off as well.” He told you, holding up the bag of food and your bouquet of flowers.

“There's no one else I want to spend it with.”

“What about Fae?” You asked, your tone teasing.

Marshall rolled his eyes at you. “I'm far too boring and uncool.” He huffed, shaking his head.

“Well, you're entertaining and cool enough for me, Donut.” You giggled, pulling him into your flat.

“Thank the heavens for that.” He smiled, letting you drag him inside and into the kitchen.

“What did you get me?” You asked, dying to know what he had in the takeaway bag.

“Things you eat.” Marshall smirked, side eyeing you. “Hey, hands off!” He chuckled, batting your hand away from the bag. “Go pour us something to drink, Sugar butt!” He said, popping you on the butt and kissed your neck.

“My sweet detective, you drank all your Rich & Rare whiskey, the last time you were here.” You informed him, giving him a gentle pat on the chest.

“Oh fuck, I did.” Marshall sighed, his shoulders slumping a little.

You smiled, moving around him to go into a cabinet. “Luckily for you, you have a very thoughtful partner.” You said, pulling down a bottle of the amber colored spirit. “Who noticed it and bought another bottle for you.”

Marshall turned around, cracking a smile at you. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” He asked, reaching out to cup your face.

You nuzzled his hand for a moment, before answering. “You got shot.” You deadpanned.

“Right.” He nodded, taking the bottle from you, then turned back to the food, pulling it out and putting it on the counter, before taking down plates.

You took down glasses and set one of them next to the plates, before grabbing your chilled bottle of wine out of the refrigerator, wiggling your brows at Walter as he moved by you for the fridge himself. Winking at you, Marshall grabbed a black case from inside the freezer and turned back, smirking as he found you already nibbling on your food. Shaking his head, he set the case on the counter and opened it, before cracking the seal on the bottle of whiskey, pouring some into his glass.

“So, how was your day?” He asked, opening the case and lifting a brow in your direction.

“It's been good.” You answered, getting your takeaway on the plate. “Slept a whole extra hour and a half.” You snorted, smirking to yourself. “Took a bath, instead of a shower, which felt incredible, and started to catch up with all of the shows I'm behind on.”

“Sounds like a day off well spent.” Marshall nodded, pulling out a pair of small tongs and removed a medium sized, chilled, black whiskey stone that was nestled inside and placed it in his glass. “I hope mine goes as well.”

“Well, we can make that happen.” You told him, holding a fork out to him.

Marshall grinned at you, taking the fork. “Yeah, we can.”

The two of you took your food and drinks to the couch, finding something to watch together, while you ate. You smirked, however, watching your Donut doze on and off, his plate balanced on his knee. Setting your plate on the coffee table, you gently took his and set it beside yours, you grabbed his hand and coaxed him up to his feet.

“Mmm.” He grunted, responding to your nudges towards the bedroom.

“Ssshh.” You cooed back, not wanting him to stir from the soft doze he'd fallen into.

Getting him to your room, you lightly pushed him back, to sit on your bed, stifling your giggle at his 'umph' as he landed. Kneeling down, you untied the laces of his boots, biting your lip as you gingerly pulled them off, but Marshall barely stirred as they came free from his feet. You managed to get his shirt off, before laying him back on the bed and covering him up.

“Sleep tight, detective.” You whispered, stroking the curls off his forehead for a moment, listening to his deep and easy breathing.

Tip-toeing out of the room, you gathered up the hardly touched plates and wrapped them up, storing them away in the refrigerator for later on, carefully poured the remaining whiskey Marshall hadn't polished off into the bottle, rinsing the stones, slipping them back into their case and into the freezer. Rubbing your face, you stripped and crawled into bed with Marshall, snuggling in against his side with a smile, excited to be falling asleep with him, knowing there was a high likelihood he'd be there, when you woke up.

What you hadn't expected was how you woke up with Marshall.

You were too deeply asleep to even dream, comfortable and warm. It was pure heaven, that you were hardly aware of the loud bang, likely someone slamming a door shut or the lid of a dumpster being dropped; nothing that was significant enough to draw you from your slumber. Nothing, but the jolt and gasp beside you. You started to pull to the surface of consciousness, struggling to understand what was going on, before you felt a pair of abnormally strong tentacles wrap around your frame. Jerking you against something solid, the air was knocked out of your lungs. While you were dragged over the edge of the bed, your stomach clenched as you dropped to the floor, crying out at the force of the sudden stop.

Realization flooded you, feeling the huffing, puffing and mountainous body of Marshall move over you, one arm still crushing around your middle to pin you against him, one thick thigh wedged between yours. If you didn't know Walter as well as you did, you probably would have started screaming at the position he had you in.

But you knew him, and you knew there was something deeply wrong with your boyfriend. Even your nursing instincts were going off for something being out of place. Marshall was panting like a wounded animal, his nostrils flaring with each breath, every muscle in his body was rock hard and rigid, but he was trembling. His teeth were gritted, like he was in pain and his blue eyes were wide and on high alert, as if he was waiting for something to happen.

“Marshall?” You whispered, apprehensive to make a sound, almost afraid that he'd snap at you, but his arm only tightened, making you hiss and wiggle underneath him, but he only held you tighter. “All right.” You groaned, relaxing to rest your forehead against the carpet, taking a deep breath of relief when his arm eased against your stomach.

You racked your brain, he was a horror hardened Detective for the Manitoba police force, what could cause Marshall to react to this extreme? Could this be a flashback from Simon?

You took a deep breath, knowing you had to help Marshall out of this, to let him know he was in a safe place. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for whatever reaction he gave you. Wiggling your arm out from underneath of your body, ignoring his attempt to keep you still, you propped yourself up the best you could under his weight.

“Marshall.” You said, keeping your voice calm and as if nothing was wrong, reaching back to rest your hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It's all right, Walt. It's just a flashback.” You told him, pressing your head against his chest. “I'm all right. We're all right.” You reassured him, moving your hand to his neck, beginning to massage the tight muscles there.

“We're safe. There's nothing and no one here to harm us. I promise.”

“Unless, you look in my closet and notice the alarming ratio of scrub outfits to regular ones.” You said, making yourself giggle, hoping a light joke would cause a crack in the wall of his PTSD, since Marshall had always enjoyed your sense of humor.

But Walter didn't seem to react to any of it, though you didn't allow yourself to become discouraged.

“What can I do?” You cooed at him, wondering what was going through his mind. “Please, tell me how I can help you, Donut?”

Marshall abruptly stopped trembling against you and seemed to relax on top of you, but didn't move any farther. You took the win, patiently waiting to see if he made any further improvements. They took several more moments, with you still massaging his neck and just laying there with him, but Marshall finally seemed to regain some sense of himself.

“I'm sorry.” He mumbled, moving off of you at last.

You floundered for a moment, sitting up to rest your back against the side of your bed, unsure how to reply. “Mar-” You started, only to have him jump to his feet and storm into your en suite, slamming and locking the door behind him. “Okay.” You sighed, nodding curtly at the door. “You need space.” You said, to the air, then pulled yourself up and pulled on a pair of shorts shorts with a tank top.

Going out to the kitchen, you made yourself a cup of tea, pausing for a moment as you carried it out of the kitchen to fortify it with a small splash of Marshall's whiskey, before going to sit in the living room. You stared at the turn off tv, regarding your blurry reflection as you thought about what had happened in the bedroom with Marshall, then abruptly locked himself in the bathroom. The shower had turned on not long afterwards, making you suppose he was taking one to wake himself up and clear his head. You were still worried about him though, he had just turned into a statue after yanking you off the bed like that, forcing you to be still, like he was afraid something would happen, if either of you moved.

An hour and all your hot water later, Marshall emerged from your bedroom, his eyes pointed at the floor as he stood just passed the doorway. You set your empty cup on the coffee table and turned to look at him over the back of the couch, his wet curls were combed back off his forehead, making him look almost boyish.

“I'm sorry.” He mumbled again, folding his arms tightly over his chest, still refusing to look at you.

“I know you're sorry, Marshall.” You whispered back at him, your heart aching. “Please, sit down with me?” You begged, patting the cushion beside you.

Marshall lingered in place for a moment, before shuffling over to you and sitting down, arms still crossed. You stared at the circular and slightly puckered scar just below his collarbone, the purplish skin stood out in stark contrast to the pale skin of his chest, lightly hidden under the dark fur that covered his torso.

“I'm sorry, if I scared you.” Marshall elaborated more on his apology. “I also understand, if you don't want to see me anymore.” He added, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly.

“What?” You giggled, surprised. “Why would I break up with you, Marshall?”

He finally looked at you, brows creased like it was obvious. “Because of what just happened.” He growled, his jaw muscles flexing. “I could have hur-” His eyes searched you for any marks, an almost frantic look coming into them.

“You didn't hurt me, Walter.” You assured him. “You startled the hell out of me, with that wake up. You've caused me to be very concerned. But hurt me, you have not.”

“This time.” He mumbled, relaxing back into his broodiness.

“Tell me what happened, Donut.” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “I know you had a flashback. Why? Was it because of Simon?”

Marshall sighed, bouncing his leg. “It wasn't Simon.” He replied, licking his lips. “Before I was a homicide detective, I was in the British Army, I served three tours.” He paused and regarded you, deciding it was time to give you everything.

“I met Angela after I finished boot camp. She was in London for a holiday. We hit it off, and started a long distance relationship. I went on my first tour and everything was reasonably fine. I rose through the ranks quickly through my tours, I initially intended to be career Army. But between the second tour and my last one, Angie got pregnant with Fae. Which complicated things. Angie didn't want to raise her away from her parents in Manitoba, she also didn't want me being in the British Army, since it meant I'd be stationed overseas, away from them and being deployed constantly.”

“That is quite the situation.” You nodded, folding your legs on the cushion.

“It was.” Marshall nodded, his eyes distant. “My second tour had been rough, it was the first time I was given command of a squad of men. We got through it and all my men got home. But that's when some of my PTSD started. Loud noises would make me start or put me on edge. It was my last deployment, when I didn't renew my contract, so I could move to Canada with Angie and Fae, that it went through the roof. My men and I got pinned down by a group of rebels and I ended up losing two of them, despite the effort to keep them alive.” He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing on an imaginary spot on the rug.

“Marshall?” You whispered, reaching out to rest your hand on his knee, feeling the muscle there jump slightly.

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head, his gaze clearing. “That's when I started having reactive flashbacks, like tonight. At first, Angie took them in stride. I thought they'd be better if I was back in 'that environment', so I joined the Manitoba SWAT team, and it worked for a short time. But Angie worried that was just as dangerous as being in the Army and didn't want Fae losing me.” He sighed, rubbing his face. “She had a point. SWAT could be just as dangerous at times. Get a person in the corner, when they're desperate, it doesn't matter if you're in a war-zone. They'll do anything to get out of that spot. Including killing you.”

“So, what happened?” You asked, biting your lip.

“I transferred to homicide.” He chuckled, smirking like he couldn't believe it himself. “Anyway, over time, Angie couldn't take my flashbacks anymore and we slept in separate bedrooms for the last four years of our marriage. They were a catalyst for our divorce.” He admitted, pressing his lips together, pained. “She even used them to gain full custody of Fae. Like, I was some sort of danger to my own daughter.”

“I don't think you're dangerous, Marshall.” You confessed, moving closer to him.

Marshall huffed at you. “Yeah, that's because I won't allow myself to fall asleep around you.”

“This is why you ghost me after we've made love?” You asked, looking at him wide eyed.

“Yes.” He nodded, staring back at you. “I'm terrified of something like that happening and losing you because of it.” He barked, jerking a hand towards the bedroom. “That I'll have an episode and I'll hurt you or it's just too much baggage for you to take.”

“Oh, you sweet Donut.” You giggled at him, grinning. “When was the last time you even had a flashback, before tonight?”

“I don't know!” He barked, raking a hand through his damp hair. “Two or three years.”

“That's not bad!” You said, wrapping your arms around his. “And we made it through this one.”

“I don't want you to make it through them.” He whined at you, looking like a hurt puppy.

“Walter Donut Marshall, I helped you get through being shot.” You grinned at him, stubbornly. “I'm pretty darn sure, I can help you through more flashbacks. You're not going to scare me away. I'm not going to break up with you. I love you, you silly Detective.” You cupped his bearded face in your palms.

“Stop running away from me, let me love you, shadows and all.”

“I have some dark shadows.” He whispered, turning his head to kiss your hand.

“Don't we all, Donut? Don't we all!” You giggled, kissing him soundly on the mouth.

[dramaticvhs]

7 fics with 100k+ words (Teen Wolf)

I don't make a habit of reading longer fics because I get migraines and once I'm invested I can't bring myself to put them down. even if you're like me and don't read long fics, i encourage you to give these a try if they interest you. these are the longest ones I have bookmarked and I hope you enjoy them as much as I have ❤️

read tags. some fics may contain sensitive content. check pairings, ones included on this list might not be your cup of tea.

1. Don't Savage The Messenger by exclamation

(Sterek, Explicit, Graphic Depictions of Violence, 172,379 words)

There is an uneasy truce between the werewolves in the woods and the humans who live in Beacon Hills, protected by a magical boundary that gives warning any time a werewolf crosses it. Then the sheriff is taken by the werewolves and his son offers himself in exchange.

Stiles promises to serve the werewolf pack, not knowing what horrible use they might have for him. But it turns out his most useful skill is the ability to cross the boundary line between humans and werewolves. Life with the werewolves is nothing like he feared and the werewolves themselves are nothing like the hunters' stories would have him believe.

2. Bodies Can Be Bought But the Heart Cannot Be Owned; Only Given Freely by kyrene

(Sterek, Explicit, Underage and Rape/Non-con, 102,965 words)

In a world where the human race is enslaved by the werewolf race, Derek Hale struggles to recover from the damage caused to his teenage self by the human, Kate Argent. More to the point, he doesn't believe that slavery is right. But each werewolf gets a personal slave when they become an adult and he's long overdue.

The moment he sets eyes on the filthy, naked slave in the corner of the packed warehouse, Derek knows he has to bring him home. But can he ever gets Stiles, who has never known a kind owner before, to trust that he's finally found a safe place?

3. My, What Big Shoulders You Have (The Better to Help You Carry the Weight) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(Sterek, Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, 285,568 words)

“Talia was just telling me an interesting story,” his dad informed him. Stiles didn’t have the nerve to glance over at him, because he knew no matter how much he argued, the proof was all there. The wolves had found him, Parrish had picked him up on the side of the road, he had a fucking picture on his phone. He was screwed. No point in arguing, all it’d do is piss his father off even more.

“You don’t say,” Stiles offered slowly. “What uh—you know, I like stories. Is it a uh, good one?”

“It seems to be a matter of opinion,” Talia said with another kind smile. “I hear you had quite the night last night.”

Okay, time to cut his losses. He was already fucked, all he could do was apologize and hope she didn’t press for him to get fined and arrested. Given he was her husband’s friend’s son, he had high hopes.

“I’m really sorry,” Stiles blurted out. “It was stupid and-and irresponsible and just—I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have crossed into your territory. I should’ve known better, I do know better! It was a complete lapse in judgement and I am just—I am so sorry.”

4. Where the Real Beasts Are by kaistrex (weishen)

(Sterek, Explicit, Graphic Depictions of Violence, 109,100)

Crown Prince Stiles is gifted a direwolf on his eighteenth birthday by King Gerard I of Venatia. The only instruction? Never remove the collar.

Stiles never has been one to do as he’s told.

5. But I Know (a love like this will end in tragedy) by LadySlytherin

(Steter, Explicit, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, 175,687 words)

What happens when you combine outstanding medical bills with a werecoyote ex-something-or-other, who doesn't understand boundaries?

In Stiles' case, the answer is: Peter Hale as a sugar daddy.

Stiles knew doing this with Peter was probably a bad idea. He knew it wouldn't be easy. He knew his friends wouldn't understand. Stiles also knew he was going to do it anyway.

6. What the Hell Is This, Baywatch? by Jenetica

(Melissa McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Explicit, Graphic Depictions of Violence and Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, 101,913 words)

The summer Melissa expected: A happy reunion with Scott after his junior year of college, a slight uptick in work at the hospital, and a generally quiet couple of months.

The summer Melissa did not expect: A strangely tolerable friendship with Lydia Martin, a hellish bout of supernatural antics, and Stiles Stilinski turning into a hot lifeguard who’s decided he wants to spend his summer giving her some kind of sex-fueled conniption.

Guess which one she gets.

7. Divided Loyalties by LennaNightrunner

(Stackson, Explicit, Underage, 154,031 words)

Jackson returns home after a month spent in London trying (and failing) to start the next phase of his life there. Knowing now from experience that he’d be a fool to try to make it as a werewolf on his own, he asks Derek to take him in as a beta. Derek agrees on the condition that Jackson will do as he’s told. Jackson hopes that, despite the mess left in the wake of the Kanima, he might be able to repair his life in Beacon Hills. Of course, things haven’t really been going the way Jackson has hoped lately...

[mrbexwrites]

Writerly Questionnaire Tag

Tagged by @cowboybrunch a long while back- sorry Sav that it's taken me so long to get to this!

About You

When did you start writing?

I've always sort of written- ever since I could write. It's just been one of those innate parts of me, that I can't really pinpoint exactly when it started. I've always had a catalogue of stories in my head, but it's only been recently (since 2020-ish) that I've made a conscious effort to set time aside and write. I've been writing novels/WIPS since I was a teenager, but always on/off. (It took me close to ten years to finish my first WIP because I wasn't very strict about writing time!)

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write?

I love Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Crime, Thrillers, etc as a reader, and I mostly write urban fantasy. That said, if someone gifts me a book, I will read it- regardless of genre- which has allowed me to read some amazing stuff (and equally terrible books!) that I wouldn't normally pick up.

Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared?

I think my writing style is probably closest to Jacqueline Carey (or at least, who I like to think my writing is comparable to, but it could just be that she writes first person pov fantasy books, and that's where the similarity ends!) There are so many Writblrs on here who I am just in awe of and would happily sell my soul to have half as much talent as them @words-after-midnight @sarahlizziewrites @queen-tashie @cowboybrunch @surroundedbypearls... the list is exhaustive, and I can't just copy/paste my mutuals onto this, as otherwise, it'll probably be marked as spam!!

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)? (Room, coffee shop, desk, etc.)

I mostly write in my bed with my laptop, because I am a goblin. I do have a desk, but I don't really use it as it's a Work From Home space that was leftover from lockdown, and I don't want to associate fun-hobby with real-life-work-shit. So bed or sofa, mostly, curled under a blanket with a cup of tea.

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse?

I stick in my headphones, listen to the music on my old MP3 player (honestly, it's so old guys, it has all the songs I've enjoyed since my first 128mps MP3 player- nothing gets deleted, just added.) and I go for a walk. I'm lucky to have a small loch/nature reserve near my house, so I walk through that, enjoying the surroundings while my brain soaks in the familiar music, and just resets my creative juices.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about?

I think so- I definitely have a dark sense of humour thanks to my job, but also just Scottish people in general. We're bleak for the most part- limited sunlight and a lot of rain will do that to a people. Memento Mori Part I is set mostly in an area of Glasgow that I'm familiar with. The canal that I used to cycle along on my way to work features quite heavily.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

Found-family, building the life you want, trying to be a better person despite the odds, trying to do the right thing...I have noticed a pattern with the tropes that I add to all my characters, in addition to the trauma I give them. Therapy is expensive, and OCs are easy to come by!

Your Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.)

Mavis is my current favourite, mostly because I've been writing her story. She's more fun than my usual OCs, because she doesn't give a f*ck, and that's really liberating. Morgana is dear to my heart, but she carries a lot of my anxiety. Ylarae, my first proper OC from a book series that I started to write over twenty years ago (f*ck, I'm so old) will always be my favourite however; she took a lot of my childhood/teenaged angst and just rolled with it.

Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life?

Morgana, because we're so similar. We'd probably meet in a support group for generalised anxiety! But I'd *love* to be friends with Avery, because they're everything I'm not; carefree, exuberant and hedonistic!

Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them?

Caleb- he has a lot of my exes' personality traits (like I said, OCs are easier to come by than therapy!). My antagonists, I mostly try to humanise and try to understand their reasoning, but Caleb is just a c*nt. 👍

Tell me about the process of coming up with of one, all, or any of your characters.

My brain hallucinates them, and just makes them... They just appear. That's pretty much all there is to it. I don't know how it happens...it just does.

Do you notice any recurring themes/traits among your characters?

Lip biting; I didn't realise how much my OCs bite/chew their own lips. It's only when I re-read a first draft, I'm like "Again?! Really!". I add it a lot, apparently.

How do you picture them? (As real people you imagined, as models/actors who exist in real life, as imaginary artwork, as artwork you made or commissioned, anime style, etc.)

Because they just pop into my head, they appear as their own people, fully visualised by my imagination. I'd love to commission some art, but then I'd have to try to help someone else see the picture that I see in my head when I think of that character, and we all know, my descriptions are shit! But that said, I'd like to see what an artist would be able to come up with based on my ramblings! In a morbid curiosity kind of way!

Your Writing

What’s your reason for writing?

As previously stated- it's always been a bit of a thing. I just like to make up little stories and write them down.

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers?

Tbh, any sort of attention is nice, and bonus points if it's something nice, or constructively critical. I'm aware that I;m not a *great* writer, but I'd like to get better. So a comment saying something went well, or could be improved upon by using x or y, is always appreciated. I'm my own worst critic, so having some outside perspective is reassuring but also terrifying!

How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question.)

I swing between thinking I'm a genius at times, then feel guilty about being a narcissist! Whilst at the same time, cringing internally at how basic and lame my WIPs are. There is no middle ground- it's these two moods or nothing. Good/Bad, nothing in between, but seeing other people's posts, it seems to just be a writer thing, which is very reassuring to me.

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write?

Probably- It would fill the time, and probably help me manage my anxiety about the lack of clean drinking water, food, antibiotics, the horror of watching everyone else I love die, the guilt of being the sole survivor....the crushing weight of reality...

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence?

I write for me, and me only. It's nice if other people enjoy it, but ultimately, I'm never going to be a published author, and I enjoy the freedom of just being able to write my silly little WIPs. I don't have the energy to keep myself happy, let alone other people!!