#and I hadn’t had any caffeine before I went to bed

[cozwalt]

The worst part about having a mental illness that is at best managed, is those moments where after a while of doing pretty good and managing stress okay, you have a full blown attack and you’re like yeah I forgot. I have that .

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 5

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 4 | Series Masterlist | Part 6

Chapter Summary: You talk to Addison, but may have dug a deeper hole for yourself. Bucky has a chat with you, too.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dubcon phone sex, dirty talk, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, reader is trying to stay calm, needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you again for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. I no longer do taglists, so please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. It never rang that early, minus the occasional call from the shop to see if you could go in early. With a groan, you opened your eyes halfway to glance at the device. You closed them when your vision cleared to read the name.

Bucky.

“Mmm. Too early for that,” you mumbled, rolling over to hug your pillow as the call went to voicemail.

He messaged you after you told him you had plans for the night, but you didn't read it. In fact, you hadn't glanced at your phone for the remainder of the evening after you got ready for bed. You only knew of the messages since your phone kept digging. You went through the rest of your normal routine and fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. The date took a lot out of you.

Was it a good idea to ignore him though? This was a man used to getting what he wanted and for things to be done his way. There was a chance he wouldn't take you not responding to him well. Well, if he “cared” about you the way he claimed, he’d have to deal with it. Besides, it hadn't even been half a day since you spoke to him.

You bolted upright at the knock on the apartment door. “What the hell?” You whispered, pushing the covers back. Forcing yourself out of bed, you threw on your robe before you went to answer it. Your heart thudded as you looked through the peephole, half expecting to see Bucky on the other side. Your shoulders relaxed when you didn’t see anyone, but you only opened the door a crack.

A familiar scent filled your nostrils as you opened it more. It reminded you of the bakery you liked to visit once a week. Homey, warm, comforting. But your stomach turned when you spotted the bag since you hadn’t ordered anything.

Glancing down each side of the hall to make sure no one was there, you snatched up the bag and locked your door. Your lip wobbled when you looked inside and saw the note on top of the container. It matched the handwriting from the note in your bedroom.

“Most important meal of the day. Enjoy.”

You had half a mind to throw it out, but your grumbling stomach protested. It was your usual when you stopped into that bakery and for good reason since it was delicious. It should’ve been a nice gesture. It should’ve put a smile on your face. But how could it be when Bucky didn’t learn those things about you naturally?

The doorbell rang again as you got to the table, your heart jolting from the sound and the bag dropping to the surface. “Get a grip,” you whispered, going back to the door. Maybe Bucky could send you to a spa so you could try to relax. Not that you would ask him. He wasn’t your boyfriend.

Didn’t matter how rich he was.

You looked through the peephole again, smiling when you saw Addison on the other side. She bounced on the balls of her feet, her caffeine likely kicking in already. “Hey,” you greeted her when you opened the door.

“Hey yourself!” Addison smiled, pulling you in for a hug. She raised an eyebrow as she stepped back and took a good look at you. “How are you?”

“I’m great. Never better,” you tried to smile, stepping aside so she could go in. Guilt crept in from not being honest with a simple question. You weren't great at all. “Is everything okay?”

“Yep. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to stop by so early, that’s all," you replied, double checking the lock on the door.

“I thought I’d swing by to check on you before I went to work. I didn't hear from you after I texted you and you’re usually really great about texting me back, so I wasn't sure if you were upset that we had to reschedule our plans or if something else was going on.” She paused when your face fell. You were so busy ignoring Bucky that you forgot to reply to her. “Maybe upset isn’t the right word, but bummed? I know we haven’t had much girl time lately outside of my wedding stuff.”

“I'm so sorry. I’m not upset. Last night just got away from me,” you assured her. “Bummed, I’ll give you that.” You added teasingly.

“Are you sure? I feel bad for bailing.”

“Please, don't,” you said. She had no reason to feel bad. “You get to go to The Terrace tonight, which is amazing. I don’t blame you at all for rescheduling.”

Brady was not only a nice guy and a hard worker, but he practically worshiped the ground Addison walked on. He would spoil her rotten if he could. He just wanted to make her happy and she wanted the same for him. It was the kind of relationship you admired.

Addison nudged you with a smile. “Have I told you how awesome you are? And right? I couldn’t believe it when Brady told me. It’s The Terrace!”

“You two will have a great time.” You said, leading her to the table so you didn't have to linger by the door. They deserved a nice night out. “Okay, I’m being nosy, but did he happen to say how he got the reservation? I mean, they’re usually pretty booked.”

“So, listen to this,” she began as she sat down. She had your full attention. “His new boss pulled him into his office yesterday and told him what a great job he’s been doing. Gave him a bonus and everything for all his hard work and said to celebrate by taking me out for dinner at a place of his choosing. He said ‘The Terrace’ thinking there’s no possible way, right?”

“Right,” You said, taking the food out of the bag and being careful to not let her see the note. “Do you want some?”

“No thanks. I ate before I left, but that looks amazing,” she said before she continued. “Two phone calls later, there was a table booked for us! I think he was a little embarrassed when he told me since someone else technically pulled some strings for him, but I don’t care. He works his ass off and it’s about time it was recognized.”

“I agree,” you said, replaying the words in your mind. “Wait, did you say new boss?”

“Yeah, just started a couple of weeks ago. Kind of surprised Brady since his old boss still had a year or so left, but he took early retirement. And the new boss takes his job pretty seriously, but seems like a good guy from what I’ve heard.”

You swallowed heavily. “What… What’s his name? The new boss?”

Addison’s brows furrowed as you picked at the food. “I think his name is Nick. Why?”

Your next breath was much easier. Bucky was making you paranoid in all aspects of life. “No reason. I just think that’s really nice of him,” you smiled.

Your friend didn’t look convinced for a moment. “You sounded and looked really weird when you asked.”

“Just hungry. You know how I get,” you said, forcing yourself to take a bite.

She raised an eyebrow before she shrugged. “At least you don’t get hangry like Dana,” she teased. “But yes! It was nice of him. It’s a great way to support employees.” Her eyes lit up before she smacked the table. “Ooh! I should ask if he’s single.”

“No, no, no. Don’t do that, please,” you begged. The last thing you needed to deal with was pulling an innocent man into whatever was going on with you and Bucky.

“Why not? We need to find you a man and he’s good looking. Or you know what? I think one of the groomsmen might also be single now. Maybe we could set you up with him?”

“No, Addison,” you said, trying not to let your emotions get the better of you when she had no idea what had transpired in your life over the last couple of days.

Your friend sank back in her chair, her previous excitement gone. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” you said, putting another bite of food into your mouth in the hopes that you’d keep more words from tumbling out. It wasn’t good to keep it bottled up, but a powerful man had threatened her. Your best friend.

“Oh, yeah? Then give me a good reason why I shouldn’t set you up with someone. Just one,” she challenged.

“Okay, fine.” Bucky’s face shimmered in your mind as you said, “It isn't set in stone, but I may have a date for the wedding. Maybe.”

You shifted in your seat, wishing you didn’t say that. It was the only thing that could possibly stop Addison from setting you up with someone else. Pulling anyone else into whatever game Bucky was playing wasn’t a smart move. Not until you could figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.

Addison's eyes went wide as she sat up and swatted at your arm. “Oh, my God! You’re asking about The Terrace when you buried the lead?! No wonder you’ve been off this morning! Tell me everything!”

“There isn't much to tell really, but…” Your heart sank as your friend literally moved to the edge of her seat, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and happiness. “He's handsome. Successful. Headstrong. Likes to read in his spare time. And for some reason, he really seems to like me.”

“Ahh! This is amazing. You're really growing out of your shell. I'm so proud of you.” Addison nearly knocked you out of your chair when she launched at you and hugged you tight. “And what do you mean he likes you ‘for some reason’? You’re a fucking goddess, okay? Say it. Say ‘I’m a fucking goddess’.”

“You’re a fucking goddess,” you joked, giggling when she hugged you tighter. “Okay, okay. I’m a fucking goddess. Let me breathe, please.”

“Yeah, you are.” She pulled back to take a seat again, a wide smile still on her face. “This is amazing news. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Well, I'm sure everyone will love him,” you said. And you had no doubt they would. Something told you he would be the perfect charmer, telling everyone what they wanted to hear and showing them what they wanted to see. As well as being a doting boyfriend.

“If you like him then he must be great.”

“Yeah,” you said. You probably would’ve liked Bucky if things played out differently. “And you're sure he can go? I understand if he can't and I'm sure he would, too, since the wedding is just around the corner and it’s still so new.”

“Of course, he can go. Everyone is going to be thrilled.” She took one of your hands when you looked in your lap. You didn’t want to look up in case tears sprang to your eyes. “Hey. You’ve been the bridesmaid long enough. It’s about time you meet someone who finally makes you the bride.”

Tears filled your eyes anyway, but you blinked them away. If Bucky had his way, you’d be his bride soon enough. “Listen. Addison-”

“Shit, I gotta go before I’m late. I’m so sorry.” She grabbed her bag as she stood up and gave you one last hug. She was in such a hurry that she thankfully didn’t catch your misty gaze. It was better that way. “Text me, okay? We can talk more tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“And I won’t say anything to the rest of the girls until you do,” she promised, rushing to the door. “Seriously, so happy for you!”

“Thanks. I appreciate that,” you called after her. “Have fun tonight!”

“I will! Love you!”

The door shut, leaving you alone and in silence. You placed your head on the table with a groan. You were an idiot. No, that was cruel to think about yourself. You just felt cornered and reacted accordingly. And now you had to bring Bucky to the wedding, which was what he wanted.

What have I gotten myself into?

You lifted your head after a minute to finish your breakfast. As much as you wanted to lay about all day, you had to be productive. Plus you had to look at your phone eventually. You wondered how many more times Bucky messaged you. You also wondered if there were any stories or articles about him online.

Would snooping make things better or worse?

Making sure your front door was locked, you finally went to retrieve your phone. Stretching out on your bed, you picked up the phone and swiped until you got to Bucky’s messages. You scrolled through to the last one you sent, when you told him you had plans.

“You have plans? They really want to meet you.”

“I can still bring the dress over if you want. Just in case.”

“Already thinking about our second date. I want to make it special. I never want to stop wooing you.”

“Sweet dreams. Wish you were here so I could hold you.”

Your heart sank as you kept reading them, the words blurring together on the screen.

“Having a hard time sleeping since you haven’t answered me. I hope you're okay.”

“Maybe I should get you a new phone.”

“Ignoring me, Kotyonok? Playing hard to get?”

The last message came through a minute ago.

“Should I just come over and check on you?”

Your heart jumped to your throat as you typed out a message. What were the chances of him showing up if you didn’t respond? It was better not to risk it. You had ignored him enough. “Sorry, Bucky. I’m not glued to my phone and I crashed last night after our date. Thanks for sending breakfast over. That was a surprise.”

It wasn’t the end of the conversation, of course. “It’s okay. Just worries me when I don’t hear from you.” As if he had the right to worry about you when he caused you worry to begin with. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

You went to set your phone down, but saw more dots on the screen. “You sure I can’t see you tonight? The guys are really eager to meet you. I want you to meet them, too.”

Reading that made your stomach roll. Would they be like Ray? Complicit? “I told you I have plans. I’m sorry. Maybe another time.”

Another message popped up almost immediately. “Which one do you like better?”

Two images of Bucky appeared after the text. He stood with confidence in front of a sleek sink that you could only assume was in his bathroom. The pictures were nearly identical, minus the fact that the first image had him in a dark green jacket and the second had him in blue. But that wasn’t what made your next breath shaky.

He stared right into the mirror, the lens capturing his gaze so that it penetrated the screen. He seemed to be looking right at you. Unflinching. Unwavering.

Your fingers shook as you typed back to him. “The blue. It brings out your eyes.”

Your phone rang a second later. Now he was calling. You let it ring for a bit longer before you answered. “Hello?”

“Morning, Kotyonok.” He purred on the other end. “Hope I'm not bothering you. I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Morning.” When has a man ever called just to hear you speak? “Not sure why you need to hear it. I don’t think my voice is nice to listen to,” you said.

He chuckled. “You have a beautiful voice. I could listen to you talk all day.” Your cheeks flamed. He knew how to lay it on thick. “You’re right about the jacket. The blue is the better choice. And it’ll be a lot easier to get your opinion once we’re living together.”

You shut your eyes and counted to three. “So, you’re still convinced I’m going to live with you?”

“Before the end of the month. My promise to you.”

“We’ll see,” you said, blaming your lack of wit on your lack of caffeine.

There was some shuffling in the background that you could only make out since you went quiet. “Excited to meet my friends tonight?”

“I’m not meeting them tonight. I told you more than once that I have plans,” you reiterated. You weren't budging on that, even if all you’d do was curl up with a book. He didn't have to know.

He chuckled again, like he knew a secret you didn't. “That’s right. You did tell me that.” It was strange that he didn't ask what your plans were. “Are you ready for the day? Or are you still not dressed?”

Your eyes flickered around the room. He wasn’t there. He couldn’t see you. It was fine. “I still need to shower and get ready,” you said.

He hummed. “The shower here is nice. You’ll love the tub here, too. Has plenty of room for both of us.”

“Bucky-”

“It’s perfect for me to fuck you in it.” His voice was rougher and you thought you heard him incorrectly. “I dreamt about that last night. Bouncing you up and down on my cock as your cries filled the room, the water splashing around us. Sounded so fucking pretty.”

Your mouth fell open when you heard more shuffling. And moaning. A deep, hungry moan. “What are you…” Was he… Was he touching himself as he spoke to you? Jerking off? No. He couldn’t be. “Bucky, I’m-”

“I love hearing you say my name. Say it again, Kotyonok,” he rasped, his breathing heavier. So was yours. “Say it.”

You bit your tongue. You didn’t want to say it or hear any of this. It was filthy. Wrong. But you obeyed anyway. “Bucky,” you whispered.

The next sound he let out was something you could only describe as pornographic. “I’m so hard for you. And you’re wet for me, aren’t you? Fuck, I wish I was there to take care of you.” You rubbed your thighs together and ignored the heat in your body. It was a natural reaction. Fear. It had to be. “Talk to me. Let me hear that pretty voice.”

“I…” Your eyes squeezed shut, your chest lightly heaving. Dread gripped you and you didn’t know what to say. “I can’t.”

“Oh, I’ve imagined that, too. Telling me you can’t take my cock. That it’s too big. Too much.” He panted and something told you to keep listening instead of hanging up on him. “You’ll take it. You’ll take me. Like a good girl.”

You covered your mouth, afraid of whatever sound would come out as his heavy breathing persisted in your ear. You could almost imagine him pinning you down with his weight, taking you apart. Making you say his name. Spilling inside you as he said yours.

Bucky said he wasn't a monster. That he wouldn't hurt you. But what was he going to do to you?

“Fuck, you’ll look so gorgeous when I…” Bucky trailed off, all sounds of pleasure on his end coming to a halt. “For fuck’s sake, what?! What is so fucking important right now?!”

You pulled the phone away from your ear, your heart pounding. You thought you heard Ray in the background, but couldn’t be sure. “I-I should probably go,” you said, grateful for the interruption.

“I understand, Ray. Just give me a fucking second.” Bucky exhaled before he spoke again. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t want to go, but I have to.”

His tone was much gentler since it was directed back at you. “So do I. I need to shower,” you said. To wash off whatever just transpired even though he didn't touch you.

“Wish I was there to help clean you up and get you dirty all over again.” You heard the smile in his voice and fought the urge to get sick. “Have a good day, okay? We’ll finish this later. I promise.”

You tossed your phone away and sat up, your hands gripping the sheets as you inhaled and exhaled. Did that really just happen? One-sided phone sex or whatever the hell it was? The sounds of his moans rang in your ears. Thankfully the heat was no longer spreading through your body.

This wasn't your fault.

But you could’ve yelled for him to stop. You could’ve hung up. You didn’t do either of those things. Could've, would've, should've.

Where was your fire?

“It’s fine,” you whispered, biting your lip almost hard enough to draw blood. “I’m fine. This is all going to be fine.”

You refused to be anything other than fine. And he wasn’t at your place, so you were safe and sound, right? You had to be.

Lying to yourself didn't make you feel any better. It didn’t stop you from rushing to the toilet when you dry heaved. And it didn't stop you from wondering when he’d finish what he started over the phone.

Bucky continues to leave an impression, doesn't he? And he's convinced you're going to see his friends, isn't he? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[evis-gossip]

His mission. Part 2: Wake up

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

Categories: Light angst, fluff, mostly hurt/comfort, almost sick fic

Warnings: Protective! Ghost (almost possessive). Talk of commas and unconsciousness. No use of Y/N. Allusions to long hair and small body. Hospital setting. Ghostie’s in his feels, I fear. MC speaks briefly of loosing their family and so does Simon.

Word count: 1k words

A/N: Guess what? We’re back babes. I did a little more research for this one and so it’s a little longer. MC is explicitly female in this one, sorry babes. I acknowledge that so far it has been faily platonic, but it's gonna start getting romantic soon. I can't help but want to eat this man up.

Part 1: He had you - Masterlist

Simon hadn’t moved and inch away from your bed.

Johnny had just brought him a change of clothes, jeans and a jumper. Simple, but most importantly, not tactical gear. Nothing bulletproof, cammo, sharp or particularly practical. Just something comfortable that’d make you feel easier in his presence. In any other case he wouldn’t have cared about clothes, but he did now. He wanted to look presentable for when you finally woke up.

Believing you would wake up at any second, he made Soap stand watch over you while he changed in the hospital rest room. And when he came back at super speed, fully believing you must’ve woken up after the less than 5 minutes he was gone, he was utterly disappointed when you didn’t. He had your safety first thing in his mind, but he just wanted you to wake up already. He had so many questions. Like for starters, what was your name? He wanted to know everything about you, but he couldn’t know anything without even enough to utter your name and went right back to sleep, then that would be enough to get someone to find intel on you. At least then he could let you rest while he studied your history. They even tried your fingerprints. But no such luck.

He should be grateful the doctor hadn’t proclaimed you comatose, just unconscious, just resting. But to be honest with himself, he was getting greedy, he wanted more. He needed to know what the hell was it that made you feel so safe in his presence? Why did the old bloke feel so protective over you? Maybe because your delicate features made you look so angelic, or because you had felt so soft and small in his arms. But he forbade himself from thinking those thoughts over an unconscious woman he knew nothing about. He didn’t even know how old you were and still he wanted to haul you up in his arms.

Simon hadn’t slept in almost a week. Ever since he found you, he hadn’t slept a wink. He spent all that time looking into you face, inspecting every feature, every freckle. And he was a soldier, he could keep himself awake for 72, no caffeine, imagine with. But after all that time, sleep was starting to catch up with him. Your steady heart beat on the monitor was starting to lull him to sleep.

He didn’t notice his head falling to the side of the bed, nudging your knee, right next to your limp hand. Not the most comfortable position to fall asleep in. Delete Created with Sketch.

When he woke up, something was tickling his forehead. He opened his eyes with a groan to find out that something were your fingers lightly trying to graze his skin. He sat up so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash. When he looked into your face, you’re eyelashes were fluttering so slightly he might as well have dreamed it. He wanted to caress you face gently and brush away the strands of hair, but instead took your fingers in his hand and traced your fingernails, willing you to wake up.

As much as he had eagerly will you to arise, he now had to face the reality of it. What if you didn’t even speak English? That was a very real possibility. And what if you had amnesia and didn’t even remember your name? He eagerly watched you wake up nonetheless, swallowing his own questions for later. Your head tilted to the side and your eyelids scrunched tighter one last time before you opened them with a whine.

“Hey luv” he smiled softly, not like the beast baring his teeth he’s used to being “Hmm, brit, eh?” “That’s right” he sighed looking at your face. That was the first thing he ever heard you say, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find your voice otherworldly. He’d do anything to keep you talking. You looked so peaceful and far better than how he found you, but he needed to know " What’s yer name, luv? Can’t find yer family wit’out it” You tilted your head to your side, avoiding the question completely, tears filling your water line “Sh sh sh” He cooed gently as got closer, cupping your face tenderly “Yer don’t gotta talk if yer ain’t ready” Simon looked into your eyes and felt himself fighting to stay above water instead of drowning in them. You whispered your name before breaking into tears. “They’re all gone. ‘Is only me now” You sobbed your heart out, leaning into his arms and Simon found himself finally gathering you up to his chest again. He kept repeating in his head that it was all to calm you down, but truth was, he enjoyed having you so close, even if you were crying hysterically.

He rubbed your back soothingly softly beckoning you to calm down. He understood. He didn’t have anyone else left either, but he was not about to let you feel the same way he did, not when you just woke up after being held hostage for god knows how long. He’d be there for you. When your crying slowed down to soft sniffles, he laid you down on the bed again, right before nurses flooded the room to check you up after waking up. A little more conscious than the previous time, you scurried away from them and crawled to the safety of Simon’s warm embrace. And he held you tight. It was conflicting really. To feel so protective over someone so vulnerable. Almost possessive. Like an incessant need to keep you all to himself.

He was glad you had woken up and started to talk. He was even more pleased when you fell back asleep clutching the fabric of his jumper, nuzzling into his chest again. This time he did not put you back in bed, but instead pulled the blanket over your small frame and sat back, letting you sleep peacefully in the cradle of his arms.

Thank you for reading and let me know what you think!!!! <333

[atypicalamortentia]

Riddle's Diary || Tom Riddle

Synopsis - A few days into your last year at Hogwarts, you wake up to find an unusual diary nestled between your class books. After uncovering its secret, the diary very quickly becomes the only thing you can think about.

Warnings - SFW.

Notes - All characters a 18+

Word Count - 4k.

[Caffeinate Me]

You weren’t exactly sure where the diary came from. You had woken up one morning to find it neatly nestled between your class books on your bedside table. You had asked around Hogwarts to see if anybody had put it there, alas nobody had owned up to placing it in your belongings. 

The diary itself was plain black and made of leather. The unrecognised name of ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle’ was written in gold on the bottom of the very back of the diary. As you studied the diary, your first instinct was to flick through the pages but when you did, you saw they were all empty. It was as if the diary was brand new. Unused. You shrugged and placed the diary neatly back where it had been and went about your day as usual, forgetting all about it until you returned back to your dorm room that evening. 

When everybody had gone to bed and you were sure everybody was asleep, you grabbed the diary and made your way down to the common room where you sat at a desk facing a window, looking out at the clear night sky. You admired the diary for the second time today and sighed. “Where did you come from?” You muttered to the diary. You opened it to the middle page and inspected the lining of the book. You were looking for any evidence that there had been pages ripped out, but the lining of the diary remained intact suggesting that there hadn’t been. Just as you were about to close the book and head back to bed, words appeared on the page in front of you:

Hello. 

You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut tightly before reopening them and looking at the page the words had appeared on. There was nothing there. “I must be going mad,” you whispered to yourself. You were about to close the diary once more before words appeared on the page again:

No, you’re not going mad. 

Then, as quickly as they appeared, they disappeared without a trace. You picked up the diary and looked closely at the page. 

My name’s Tom Marvolo Riddle. What’s yours?

You gasped loudly. What sort of magic was this? You watched as the words disappeared from the page before you looked at the ink pot that sat neatly on the corner of the desk you were sitting at. “Am I really going to do this?” You asked yourself before picking up the feathered quill pen and writing your name on the page of the diary. You waited for a few seconds, not sure what you were expecting to happen but just like the words you had seen, your name simply disappeared from the page. In its place was a response:

That’s a pretty name for a pretty girl. 

The words were gone and the page was yet again blank. Did a diary really just call you pretty? You shook your head once again and allowed the quill in your hand to glide across the page as you wrote your reply: 

What is this book?

You waited a few seconds before a response came. 

My diary.  

“But why would somebody enchant a diary?” You asked aloud to yourself. 

So I can live forever. 

“Oh,” you frowned at the words on the page. Whatever it was, whoever it was, they could hear you speak? This was magic you had never encountered before, nor even knew was possible. You didn’t respond to the diary and instead looked out of the window as your mind whirled with possibilities. You still didn’t even know where this diary had come from and now you were up in the middle of the night talking to it? When you finally looked down at the page, you saw another sentence:

It’s late. You should go to bed beautiful. 

You closed the diary without writing a goodbye. You were shaken and confused. “It is late,” you mumbled to yourself looking at the grandfather clock situated in the corner of the common room. This all had to be one weird dream. You would wake up in the morning to no diary that could hear you or write to you and you’d tell your best friends about it and you’d laugh about the weird dream. Yeah. That would happen. You grabbed the diary and stood up, making your way back to the girls dorm and climbing back into bed. You placed the diary back where it was when you found it and fell into a deep sleep. 

You were the last to wake in the morning and the first thing you did was look for the diary. There it was, right where you left it. So it wasn’t a weird dream? You opened the diary and waited for words to appear, but none did. “Maybe I was just so sleep deprived I imagined the whole thing,” you whispered to yourself. You waited for a few more moments and still no words appeared. “What am I thinking?” You groaned and threw the diary onto the bed before getting ready for the day to come. 

Your first class of the day was potions. It was probably your favourite class, but as you sat and listened to Professor Snape drawl on about various different potions you just couldn’t concentrate. No matter how hard you tried. Your mind kept lingering back to the diary and the night before. After potions class you had a free period. You tended to sit in the library and study, but yet again you couldn’t concentrate. You found yourself sneaking back to the common room and acquiring the diary, placing it in your bag before going to your second, and final, class of the day. You found yourself peering at the dairy in your bag throughout the lesson through the corner of your eyes, not paying attention to the Professor that was trying to teach you Defence Against The Dark Arts. The lesson was soon over and you evaded your friends to head back to the common room in an attempt to communicate with the diary once more. You sat at your bed, pen in hand, and began to scrawl onto the page in front of you.

Was I dreaming last night? 

You waited a second and before you knew it, the words you wrote had disappeared leaving a response in its wake. 

No. 

Your eyes widened and your heart began to thump desperately in your chest. You shook your head and watched as the words left the page until it was blank once more. You were about to write back about how insane this was but the diary beat you to it. 

You think this is crazy, don’t you?

You nodded and cried out, “yes!”  

It’s not. It’s magic. 

“Well duh,” you groaned loudly. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Your friend's voice came from the other side of the girls' dorm. You panicked and snapped the diary shut before throwing it under your pillow just in time for your friend to walk in. 

“I’m fine,” you said, blinking rapidly at her. 

“I heard you say ‘yes’ extremely loudly,” she looked around the room realising nobody else was in there but you. “Who were you talking to?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

You frowned and shrugged, making up a quick lie. “Just thought of the answer to some homework I have. Been thinking about it for days and it finally came to me.” 

“That’s… good…” Your friend said slowly before backing out of the room leaving you alone yet again. When you were sure she was gone, you grabbed the diary back from under your pillow and opened it. 

Ashamed of me?

The diary wrote. You raised an eyebrow and wrote back instantly. 

You’re a diary. 

That’s not a no. 

You scoffed. You weren’t ashamed per say, just confused. It was a damn talking diary! You needed to find out more about the diary before you let people see you with the damn thing. You sat crossed-legged on the bed, pen in hand, and continued to talk to the diary. 

So. Tell me about yourself.

The diary responded instantaneously with a counter question:

Why don’t you tell me about yourself, pretty girl?

You rolled your eyes. Out of all the magical things you thought would make a blush rise to your cheeks, a diary certainly wasn’t one of them. 

Stop calling me “pretty girl”. 

Why should I?

You bit your bottom lip as you wrote back furiously. 

You don’t know what I look like. 

Are you sure about that?

You paused and looked around the room. Surely your friends weren’t pulling a prank on you with this diary were they? When you didn’t answer, the diary continued to write to you. 

Why don’t I show you who I am? 

Your heart continued to beat rapidly in your chest and before you knew it, you were being sucked into the diary. You looked around the room and recognised it as your dorm room. The diary was nowhere to be found and so, not sure what had happened you smoothed down your uniform and began to walk out of the room. Things looked exactly the same and you made your way out of the common room to the grand staircase. There, you saw a man with curly hair and the most piercing brown eyes standing at the bottom of the staircase. He looked on as someone was taken away, covered by a sheet - someone had died? You didn’t recognise the man and his robes were slightly different to yours and it was then that you realised you were in a different time era. The cogs were turning in your head when suddenly you were interrupted by a voice you were familiar with. “Tom?” You looked to see Professor Dumbledore standing in front of the man, shielding his view as the body was wheeled away. 

“Tom?” You asked loudly, but nobody turned to look at you. “Tom Marvolo Riddle?” 

“What’s happened Professor?” Tom asked Professor Dumbledore who looked on sadly, placing his hand on the man’s shoulders. 

As the pair talked, you walked next to Dumbledore and waved a hand in front of his face. When he didn’t acknowledge you, you began to realise what was happening. These were memories. Tom’s memories to be exact. The two began to fade away and suddenly you were left alone in the corridor before you were sucked back out of the diary and onto your bed. You blinked a few times and looked at the diary that lay on your bed. “What the hell was that?” You asked yourself, opening the diary to the first page. 

That was a memory of mine, my dear. You see, I used to be a student at Hogwarts. 

You raised an eyebrow before picking the pen back up and scribbling back. 

Used to be?

Yes, used to be. A long time ago. 

“That explains why I didn’t recognise you,” you said, knowing that the diary would respond to your mumbling. 

Exactly. Who could forget a handsome face like mine?

The diary replied. You yet again rolled your eyes and scoffed. The diary wasn’t wrong though, he was extremely handsome. 

What are you thinking about?

The diary asked. This made you think about what you were thinking about and instantly you shook your head as if trying to shake the thoughts from your brain. 

Nothing. 

Came your response. You continued to shake your head, not allowing the thoughts to re-enter your mind of Tom Riddle. You bid your goodbyes before closing the diary and placing it back under your pillow - not allowing the diary time to say goodbye. 

An hour had passed since you last spoke to the diary and you were already itching to talk to it again… To talk to him again. Despite having your friends around you, sometimes you felt like an outcast. Somebody who didn’t belong. This diary was making you think… Was making you feel. “This is ridiculous,” you whispered to yourself as you walked down the hall to the Great Hall. You opened the large doors to the Great Hall and were met with crowds of people gathering around their house tables, eating away at the large feast that was spread out across the long tables. 

“Y/N!” Your friend called, standing up and waving her arms to catch your attention. “Over here!” You smiled weakly at her and walked over to your house table, settling down next to your friend. “Where have you been? We haven’t seen you all day!” 

“I erm…” You whispered, looking down at your skirt. “I’ve not been feeling well. I’ve been in the girls dorm for most of the afternoon, just resting.” 

“Are you feeling better?” Another one of your friends asked you, to which you just nodded a response. “Good.” 

You began to eat the food on your plate silently as you continued to think back to Tom Riddle's memory. There was no denying that if that man was Tom Riddle, he was extremely handsome. Charmingly handsome. His brown eyes were inviting as he looked past Dumbledore at the gurney the covered body was laying on. They twinkled as if they were harbouring a deep secret, one you were sure you could get out of the diary if you asked. 

“Y/N?” Your friend shouted, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you, grabbing your attention from your thoughts. “I said have you done the potions homework?” 

You looked at your friend with a mouthful of food and shook your head. Gulping the food down, you began to speak. “When is it due? I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“Like what Y/N?” Your friend hissed silently. “This is our last year for goodness sake! Get your head in the game or you’ll fail your exams!” 

You straightened your body and nodded. “You’re right.”

“I know,” she smiled, brushing off her shoulder playfully. You turned back to your food and continued eating in silence as your friends around you chattered and laughed. Before you knew it, you were making your way back to the common room quickly, alone yet again. You walked up the moving staircases, being careful not to get trapped on the revolving stairs as you hurriedly made your way back to your dorm. You got into the girls dorm and slammed the door shut behind you. When you realised you were alone you walked over to your bed and picked up your pillow revealing the leather diary you had been thinking about non-stop for the last twenty-four hours. You could tell in your gut that this diary was going to become a problem for you. You picked it up and sat down on your bed opening the book. 

Did you miss me?

Your eyes widened at the words on the page. 

No.

You lied. 

Liar. 

No.

This continued for several minutes before you gave in. 

I suppose I missed the company you seem to bring me. 

You wrote. Your heart was yet again thumping in your chest as you scribbled the words on the empty, yellow parchment. 

How cute.

Cute? You wouldn't exactly call it ‘cute’. It was more sad than anything. Talking to a diary, memories of somebody from the past as opposed to your kind, caring and loving friends. You gripped the diary tightly between your fingers, folding the book ever-so-slightly. Your leg was bouncing off the floor as you thought about what to say to Tom next. Alas you didn’t have to think before more words were scrawled on the page. 

How was your day?

“My day?” You mumbled to yourself, grasping the pen tightly in your hand as you began to write back. 

My day was okay. I haven’t been able to concentrate on my studies today. 

And why is that?

“This damned diary,” you said loudly. You placed the diary, open, next to you gently on the bed and stood up. With your head in your hands, you grasped your hair and pulled ever-so-slightly whilst groaning in frustration. 

What is it about my diary that is so distracting to you, my dear?

You looked down at the diary on your bed and sighed. You picked it up again and replied. 

It’s like having a constant friend in my bag. 

You didn’t have to wait long for Tom’s reply.

A friend?

“Yes, a friend,” you whispered in a hushed voice. 

But, that’s a good thing isn’t it? To have a friend with you at all times, no matter where you are. No matter what you do. 

You thought for a moment. You supposed it was a good thing, but again you knew this diary was going to become a problem for you if you kept it. 

I have to give your diary away.

You wrote on the empty page after much deliberation. 

NO!

Tom replied. There was an urgency in his writing. The capitalisation of the letters sent your heart into a frenzy. This diary, this Tom Riddle, had been in your life for roughly twenty-four hours now and you were already starting to feel attached. 

Why do you have to give my diary away, pretty girl?

You bit your bottom lip as you ran the pads of your fingers across the parchment. The words dissolve off the page in the blink of an eye. The thought of that handsome boy in the memory calling you a pretty girl brought a blush to your face. You shook your head. You couldn’t be thinking like that. You didn’t know a thing about this Tom Riddle, about this diary. 

We should meet.

The words flashed on the page. 

“Meet? How could we possibly meet?” You asked the diary, confusion laced your voice. 

Magic. 

Came the reply. In an instant you were sucked into the diary yet again. You stood up off the bed and brushed yourself off, taking in the room around you: you were in another memory. There was movement in the corner of the room and your eyes shot to the darkness of the room's corner. A figure loomed in the shadows and your heart began to thump, your ears began to ring and your legs began to shake. Were you trembling out of fear? Out of anticipation? You weren’t quite sure. 

“I’ve been very anxious to meet you,” a voice came from the shadows. Stepping into the light, the curly haired male from the first memory stood in front of you. 

“T-Tom?” You asked, ears still ringing. 

The man took a few steps towards you, a twisted smile graced his lips as he spoke confidently in response. “Yes. It’s me.”

“H-How is this even possible?” You asked. You were breathless as Tom continued to stalk towards you. 

“It’s simple magic really,” Tom replied. He was now standing mere feet away from you and you could truly admire his features in the girls dorm light. “Have you been as anxious to meet me as I have to meet you?”  

You shook your head as your throat ran dry. You gulped down a lump and spoke, trying your best to sound unaffected by him. “You’re just a memory.” 

“I may be just a memory, but that doesn’t mean I’m not real,” he whispered, bringing his face closer to yours. He looked deeply into your eyes before his gaze dropped down to your lips and back up to your eyes again. “It doesn’t mean that what I don’t feel is real…”

“What do you mean?” You asked softly. 

Tom brought a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. His face was so close to yours that you could feel his breath on the side of your face. It was warm, intoxicating almost. You felt your heart flutter as his hand dropped from your hair and to your hand that rested next to you. He held it up to his heart which you could feel beating in tandem with your own. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I feel Y/N.” 

You shook your head a ‘no’ as he spoke to you, lips gracing your ear seductively. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He pulled away from your face and stood up straight. Brown eyes twinkling in the dim light of the room, staring into your soul. “Liar,” he whispered, a chuckle escaping his lips. 

“Tom…” You whispered breathlessly. You sucked in a breath and moved closer to him, touching his shoulders gently with shaky hands. “I can touch you?” 

“Of course you can,” Tom smirked. “And I can touch you.” He responded with a hand ghosting your hip, pulling your body closer to his. Your heart was skipping beats at his touch and you looked up at him. “I can even kiss you, if you want me too.” Tom’s hands cupped your face as he brought it closer to his own, gaze flickering down to your lips seductively. 

“Why would you kiss me?” You whispered to him, eyes burning into his own. You desperately wanted to look away out of embarrassment, but you kept strong. 

“Because I’m in love with you,” he said so nonchalantly. 

Your eyes widened and you stepped back at his words, visibly recoiling. “Excuse me?” You asked, raising your eyebrow. 

“You heard me,” Tom replied as he dropped his hands from your cheeks and gripped onto your hip, earning a squeak from you. “I’m glad you found my diary.” 

“I didn’t find it,” you whispered. “It was placed in my belongings and was there when I woke up the other morning.” 

Tom hummed and with his free hand, stroked his chin. “Fate has brought us together then, my love. Together, we can do it.”

You pulled away from Tom’s grasp and looked at him with confusion on your face. “Do… What?” 

“Open the Chamber Of Secrets, of course,” Tom replied. The Chamber Of Secrets? What on earth was the Chamber Of Secrets? Your face must have asked the question before you could vocalise it, and Tom chuckled. “You don’t know about the Chamber Of Secrets?” You shook your head. “What are they teaching you at this forsaken school,” Tom said whilst rolling his eyes. 

“Magic,” you answered softly. 

Tom continued to roll his eyes at your answer but he leaned in closer to you once more, his breath fanning across your face causing your entire body to shiver in anticipation. “Will you help me?” He asked. Without even thinking, you found yourself nodding a simple ‘yes’. Tom pulled away from your ear and smirked down at you. “Good. Good. We shall waste no time and get to work immediately.” 

“Okay…” You nodded slowly. You looked into Tom’s eyes and felt your palms get sweaty almost instantly at the way he was looking at you. There was a hint of need there, possession maybe. Whatever it was, you couldn’t quite place it. 

“About that kiss,” Tom whispered huskily, stepping one step closer to you so that he was now invading your personal space. “Would you like it?” 

Before you even thought about it, your head was nodding a ‘yes’. Tom was grinning at you, licking his lips before he placed them on yours softly. You whimpered the second his lips touched yours but melted into the kiss almost immediately. You felt Tom’s hands rest on your hips, gripping tightly and pulling you flush against his chest protectively. Tom wasted no time in deepening the kiss, pushing you backwards until your back hit a wall behind you. You were suddenly trapped and wouldn’t be able to get away from him if you wanted to. Your cheeks were on fire as you felt Tom bite down on your bottom lip between his teeth before he pulled away and looked at you. 

“How was that?” He asked breathlessly. His arms had fallen from your hips and were now resting on either side of your head as he leaned above you against the wall. 

“Best fake kiss I’ve ever had,” you whispered, voice low and nervous. 

“I think it’s time I return you to your time,” Tom said, a hint of sadness in his voice. “I just wish I could keep you here with me… Forever.” 

You blushed furiously at his words and before you knew it, you were being transported out of the diary and you were sitting back on your bed in the girls dorm. The diary was once again open and a few words were sprawled on the page for you to see:

Come visit me again soon sweetheart. 

[shawtylex09]

⋆˙⟡Sleep over. Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader.⟡⋆˙

I’ve had an Alani nu and a monster today so I’m SPEED typing lmfaoo

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

You were excited. Your heart was thumping against your ribs as you bustled about your room, tidying things up. Your mom was out of town for the weekend on a business trip, so you and your boyfriend would be able to have a sleep over.

Did you have to do it in secret? Yeah, was it worth it? Absolutely.

Izuku’s mom wasn’t aware of your arrangements, and neither was your mom, but it’s not like you had any bad intent! Honest!

You had just finished cleaning when the doorbell rang “Yes! He’s here!” You laughed a bit as you dashed out of your room and down the stairs.

“I’m coming!” You called to Izuku.

You whipped the door open and there stood Izuku, looking a bit nervous but with a smile on his face “hey Y/n- I mean babe- I mean baby-“ he was still getting used to using pet names, and he was still a little shy when it came to them.

You laughed a bit “Zuku, don’t worry about forcing them” you gently kissed his cheek and pulled him inside.

“Okay! So I got stuff to make cookies and found a list of good hero documentaries for us to watch- oh oh! And I got stuff to make battery acid!” You excitedly rattled off things you’d done in preparation for the sleep over.

Izuku smiled as you rambled. That was one thing he loved about you- you sometimes went on tangents like he did. “Y/n..? Have you had any caffeine today?”

You laughed a little and nodded “I had a monster.” You said with a light red on your cheeks, rubbing the back of your neck as you bounced on the balls do your feet

Izuku smiled and sighed “those are so bad for you” he said as he gently grabbed your hands, his cheeks flushing red as you gripped his tightly, but not painfully.

“I know I know, but I don’t drink them often.” You smiled brightly “so, what do you wanna do first-?” You gasped dramatically and stood on your tippy toes, something you did when you were excited

“I bought us something- come on!” You said as you released one of his hands, practically dragging him up the stairs.

“W-woah! Baby- b-babe!” Izuku exclaimed as you quickly pulled him upstairs to your room.

He hadn’t even gotten a chance to take his shoes off! But you didn’t seem to mind as to opened the door to your bedroom and pulled him inside. You let go of him and walked briskly to your bed, holding up two hangers. One had Spider-Man PJs hung neatly on them, and the other had hello Kitty Pjs on them.

(These ^)

Izuku smiled fondly as you proudly held up what you’d bought “look! We’ll match!”

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck “I assume the Spider-Man is for you and the hello Kitty is for me?” He asked

You giggled and walked over, nodding and kissing his cheek. “So smart” you praised sweetly.

Izuku stiffened and blushed so red he matched the pj pants in your hand. He felt a goofy grin pull at the corners of his lips, his heart beating a little harder in his chest.

A little later .~•*

In the span of a few minutes, you and Izuku had put on your PJs. He looked adorable. His hair slightly messy from pulling the shirt over his head, and his cheeks red.

You gasped and squealed “oh my god you’re adorable!” You cupped his cheeks and pecked his forehead.

Izuku blushed and laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “You think? I wasn’t sure about them since they..don’t fit the greatest.”

The shirt wasn’t quite long enough to reach the waist band of the pants, a bit of his v-line exposed. The pants were tight on Izuku’s ass and thighs. Thanks to his shoot style and leg work outs, his lower body was chiseled.

You blushed and looked away, before giving him a less than pure glance “I know so” you mumbled.

He noticed your gaze and covered his face “stop looking at me like that” Izuku whined embarrassedly, feeling heat crawl up to his ears.

You took a step closer and gently grabbed his hips, pulling him close to you. He rested his hands on your shoulders and gave you a half lidded, shy gaze. God you loved that face.

You smiled and leaned in “you’re so pretty baby” you praised softly, only making Izuku’s cheeks redden even further.

“Y/n..” he whined, “stoop..” he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and hid his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder.

You laughed lightly and pulled away from him a bit. He reluctantly lifted his head to look up at you with a shy and embarrassed look. You leaned down and softly kissed his forehead “I love you, you know that?”

Izuku felt his heart leap. Any time you said that to him, his heart lurched in his chest. He melted anc cupped your cheeks “I-i love you too”

You blushed a bit before leaning down and gently catching his lips in a kiss.

.~•*

The two of you ended up making out a bit, Izuku ending up in your lap as you ran your hands across his chest and down to his ass, gripping the curves and planes of his body while he whined and whimpered into the kiss, his body burning under your touch.

You softly kissed the sweet spot on his neck, your lips slowly trailing up and down the soft skin. “Y/n- ah-” he angled his head back as a soft, feminine moan slipped past his chewed lips, his cheeks red.

You smiled against his skin “I love you Izuku” you murmured, your voice gentle and affectionate.

He let out a little whine and bit his lip “I love you too Y/n” he said shakily as he trailed his hands up the nape of your neck and to your cheeks.

You pulled from his neck and smiled at him. Your heart swelling with affection as you looked up at him.

Izuku gazed down at you shyly, but sweetly, his round doe eyes so sparkly and holding so much affection.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, one he relaxed into “wanna watch a movie?” You asked.

Izuku fidgeted shyly, picking at his cuticles “can we watch Blues Clues?” Iykyk

You laughed lightly and smiled at him, feeling warmth spread through your chest and cheeks “of course we can.”

He brightened and smiled “yes! I love you Y/n!” Izuku hugged you tightly and nuzzled into the crook of your neck, making you chuckle a little and pat him on the back. “I love you too, nerd. Now cmon, I’ll turn it on.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

Tehe cutesy little fic I thought of <3

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Hunt pt. 1

Read on AO3.

Part 2. Part 3.

Summary: Alastor x Reader (reader is afab, uses she/her pronouns.) Date nights in Hell are done a little differently, especially when you're dating The Radio Demon.

Trigger warnings: Canon typical violence. Reader and Alastor in Hell for a reason. Horror with some twisted romance.

Today had been a particularly drab day.

Acid rain had been falling all afternoon and Pentagram City was shut down because of it. And you could feel yourself shutting down as well.

These bad days used to fall on you much more often. Back when life was simpler and less stimulating. When there were less options to hyper fixate on and stimulate those delightful hormones that didn’t always help you to feel happy but allowed you to . . . feel.

But today you felt that numbness creeping in; a slithering, creeping, darker cousin to boredom. You were so tired and every forced smile and polite reply aimed at the other hotel residents drained your battery little by little by little by little . . . .

You were on your fifth cup of coffee that afternoon, the bitter caffeinated beverage the only thing left that seemed to cause any kind of chemical spark in your dead gray matter, but unknowingly, you had stopped sipping it several minutes ago. Rather, you were just mindlessly staring down into it, watching the little tendrils of separated creamer swirl around the top. At least it was far more interesting than anything else going on in the lobby.

“Are we having a bit of a . . . down day?” Alastor’s voice said remarkably close to your ear and you jumped, turning to find him bent over at his waist, his head right next to yours.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, turning away from him.

He had pampered and fussed over you too many times on days like these, even when – no, especially when they became so bad you couldn’t get out of bed. But things were different now; since his return to Hell, Alastor was busier than ever and you didn’t want to bother him. The guilt would be worse than the emptiness you were currently struggling with.

“I think not,” came his sing-song reply and you shut your eyes against the enthusiasm you heard in his tone.

“Don’t I look fine?” you challenged and when he stood up straighter, his smile pinching just a little at the corners, you heard how snippy you sounded with him and sighed. There was the damnable guilt you had been trying to avoid.

“You look beautiful as always, darling,” came his quick reply. “I just thought you could use a little cheering up.”

He leaned back in, whispering conspiratorial into your ear now. “I was hoping you would join me . . . on a date . . .” His eyes glowed as he let his words sink in. “But if you’d rather sit in here and sulk the rest of the night, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Like . . . a date, date?” you asked, feeling a little bit of the weight leaving your chest as hope bloomed in you.

“Precisely.” His smile stretched ear to ear. “There is someone I need to collect a debt on and the weather tonight seems just perfect for such an occasion. I would more than welcome your company.”

You felt your first genuine smile of the day grace your features, nearly matching the wickedness of Alastor’s own features, and that little spark you had felt turned into an entire flood of dopamine.

“Where to?” you asked and Alastor took your head, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, before leading you out the front doors.

____

The prey dragged itself up the stairs, stumbling on every other step and grasping the handrail for balance as he went. Although the rainstorm had kept him from the bars that night, it hadn’t kept him from his personal stache of liquor and in his lonely anger, he had downed several gin and tonics before his stomach began to protest and he had passed out in his armchair. He’d woken up a few minutes ago, his bladder protesting the diuretic effects of the booze. By some miracle he had made it to his downstairs bathroom to relieve himself and then decided it was time to crawl into bed.

He made it to the top of the landing after a considerable struggle with the staircase and almost forgot to the turn the lights off behind him. Fumbling with the switch, he just happened to glance down the stairs as the lights flickered out of existence.

The prey blinked in the darkness, trying to adjust his eyes, as he thought he saw a strange shadow at the bottom of the stairs.

He was sure he was alone in the house and he couldn’t quite be sure of what he was seeing, so he flipped the lights back on.

Nothing.

Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, he turned the lights back off.

And there it was again.

A shadow. Taller and definitely there.

Feeling his heart begin to race, the prey flipped the lights on, certain he wasn’t imagining it this time but as the staircase became illuminated once more, the shadow was gone.

He had perhaps had too much to drink.

One last time, he flipped the switch, inviting the darkness back in, and this time when the shadow came back, the prey swore there were faint glowing green eyes and the hint of a smile playing across its features.

And was it a little closer this time? He had sworn it was at the bottom of the stairs but now it seemed to be a few steps up.

“Now that’s enough of that!” the prey shouted and flipped on the lights.

He breathed a sigh of relief when once more, there was nothing.

Maybe it was best to sleep with the lights on tonight, just to be certain.

The prey turned away from the stairs, leaving the switch flipped in the on position, and came chest to chest with The Radio Demon.

“Good evening, Daniel,” Alastor said, smiling wider as the prey’s face turned several shades whiter. “I see you’ve changed residences.”

“Hey there, Al’ . . . I-I mean, Alastor . . . sir. M-Mr. Radio D-demon,” the prey stuttered, stumbling backwards and just barely catching himself on the banister. “You uh . . . you like my new digs, huh? Paid a pretty penny for it but you know, it’ll be good for business.”

Alastor remained at the top of the stairs, watching his prey make its slow decent down and away from him.

“And who’s business would that be? Certainly not mine, I don’t deal in real estate after all.”

“You know, ha, it’s funny you would say that because I’ve been meaning to talk to you- ”

“You made a mistake, Daniel,” Alastor told his prey, all the politeness leaving his tone, although his smile remained.

The prey swallowed audibly.

“Did you really think going to Zestial, of all demons, would save you from our deal?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re . . . talking abou- ”

“You see, Daniel, Zestial and I may not necessarily be friends, but we are colleagues. And we have an understanding. A certain level of respect for each other, if you will.” Alastor narrowed his eyes and his voice turned cold as ice. “And neither of us like having another Overlord’s leftovers.”

Daniel turned and fled, racing down the rest of the steps with a grace that only adrenaline could provide in such a state of inebriation, though he did fumble quite a bit with the locks of the front doors.

Alastor let his prey make it out the front door before he went in pursuit, though he let his deep laughter follow Daniel the whole way down, enjoying the sweet tangy smell of his fear as it spiked at the sound.

In his panic, the prey forgot all about the inclement weather and dashed thoughtlessly out into the rainstorm and ran down the deserted street. It took a minute for the effects to kick in but eventually he started to feel the itching on his skin and then the burning set in. The prey stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, beneath a streetlamp, and watched as the skin on his hands began to turn red and break out in a terrible heat rash.

With a sob, he dashed under an overhang of a nearby business and shook at the doorhandle, but it wouldn’t budge. He thought about breaking the window to get inside but then he heard that laughter again and the streetlights above flickered and then went out, one by one.

Looking down the street, he watched as The Radio Demon stepped out into view, his antlers now wide and pointed above his silhouette, and turned his head down the street, looking in his prey’s direction.

A smell wafted off of him, even from this great distance. A dank, swampy, animalistic smell. The musk filled the prey’s nostrils and burned his sinuses, and he knew it was the smell of a predator about to pounce.

“That’s alright, Daniel, go ahead and run. Please do.”

To the prey’s horror, Alastor began walking quickly down the sidewalk, completely unaffected by the burning rain.  His limbs and entire body stretched out and elongated with every step, closing the distance between them faster than previously possible, until Alastor was a towering demonic presence chasing down the street after him.

“I like my meals warmed up!” he shouted, and the prey screamed as he took off again.

It was either face the rain or be eaten and the prey chose the rain as it sprinted down the street, screaming and crying out for help but not a light flickered on in the buildings as he passed them.

Eventually the burning became unbearable and the prey darted blindly into the nearest alleyway, praying to Roo herself that there would be some shelter to hide in and protect him from the rain.

And there it was, a small overhang by a bar’s backdoor, with a conveniently placed dumpster to hide next to that blocked his view of the street.

That was where the prey found you, standing innocently by the door, shielded from the rain, and he didn’t question why you would be there on a night like this. He only fell at your feet, clinging to your legs and shaking, his hands and face now beginning to blister, his tears hot and stinging his flesh as they fell down his cheeks.

“Please! Please, help me! Let me in! Please! He’s going to eat me, please!”

“Who is going to eat you?” you asked sweetly, tilting your head as you considered the pathetic demon at your feet.

“Alastor. Th-the Radio Demon. He . . . he . . .” the prey fumbled for words, his sentence trailing off as he risked peaking up over the top of the dumpster and seeing nothing but an empty street at the end of the alleyway.

“Oh, right. Him,” you said, nodding. “Well, that’s his thing, isn’t it? Going after demons that try and break their deals. Especially ones like you, who preyed after helpless young women when he was alive. Isn’t that right . . . Daniel?”

The prey’s breath caught in his throat as he glanced over his shoulder at you, a new kind of fear lighting his eyes.

“Who . . . who are you?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“That’s not important,” you scoffed. “Who was the girl you raped and left for dead in the park on the night of your 18th birthday? Or the sex workers you then tortured and killed and left their bodies out in the desert? Do you even remember their names? Do you know how many family members are still looking for their daughters, sisters, mothers?”

“I don’t . . . I didn’t . . .” he stammered, getting to his feet now.

“You did. No use denying it now, Daniel. Not when Alastor and I are so . . . very . . . hungry.”

A crackling noise, like the sound of several joints popping at once filled the air, and the prey looked up and up and up as he saw Alastor’s gigantic form peeling away from the darkened side of the building, turning from nothing but shadow into a very corporeal and deadly form before his very eyes.

Behind him, you shoved at his back, forcing him to fall onto his knees into a puddle of acid rain.

Then you stepped out from under the cover of the overhang, letting the rain soak your hair and clothes, and the prey looked up at you with renewed horror as he realized the acid water had no effect on you either.

“Please,” he whimpered and then began to scream as Alastor bent over and lifted him into the air.

You watched as the prey’s tiny body was lifted higher and higher until the rain and the shadows hid him mostly from view but you could still hear him screaming. Then there was a crunching noise and a wet sound, followed by a thin stream of blood that fell from the sky.

The screaming continued.

“This will be quite unpleasant until it’s over,” Alastor’s voice said from high above you. “But my darling companion does love the taste of demon heart.”

Another sound of stretching and tearing and then you saw it; the warm mass of your meal falling towards you, and you reached up and caught it with skilled precision.

With the prey’s heart now in your grasp, you brought it to your lips and took an eager bite, never minding the blood that ran down your forearms and coated your lower face.

The screaming above you came to a sudden halt with the sound of one final loud crunch and just as you were taking the last bites of your own meal, Alastor was standing before you.

His antlers were still larger than usual, their six points gleaming beautifully in the dim light of the alley, as rain ran down them in rivulets, soaking the red and black hair beneath them.

Alastor gave you a loving smile as you swallowed the last bit of heart.

“Feeling better, my love?” he asked.

“Much,” you said with a satisfied sigh. “Thank you.”

He reached a hand out, wiping away a bit of blood from the side of your mouth with his thumb, though he had hardly succeeded in getting it all.

“You always look positively stunning like this,” he said as he brought his bloody thumb to his mouth and gave it an appreciative suck.

And there in the rain and the dark, you and your lover shared a private and tender kiss, the perfect ending to a perfect date.

Tag list for part 2? It will be smutty.

[chlmtsdoll]

my suggestion could be i dont know if you seen this show called the l word before but there is a character named dana fairbanks and she RADIATES tashi duncan energy. so if you could maybe make a dana fairbanks inspired tashi duncan x reader or if you haven’t seen it i was thinking former model reader x tashi is a good one too 🤍

I’ve literally always wanted to watch the L word and I’m gonna have to start it soon bc I GET what you mean omg !!! And former model reader x Tashi hits my niche on the NOSE. This took me forever to publish bc I just had so many ideas I wanted to go with 😭 so I hope this is good !!! 🤍

IS IT A CRIME TO WANNA SHINE ?

✩ Pairing: Tashi Duncan x reader

✩ Word count: 3k

✩ Summary: your a wild and free it-girl, adjacent to a life going on to be an inspiring top model when you suddenly meet Tashi, you then start to crave even more

✩ Warnings: eventual smut !, gxg, age gap (reader early 20's) Tashi mid to late 30’s, failed!marriage Tashi, fingering, slight angst, spanking, cursing, degrading, pet names, needy reader, brief mentions of substances, Tashi went blonde after her divorce (blonde hair Z during the Challengers press tour)

Your life was casting calls, early (or late night) rehearsals & fittings, caffeine runs, flights back and forth around the country, and fashion show after fashion show, after party after after party..

You loved the career you were lucky enough to pursue, you had all the beauty, ideal body, and money. You’d been on top of the world but you were also twenty two and nearing burnout.

Your love life was non existent unless it was last minute hook ups, and you’d go home to a cold bed. Empty hearted and longing for someone to make it all change.

And it did change rather quickly when you met her.

“Um- excuse me, can I get by ?” You covered your eyes as lights and flashes blinded you. Trying your best to maneuver by meddling paparazzi, and your few body guards were barely any help. You were rising to the top but still hadn’t always been able to get the best protection which was essential for a young girl like you — even though to the outsiders it had seemed your life was so glamorous and beyond, even a dazzling starlet like you had struggles. It wasn’t always pretty.

You had finally been able to scurry to your limo and you were taken off fast to your next destination, an after party hidden for only the most relevant socialites and models in the industry. You’d known a few athletes and actors would have been there too since the club was well known yet anyone hardly got an invite.

Even you were declared lucky enough to be attending as you were still merely just an it-girl trying to find her place on the scale. When security tried to stop and ask you for verification because you looked far underaged, you rolled your eyes and dug through your thousand dollar Versace bag you did not pay for, to pull out your id.

Just a walk around, say hi to a couple known faces, and go home. We have an early rehearsal tomorrow.

You had a drill. The dozens of times you’d gone to these parties, you learned it was all a tactic,. simply being just work and networking for you — you were on a schedule. As much of a sex symbol your agents tried to present you as, deep down you’d still been this shy and reserved girl from your home tow, only difference is you just knew you had bigger places to be.

Lights low and music blaring throughout the place filled with bodies and people way too into their own self obsession to notice you after a while, all you wanted to do was have a smoke, maybe a drink. You’d known as big as the space was there had to be somewhere you could get away.

You headed upstairs to another area that was a bar as well, but much more relaxed. No club lights flashing and heels clashing against the marble floors by influencers hanging off their nearing the grave “boyfriends”.

But there had been one person sitting at the bar, and there had definitely been some interesting heels.

You’d seen the back of her excellent lean body. Almost in a way that was unreal. Legs had been slender and long, you had to double check if you’d been hallucinating at the sight of her.

She’d been wearing a full sparkling silver dress that had a pleated skirt with a few navy blue stripes lining it. It was preppy but in a glamorous and classy way.

Her skin tan and soft short blonde curls sat on her shoulders, it gave you a Marylin Monroe feel. And her heels — you’d never seen anything like them. They were Louboutins with tennis balls on the six inch heel ?

You took a breath as you examined her figure, stepping in the quieter room, you’d gone straight to the bartender as they asked your drink preference.

“Um, a gin and tonic please ?” you thanked the bartender before turning to peer at the woman a few feet from you, her hair draped over most of her face and all you could really see was her perfectly sculpted nose.

“Are those… tennis balls on your heels ?” You questioned softly, and the blonde had looked up at you, striking brown eyes searched your face under her lashes coated beautifully with mascara.

You had swallowed over a new lump in your throat at her gorgeous features. Never had you seen a woman so beautiful.

She’d look so familiar as well, you couldn’t tell if it was nolstagia, but you could of sworn you had posters of her on your walls when you were young- oh my god.

It’s Tashi Duncan.

The blonde highlights had thrown you a curb since you always remembered her with brown hair, but you remembered she had been much older since the days when she was every tennis girls idol in your eleventh year. Plus, you’d heard she’d gotten a divorce with her star tennis player husband, Art Donaldson.

Either way, fuck had the blonde complimented her eloquently. You’d been completely mesmerized by the way it framed her face.

“Oh these ? Yeah, they’re Loewe.” Her tone smooth as she looked down at the silky white shoes with a striking heel, neon green from the balls just tying it all together.

“I-I love them,” later you’d scorn yourself for stuttering like some starstruck fan. “Are you debuting in fashion week this year ? Not to be a bother but, you’re such a huge inspiration for women like me..you’re amazing.”

You shut your eyes quickly. You sounded way too juvenile. But Tashi had showcased a small flattered smile as she examined you face. You expected her to be unbothered and just walk away, after all you were merely just a dumb little model girl, frolicking around New York on a trust fund to her. She was a powerful and sophisticated woman who worked hard for everything she has. With all her shit together and much more life experience than you.

“No, I um.. I’m here for the fashion, but what to add to my company’s new roll out. I’m looking for models to campaign for me as well, but no luck so far. A lot of these girls all the same, and the designers they walk for pussy.” she spoke over her glass of vodka and your eyes glossed over with an immediate burn of yearning taking over your body.

You had forgotten that after Tashi stopped playing tennis from her infamous injury, but she hadn’t stopped there. She became one of the biggest business women in the industry, with her name tied to multiple brands. She was richer than your worth to be standing next her right now — but you were a strong believer in destiny. And being told she was looking for models to run for her brand,

She might as well say she’d been looking for you.

“Oh, that’s.. awesome. I’m walking in Milan for Vera Wang in a fortnight. But yeah, they make this all seem so serious but a lot of it is bullshit.” You thought if you threw in some pretty words she’d take you seriously. Coming from being in this industry since you were sixteen years old, you knew your way around selling yourself quick and sharply. In desperate hope she’d maybe let it run through her own to let you model for such a woman like herself. That you weren’t just one of those model girls.

“Lovely.” Tashi’s eyes graced over your tall slender body, you’d been so happy you went with a shorter Chanel dress and not the leather Prada pants you we’re pondering on. “You play tennis ? I know a lot of younger models love to think they’re all tennis players these days.”

You couldn’t help but let out a tiny laugh at her joke, but it had been true, you nodded over your glass of gin.

“Yeah, I play a little here and there with friends. But nothing like your upbringing, my god, I could never.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself.” Her eyes had narrowed but still sparked all the way, and she’d glanced at the way you licked your lips shorty. Your face heating up at the way her finger ran around the rim of her glass.

You couldn’t help but think about them sinking into your mouth.

Tashi took a breath to lean back against her chair, then she had leaned up to asked the bartender for a pen and napkin. When he brought it back to her, she had started scribbling on the paper, her slender fingers manicured with a nude color.

“If you ever want to model for me.” She handed you the napkin with her number and you’d feel like you had to stop breathing for a moment. Not even most high class brand deals had ever gotten you all flustered like this, but when it came to hot older women, you’d been like putty. You couldn’t deny it.

“Oh my god.. okay, okay I’d love to. I’ll contact you.” You had given her a girlish smile which you rarely ever did, it was all about resting bitch face, and to Tashi’s defense she had quite liked the lightness too you. The hope I’m your eyes that far too many girls your age had given up on already. She knew you had a spark.

In that moment, you had been already getting prepared for the dreams you’d have that night about being Tashi’s favorite and best model. When you said you wanted to be on top, you meant here.

And that was three years ago.

And not only had you become her best model, top seller in everything you wore, shown off on your angelic like body, making all your friends from your intern Jobs at Vogue envious with hate — that you’d eventually bump up even higher to becoming her girlfriend, but then that extended when you became the Tashi Duncan’s ex supermodel wife.

Now at the ripe age of twenty four, you’d no longer needed to run around to casting calls and auditions, nor even model unless either you desired too or you’d been offered to walk in fashion week.

You’d been promised a life of luxury. With Tashi by your side, letting you be her pride and joy that took her even farther to the next level. Your days had consisted of being a stay at home wife, going on yachts, accompanying her to photoshoots and work dinners, and you would even play tennis often in your free time with you and Tashi’s shared wealthy friends.

You had the life you’d always wanted in the palm of your hand, never did you honestly have to lift a finger. And definitely no thinking on your feet or wondering when the next spontaneous adventure would be really.

And as enticing as it all was, it could at times get a little mundane even for you.

“Make sure she arrives to her lessons on the dot. And I don’t want tv time running to late when practice is over.” you over heard Tashi on the phone with her mom whom was watching over her daughter Lily while the two of you took a quick work trip (flying to Europe.)

You’d been on Tashi’s private jet just about to take off in due time, and you watched as your wife sipped on a cup of Matcha by one of the window seats. Her light colored locks pulled up into a French roll, and some of her bangs hung over her lashes.

She wore a suit dress, white with fabric silky of the softest kind. The way she wore the blazer had her glowing tan skin on display. A true sight for sore eyes.

She was beautiful in every way, and not even your own overachiever mindset could still grasps the fact that she had been your wife overall.

“Okay. Love you too, bye.” Tashi hung up the phone and dropped it onto the table in front of her in a unbothered manner as she went right back to her laptop to check emails.

You, observant and always in witness of the life you two had altered together, watched her. Pondering by the cafe station that was stocked with dozens of different flavors from teas to lattes and all kinds of milks and creamers to choose from.

You’d always gone with almond.

“We have to stop in Florence. There’s a dress fitting you have to attend with Ralph Lauren for this seasons collab.” Tashi spoke to you in orderly to you as she hadn’t even looked up from her laptop screen to meet your eyes. She took a sip from her cup and went right back to typing, you had scoffed and shook your head a bit as you pushed away the container of sugar in your hands,

Leaning against the counter, you remembered when you’d been in your honeymoon phase with the woman you loved most. Happily traveling across the country with her full attention on you. You missed that rush.

You missed her.

“Oh..” you trailed on, voice reluctant as you looked down at your cup, dark black tea. You didn’t even need to look because now you’d known Tashi’s eyes had found your figure from just a few Louis Vuitton sit cases away.

“Yeah ? What’s up ?” Her voice was light although you knew she had picked up on your distance. Now giving you full attention of whatever you had been disproving of from just the sound of your voice.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment at your puzzled expression, finger tips hover the rim of her mug.

“I just thought we’d get Dior this season.” Is all you said. Standing up straighter and looking at the woman who nodded.

“Well, they haven’t decided on if we can or can’t do a campaign this year, it’s been a couple of years we’ve been trying. You know that.” Tashi answered as she let her mug down and you’d known the slight annoyance in her voice all too well. You bit your lip a little in thought.

“I just thought this would be the year. I want Dior, I want to work with them this season.”

Tashi looked at you with a blank expression, trying not to play this game she’d known you’d been treading on for a while now, and you tried not to break a grin at her switch in demeanor to your obvious attempt to make her get unpleasant with you.

“Are you being ungrateful ?”

“No.”

“You’re acting like it.”

“I want a say in what I wear, who I walk for.” You had addressed her more sternly and it was a small moment that had passed before Tashi got up from where she was sitting, to trot over to you calmly.

But that wasn’t so when her hand came up to you sharp, bringing slight pain when she grabbed your chin in her grasp so you could look her eye to eye.

“You don’t wanna do it. Don’t do it. But you can leave.”

Your eyes went to her unsympathetic expression quick, and you tried not to whine at her hold on you.

“You can always leave because I don’t think it runs through that pretty little head of yours that I didn’t get divorced and remarried just to repeat the same shit I did with him. You think this is some fucking charity ?”

You fell back on forming a response when the glint in Tashis eyes as she narrowed at you had, scared you much more than you intended — yet at the same time you couldn’t look away as she got in your face.

“I give you everything. Life, a career, a voice. Let you choose your own hours and let you become of whatever you want while you whine and complain in jewelry that cost more than most people’s rent. And you want what ?” Tashi furrowed her eyebrow as she had grow repugnant of you, which you couldn’t help but love.

“Don’t forget I was your boss first. And I always will be.” Her tone has gone darker as she peers at you, your eyes wide with craving and you’d be lying if you said your core hadn’t become soaking wet when her sent of oak and raspberries was almost suffocating you now.

You’d shown her a soft grin on your lips, signaling you couldn’t have wanted her more right then, she wet her lips intermittently. Tashi turned you around with force and pushed your lower back onto the counter that was embarking you,

“Is this what you want ?” The woman croaked hungrily over your ear as she pushed on your slender body to bend over for her,

“Yes,” you let out a breathe of satisfaction finally.

panting softly as her hands explored your shape and your eyebrows knitted in exhausting bliss when her palm had came down hard on your now exposed ass.

Tashi kissed the space between your neck and shoulders briefly as she whispered,

“You’ve always been an attention whore.”

You couldn’t help but smile as she pulled on your hair to lean up and her fingers graced your heat, wet and pulsing for her. Tashi had hesitated before dipping them into you and you let out a pleading moan, face against the cold marble counter top.

You clawed at something to grab at as her digits pumped you slow than gradually faster, other hand grasping at your waist to seize you because she knew you’d come quick.

And you did with half a cry and half whimper.

You only had a second to catch your breath before Tashi pulled you up straight. She had gently placed your skirt back over your thighs, fixing your presence back to how she found you. Your wife then hovered over your lips,

“Behave.” Was the last thing she said to you without even an apologetic kiss before walking back to her lap top like nothing. You had gone back to your tea and with a pleased simper on your lips indeed.

You were a wild card that would do whatever to be under Tashi’s control, have her notice, and with that she’d known that you’d now be her perfect little model the moment you two would land this evening.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Be Mine

Jay Halstead x Reader

A casual thing with Jay turns serious when he sees someone else flirting with you.

You knew Jay’s record when it came to dating. Disastrous was a word for it, not that yours was much better but you at least stuck to dating outside of your profession because you’d seen too many relationships implode, his and Erin’s one of them. You told yourself there was no issue with you being assigned as his new partner, Jay was your friend for sure and yes he was gorgeous, you had eyes but you wouldn’t let yourself go there. You were too smart to fall for your partner.

The first week or so was easy. There was the usual adjustment period of getting used to being at each other’s side during work hours. After that passed the two of you quickly found a rhythm that worked. Within a couple months of being partnered you and Jay were to the point of a look being passed said more than words with anyone else. When the year mark passed it was like you’d always been partners.

You and him were currently in his truck watching a suspect’s residence while you waited for a patrol car to relieve you. You reached for your coffee and groaned when you realized it was empty “That was like your fifth cup” Jay laughed and you cut your eyes at him “Well if that damn patrol car would hurry up maybe I wouldn’t need as much caffeine to stay awake” “So my company isn’t stimulating enough?” he asked, as if he was offended.

You turned in the passenger seat to stare at him long enough that he raised an eyebrow “What?” you shrugged “Take your shirt off, then maybe you’ll be stimulating enough I can stay awake” his mouth fell open and you couldn’t help but laugh “What? You look good shirtless! That would keep anyone awake, just to ogle you” 

He shook his head “I can’t believe you’re objectifying me like this” you grinned “Oh honey, do you want me to objectify you?” before you could blink his hand had moved from where it’d been resting on the console to slip around the back of your neck, holding you in place as he said “As soon as that damn patrol car gets here and I get you back to my apartment you can do whatever you want to me, just remember that goes both ways”

You swallowed hard at the promise, ok maybe you hadn’t been as smart as you originally had thought. You and Jay had been sleeping together for a few months. It started after a close call. Adrenaline was high, the two of you went out for a beer. You never made it into the bar. He’d met you at your truck and the moment you stepped out his lips were on yours. You’d been shocked for a moment then returned the kiss fully and when he realized that his hands slipped around your waist, pulling you closer with one while the other slipped down to grab a handful of your ass. When the need for air pushed you apart, chests heaving he’d gave you one of those smiles that always made your stomach flip “I’m sorry, I just had to do that” “Don’t apologize for a kiss like that Halstead, damn” you teased.

The morning after found the two of you wrapped around each other in his bed. After a bit of an awkward wakeup an agreement formed that the sex was mind blowing and your partnership and friendship was too important to risk. You’d continue to sleep together but it wouldn’t be an official thing. That way you’d have the best of both worlds. You hadn’t realized what you were agreeing to at the moment.

The longer you were in his bed, the more you fell for him but it wasn’t like you could stop now. He was worse than any addiction because you were head over heels for this one.  He wasn’t just good in bed, he was protective and smarter than he gave himself credit for and such a sweetheart. Jay was just a genuinely good man for the most part. Anyone would fall for him, that was how you convinced yourself you weren’t the world’s biggest idiot.

Jay was just leaning closer to catch your lips in a quick kiss when he pulled his hand away and leaned back to his side of the truck. You shot him a questioning look then saw the patrol car. “Thank god” you muttered and he grinned “Oh really?” you glared at him “You’re not that damn good in bed Jay. I’m eager to get out of this truck”

His jaw clenched as he pulled away from the curb and headed in the direction of his apartment where you’d parked your truck. Once you were clear of the patrol car his hand slipped back over the console and this time it slipped down between your thighs, when your legs fell open in response to his touch he chuckled darkly “Really looks like I’m not that good when you’re spreading your legs in my truck there darling”

You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you and muttered “Fuck you Jay” his hand slipped higher and he grinned, eyes never leaving the road “That’s the plan”

You were trying to focus on the witness you and Hailey were interviewing but the woman who was currently shoving her chest in Jay’s face about two feet to your right was grating on your nerves. When you saw her pass him a piece of paper folded up and him shove it in his pocket you felt like your head may actually catch on fire. He took her number?!? 

You knew this thing between you two wasn’t official but damn you thought it was something. 

“Hey, you good?” Hailey asked and you nodded “Yeah, I’m good” if Jay didn’t want you as much as you wanted him then why the hell were you letting him drag your heart through the dirt and keep you on the back burner for sex when the fact was if he’d take someone’s number, in your face, on the job he was more than likely fucking other people too. 

Jay couldn’t believe the woman wouldn’t shut up until he took her number. He just hoped you hadn’t seen. He’d throw it away as soon as she turned her back. If only she knew that the gorgeous detective interviewing someone not far from him was who he spent most of his spare time with, maybe she’d back off.

He cut his eyes over where you and Hailey were moments before and saw your retreating back. Ok, maybe you two had gotten a lead? He’d see you back at the precinct. As soon as he got off he planned to ask if you wanted to grab dinner. 

_______________

Two days had passed and Jay was losing his mind. He had no idea what he’d done to you but that day when he’d gotten back to the precinct you barely looked his way then offered to buy Hailey dinner as soon as all of you got off. He’d brushed it off. He didn’t have to spend all of his time with you after all.

Now he was worried it was something else. You weren’t answering any texts, barely speaking to him at work if it wasn’t directly related to whatever case you had and the look on your face when you did make eye contact with him was different. He didn’t like the way the pit in his stomach doubled in size every time. Had you found someone else? Were you freezing him out in hopes he’d end things? How the hell was he supposed to go back to just being partners?

When Friday night hit Jay overheard you telling Adam and Kim you’d see them at Mollys and decided he’d be there too. He had to see you, maybe if you weren’t at work you’d talk to him? Maybe he could fix whatever he’d done.

_______________

Jay parked his truck across the street from Mollys then walked towards the bar. His one goal was to find you. When he pushed the door open the sound of your laughter hit his ears. He looked towards the sound and the pit in his stomach turned to anger when he saw you talking with one of the firefighters that were in town for some sort of training at fifty one. 

The way you were looking at the guy was the way you looked at him. You weren’t supposed to look at anyone else like that. His feet started moving without him thinking and before he realized he was in front of you, “Y/N? Can we talk?”

____________________

Nikolaus was a decent looking guy, not as good looking as Jay but not ugly. He was also sweet. You were having a decent time talking to him when you felt someone move up behind you right before Jay stepped into your line of vision “Y/N? Can we talk?”

You cut your eyes up at him and felt your heart flip. God why did he have to affect you like that? “Nik, this is my partner Jay” Nik offered his hand but Jay’s eyes never left you “Nice meeting ya but I need to talk to her” Nik cut his eyes at you, and you nodded “I’ll talk to you later”

You watched him walk away then looked back at Jay “What?” he looked from where Nik’s back had disappeared through the crowd back to you “Whatever we have right now is not enough” you knew your confusion was plain because after him taking that woman’s number you were fairly certain you didn’t have anything. 

“What do you mean Jay? You don’t want to be with me. I saw you take her number” he huffed out a laugh as he rolled his eyes “If you would’ve kept watching then you would’ve saw me through it away too” “Wait, what?” you froze, eyes wide.

He nodded “I didn’t want her number. I didn’t want her. I want you but I can't have you looking at someone the way you look at me.” he shook his head “That I can’t handle so I need you to make this official. Right now. Please"  you felt a smile slip onto your face "Were you...jealous?"

He slipped his arms around your waist and you registered this was a very public display of affection. "Yes. Of course I'd be jealous! You haven’t really spoken to me in days then that damn firefighter thinking he has a chance?”

Your hands went to his chest, smoothing over his shirt “So, you really want to make this official?” he grinned, pulling you in for a kiss. When he pulled away he smiled “Yeah next time some woman won’t take no for an answer can I point out my amazing girlfriend?”

You tapped your chin like you were thinking and he shook your hips playfully “Baby”  you laughed then said “Yes you can say I’m yours, just as long as I can call you mine” He grinned “Deal” 

[darklordofthesimp]

Sanative (John Price x Reader)

Summary: As Captain Price attends your medical room more often, he manages to get you to open up to him.

A/N: THIS WAS DIFFICULT

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Fluff

Warnings: Graphic Language || Description of Violence

Captain John Price went from being an unseen legend to appearing everywhere you turned. 

Obviously, you'd tended to him and members of his team before. Some of them were from the recent selection but the most memorable ones had carried through from the past. You just hadn't expected to see the leader as often as you did. 

"Captain," you greeted, swallowing thickly as you found him leaning against your doorway.

"Doc," he replied casually, the crack in his voice telling you that he was injured. You rushed forward as he groaned through his teeth. "When are you gonna call me 'John'?" 

"Well," you huffed, as you flew to prep your table and his seat, "probably when you call me Saint."

The Captain chuckled as he dragged himself further into the room, hand pressed to his stomach and his gaze firmly locked on you. The man had made sure the door stayed open, breaking the habit of closing it behind him. It made you uncomfortable and while it wasn’t entirely providing him with any privacy, he much rathered your medical attention over isolation. 

 He watched you move with deft fingers, unwrapping, sanitizing and somehow still maintaining a conversation. 

"Come lay down, John," you murmured absent-mindedly, maneuvering the chair to lay out flat like a bed. 

"There you go," the officer groaned with a tight-lipped smile, genuine but pained. “You do listen.” 

“Or maybe I just pity you, Sir,” you offered him a sly smile, the addressing of his authority was a purr on your tongue. It was playful or meant to be, you hadn’t really thought twice about it. 

But John? God. 

His movements faltered, fingers digging into the bed until his knuckles turned white. He tried to clear his throat but it was more of a strangled choke and his cheeks burned bright with embarrassment. Or shame. His thoughts fell somewhere dirty, somewhere they shouldn’t have been. 

Your name may have been Saint, but all you did was make him sin. 

When your fingers dragged across his midriff, stroking over his hand to encourage it to move from the wound, John forgot how to breathe. You sucked in a sharp breath between your teeth at the blood drenching his shirt. 

“You gonna take off your clothes or do you want me to do all the work?” You asked, leaning back with an amused smile. John swallowed thickly. 

“I don’t think I can, love.” A strained grimace followed his chuckle and he clenched his jaw tightly. “Might have to cut it off.”

You hummed suggestively as you reached for the scissors, a small smirk playing on your lips. When the fabric of his shirt sat snuggly beneath the blades, John reached over to touch your hand lightly. 

“Take it easy.” The statement was clearly a question, pleading with you to be soft on him. 

“Don’t worry,” you laughed. “I’ll be gentle.” 

The Captain groaned. “You’re doing that on purpose.” 

“I’m trying to distract you.” 

“It’s working.” 

The words were a growl as the disinfectant met his wound. You tried not to let the tables turn and attempted to block out the sound of his groans. He was unashamed in his grunting, red crawling up his neck as he gnashed his teeth. 

You knew he was in pain and that you were breaking some ethical code by entertaining these thoughts. At the end of the day, John was many things- but he wasn’t a mind reader.

It was quiet between you both as you worked. Usually, you filled the space with small talk or casual flirtation but you’ve been running on caffeine and a chocolate bar for the past 19 hours and you didn’t have the energy to talk. 

Thankfully, John was understanding. He watched you carefully as you worked, you could feel his gaze burning into your skin as you forced your eyes down. It wouldn’t have been hard for him to see the symptoms of your exhaustion. The minimal amount of flirtiness would have been the biggest indicator. 

It was jarring for the Captain, he wasn’t exactly working in an environment that had much exposure to coquettish people. You figured that’s why he’d reacted so obviously to all your advances, subtle or brash in nature. 

You wondered if he’d been struck with the question of whether you flirted with all your patients. Did he think that it was part of your medical practice? Something that you did with everyone who’d come through? You’d been out of the social scene for so long that you forgot how to interact with someone you were interested in. 

Maybe you were just embarrassing yourself by trying. 

“Saint.” A voice sounded from the doorway. 

Both you and the Captain turned to see one of the nurses poke their head inside. You immediately offered a smile, acknowledging their call. 

"You got another 141 boy waitin' outside for you," they said with a roll of their eyes. "Want me to send 'em in when you're done here?" 

"Please," you nodded, "shouldn't be too long." 

Price groaned as the nurse disappeared back into the hallway. "Fuck's sake." 

The sound of the door clicking shut had your reply dying on your tongue. The room fell silent as you zeroed in on the now closed door.

Anger flushed through your body, heat licking up your spine as if someone had lit you on fire. Your fingers tightened on your equipment as you tried to steady your breathing.

The nurses knew better, they knew better than to close your office door. While it was common practice to maintain a private space, they fucking knew that didn't apply to you. 

"Saint?" John's soft call barely registered, tugging you back to the situation at hand. 

You cleared your throat. The Captain raised a brow. 

"Lean back and brace yourself," you rasped, avoiding his gaze. 

You wanted to throw your tools at him and clamber to your feet. Your blood buzzed with urgent anxiety, pressing you to open that door. You didn't want to be alone in here- you couldn't be alone in here. 

So much could happen. It could happen again. It might happen again. What if it happened again? 

You couldn't breathe, the replay of that fateful afternoon displayed across your vision like a fucked up movie. 

Not again. 

A hand clapped down on yours and you realised that John had been trying to get your attention. Your eyes snapped upward to meet his with a startled gasp, fingers shaking in his grip. 

"You good there, love?" The Captain ducked his head to meet your dropping gaze. 

"It's Saint," you stammered.

There was an amused huff. "Saint." 

"Yeah," your vision blurred. "...Saint." 

The man before you took in a sharp breath. Concern shone brightly in his gaze as he appraised you like he'd just dragged you from the battlefield- like you were a casualty. You wondered what he'd deemed your condition to be when his jaw set with resolve. 

John raised his hands in front of him, showing you his palms as he stood to his feet. Your heart leapt into your chest at the movement but you forced yourself to remain still. Your eyes tracked him carefully until he reached the doorway.

When the door swung open it was as if your airway did too. 

Dry but quick breath rattled in your chest, chasing the black spots from your vision. It was as if someone had taken their hands away from your throat. 

"We ever gonna talk about that, sweetheart?"  John asked softly, the words dulcet and comforting. 

"Saint," you corrected with a whisper. 

He shot you a discontented look. 

When he finally reached the seat, his mouth twisted into a grimace. His hand shot to his stomach and you jolted, suddenly realizing that you hadn't finished patching up his wound. 

John groaned as you pressed your hand against his chest, pushing him back onto the bed forcefully. His mouth twisted but he said nothing, no flirty comment, no subtle innuendo- the atmosphere was too serious for that. 

Instead, the Captain opted to watch you as you worked. Ignoring the sting of his butchered skin and taking in your visage kept him occupied and had him laying still. 

You could feel his gaze, it was hot and heavy and burned every inch of skin it passed over. Blue eyes turned to blue fire, forcing you to shiver beneath the intensity. 

"It was a soldier," you offered suddenly. The words had fallen from your tongue before you could close your teeth around them. 

Price went still. 

"He'd come back from a bad mission," you took in a shuddering breath. "Real bad, John." 

He didn't make a sound, afraid that you would clam up if you thought about his presence. 

Your fingers shook as you worked, your eyes on his wound but seeing something else. You might have looked like you were in the room with him but you were galaxies away. 

"He'd been through hell and clawed his way out," you rasped. "By the time he got brought to me, he was half deranged." 

Hands closing around your neck, throwing you onto your own nursing bed. His body on top of yours. Rage smouldering in his gaze- tears burning in yours. 

No one could hear your strangled screams and you watched in despair as the closed door stayed shut. There was no reprieve, there was no rescue- there was only the shell of a man above you. 

You begged, he sneered. 

You sobbed, and he gripped you tighter. 

When you whispered his name, his real name, with your dying breath… that's when he stopped. 

That's when he pulled away as if your skin had scorched him. That's when he scooped your crumpled and gasping body against his in a broken embrace, begging for your forgiveness. 

Praying for redemption. 

His body wracked violently as he wept, fingers digging into your skin. His face was pressed into the crook of your neck and his tears ran down your chest. 

"I'm so, so sorry. God. Please help me. Please-" The words were strangled, choked even. 

The door flung open hard to reveal the nurses you'd been screaming for earlier. You wondered if you hadn't said his name, would they be walking in to find you dead beneath him? 

When the nurses and guards ran in to remove him, you threw a shaky hand over the man's shoulder. 

A silent command. 

'Stop.'

No one dared to disobey. 

Not when your eyes burned with determined tears, not when your hands came to wrap around the soldier protectively. 

You cradled the broken person in your arms, his wailing growing louder when he realized what you were doing. Your hand rubbed up and down his shoulder, your fingers stroking the back of his head- letting his body fit tightly between your arms. 

He'd lost so much weight, his bones jutting into your skin. You couldn't imagine the horrors he'd been through. When you'd read the report briefly before they admitted the soldier, you couldn't believe your eyes. 

None of this surprised you. 

You would never blame him for his distrust. 

It was your job to help him. 

"You're okay," you soothed, trying to erase the shakiness of your words. Your heart still thrashed wildly in your chest, adrenaline pumping from the near-death experience. "I've got you. You're safe with me. I'll make sure you're okay." 

The man pressed his face further into your neck, gnashing his teeth against your skin like the tortured soul that he was. He shook his head. 

"You've gotta be a fuckin' saint," he rasped, sniffling between words. "No other explanation." 

"Not a saint," you let loose a startled laugh. "Just a doctor." 

"You're a saint to me, Doc."

A Saint. 

Saint. 

You blinked back to the present, realizing that John had been holding your hand throughout the entire conversation. Slowly, you let your thumb rest over his. The simple sign of affection had John drawing in a deep breath and leaning back in his seat. 

"That's why you don't like the door being closed?" 

You nodded. 

"And that's why they call you Saint?" 

"Yeah." 

The Captain nodded slowly. There was nothing further for him to say, no matter how much he searched for the words. He wanted to commend you, you could tell by the way that he leaned forward- but the look on your face told him that you didn't want to hear it. 

It was your job, not an achievement. 

"You're all patched up now, John." You muttered, suddenly uncomfortable by the vulnerability. 

You never thought you'd be sharing that story with anyone, you figured that if your soldier was ready he'd tell everyone about your connection. Maybe you'd overstepped by telling John although it was vague and non-descriptive.

Price stood to his feet, hesitant. 

"You don't have to say anything, Captain," you said, sanitizing the nursing bed. 

"I want to." He rasped. 

You smiled as you stood up straight. "Take me to coffee and I might consider letting you talk."

The man blushed. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Wordless noises tumbled from his lips as he scrambled for an answer. "Tomorrow?" 

"Tomorrow."

With that John left the room, rounding the corner to uncover which one of his overgrown kids had injured themselves. Out of everyone, he hadn't expected to find Simon with his head laid back against the wall. 

"Jesus," Price raised a brow. "You good?" 

Simon grunted his affirmative. "Am I right to go in?"

"Yeah, mate." 

John watched as the Lieutenant struggled to his feet, gripping the doorway to your office. He heard your voice trinkle through the hallway, inviting him in. The Captain waited, waited for Simon to inevitably close the door behind him- he would quickly open it and then leave. He didn't want to linger, didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable but he couldn't just let you go through that anxiety again.

Simon was known for valuing his privacy, and his need for concealment and isolation. It would only be natural of him to close the door behind him, unaware of Saint's history.

But, when Ghost walked through the threshold, John took in a sharp breath. 

The Lieutenant slipped straight in, slowly and with his eyes cast downcast- though, that wasn't what caught Price's attention.

He didn't close the door. 

[inawickedlittletown]

You've Got the Love to See Me Through - 7x06 coda

Read on Ao3

Summary: Tommy's pov of 7x06...or just let this man get some rest.

Words: 4,769

-

“Go home, Kinard. Get some sleep. Remember, you’re on standby tonight.” 

Sleep. Right. Tommy was definitely not going home to get sleep despite how much he might want to. He could have called Evan and made his excuses, but Evan had already texted him twice that week to make sure he was coming to Chimney’s Bachelor party, so Tommy really couldn’t miss it. Not even because his shift had wound up running something like four hours long or because he was on standby. It was part of the job, he’d had longer nights they just usually ended with him passed out on his bed, not driving to a karaoke lounge. Considering it was the night before the wedding, Tommy figured things weren’t going to get out of hand or go too long and he’d get to his bed eventually. 

He headed into the building and had to walk down a long hall until he finally made it to the room Evan had reserved. He saw Eddie first, giving him a high five. Then his eyes landed on Evan. He looked good and seeing Evan took away some of his exhaustion, especially when they hugged and he could smell his cologne. 

Tommy was glad, when he could sit down and get something that resembled rest. He would have preferred it if Evan sat down too, instead they all got to watch him as he paced and glared at anyone that dared to try to go near the sliders. He’d lost count of the number of times that Evan had already tried to call Chimney and kept himself entertained watching Eddie play bartender, when he wasn’t watching Evan. 

Time had ceased to have much meaning for Tommy some three hours back, so he had no idea how much had passed when Hen stood up, her wife following suit. And others started to follow their lead despite how much Evan tried to keep them. 

Of course, that’s when he got the call to go in. So much for getting any sleep.

He could see the disappointment on Evan’s face, and Tommy wished it was different. He wished he could stay behind and maybe convince Evan that they could still have fun, but he was on standby and he wouldn’t be called in without reason. 

“Be safe,” Evan said. 

Tommy held onto that. He felt a little odd, too, because though he’d known it would be different to date a fellow first responder, he still hadn’t really understood, because as disappointed as Evan was at his departure, he also got it. 

He caught up to Hen and Karen, making their way to the exit. 

“You’re leaving too?” Hen asked. 

“Got called in,” Tommy said. 

“Does that mean you’ll miss the wedding?” Karen asked. 

“I’ll try not to. So, Chim really didn’t want this party?” 

Even without looking at her, Tommy could tell that Hen was rolling her eyes. “Buck wore him down. Or, maybe Chimney got tired of saying no and never intended on coming.”

Karen made a noise of agreement. “He’s probably enjoying his hotel room. I don’t blame him.” 

Tommy said his goodbyes and got to his car. In an effort to keep himself awake, he drove to a starbucks on the way to Harbor and downed most of the drink before he arrived. 

Lucy was getting out of her car as he parked and she waited for him. 

“Hey. They called you in too?” She called out to him. 

“Sure did,” Tommy said, and tried to fight a yawn. 

He was in the air within fifteen minutes, flying out solo to drop retardant over the fire. When he landed, he had to wait for the chopper to be filled up again which meant his priority was getting to the coffee maker for more caffeine. He pulled his phone out and took it off airplane mode as he went and watched as several texts landed in his inbox.

Evan: No Chim. How’s work? Stay safe. 

Evan: Partying with people. Still no Chim. 😔

Evan: SHOTS!! 

Evan: Eddi says we gotts toooo song 👨🏻‍🎤🎤

Another text came through as he was fixing his coffee. 

Eddie: yo misssss all tge fun adinkamsc 

Tommy couldn’t help but snort. Oh, they were both going to regret their night. 

He had just enough time to drink his coffee before he was back out in the sky. When he got back to the station, he ran into Lucy. 

“We’re gonna fly out there and help from the ground,” she informed him. “The retardant is helping, but they need more bodies. There’s been a few injuries. This thing is huge.” 

Their captain confirmed as Tommy made it inside. 

He checked his phone on the way to the locker room. 

Evan: wHet lik boo y 

Evan: takhujns par tee to cim 🥳

Eddie: UBEr!1!!!1

Evan: No 🔑 🧑🏻‍🚒🧑🏻‍🚒

Tommy was far too tired and busy to actually decipher what Evan could mean. 

It was rare for him to have to use his turnout gear. He was a pilot, his skills were best used in the sky, but sometimes it was about going where they were needed. He carried the gear out rather than putting it on. Lucy joined him and Tommy flew them back out, this time dropping the water that had been loaded on. Lucy did the work of reporting what they saw from the air and it didn’t look great. The sky was tinted orange and gray and it could have looked beautiful if it wasn’t so destructive. They were directed to reload more water to drop and that was how it went for a while. 

Tommy had no idea what time it was when they were told to just bring down the chopper and join on the ground. It was night, but that was hard to tell with the orange and yellow flames and the clouds of smoke that flew into the air. They landed pretty far from the fire itself, and would have to walk past all the trucks and cars. They put on their gear, Tommy taking his flight suit off to replace it with the heavy pants and coat, and then they were on their way. 

“You look beat, Kinard,” Lucy said. 

“I already worked OT on my last shift. Now this.” 

“Ouch,” she said. 

“And I’m supposed to be going to a wedding tomorrow.” 

She winced. “That’s tomorrow? I don’t think you’re gonna make it.” 

He just laughed. He’d sort of given up on that prospect. The suit he’d left hanging off his closet door would just need to be put back in the back of his closet unless he got out of there in time to join everyone at the reception. Sometimes the job just wasn’t fair, but the closest to having the day off that Tommy had managed was staying on standby. It was also why he’d taken the shift he’d just got off of. 

“I know you were looking forward to it, Tommy,” Lucy said, patting his shoulder. 

Tommy shrugged. There would be other dates with Evan, but this had felt special. Not just how Evan had wanted to include him in something so important, but because it was Evan showing everyone who he really was. 

“One good thing is he’ll understand why you aren’t making it,” Lucy added. 

That just reminded Tommy of the disappointed look on Evan’s face when he left the karaoke lounge.

They got their orders from the battalion chief and Tommy found himself falling into the rhythm. Anytime he had to get down on the ground, it reminded Tommy why he loved the sky, not that he really minded the change in pace. He did gain his second wind as he worked which helped keep him going. 

Tommy didn’t get a chance to check his phone again until he was on a break. Grabbing a protein bar to snack on and drinking water for his very parched and dry throat. 

He had a voicemail from Eddie as well as a few missed calls and several texts. 

Evan: 🛏️ 🤵🏻‍♂️

Evan: 🚁

Eddie: 🍾🍾bavcnjklo’s!!

Evan: i mus u…com e bcksjm pldne

Eddie: yo boyfrienddd owens 👚

Tommy just smiled. He was going to have so much fun when he saw Evan again. He didn’t bother with the voicemail, because he had to save something to amuse himself with later and then returned to the job. 

As the night wore on, he was sent back to Harbor to fuel up, and fill up with retardant. It was apparently the type of fire that just kept fueling itself up. They were doing some work fighting it and keeping it from spreading, but he could tell it would still be hours before they were close to getting it put out. 

The next time he checked his phone there wasn’t anything new and he hoped that meant that Evan had gone to bed. At least one of them was getting some sleep. 

A few hours later found him clutching at the tiny paper cup of coffee he’d been handed by a stressed looking boy. It wasn’t gonna do much, but anything to stay attentive. He pulled his phone out and it was getting really close to wedding time. He might be lucky if he made it to the reception. 

Evan: Chim is missing 

Evan: Sorry for all the drunken texts.

Evan: Last night was insane. We thought Chim was sleeping…he wasn’t here all night. 

Evan: He wouldn’t leave Maddie at the altar. Something has to be wrong. 

Evan: Found Chim’s phone

Evan: No Chim 

Evan: Maddie is going to dispatch to look for him. Sending people home from wedding. Guess you won’t be missing it after all. Be safe out there. I’ll keep updating. 

Tommy suddenly wondered why none of them had actually bothered to check in on Chim the night before. How long had he been missing? 

“Hey, what’s up?” Lucy asked. 

“Looks like Chim is missing,” Tommy said.

A text came through just then. 

Evan: He got on a bus going downtown. 

“They find him?” 

“Not yet,” Tommy said. 

“Keep me updated, alright?” 

Due to his lack of rest, Tommy was kept working on the ground. The fire just didn’t seem to want to die down. He’d lost count of how many companies had been brought out. After his second wind, he did gain a third, and it kept him going. When he could, he checked his phone, looking for the good news that Chim had been found safe and sound. 

Evan: Pretty sure Chim has viral encephalitis

Evan: Out on the street looking for him. He helped triage a bunch of people. We think he doesn’t remember what year it is. 

Evan: He went to the Lees. They’re taking him to the hospital. 

Evan: Drs pretty confident he’ll be fine.

He felt relieved and yet he also knew that Evan was probably hung over, worried, and dealing with his sister’s emotions and worries as well. He wished, more than anything, to be there for him and give Evan a shoulder to lean on. 

On his next break, while he tried to stomach a granola bar, he got a good look at his phone again. The fire was more than 80% contained. A lot of the companies already making to depart. 

Evan: He’s awake and he wants to get married anyway. Have to do it before visiting hours are over. Ceremony starts in like an hour. 

He’d attached a location pin. 

“Hey, did they find him?” 

Tommy looked up. “Yeah. They’re having the wedding at the hospital.” 

Lucy made a face. “Seriously? I guess that’s fitting for them.” 

“Is Kinard texting his boyfriend again?” someone else asked. 

Tommy turned and found James, who wiggled his eyebrows. Lucy laughed. 

“Yes, actually. He’s sad he’s not gonna make it to the wedding.” 

“Oh, shit, that’s today?” 

“Yeah…but, you know, fire. And now it’s happening at the hospital, so…”

So he wasn’t going to make it there and Evan would probably make that pouty disappointed face and Tommy was the one that had put it there. Not on purpose, and maybe Evan would understand, but he would still be responsible for it. 

“So he’s gonna be moody all the way back to Harbor,” Lucy said. 

They were given the okay to go when they got back from their break and Tommy couldn’t have been happier. He still wouldn’t make it. He and Lucy were gonna have to catch ride back to Harbor and then even if he didn’t stop to get changed, he’d still have to drive to the hospital. 

Lucy solved the problem for him, getting him a lift on the ambulance taking a couple of firefighters with minor burn injuries. He didn’t care that he was a mess and that he still had all his gear on.  

Tommy: Heading over to hospital. Not sure I’ll make the ceremony, but I’m coming. 

Evan texted when they were around the corner from the hospital. 

Evan: They just got married. 

Evan: Tell me when you get here.

Tommy: Emergency entrance in a few minutes. 

Evan: I’m coming. 

“Go get your boy,” the firefighter with a nasty burn down his left arm said when the ambulance parked. 

The paramedic and the firefighter both made kissy noises at him. It was the result of a long night, they were all tired and loopy. Tommy didn’t even bother to respond. The driver just grinned at him when Tommy threw him a thank you. 

Tommy felt weary down to his bones. He was sore and a headache was brewing right behind his eyes. The time he’d been sitting for the drive had only tired him out more. He walked quickly, regardless, past the doors that slid open and then he saw him. Evan was in a soft looking blue hoodie. 

“Sorry I’m late. That fire was a beast,” Tommy began, ready to offer more explanations. 

Evan didn’t look upset. 

“So are you,” Evan said which Tommy didn’t even understand.  

The next thing Tommy knew was Evan’s hand on his shoulder, climbing to his neck and his lips pressing insistently on his. Tommy fell into it, he kissed back, unable to keep a moan from getting buried between their lips as he pulled Evan closer by the waist, losing himself entirely to Evan and not quite believing that this had been his welcome. The first kiss, the one that Tommy had replayed in his mind too many times to count, it had been soft and sweet and lovely, but this was…it was mind-melting. It was wet and messy and hot…so so hot. 

It was only when the doors opened behind them again, that they both realized where they were. The blush on Evan’s face was partially hidden by the soot that had got on him and Tommy cracked up into a laugh. 

“What?” Evan asked, smiling still. 

“You’re covered in soot.” 

Evan touched his face and brought his fingers down, rubbing them together. “I’m used to it,” he said and then, narrowed his eyes on Tommy. “Wait, why are you covered in soot?” 

“Wound up helping on the ground.”

He was glad that Evan didn’t question it or ask for an explanation like someone else might. Tommy was exhausted and he was feeling it more and more, but he let Evan lead him further into the hospital. 

“You’re not gonna clean up first?” he asked, conscious of what it would look like. 

Evan just shot him a grin. If anything, it made the soot even more obvious. “Nah. There’s cake. Come on.” 

Tommy was too tired to do anything to stop Evan. Then again it was his face even if it was Tommy’s soot. 

Chimney’s room was full of people. Too many for him to take in at once, so he focused on the newly weds. Chimney was propped up in the hospital bed with his new wife. Their very adorable daughter — Evan’s niece — at the foot of the bed. 

Evan cleared his throat. “Hey,” he said, “look who almost made it.” 

“Congratulations you two,” Tommy said. “I’m sorry I missed the ceremony.” 

He could see it on Chimney’s face, the toll of the day and yet the happiness that managed to still shine through. He did look between him and Buck a few times. Tommy caught Eddie’s gaze too and saw that Eddie was fighting to hold in laughter probably at some attempt at being supportive. Evan was never going to live this down. 

“Looks like you were…busy,” Chim said. 

“Cake?” Evan asked. He was simply amazing. 

Tommy was by his own admonition, confident. He hadn’t always been, and there were still certainly things that made him unsure and nervous. When he first realized that Evan was completely new to liking men, he’d assumed that it would take time for Evan to come to terms with it and to come out and to be ready for acting on it. He’d wanted to fully remove himself from the equation so that Evan wasn’t pressured into more than he was ready for. Maybe Evan just processed things at a speed Tommy wasn’t used to, or he was actually far more prepared than Tommy had expected. 

Evan brought two plates with cake over and their fingers brushed as Tommy grabbed his. He saw Hen and Karen looking at them and Hen gave him a nod that looked more proud than anything else. Another couple was staring, they were older and if Tommy hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the resemblance and put it together at once. It took him until he saw them interacting with Evan’s niece. Her grandparents — Evan’s parents. 

He focused on eating cake, too tired for anything else. It was sweet and far tastier than anything he’d had to eat all day. Evan kept close to his side, only leaving for a few minutes to speak to Christopher before he was back, taking his empty plate and getting rid of it before returning, this time stepping even closer to him. 

Tommy was aware that he was covered in soot and ash and sweat and that he probably smelled like smoke and burning trees. As much as he wanted a shower, he wanted a bed more. 

“We can leave after pictures,” Evan whispered to him as Karen started taking pictures of Maddie and Chim. 

Tommy leaned his shoulder on the doorway watching the different combinations. It didn’t take very long and then he saw Evan hugging his sister and then Chim before heading his way. He didn’t go to his parents, but he saw him share a smile with Hen and Bobby gave his shoulder a squeeze. It was clear who Evan’s family was. 

“Thank you for coming, Tommy,” Maddie said, loud enough for him to hear it at the door. 

Tommy gave her a nod and he waved at the room as he walked out with Evan. Tommy didn’t know if he was the one to reach out or if it was Evan, but at some point, Evan’s hand found its way into his. 

“Did you drive here?” Evan asked. 

“Caught a ride on an ambulance.” 

“Okay. Good. So we won’t have to come back and get your car.”

Evan got him to his car and Tommy was surprised when Evan actually opened the passenger door for him and then closed it after Tommy got in before rounding the car and getting in. 

“Your place?” Evan asked.

“Please.” 

Evan chuckled. “I’m going to need your address.” 

Tommy just pulled out his phone and opened google maps and hit home before handing his phone over. He put his seatbelt on and then leaned against the door, trying to fight off the sleep that threatened to take him. 

“Rest,” he heard Evan say and then felt the touch of a hand in his hair and cheek. 

When the car started moving, he sighed and let his eyes close fully. The next thing Tommy knew, he felt hands cupping his chin and thumbs brushing his cheeks. 

“Tommy. Tommy. We’re here, Tommy.” 

He blinked awake and felt all of it hit him again. The headache that was starting earlier was full blown. He was sore and tired and his eyes literally stung, too dry and eyelids too heavy to keep open. It took everything in him to get out of the car and he stumbled once his feet hit the ground. 

“Seriously, how long have you gone without sleep?”

Tommy heard the question, but he didn’t process it. 

“That long,” Evan said and there was something unreadable on his face. “Keys?” Evan asked. 

Back at Harbor, he realized and groaned until he remembered the flower pot. After two instances of having to break into his own house and having to replace a lock in the one instance and a door in the other, Tommy had figured out he needed a hidden spare key. He had a fake rock in the flower pot. He pointed it out to Evan who dealt with taking it out without damaging the flowers and then opening the door. 

For some reason, he didn’t know why he’d expected Evan to just leave him there once he’d made it inside. He wasn’t exactly fit to be company, not when all he really needed was to crawl into bed, the ash and soot and sweat to be dealt with when he woke. 

Evan walked inside with him, though, and stopped him when he tried to walk further in. 

“First you’re getting all this gear off,” Evan said. 

Tommy grunted. He tried to fight his jacket off, but it didn’t want to budge. Evan’s hands were deft as they helped to pull the whole thing off, dropping it right in the entryway. Tommy fumbled with the pants, but Evan pulled each suspender off his shoulders, his hands soft and careful and then the pants were pooling at his feet. Evan knelt and helped with his shoes and then his pants. He was down to just his base layer and Tommy could have just crawled into bed just like that. Evan had other ideas. 

Tommy found himself in his bathroom. Evan seemed to have no problems undressing him and Tommy was too tired, even when he was down to just underwear. All of it was a bit of a blur, but later he would remember how nice it felt to have someone else wash his hair, or how he’d had more than cold tile to lean on while soap washed away everything. 

He remembered the feel of a towel on his skin and the light touch of a hand on his bare back and then how it felt to get into his bed, the sheets clean and nice and cool. He remembered a kiss on his forehead and a hand that he grabbed onto and a warm body that contrasted nicely to the cool sheets. 

Tommy woke up slowly, aware that he was in his bed, but that he wasn’t alone and that there was too much light coming from the windows where the shades hadn’t been drawn. His mind supplied very little in explanation for why he would have forgotten his shades and even less about why he wasn’t alone. His eyelids were too heavy to open, and he felt stiff and more than a little sore.

“Sleep,” Evan said. “It’s early, still.” 

Evan. Evan was in his bed. His back to Tommy’s front, and his hand on the arm Tommy had around him, fingers gently running over his forearm to his hand. 

He drifted, not fully asleep, but certainly not awake. Fell back asleep. 

A while later, he woke alone. He’d been on his side, but he dropped onto his back, blinking at the ceiling. It felt like a dream. A kiss at the entrance to a hospital and Chim getting married in a hospital room. Evan in his shower. 

Wait…Evan in his shower?

The hospital? 

He heard footsteps and as he started to sit up, Evan walked in. He brought a bottle of water and a plate with toast and eggs and potatoes. Tommy’s stomach growled. Evan chuckled and wait, was Evan wearing one of his shirts? 

“Hungry?” Evan asked. “You slept for almost ten hours.” 

He’d probably needed it. Didn’t keep him from being quite a bit groggy. Tommy watched Evan as he set the plate down on Tommy’s bedside table. He handed him the water, though, and Tommy hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. 

As he was drinking, one thing came to him. 

“Evan, did you kiss me in the middle of a hospital?” 

Evan’s face went pink. “It wasn’t the middle. More like by the entrance.” 

“Oh.”

“Eat up,” Evan said. “It’s gonna get cold.” 

Tommy took the plate when Evan handed it to him. His first bite of toast made him groan. When he wiped crumbs off his chin, he stopped. Chin. Soot. 

“Soot,” he said.

Evan just laughed. “There’s pictures, don’t worry. Just eat. And then I’ll explain and we can be lazy for the rest of the day. I wasn’t sure if you’d want coffee? I still don’t know how you take it.” 

Tommy chuckled. “No. No coffee.” 

“Okay. But I’ll get you more water, then. Fruit?” 

“Sure, Evan.” 

Tommy didn’t know what to expect. He ate his breakfast with gusto, was glad when Evan reappeared with what appeared to be a bowl of cut up fruit that Tommy wasn’t entirely sure had been in his kitchen and a few bottles of water. And yes, it was definitely Tommy’s shirt.

“Last night—”

“We were both very tired, and you were very sooty and I know from experience you don’t want to go to bed like that. I’m sorry if I overstepped, but I don’t know that you wouldn’t have fallen asleep in your shower. How are you feeling today?” 

“I’m fine. Thank you, Evan. You didn’t overstep.” 

“Good. We’re both off today so unless you want to be alone…how about a movie?” 

It wasn’t that he hadn’t ever had other partners that cared about him — it was just that Evan did it differently. Like he was trying to find Tommy’s boundaries and electing to respect them despite how much he’d already done the night before and despite staying with Tommy and sleeping in his bed. 

“A movie sounds great,” Tommy said. 

It was much later, after they watched a few movies and Evan ordered them a pizza that he had the thought to check his phone. A lot had come back to him, including the litany of texts he’d received from a drunk Evan and Eddie. He found the voicemail he’d put off listening to and put it on speaker before hitting play while Evan was in the bathroom. 

Music came through first. Eddie’s voice yelling something and then Evan. 

“I like you so so so so much, Tommy. Soooo much.”

“Calling your boyfriend, Buck? Buck? Everyone, Buck has a boyfriend!” The sound of something breaking and then, Eddie again. “His name is Tommy! Say hi to Tommy!” 

A chorus of “hi, Tommy!” shouted by what could only be some kind of drunk crowd. 

“You’re…you’re like a guy…a guy’s guy. Strong. Want to kiss you again and hold your hand. Eddie…Eddie, did you know he has really nice hair? And a cleft chin?”

“Shhhh, Buck’s on phone with boyfriend,” Eddie’s voice came through. 

“Miss you,” Evan said. “Eddie, I’m gonna kiss him.” 

Eddie laughing. “Kiss him!” 

“Like kiss him kiss him with tongue and…and—”

More shouts and then the voicemail cut off. 

Tommy found Evan, face buried in his hands, standing in the doorway.  

“Hey, you did say you were going to kiss me,” Tommy said. “And for the record, I like you so so so so much too.” 

Evan rushed back to Tommy’s bed, crawling from the foot to where Tommy lay. Earlier they’d gotten up to make it up, but they’d been lounging atop the covers in a way that Tommy very rarely did. Evan was on his knees and he leaned over and reached for his face, thumb ending right over the cleft on Tommy’s chin and though he took a moment to stare down at Tommy, it didn’t take long before he was leaning down and they were kissing. Tommy pulled him closer, bringing him down so Buck’s weight rested half on Tommy. Evan hummed into it and when the kiss broke, Evan dropped his head to Tommy’s shoulder. 

“I really do,” Evan said, turning his face so he wasn’t speaking into Tommy’s shirt. 

“What?” 

“Like you.” 

[succubusonthedoorstep]

ArtTeacher! Geto x Fem Reader (Part Two!)

Warnings? Explicit Language and Smut, sir kink, choking, breeding kink, possessiveness, reader is inexperienced.

2.5 Word Count. Read Part One Here!

Author's Notes? finally uploading this <3 send requests and hcs, while i still work on longer fics mwah

ArtTeacher! Geto’s yawn echoes throughout his empty classroom- the lights flickering to life a beat late. The room smelled of paint and morning air as the windows were left open from the day before. 

To say the least, the room was a mess. The freshman class seemed to have the cleaning habits of toddlers. He rarely even came in at this time, but he made an exception for you. 

The previous day, late into Saturday night, you texted Geto about coming in early for a head start on your new project. He assumed you must’ve gotten his number from the school website, while yours was already saved in his phone. He felt his ears go hot as the next text came in.

(Name:) i’d love to get your feedback on it too!

He glanced at the clock that read eight am- an hour Geto usually spent out on a jog or still in bed because the weekend allowed him. He’d prefer your company over breakfast or coffee, but he’d settle for class with no way to comfortably bring a date up.

He spent the next few minutes obsessing over the state of his classroom. During the week it served as the beginner’s art course and they often left it in disarray. Geto had to start locking up the resources and completed works from his class, as they often went missing.

But with no time for him to worry about it, Geto began setting up your workstation. You’d be here any minute and he didn’t want you to waste your time doing something he could’ve started. All of your time should be dedicated to your art.

The soft knock at the door signaled your arrival, and Geto felt his heart drop in his chest. He sets down clean brushes at your easel before making his way over to the door and opening it for you.

Looking down, his eyes gravitated to the sundress you must’ve worn for him. Making his way down, your hard nipples poked through the thinness of the cloth and Geto’s mouth watered. He wrote it off, as he hadn’t had breakfast and you looked good enough to eat. If he had you how he wanted, you’d be spread across his desk with your toes in his mouth and his fingers in your cunt. 

“I brought you coffee, sir! I wasn’t sure how you’d like it, so I got the good sugar and cream from the cafe,” Bright as always, you gave him a sweet smile and entered the class to set the cups down. “I really appreciate you letting me come in early.”

Firmly shutting the door behind him, Geto watched your ass in the dress as you set your bag down to pull out packets of sugar and cream. “It’s not a problem…” He lost what else he had on his tongue, enamored by your thinking of him. 

“Aw, and you got me all set up?” You asked, gathering the ends of your dress to sit on the cushioned chair. “Where’s yours?”

“My what?” He asked, picking up a lidded cup from the on-campus cafe. 

“Your chair?” You say it like it’s the most obvious thing. With your half-done canvas in front of you, Geto handed you a palette while he sipped the caffeinated drink. While he’d love to keep you company as he watched you do his favorite activity, the room was trashed. He’d think those damn freshmen were doing this on purpose, keeping him from you.

Grabbing a chair and pulling it beside yours, Geto looked at you pointedly. “I’ll check on you in a minute; I just have to do this before my next class,” he explained. The (unintentional) doe eyes you gave him didn’t work- only creating thoughts of those same eyes filling with tears as he face-fucked you.

A playlist Geto selected before you came in tuned out the sounds of him tossing empty bottles into the trash and sweeping the floor. The jazzy mix of melodies helped the both of you at your tasks- you’d begun the next step in your art process, and Geto got to sneak peeks at your cute face scrunched up in concentration. 

Cleaning the room was soon insignificant; reduced from an hour of work for anyone else to 30 minutes for him. 

Rolling up his sleeves he finished wiping down a few more easels before lowering the volume and taking his seat next to you. The black coffee had done its job, that’s for sure. 

“Do you like it?” You asked, setting your brush into a cup of water. His mouth was set in a hard line as he analyzed the brushstrokes and tones of color you’d created. He wasn’t sure before this how proficient you were before, but now there was no doubt in his mind. 

“It’s beautiful,” he began, leaning back into his chair and making his legs comfortable before scooting closer to your easel. “But, let me show you something. Pick up your brush.”

You obeyed, taking your brush in your hand and standing from your chair at the flick of his chin. Large, warm hands rested on your waist as he guided you back into his lap. With your palette in one hand and your waist in the other, Geto could watch you work from a much better angle.

“A-Are you sure this will help? I don’t wanna block your vision…”

“You won’t,” He simply said, already feeling his cock growing in his pants. The curve of your lower back into your perfect ass had Geto’s hand dangerously low on your hips. “Watching you from here allows me to see from your perspective. Are you uncomfortable?”

“No, sir.”

“Then don’t allow me to delay you any longer,” he concluded, setting you on his clothed cock and watching you work. You could feel his eyes on your canvas, examining the vulnerability you expressed through your medium. Adjusting yourself on his lap, Geto let out a barely audible groan at the friction.

So you continued, despite the growing heat between your legs. When you’d lean forward to dip your brush into water, Geto’s thick bulge would grind deliciously into your cunt. You probably looked so slutty, you thought, sitting in your teacher’s lap like this. 

Idly whining your waist in Geto’s lap was just pleasurable enough to continue working, until he couldn’t take anymore. 

“Wait, (Name). Like this,” The hand on your waist guided you back and forth over his dick print. You weren’t sure how this could help with your art, but he was the expert, right?

At least he sounded pleased. The light breathing became heavier and the hand on your hip lost its innocence. Thick fingers dug into your ass, slowly lifting the thin fabric of your dress until Geto revealed your cute light pink thong. The brush you held between your fingers trembled from the bliss of finally having him beneath you.

Next came the clinking of Geto’s belt unbuckling and hitting the floor, your panties not following long after. He had set the palette down in favor of pulling down the front of your dress to pinch and flick at your nipples.

“You planned this, didn’t you?” He demanded, slapping your ass and humming in appreciation at your desperate whimpers. The paintbrush slipped from your fingers and landed at your feet. “Not your first time seducing an older man?” 

“S-Seducing?!” You exclaimed, shifting to sit on his thigh and catch his lust-filled gaze. His lips were hovering over yours, maintaining eye contact as he took your hand and guided it over the bulge in his underwear. Watching your expression, Geto felt your inexperienced fingers stumble and stutter over the length of his cock. He could see the bashfulness seep in until you broke eye contact and pressed your face onto his.

Geto, completely enthralled, gave in to the amateur kiss without any doubts. Easily overcoming you, he guided your lips to smooth over his and pick up the rhythm of kissing. The room filled with hums of approval and the sounds of light smacking from your tongues tasting each other.

“Seducing,” he confirmed, moving his hand from yours to the center of your legs. Finding your clit immediately, he ran a digit up and down your slit. “With your cunt dripping all over my finger. Did you plan this?”

It was a rhetorical question, you assumed because he didn’t pull away from your lips to allow you to answer. Instead, he worked his middle finger in slow circles over your clit, drinking in the sweet moans you gave to him. When you dug your nails into his shirt, all decorum snapped in Geto. Picking you up bridal style, he effortlessly carried you to his desk and laid you down, slotted between your legs. 

Feasting your eyes on Geto undressing was a delicacy you didn’t know you needed. He first started with his shirt, loosening button after button and exposing his broad chest. You resisted the urge to sit up and touch, knowing from the look in his eye that he’d disapprove.

“First time seeing a man up close?” He inquired, shedding the thin fabric from his shoulders. Long fingers trailed to his loosened slacks, awaiting your answer.

“Yes sir,” you nearly moaned, drinking in his obvious arousal. The slacks he wore slipped from his hips, boxers following not long after. 

His dick was eight inches of perfection. The trail under his belly button led down to neatly trimmed hair, a pretty sight if you had ever seen one. 

He gave himself a few languid strokes, keeping his eyes on yours as he lifted your leg over his shoulder.

“I’m assuming it’s your first time,” he hummed, nudging your other leg open slightly. “So I can’t be too rough with you, hm?” His lips gave your ankle a few slow, wet kisses before he started running the length of his cock up and down your slit. 

You shivered, watching his cock thoroughly coat itself in your wetness. Geto’s hips rolled against yours, nudging your clit with every push he gave. 

“She’s greedy, baby. Look how she’s twitching under me.” His lusty voice deepened as he slapped your cunt with his heavy cock. You gasped at the contact and tightened your grip on the desk, hopes of receiving Geto’s mercy flying out of the window… The sight of your cunt gushing for him so prettily had him completely narrow-minded. 

With the tip of his cock pressed to your twitching hole, Geto admires his best work yet. He thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful, but being sprawled out on his desk with smeared lip gloss and desperate tears in your eyes proved him wrong. 

“Be good,” He cooed, giving your hip an affectionate squeeze. Geto pressed and split you open on his length, watching your mouth open wider the deeper he slid into you. 

Any mere passerby could incidentally stroll by the isolated classroom, peek in, and find the usually quiet teacher railing his newest student. They’d hear the crescendo of moans echoing through the room (and in turn the halls) and know how much your sensei wanted you. 

Your legs settled on Geto’s rolling hips, the steady rhythm he set shaking the desk with each thrust. One hand remained firmly on your hip, while the other was placed affectionately on your neck. 

“Oh, sir,” you encouraged, his eyes holding yours. “Please, just a little tighter?” Taking a hand from the desk, you placed it delicately on his wrist and pressed his hand harder. Geto had to break eye contact to not cum too early, giving you a quick peck on your lips and tightening his grip on your throat. 

“You ask so nicely; how could I deny you?” His lips brushed yours mercifully, maintaining the harsh strokes that had your release creeping up on you. 

The hand he set on your hip pulled your legs around his waist, a satisfied hmph coming from his throat when you locked your ankles together. 

“So demanding, baby,” he cooed as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. “If I didn’t know better, I'd think you’d done this before.”

His hand tightened at the insinuation, but only briefly. You were just too cute under him, writhing with the pleasure only Geto could grant you. His silky hair slipped from the elastic he loosely had tied, pathetically landing on the floor by his feet.

“Eyes here, princess.” His hand left your throat to take your chin in his fingers and make you look at him. His hair was draped over his shoulders and he had the pinkest tint to his cheeks. Geto wanted you to see; he was just as ruined as you were. 

“You gonna cum?” He asked, not allowing you to answer. His hips met yours in a quick snap, and you watched a sick grin spread across Geto’s cheeks as your face contorted with pleasure.

Your cunt gushed around him, your wetness coating the art teacher’s legs and causing him to chuckle. He released your neck to prop himself up onto the desk, pushing your legs up and settling himself into a mating press. The hand on your neck trailed down in favor of playing with your clit.

“Watch me,” He demanded, giving you a quick slap on your pussy. “We’ll paint the prettiest picture of this.” 

Keeping your eyes on where you connected, Geto painstakingly fucked you with slow, deliberate thrusts. Holding your gaze where he wanted it through the bliss he was giving proved almost too big a task. Every time your eyes threatened to roll back in pleasure, he’d give your clit an affectionate rub. 

“You’re mine, you know that?” He looked so primal, hair shadowing his face as he watched you nod your head furiously. “My pretty little wife. How clichè is it that we met in class?”

His newest name for you went straight to your cunt, both of your imaginations running wild with thoughts of domesticity and late nights of lovemaking. You couldn’t hold on much longer; before long the thumb Geto worked over your clit and had you squirting on his cock. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths as he continued fucking you, mumbling praise as his own orgasm rushed through him.

Geto couldn’t resist giving your cunt a few final sharp thrusts as he painted your walls white. The muscles in his arms flexed, his eyes shut tightly and he let out the prettiest moan under his breath. The light sheen of sweat glistened under the dull schoolhouse lights, making the thought of being Geto’s wife impossibly more digestible. 

“Ah, I’m surprised the desk held up,” He sighed, slowly pulling out of you. Warm cum dripped from your hole, only to be scooped back up and pushed back in even deeper.

“Can’t let it go to waste. We’ll try as many times as we need to, hopefully at mines next time?” He climbed off the desk and offered you a hand and a kiss on the forehead.

“I love to,” you stood on shaky legs, leaning on the desk for support.

With his cum running down your leg and his hand mark imprinted on your neck, ArtTeacher!Geto impatiently waits for the portrait he’ll paint of you pregnant. 

like, comment, and reblog!

© succubusonthedoorstep2023. all rights reserved. please do not copy, repost, steal, or translate my work.

[04thz]

Migraines - an Analogical oneshot

Logan's had issues with migraines for a long time, but never told the other sides about it. During a particularly bad one, Virgil comes to check on him.

Mild TW for mentioned vomit/throwing up - this is based on my own experience with migraines, and I basically always end up puking so Logan does now too lmao

Word count: 2444

Also! Just a quick FYI, I have an AO3 now! This one and the two NaruMitsu fics I made recently have been posted there. Will potentially move my older fics there as well, so in case anyone wants to read more of my writing without having to scroll through the wall of random that is my blog, I am 04thz on there as well. Anyways, enjoy the fluff lol

It was just one of those days. Hardly the first Logan had dealt with, but they never got any easier. He squeezed his eyes shut as another jolt of pain went through his skull and rolled over in bed to face the wall, where less of the light creeping in under the door could reach him. The movement caused a swell of nausea, and he forced himself to take a few deep breaths to suppress the urge to vomit, pulling the marine blue duvet up to further cover himself. 

God, he hated migraines. Tension headaches weren’t all that uncommon for the logical side, nor were caffeine headaches, but those were usually manageable with water and a couple painkillers, and if nothing else he could at least work through the more subdued pain. Whenever he felt a migraine coming on, that was it for the rest of the day, he would most likely not be getting anything else done until it was over. If he was lucky, the pain would be gone within a few hours and/or after a quick nap, but sometimes – like today – he’d wake up with a dull ache radiating out from one or both temples, which would steadily worsen over the course of the day, until it felt like one side of his head was being repeatedly wacked with a sledgehammer. And as if the throbbing pain weren’t bad enough, it was more often than not accompanied by crippling sensitivity to both light and sound, full-body chills, and such intense nausea it was nearly impossible to move without throwing up.  

Logan never told any of the other sides about his problem. Not only did he not want to appear weak, but also as long as he kept up with his work it was unlikely they’d think it odd that he'd stay couped up in his room for a day or two every once in a while; that was hardly unusual for him anyhow. Besides, it’s not like they could help with his predicament, actually there was all likelihood they’d make it worse. When he felt the aura of an oncoming migraine, he’d simply excuse himself from any social situation and bunker down in his room with a water bottle, painkillers, and a large bucket, in case he’d fail to quash the relentless waves of nausea. This time there hadn’t been any social situations to excuse himself from; he never even made it out of bed, much less out of the room. After trying and failing to go back to sleep to avoid the issue all together, he’d simply taken a pill and steeled himself for the dreadful day ahead.  

He’d managed to eat a couple bites of the breakfast he summoned for himself, and even done some reading before the gnawing ache became too intense to focus on anything else. But when it came time for lunch, he’d barely gotten the first mouthful down before it violently came back up, along with his breakfast. With throat burning and eyes running, Logan was forced to admit defeat, and he’d spent the next few hours subsisting on small sips of water, while trying to block out what little light seeped into the room and willing the day to just be over already.  

It was in this state that Virgil found him that afternoon. The alarm clock on Logan’s nightstand read 17:15 when he heard soft footsteps in the corridor outside. The three quick knocks on the door weren’t loud, but nonetheless agonizing, and Logan had to grit his teeth to suppress a pitiful whimper that threatened to escape his still sore throat.  

“L? You in there?” 

Logan sighed and tried his best to keep his voice steady. 

“Yes, Virge, I’m here. What is it?” 

The brief reply had sounded more abrasive than intended, and a minute passed in silence before a hesitant question came through. 

“Can I come in?” 

Logan took a deep breath and weighed for and against before turning back towards the door. 

“Yes, you may, just... please keep your voice down.” 

The door was slowly pushed open and Logan had to put his hands up to cover his eyes as the room was suddenly illuminated by the bright light spilling in from the hallway. Virgil stepped into the room, hands buried deeply in the pockets of his hoodie and shoulders pulled up; Logan’s blunt manner had clearly put him a bit on edge. Logan pressed his hands against his face. 

“Shut the door, please...” 

Virgil used his foot to push the door shut and Logan sighed with relief as the room was once again shrouded in blissful darkness. He lowered his hands and pulled the covers tighter around himself. Virgil leaned against the door, looking at him uncertainly as his eyes quickly adjusted to the dark. 

“Everything okay? Haven’t heard from you all day, and you don’t look so good.”, he said quietly. 

‘Not so good’ was rather an understatement. Logan had caught glances of himself in mirrors on better days and knew all too well he must look terrible; pale and shivering, hair a mess, eyes hazy, these kinds of days typically made him look like he was half-way to the grave. Not to mention his pajamas – consisting of indigo flannel bottoms and an old, faded Doctor Who t-shirt – were in desperate need of a wash. Reluctantly he reached for his glasses, sliding them on and looking at Virgil tiredly, though he could hardly make out more than a silhouette. 

“I have a migraine. Nothing to worry about, just... highly unpleasant.” 

The last two words came out as a sigh. Virgil tilted his head, taking a step towards the bed. 

“Oh, I see.” 

He slowly made his way over, pausing for a second and wrinkling his nose as he was hit by the rancid smell from the bucket on the floor. He looked at Logan, who wearily motioned for him to sit down on the bed. Virgil carefully sat down at the edge of the bed and started fidgeting with the drawstrings on his hoodie. They sat in silence for a while, until Virgil started finding it intolerable and softly spoke up. 

“Do you uh... need anything? Like an ice pack or something?” 

Logan went to decline the offer, mostly wanting to be left alone, but stopped himself. 

“That... would be great actually.” 

Virgil nodded, summoning an ice pack and a small towel, handing them to Logan. 

“Thank you, Virgil.” 

He gingerly placed his glasses back on the nightstand before laying the towel over his forehead and placing the ice pack on the side of his head that was throbbing the worst. He exhaled slowly, finally feeling some blessed relief as the chill of the ice somewhat dulled the burning pain. Virgil watched him, a small smile creeping onto his face. 

“Did that help?” 

Logan nodded ever so slightly, gently shutting his eyes underneath the towel. 

“Yes, thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

Virgil looked around, having no problem seeing in the very faint light from the door, though he’d know the room like the back of his hand even if he couldn’t see it. Out of all the other sides’ rooms, Logan’s was probably the one the anxious side had spent the most time in. If he’d had a nightmare or just couldn’t sleep, it wasn’t unusual for him to make his way over, and Logan was typically happy enough to let him in. For all he harped on about circadian rhythms and healthy sleep schedules, it was not uncommon to find the logical side sitting by his desk or reading late into the night. Sometimes, if he was feeling especially anxious, like after a bad nightmare, Virgil would ask Logan to read aloud to him from whatever book he was currently working his way through. Many nights he’d fallen asleep listening to various detective stories and scientific theories, curled up under the large, galaxy print blanket on Logan’s bed. Logan was a constant, a steady presence in Virgil’s life, even more so than the other sides, and seeing the normally - at least outwardly- unshakeable man in his current state was honestly a bit unnerving.  

“... Do you get migraines like this often?” Virgil asked softly, turning to look at Logan’s half-covered face. 

“Once or twice a month at most. They aren’t always this bad.” Logan replied tiredly. 

The anxious side chuckled quietly, mostly to himself. 

“Just bad luck today huh?” 

He could just about make out the slight movement of Logan furrowing his brows under the towel. 

“Wouldn’t call it ‘bad luck’ exactly. I have admittedly exceeded my own limitations by quite a large margin over the past couple weeks, it’s hardly surprising it would end like this.”   

Logan wasn’t sure if it was the pain, the drowsiness or just the fact that it happened to be Virgil sitting on the bed with him that made him inclined to share “unfavorable” information like that so freely, but he had to confess it was rather nice to not keep it all to himself for once. He was aware he was working on an unsustainable schedule, despite his best efforts to keep Thomas and his fellow sides from doing the same, and it felt – yes, felt – good to say so out loud. Like giving the thought some sort of external presence was a step in the right direction towards amending the issue. Virgil returned to fidgeting with his hoodie strings, watching Logan’s chest slowly rise and fall for what seemed like an eternally long minute before breaking the silence: 

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself?” he said, concern apparent in his voice.  

Logan sighed and moved the ice pack slightly to the left, before he let his hand fall to his side 

“I suppose not, no. There’s been so much work to do lately, everything else sort of got left by the wayside, so to speak.” 

“L, you can’t do that. You have needs too, you can’t just work and work and ignore them. That’s not healthy.” 

Virgil moved a bit closer to Logan, turning his body so his knee just barely touched Logan’s outer calf. The latter shifted slightly, somewhat unused to physical contact of any sort.  

“I know that, Virge. I am trying to find a better balance, but it’s easier said than done.” 

Virgil placed a hand on Logan’s knee, resting it lightly so that the other man may move away from his touch if he so pleased. Logan didn’t move his leg away, instead he slowly lifted a corner of the towel off his face, looking at Virgil questioningly, though the anxious side knew he probably couldn’t actually see him in the dark and without his glasses. Virgil bit his lip softly and ran the fingers of his free hand through his bangs.  

“I care about you, Logan. I know you hate the feelingsy stuff and all, but I really care about you, and I don’t want you pushing yourself like that. I’m worried about you, dude.” 

Logan drew in a breath, slightly taken aback. Virgil usually wasn’t much more forward about this sort of thing than himself. And that word; Worried. Virgil was worried about him. He noticed that Logan didn’t leave his room that day, he cared enough to come check on him and at least attempt to help with his splitting headache. None of the others typically even noticed he wasn’t present unless it happened to be for an extended period of time. As much as he hated to admit it, that hurt, and the fact that Virgil had sought him out and expressed concern for his wellbeing meant more to him than he knew how to properly verbalize.  

“Thank you, Virgil. I... appreciate that.” was all he could muster up through suddenly knotted vocal cords. 

Virgil gently rubbed Logan’s knee. There was, as always, an implicit understanding between them. Even if Logan didn’t know how to say it, Virgil understood that his concern was important to him. 

“I mean it. Just... I’m here for you, okay? You can always talk to me if something’s going on.” 

He was half expecting the conversation to be over at that point, and was just about to leave Logan alone to sleep off his headache, when the logical side spoke up again: 

“Virge? Could you maybe... read to me?” 

Virgil stopped in the middle of getting up, sinking back down on the mattress. Logan shifted the towel back over his eyes and continued: 

“I was reading Murder on the Orient Express earlier, but I didn’t get past the first few chapters before my migraine got the better of me.” 

Virgil smirked playfully. 

“Again? Don’t you have it memorized by now?” 

Logan scoffed, rolling his eyes despite the agony it caused. 

“I am too tired for musical references right now.” 

“Sorry, couldn’t resist.” 

Virgil snickered and reached for the book on the nightstand.  

“Can I lie down?” 

Logan nodded ever so slightly, and Virgil carefully nestled himself in between him and the wall, leafing through the book until he came across the ornate bookmark Roman had gotten for Logan’s appreciation day a few years previous. He smiled; half convinced Logan would have gotten rid of it by now. He cleared his throat and began reading. Though he wasn’t as big a fan as Logan, Virgil did enjoy Agatha Christie’s writing, having heard both Murder on the Orient Express and a couple of her other books read out multiple times, and he did find some pleasure in being able to return the favor after being read to restful sleep so many times. A few chapters in, he glanced over at Logan and noticed that he’d drifted off. He put the bookmark in place and carefully returned the book to its spot on the nightstand before removing the thawing ice pack and wrapping it up in the towel. Propping himself up on his elbow, Virgil watched his companion’s relaxed face with an adoring smile, and soon found himself dozing off to the slow, almost hypnotic rhythm of his breathing.  

When Logan woke up in the morning, finally free of the excruciating migraine, and found Virgil sleeping with his hand resting on Logan’s chest, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. Careful not to wake the other man, he got out of bed and put on his glasses. Before leaving for a much-needed shower, he made sure to tuck Virgil in properly and – much to his own surprise – gently stroked his cheek with the back of his hand. Virgil smiled contently in his sleep, and Logan quietly left the room with a warm, pleasant feeling in his chest.  

[xxlady-lunaxx]

Obanai had a maddening habit of waking up at 2 a.m. every night. There seemed no explanation for this—not even insomnia, given that he could sleep fine… until 2 a.m. Though Obanai appeared to be getting enough sleep every day anyway, it was still a cause of annoyance on Giyuu’s side. Mostly because he was a light sleeper and almost always awoke when Obanai made his nightly departure of the bed and tiptoed out the room. Typically, Giyuu managed to fall back asleep sometime later. But tonight was different. Tonight, he got up, too.

Obanai had left a couple minutes ago and Giyuu searched blindly around for him. He found him in the kitchen a moment later, and waited a beat. Obanai hadn’t realized he was awake, simply watching the microwave as it warmed up a mug with who knows what inside. Instead of trying to scare him, Giyuu padded inside without trying to be quiet. Once he noticed him, Obanai stood up (he’d been leaning against the counter) and looked at him curiously.

“Giyuu…? Did I wake you?” he asked. He moved to stand in front of him, gazing up.

Giyuu shrugged, brushing away the question in favor of patting Obanai’s hair down. “Can’t sleep again?”

“Oh.” Obanai seemed mildly embarrassed. “You’ve noticed?”

“It’s not that hard to tell. You’re usually right up against me when we sleep, so when you leave the absence is noticeable,” Giyuu explained. He planted a reassuring kiss to Obanai’s forehead as the microwave beeped. “What’s that?”

“Nothing. Hot chocolate,” Obanai hummed, retrieving the quite hot cup of chocolate milk, and holding it with both hands. He took a tentative sip, and then another when it was deemed at an alright temperature. “Want some?”

Giyuu shook his head. “It’ll keep me awake.”

“It doesn’t have caffeine, Giyuu.”

“Still.”

Obanai huffed but continued drinking it. “Your loss.”

Not really caring for it, Giyuu just watched him. They stood in silence for a long moment, words not needed just yet. It was dark, given the hour, and Giyuu was tired. He yawned once—and then again—rubbing his eyes.

“How are you not tired?” he asked, peering suspiciously at Obanai. “Are you sure that’s not caffeinated?”

“I’m sure,” Obanai insisted. “If you’re tired, go back to bed.”

“I wanna stay with you.”

But even Giyuu’s wish to remain with Obanai wasn’t enough for his fatigue, and after several attempts to stay upright, he admitted, grudgingly, that he should go to bed. He stayed one more minute, clinging to Obanai’s side and resting his chin on his head until Obanai insisted he went to sleep.

He trudged to the bedroom, sinking into the mattress. His body was quick to melt, his eyes drooping closed. He had barely any time to process anything before he promptly fell asleep.

The bed was mildly cold after both their absences, but, somewhere in Giyuu’s dreamland, he registered a sudden warmth.

Obanai crawled into the bed, slipping into Giyuu’s arms which closed instinctively around him, holding him. He struggled to bring the blankets up, bundling them up under the warmth. Giyuu seemed to relax further into the bed at that, and Obanai gazed at him with a smile playing on his lips. He should stop getting up at night if Giyuu was gonna start following him.

Gently, trying not to create too much disturbance, Obanai’s arms snaked around Giyuu’s torso. He buried himself into the embrace, deliberately steadying his breathing and closing his eyes.

“Goodnight, Giyuu,” he murmured, allowing the light pulls of sleep to tug him under.

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Schleppen

Chapter Sixteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam/Madison, Lee/Pam/Benny, Jesse/Cesar, Charlie/OFC, unnamed female character

Word Count: 2644

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, everyone is hungover, Dean steps in it, Sam is so done with their shit, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Dean didn’t sleep. Or if he did, it was in the last gasps of darkness and so short, he couldn’t feel its relief. Alcohol affects the REM cycle, so whoever taught him to have a drink before bed to help with his insomnia (John) was wrong. It was just one of the many things he’d learned in therapy. Dean found he had many things yet to unlearn.

No one who had stayed over was in any better shape when he got downstairs.

Bela and Trouble had bunkered down on the couch in the den, Charlie had claimed one of the bedrooms with a woodland elf, the other spare went to Pam and Lee, but Dean was pretty sure he had heard Benny through the walls, so maybe him too. The other girl Charlie brought along was on the floor curled around Jesse fruitlessly, because Cesar, who was sitting with his back to the end of the couch, still asleep, held his partner’s head in his lap. He wondered if Sam was already up and running until Madison came down the stairs in search of caffeine with a shirtless and rumpled Sam on her heels.

“Morning,” Dean said smugly to them both.

Madison met his gaze and tried not to blush, which Dean found oddly refreshing, while Sam just flipped him off and dove in for a cup of coffee before it was even done brewing.

They moved in hushed whispers, but the Winchesters’ words were doomed to carry with their baritone. After Madison admonished them for not having more to eat in their fridge, Dean stepped up and ordered a combo of both greasy and sweet options to be delivered with an impressive tip to the driver for their discretion.

Bela helped herself to Dean’s shower and some of his clothes. And if anyone had found it odd that they hadn’t slept together, no one was ballsy enough to mention it. Or maybe they were all just too hungover to care. 

He still hadn’t seen Pam and company emerge and he wondered if he was going to have to risk walking in on some alternative hangover cures. 

Luckily for everyone, the pounding on the front door for the food was enough to rouse the stragglers and beckon them back to civilization.

“Happy 2018 everybody!” Pam croaked with a shiteating grin on her face as she took in everyone’s subdued state.

She was met with lackluster replies, grumbles and a very sarcastic cheer from Charlie. She tutted at them and sauntered her way towards the jelly donuts.

As rough as he felt, Dean lived for mornings (or early afternoons) like this. His kitchen was filled with people he loved, sharing food and just existing together, safe and warm. It’s what being in a band was all about. He started another pot of coffee when Bela slinked over and hugged him from behind, resting her face between his shoulder blades.

“I’ll just have a nap right here, thanks,” she mumbled against his shirt.

“Oh yeah?” Dean peered down at her. “You know, you can take my bed if you’re still tired, not gonna rush anybody out today.”

“‘S too far,” Bela complained. “And I already showered, no sense delaying the inevitable.”

Dean turned in her arms, letting her rest against his chest instead. He rubbed her back and looked up when he felt someone watching him. You sat folded in on yourself on one of the tall chairs, looking as if you were going to puke all over the counter.

“You okay over there?” Dean asked, more alarm slipping into his voice than the jest he intended. He cleared his throat, but didn’t let go of Bela as she turned to look at who he was talking to.

Gaping at him like a deer caught in the headlights, you nodded. 

Dean reminded himself to breathe, feeling everything you were saying by the look in your eyes. He fucked up. But in that moment there was nothing he could say that would fix it. Bela was supposed to be his girl, it would be too obvious to step away from her now.

As much as he suddenly wanted distance, he held on tighter, like she was a shield against his feelings for you. And against the look of betrayal in your eyes.

“When do you want to leave— Y/N?” Bela broke through Dean’s silent spiraling and started making plans to get home.

“Lemme drive you guys— could use some fresh air,” Dean cut in before they could order a ride.

“Are you sure? I’m a little out of the way,” you asked, worried over being a burden or being trapped in a car with him, Dean couldn’t be sure.

“Positive, just say when, and I’ll get Baby all set to go,” Dean insisted.

Bela kissed Dean on the cheek and thanked him for a wonderful time, promising to text him her schedule later. She reached over the backseat to grab your hand, smiling mischievously, “another one for the books. See you at brunch?”

“If I can eat by then,” you muttered, smirking as she slid out of the car.

“Bye!” Bela called as she disappeared through the door from the garage into the kitchen.

Dean cleared his throat and leered at you in the rearview mirror.

“You gonna come up here or am I gonna have to call you Miss Daisy?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but you didn’t open your door.

“I can wait all day. If you think you can out- stubborn me–,”

“FINE!” you snapped, throwing open the door and almost slamming it into Bela’s car’s rear end. “Asshole.”

Dean tried not to laugh outright, but you were kind of adorable when you were pissed. Once you were situated in the passenger seat, purse and coat lumped on your lap and seat belt secured, Dean continued to wait.

“What?! We can go now.”

“Easy! I’m just adjusting my mirrors, don’t want to back into anything,” Dean added with an air of responsibility.

“You so were not,” you grumbled, huffing before leering at the sideview as Dean crawled out of Bela’s driveway.

It was going to be a long drive.

Once they were out of the canyon, Dean decided he was going to have to put some of those lessons from Missouri to use. “So— you wanna talk about it?”

You glared at him like he asked if you wanted to eat your jacket.

“Come on, I know you’re pissed. Let me have it,” Dean egged you on, okay, maybe he could have said that better.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you muttered, eyes on your hands.

“Really? You gonna pretend you’re not having a bitchfit right now?”

“Dean Henry Winchester, do not make me call Charlie and tell her you called me a bitch.” And just like that you were all in. “I cannot believe you right now.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, look, you can’t just go around kissing people and then shoving your relationship in their faces. It’s called mixed signals, asshole!”

“Oh, so you can call me an asshole, but I can’t call you names?!”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

Dean sighed, he was letting himself get defensive instead of focusing on what you were really saying. It suddenly felt like a horrible idea to have this conversation when neither of you could escape.

“I don’t know what relationship you’re talking about— the fake dating thing you roped me into?! Cuz that’s not real, that’s playing nice— for you!” Dean hadn’t realized how much he resented you for this whole set up, but now that the words were out of his mouth, things made a lot more sense.

“Bullshit,” you spat.

“You want me to ignore her, huh? Pretend she’s not there, in front of everybody this could hurt if it gets out that it’s all a lie?!”

You turned on him then, taking a deep breath as Dean made sure he wasn’t too distracted to drive. “Is it a lie?”

Dean looked back at the road and licked his lips. How much did you know? How much was it safe to tell you? How much of Bela’s life was private, even from you?

“What are you talking about?! Of course it’s a lie, an act, a ruse! You were the mastermind here, remember?!”

“You know what, Dean? I think the lady doth protest too much,” you said. “I think you know it was wrong to do what you did, but now you’re trying to pin this on me. When I only did it to cover your ass!”

“That is so not fair. I own my shit. What are you really pissed at here? Me in general? Me kissing you? Me hugging Bela? Me making your job harder? WHAT?!”

You groaned. “YES! Okay? YES!”

You stopped your tirade and looked at him and Dean felt you deflate as he glanced back onto the road ahead.

You started over, trying for calm, “you are inherently annoying, I think we both know that.”

Dean huffed. “Yeah, thanks.”

“No, listen. I knew this thing wasn’t going to be easy— for any of us. But it’s the best way to turn everything around. But— if you can’t do it anymore, if there’s something you need to tell me, I’ll understand. We’ll figure it out, okay? Just— just don’t lie to me, okay? I can’t fix things if I don’t have the whole story.”

Dean felt about two inches tall. He wiped his hand down his face and growled, pissed at himself and whatever you were fishing for. Because it was still all his fault. Somehow, he had gotten you home, he pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.

“I can do it, okay? This is on me. I’ll make it right. I’ll be on my best behavior, get us out on tour without a hitch. Make the label all the money and start to earn back everybody’s respect. I owe them all that much,” Dean promised to your suspicious face.

“Dean—”

“What?”

“Is there anything I should know? Seriously. I won’t be pissed. I just— feel like, like I’m out of the loop on this.”

“You were there all night. I think you got a good idea how things are going. Uh, what more can I say, you know? I’m sorry, though, for making you worry. Okay?” Dean ducked his head, making sure you were seeing him, eyes trying to make you see what he couldn’t say, but what he most definitely felt.

Maybe he hadn’t learned anything from Missouri at all. But he was still trying.

“If you’re sure— we’ll keep it going. We've still got over a month before we’re on the road, but it’s gonna go fast now. I just need you to be on your A game,” you said firmly, cementing it into the fabric of your shared reality.

Just keep carrying on.

Dean could do that. He had to.

“Sounds like a plan. And Trouble, do me a favor?” Dean leaned over, slipping into his charming self. “You gotta loosen up, okay? Get a hobby, get laid, just find somewhere to put all this shit you carry so it’s not weighing you down. Okay?”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, tossing the door open and crawling out. “Like it’s that easy. Happy New Year, Dean, drive safe.”

“Later.”

Dean waited until you made it into the house before starting the engine back up. He didn’t go home right away, instead he took a drive along the coast, letting his mind try and untangle the knot you’d just made by having that conversation. 

Six am came way too early the following morning and with it, Sam pounding on Dean’s door to get his ass downstairs and into the gym. Right, his New Year’s resolution and his fucking brother holding him to it. 

“Gotta piss, calm down Billy Blanks,” Dean groaned, rolling out of bed.

He did his business, changed into something he could move around in, and finally found some tennis shoes at the back of his closet.

By the time he made it into the part of their basement they had turned into a gym, Sam was already sweating with a jump rope warm up. 

“What?! I’m here aren’t I? It’s not that late,” Dean grumbled at Sam’s judgey face.

They worked out with little discussion, spotting each other when they moved onto weights. They hadn’t worked out the details of this new shared routine, but slowly Dean felt it falling into place. The strain of his muscles and the swelling of his lungs all reminded him to be present and mindful. To let his body take over building when his mind wanted to use it to punish.

After they had stretched and were winding down, Dean decided to tape up his hands and spend some time on their speed bag. But, of course, that drew Sam’s attention.

Anything that hinted at Cain or Alastair always did.

“What?”

Sam looked him over. “You good?”

Dean didn’t want to have a different version of the trainwreck conversation the day before. But Sam knew everything, more or less anyway. Dean didn’t look up from his task, mesmerized by how soft his knuckles had gotten recently.

“I kissed Trouble.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Sam laughed, actually, genuinely laughed at him. “How’d that go?”

Dean considered the act itself. “Well—- she didn’t hit me.”

Sam sat down on the end of the bench, settling in for the dirt. “Were you expecting her to?

Dean looked over and saw Sam was no longer teasing. “Could you blame her? Some guy like me? A fuck up with a history of diddling her friends?”

“Dean.”

“I know, I know. Believe in myself. I am worthy of love. I know, okay. Just… she didn’t say anything. Just stood there after pulling away, staring at me in total shock.”

“Did she kiss you back?”

Dean thought about it, remembering the way your mouth let him in. “At first, yeah.”

Sam chewed that over. “Does Bela know how you feel about her?”

“Sam, I’m not even sure how I feel about her.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah you are. You just have been too stupid and self deprecating to do anything about it. Does she?”

Dean shook his head.

“Are you guys fucking?”

“Not like, committedly.”

“Okay, well, you should probably stop that. And tell Trouble how deep you’re in it. Like, I hate being alone with you two, it’s so obvious.”

Dean flipped Sam off.

“What? No, I’m serious. You guys just need to get over your shit and tell each other how you feel. And warn me, because I do not want to come home for like a week after all those years of tension is finally worked out, god.”

Dean kind of gets lost in that image for a minute. “Nah, we’d go to her place. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Sam couldn’t even tease him after how pathetic he sounded. “But first you need to tell her.”

Dean sighed. “I can’t. I promised her I’d behave and stick to the plan. I can’t risk pissing off Dick and Crowley anymore, I don’t want to jeopardize the band.”

“I’m pretty sure I told you this was a bad idea and I just want to reiterate that point,” Sam snarked.

“Yeah, well, them’s the breaks,” Dean huffed as he hauled himself up and squared off with the hanging bag.

He found a rhythm and kept on his toes.

“Dean, seriously, just tell her how you feel. Life’s too short, you know?” Sam said to Dean’s back.

Dean sighed, upping his pace. Because, yeah, life was really too short.

But there was still nothing he could do about it now.

Author's Note: LISTEN! I did not even outline the first 2/3rds of this chapter. IT just HAPPENED, so yeah, they're still both idiots.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Seventeen: Trill

[atypicalamortentia]

Agreement || Lord Voldemort

Synopsis - Your family and the Dark Lord were very close, so close that an agreement had been made on your behalf when you were just a little girl: you were to be married to Lord Voldemort.

Warnings - NSFW.

Word Count - 3.2k.

[Caffeinate Me]

You’re the daughter of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. You had recently graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with some of the best scores the school had ever seen. You’re a powerful witch and you know it. 

You were aware that your family had dealings with the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort. However, you had yet to be involved. If you were home when the Dark Lord came to visit, your mother told you to go upstairs and stay quiet. You wondered if Voldemort knew your existed, and if so, why you hadn’t been drafted to be a Death Eater like your brother Draco. 

Today started like any other day. You woke up, went downstairs for breakfast and washed up when everyone was finished eating. As you put the dishes away, your mother approached you and whispered in your ear, “the Dark Lord is coming. You know what to do.” You nodded in response. You quickly finished putting away the dishes and turned on your heels. You walked to the large staircase at the entrance of your home and swiftly walked up them and down the long hallway leading to your bedroom. You were to keep yourself silent until you were called for. 

As soon as you reached your bedroom, you closed the door and lay on your bed. For a few moments you stared at the ceiling, listening out for the arrival of the Dark Lord, however all you heard was your brother and father arguing.   

“It’s not time yet father,” you heard Draco murmur. 

“I think it is time Draco,” your father hissed in response. “Do you dare question my actions?” 

There was a moment of silence before Draco responded. “No father.” 

You heard two pairs of footsteps walk down the hall and suddenly you were alone with your thoughts again. You couldn’t help but want to know what it was your father and brother were arguing about. What wasn’t it time for? You weren’t sure but you’d ask Draco about it later. You continued to lay on your bed and stared at the ceiling as you heard the chatter begin downstairs signalling the arrival of the Dark Lord. You closed your eyes and soon fell into a deep slumped. 

A significant time must have passed while you were asleep. You woke up to a dark room, the only light being from the moon outside of your window. You sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes with a yawn. You stood up from your position on the bed and moved to the door, listening out closely to hear any signs of life from downstairs. 

Silence. 

You had assumed somebody had called for you while you were asleep which is why you had never heard so you made your way out of your room and down the hall. The stairs seemed never ending in the dark as you walked down them, being careful so as not to trip on the way. You made your way to the closed dining room door, still listening out for conversation that wasn’t there. You took that as a sign the Dark Lord and all the other Death Eaters had all left so, slowly, you opened the dining room door and peered around. 

Your eyes widened. 

“There’s my princess,” he said. At the head of the table, where your father would usually be at dinner, Voldemort sat. An extremely pale being, adorned in deep green robes, the Slytherin house colours. You looked at the table top to see a huge serpent, the biggest serpent you’ve ever seen, making itself at home. Around the table were the Dark Lords loyal followers including your mother, father and brother. You were overcome with fear, unable to move as Voldemort beckoned you towards him with a pale finger. “Come, princess,” he spoke quietly. 

You wanted to run, but you knew in your heart it was futile. He would catch you, no matter where you fled. You looked to your father who nodded to you, signalling that you should do as the Dark Lord said. With wide eyes and shaky steps, you made your way over to him. Once you reached his side, Voldemort grasped your hips and dug his long fingernails into the jumper you were wearing before pulling you down to sit on his lap. Your eyes widened even more, if that was even possible, and numerous thoughts spun around in your mind. “My lord-” your father started, but was quickly silenced. 

“Now now Lucius,” Voldemort hissed. “This is all part of our agreement.”

Agreement?

You looked to your father and mother in confusion but the two avoided your gaze, eyes fixed on the Dark Lord. “What’s the matter princess? You’re trembling,” Voldemort whispered in your right ear. His breath was hot against your skin, but despite that you felt the goosebumps rise on your arms. “Did your parents not tell you? They really thought keeping you away from me would stop what was meant to be.” 

“E-Excuse me?” You asked, a slight stutter on your tongue. 

“Dear dear,” Voldemort tutted, shaking his head before looking at your father. Then, Voldemort turned his attention to you, his fingers grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him. “My princess. We are to be married.” 

“Married?!” You yelped in surprise. You attempted to jump off the Dark Lord’s lap, but he kept you planted firmly where he wanted you. “I-I can’t get married.” 

“My dear Y/N,” he whispered. “You have no choice. You will learn to love me.” 

You couldn’t help but shiver at his words. How could you love him? He had sounded so sinister in that moment and it clicked in your head, this is what your father and Draco were arguing about earlier before you had fallen asleep. You looked around the table at the Death Eaters. “But why me?” You asked. 

“My princess,” Voldemort spoke, his tone soft. “You are the most powerful witch I know and if anybody can help me, I know it’s you.” His eyes held a raw determination you had never seen before. “We will have powerful children.” 

“Children?!” You yelped again. 

Your father seemed to stiffen at the mention of you having children and this didn’t go unnoticed by the Dark Lord. Voldemort looked to your father with a smile on his face before looking back at you, “should we start now? You have a free bedroom, do you not?” His tone was mocking as his hands rubbed at your hips. Your father couldn’t help but stand up, slamming his hands on the table in front of him. Voldemort simply chuckled. “Is there a problem, Lucius?”   

Your father pursed his lips and sat back down again. Gritting his teeth he shook his head. You could tell he was desperate to say something but feared what would happen to him if he did. Your mother placed her hand on his arm in an attempt to keep him calm. “Lucius,” she whispered, a warning almost. 

Voldemort turned to you once more once your father had backed down. A sickeningly sweet yet twisted smile lay on his lips. Your heart was pounding in your chest, whether it was from fear or embarrassment you weren’t quite sure. Voldemort brought his hand up to stroke your hair and admired the glint of fear that burned in your eyes. You opened your mouth to speak but were unsure of what to say, so, you closed your mouth. Your head was spinning.

“What’s wrong, my princess?” The Dark Lord whispered in your ear. You opened your mouth to speak again, but no words came out. “My pet, these are all your loyal servants. They will do anything you ask them to do. All you have to do is be by my side.” You turned your attention from the Dark Lord to the Death Eaters sitting around the table, but none of them looked your way. None of them would help you in your current situation, not even your family. You gulped hard as Voldemort's hands moved along your hips, nails digging into the fabric of your shirt ever so slightly, almost as if it was a reminder of who he was and the power he held. You felt trapped, powerless at this moment in time. You felt his lips ghost over your neck, licking at the soft flesh covering your jugular vein. “All of this will be yours and so much more.” He pushed you off his lap and stood up. He towered over you, his presence felt threatening. “Come, my dear.” 

“Where are we going?” You ask, a slight stutter in your voice. 

“Back to my home,” Voldemort grinned. “You will be living with me from now on. All your belongings will be brought back to our home.”

Your eyes widened with surprise and you immediately began to shake your head with defiance. “I-I can’t!” You cry out, looking to your father and mother for help. Neither of them looked your way. “Mother! Father! Tell him!”

Your father finally looked at you. There was sadness in his eyes. “Y/N,” he spoke softly. “You have to go.”

“You cannot be serious,” You snapped, eyes filled with fury. You turned to see Voldemort standing next to you, his hand outstretched. 

“Come my dear,” he whispered, beckoning you. You looked to your family in one last attempt for help, but to no avail. You sighed silently, and slumped your shoulders in defeat. You knew you had no choice. You stormed past Voldemort and out of your now previous home. 

A few days had passed since that day. You were still getting used to this whole arrangement. You missed your family, though. You missed your gentle mother, stubborn father and obnoxious brother to no end. You jumped as the bedroom door opened, revealing The Dark Lord himself. You hadn’t seen him since that day so you were shocked at his presence. “What are you doing?” You shrieked. “I could have been naked or-or anything!” 

“It’s only a matter of time before I see you naked, my princess,” Voldemort grinned. You squirmed at the thought of having sex with him. “I came to announce that your family will be arriving shortly for the ceremony.”

“What ceremony?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Our wedding of course,” the Dark Lord responded. He held his hand out to you like he did that day, beckoning you to come to him. “You should get ready. Your dress is this way.” 

You stood up off of the bed and made your way over to him cautiously. This was all moving really, really fast. “Wedding? Already?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s only been a few days…”

“There is no need to wait, my princess,” The Dark Lord spoke, ushering you to the spare bedroom. “In here, everything is waiting for you.”

You walked into the bedroom. Your mother was sitting on the bed with her head in her hands. As soon as you entered, she shot up, a smile on her face when she saw your form. “Y/N…” She whispered, automatically pulling you in for a hug. 

“Mother,” you whispered back. You looked back to see Voldemort was nowhere to be seen, you closed the door quickly, looking at your mother. “I don’t want this…” You shook your head to the side. 

“But you have to, my dear,” your mother replied back. “For our family.” 

“But-”

“No buts,” she said. “This has to be done.”

It made no sense to you. None of it was making any sense. You knew of none of this before the other day and now it was your wedding day! Your mother moved to the side, revealing a beautiful deep green wedding dress. “Your dress,” your mother smiled. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of the dress. It was beautiful, not your traditional wedding dress but it was still beautiful. “When was all this decided?” You asked, your fingers trailing the seam of the dress. 

“When you were a young girl,” your mother responded. You looked at her with shock, but didn’t say anything else. “Come now. Let’s get you ready.” You nodded, remaining silent. Your mother did your hair and make-up before helping you with your dress. You felt like a princess, but this isn’t the way you thought your wedding day would go… Or who it would be with. There was a knock on the door as your dress slipped on. “Come in!” Your mother called. 

It was your father. He walked in, his eyes widening when he saw you. “You look… Beautiful…” Your father whispered as he walked into the room. He looked you up and down with a slight smile on his face.   

“Thank you,” you mumbled, not looking at him. 

Your father nodded before speaking again, “he’s ready for you now.” 

Your mother nodded and grabbed your arm, your father grabbing your other arm as they led you out into the room and into the main hall of the house. You looked around at the ceiling adorned with fairy-lights and vines, they contrasted perfectly with the dark walls. At the end of the makeshift wedding venue, Lord Voldemort stood. His face twisted into a grin the second he saw you. It sent a shiver up your spine. Your mother and father walked you down the aisle as the music played. Your heart was racing. You spotted Draco sitting at the front, his eyes full of sorrow. He didn’t want this for you. When you reached the altar, Voldemort took your hands in his immediately, his long fingernails cutting your hand slightly. 

“You look simply delectable my princess,” he whispered to you. 

You remained silent again as the priest began the ceremony. It was over quicker than it began, nobody in the room objecting to your new matrimony. “You may now kiss the bride,” the priest spoke, closing the book he was holding. 

The Dark Lord looked at you, before quickly cupping your face in his hands and pulling you close to him before you could even reject him. His tongue licked your lips desperately, almost as if he was begging for entrance into your mouth. You shook your head ‘no’ but his hand snaked down to your waist, squeezing lightly. You squeaked and opened your mouth involuntarily, Voldemort's tongue invading your senses. There were cheers from the Death Eaters around you, but you felt sick to your stomach. You were now married to the Dark Lord. 

“Come, princess,” Voldemort whispered to you as he pulled away. “Let us seal this marriage.” 

He grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs. Your mother and father watched as you disappeared up the stairs. You gulped, knowing what was about to happen. The Dark Lord shoved you into your room before grabbing your hand once more and leading you to the bed. “Let’s make this a night to remember,” he whispered into your ear before slipping his hands up your dress. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and felt as his fingers danced around the top of your underwear before he quickly pulled them down. You already felt exposed despite nothing being on show to him. With one quick swipe, your dress was down by your ankles finally leaving you exposed to the Dark Lord. 

“I…” You mumbled, unsure of what to say. 

“You look so beautiful,” the Dark Lord said to you as his hands trailed down your soft body. “It’s as if you were made for me.” 

His hands grasped your hips, pulling you down onto him. You let out a little squeak as you fell onto him causing the Dark Lord to let out a soft chuckle. His fingers made their way to your clit, stroking slow circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. “Does that feel good?” He whispered into your ear, licking a stripe up your lobe. You let out a slow nod, nerves suddenly filling your stomach. He continued his motions on your clit seemingly desperate to please you. He flipped up his robe, revealing his pale and veiny cock, throbbing for you. Your eyes widened and the cliche thought of ‘will it fit’ ran through your head. “Don’t be so scared princess,” The Dark Lord continued to whisper to you. “It’ll be okay.” 

“You’re… You’re huge,” you mumbled. This seemingly stroked his ego as the Dark Lord simply nodded, a smile on his face. 

“I know my precious thing, I know.”

Voldemort rolled over so he was hovering above you, eyes boring into your own. The smile on his lips never faltered as he slicked his dick up your folds slowly, coating himself with your wetness. Without warning, he slammed inside of you. You let out a scream and waited for him to move, but he didn’t for a few seconds. Instead, the Dark Lord gave you time to adjust to his length, cooing into your ear as he did. It felt like a lifetime before he slowly started to thrust inside you, his lips moving to your neck and sucking at the sensitive skin. You bit your lip, trying not to moan as he slipped in and out of you with ease. It didn’t take long for his movements to speed up, his hips smashing into yours relentlessly. Against your will, a moan finally slipped past your lips, and it was loud. Voldemort used this as fuel to continue his pace, his lips still working at your neck as if it was the tastiest meal he had ever had. You continued to let out a variety of whimpers as you felt your orgasm nearing. “I-I can’t!” You cried out, arms wrapping around his neck to steady yourself. 

“That’s it, my pet. Let everyone know how good I can make you feel,” he whispered into your ear. You squeezed your eyes shut once again as your orgasm finally washed over you, legs shaking violently as your cunt spasmed around the Dark Lords cock. “That’s it,” he cooed. “I can feel you pulsing around me.” You let out another cry of pleasure, nails digging into his robes to ground yourself. When your orgasm finally subsided, your brain was in too much of a haze to fully comprehend what happened next. Voldemort’s hips thrusted against you a few more times before he came inside of with, a sound comparable to a roar leaving his lips. His hips stuttered as thick ropes spurted from the tip of his cock deep inside of you, finally claiming you as his own. 

There was silence for a few seconds as you caught your breath, your mind catching up on the events that had happened over the last few hours. You were married now, and to the Dark Lord of all people. “Such a good girl,” Voldemort muttered as he cupped your face in his hands. “We will have powerful children, my love. Just you wait.” 

Before you could say anything he got off of you and fixed himself, and left the room leaving you all alone. You lay on the bed, naked, staring at the ceiling as you processed his words. Your heart raced at the possibility of getting pregnant. You weren’t ready, but you knew that didn’t matter to him. Now, all you could do was wait.. Only time would tell if you would get pregnant to the Dark Lord.

[ffxiv-f13ndish]

A time to heal

(collab. write w/ @sorrel-haven [Kore] and @ro-valerius [Tofu])

Miyu had gotten more accustomed to starting off their days early in the morning, rather than late at night, for the past few months now. The change was especially helpful following their partners’ altercations with Tuturoko. For the past few days, Miyu had gotten up early to make their breakfasts and bring it up to them as they recuperated. 

Miyu resisted the urge to throw their pan as the omelet they attempted to fold only did so halfway. They took a fork and gently nudged the other half of the fold the rest of the way over. There, good as new. At the very least, they were able to keep the omelet mostly together and not burn the bottom this time… as they had done so with the first omelet, and the latter for the second. Third and fourth times seemed to be the charm – and as such, they bid the last two to be appropriate for their beloved ones. 

They set the burnt omelet to the side and plated the omelet-turn-scrambled on the tray alongside the two approved omelets. They finished the tray off with a bowl of raspberries, three cups of coffee, carefully plated and stacked silverware and napkins (which they went through the extra and unnecessary effort of folding), and buttered toast. If the omelets weren’t a challenge enough, carrying everything upstairs and bringing it to the room was another one in itself. Unable to turn the doorknob, they gave a tentative knock with their elbow.

Kore opened the door, a soft smile on her face as she saw Miyu. She took the cups off of the tray to relieve some of their burden. As Miyu entered the room, she nudged the door closed with her foot.

“Thank you, Rainbow,” she said as she leaned over to kiss their cheek.

“Thanks, lovely,” they said as their face warmed, returning the cheek kiss. Miyu carried the tray over and set it at the end of the bed, where they paused to peck Tofu on the forehead in greeting. “You two sleep okay?” Tofu offered a soft smile. 

“I slept fine,” he said, deciding not to bring up the minor episode that had occurred. Morpho took on most of the aether, so there was no blood this time. He really had to do more to thank that Cursebreaker. 

Kore handed Tofu and Miyu their mugs and then climbed into bed on the other side. She curled up and held the mug to her lips, taking in the warmth. She hadn’t slept well, but didn’t want to talk about it just yet. Caffeine first.

Miyu took a sip of their coffee as they moved over to Kore’s side, stepping over the array of pillows and blankets on the ground — where they had been sleeping. They set down their coffee beside them, picking up a brush instead. Miyu sat behind Kore and gently brushed her hair. No rush for her to say anything yet.

“I see. Well, if there’s anything else I can grab for you, just let me know and…” they trailed off as they turned their head to muffle a yawn against their shoulder.Tofu frowned slightly and sighed.

“You two…don’t have to worry so much, you know. Miyu, sleeping on the floor isn’t good for you, nor is it very restful. Sleep somewhere proper,” he murmured. He reached over and brushed a knuckle against Kore’s cheek. “Don’t worry so much that you don’t get any rest…” He tried to offer another smile, but there was a ghost of sadness in his eyes.

“I’m fine, it’s just a few flesh wounds. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you’ll be fine. My worries are… not your injuries this time. My imagination is not playing nice with my dreams,” Kore murmured before taking a sip of her coffee.

“The bench is too far away…” they grumbled, but changed their train of thought. Miyu’s brow tensed. They were more worried about Kore’s sleep, knowing well enough about stress and trauma-induced dreams. They’ve caught some glimpses of said dreams from their partner, but not enough for a full picture.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Miyu inquired. They set the brush down and started to braid her hair. Tofu affixed his gaze on Kore, a solemn yet thoughtful frown across his face. 

If Daen Lad were back, between them and Ro, they could target the troublesome memories and lock them away, like they did for Hana when they brought her home. His frown deepened. The same treatment could be used to aid Miyu with their phantom shoulder pain. But Daen Lad hadn’t returned yet, and there was no telling when they would. They were gone to get someone for his sake, if only they hadn’t found a solution so soon, they would be here to help his dear ones… But they were gone because of him. His hands tightened in his lap as he dropped his gaze, a light wince crossing his features as he tried to will himself to relax his grip.

“You needn’t worry about me either, Tofu. My mind will recover just as your injuries." Kore reached over and placed her hand over Tofu’s hand. He kept his eyes averted.

“The body will do what it must to survive, the mind…is not so easily mended,” he said, memories bubbling just below the surface. 

Miyu gave a faint hum in agreement, absentmindedly holding a hand to their shoulder.

“And it shouldn’t be something you merely have to endure on your own — it is  a heavy burden, and you surely deserve better…” Miyu’s hand stilled at the end of her braid, their eyes dropping. “You both deserve so much better.”

“We all do,” she said with a sad smile.

“If Daen Lad were here, they could help you both…” Tofu sighed. Miyu reached over and rested a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing fondly over his cheekbone.

“I’m fine, nothing I need any help with,” they assure. Their hand dropped with their gaze. Their thoughts wandered to a prior conversation with Virgil. “If anything, I should have been more help to both of you.”

“You’re not fine. You think I haven’t noticed?” Tofu remarked flatly.

Miyu cleared their throat as they took a sip of their coffee.

“Nevertheless, I hope Daen Lad returns soon. I miss their mischief. I do hope both of your breakfasts aren’t cold by the time they arrive, though,” Miyu playfully hummed with an attempt at a grin as they gently teased the two of them.

“I’ll take the hint,” Kore said with a chuckle, as she reached for the tray to scooch it closer. Tofu sighed and reached over, plucking a raspberry off the plate and popping it into his mouth. If Miyu wasn’t ready to talk yet, he’d just have to wait more. He did hope that Miyu hadn’t forgotten that they could trust him and Kore, that they could talk to them, and it might help. 

Miyu picked up their platter and set it on their lap. They poked at their scrambled up omelet with a fork. They were quiet for a moment as they thought. They couldn’t exactly encourage opening up without doing the same.

“It doesn’t… always hurt. Just when I think about him. And everything that happened that day,” Miyu explained after a period of silence. “I want to be better for both of you. I’ll keep on working on it.”

Miyu cracked a little grin.

“You know, I think we should take our vacation soon. Once everyone’s ready and wounds are mended, hm? Where would you two want to go, if you could go anywhere?” They peered up and glanced between Tofu and Kore. 

“You can’t keep saying stuff like that and then brushing it aside like it’s fine,” Tofu said immediately. “You don’t have to be better, you’re wonderful as you are.” He took a deep breath, attempting to settle his emotions. 

“As far as the phantom pain… Do you know about Hana? How she doesn’t remember her past? Daen Lad and Ro…they can help you forget the things that are causing you pain, even temporarily.”

“I don’t want to speak for Miyu, but I don’t wish to forget. I- I was scared, but… I want to remember you saving me,” Kore interjected. He blinked at her in surprise.

The faintest of smiles brushed their lips, and Miyu nodded in agreement. They gave Kore’s shoulder a soft rub.

“Thank you for the suggestion, darling. I’ll need some time to think. I’m not sure what I want to do,” they said. As Miyu took a long sip of their coffee, they appeared to examine Tofu.

“What about you? What do you want to do now?” they tentatively inquired. Tofu looked away, and something heavy weighed in his chest.

“I…do not know,” he murmured. 

For so long, all he knew was the cycle of violence perpetuated by Tuturoko. But now, after more than two decades, he was free from it. And he didn’t know how to move forward just yet. 

“I will go wherever you both go.”

“Then let's make happy memories to drown out the bad.” Kore leaned over and rested her head on Tofu’s shoulder.

A fond smile rested on Miyu’s features as they watched the two of them. Finally, another war was finished.

“I love you both entirely,” they shared with a sheepish lilt in their voice. Tofu reached over and took one of each of their hands in his, though he still kept his eyes averted.

“I treasure you both, please don’t ever think less of yourselves, either one of you… I wouldn’t be human without you,” he said softly. He scoffed lightly to himself. “Actually, I’m hardly human with you, either. When it comes to you two…” 

He trailed off, not really knowing how to articulate what he meant. The number of times he’d been called a monster… by himself, included. But if that was what it took to protect them, that is what he would become.

His thoughts were interrupted when Kore kissed him. She lingered for more than a heartbeat before pulling back. She pressed her forehead against his, letting out a soft sigh through her nose as she smiled.

“You are also our treasure, Poppy.”

“If we can’t think less of ourselves, the same goes for you, darling!” Miyu said with a stern expression, though a giggle escaped them. 

Treasure. A faint gasp escaped them as they recalled something. Without a word, they hopped off the bed and darted out the room.

“I didn’t mean necessarily in a bad wa- and they’re gone…” Tofu started, sighing heavily. Honestly, the miqo’te had more energy than they knew what to do with, with all of the rushing about they did. 

He smiled faintly, reaching over for another raspberry and leaning his head against the wall behind the bed. His eyelids sank slightly as he stared at the ceiling. Kore wasn’t the only one that tried to appear as though she were sleeping when she was not. Not that he had the same reasoning, but it was a bit difficult to sleep when every movement made something flare up. Another sigh escaped him. Maybe he would ask Blomma to find that salve Odetta gave them…

“Tired?” Kore asked as she brushed some hair from his face. “Perhaps we can try and nap.”

“Mm, I’m fine, you can try to nap though. After you eat something,” he said, the last words coming out a little pointed. Kore gave a slight pout before picking up a fork and having some omelet. After a few bites Kore offered Tofu one, giving him her own pointed look.

“Wh-what? Don’t give me that look…” he grumbled, taking the fork from her regardless and taking the bite. He handed it back to her.

“Two. Raspberries.” 

Tofu had the decency to give a sheepish smile. 

“R-right, nothing gets past you, huh?” he asked, almost nervous sounding. Angry Kore was not on his agenda of ‘things he wanted to deal with’ any time soon. She handed him his own fork.

“Ow! Quit biting!” a muffled voice said in the hall, followed by running and the sound of chocobo feet scuttling. 

Miyu quickly opened the door as they stepped inside and swung it closed, but nevertheless took care not to slam it on the excitable chocobo chick outside. They lingered at the door a moment longer as they caught their breath. Joy flapped his wings quickly from his makeshift nest on the desk, as if to be like ‘look how well behaved I am compared to her!’

“Hello, loves. I see you’ve enjoyed your two bites of breakfast,” Miyu said with a tired chuckle. They made their way back to the bed and sat in the middle, straight across from them. It took all their energy not to just flop forward. Miyu held out their hand to present two rings to them — ones which bore what looked to be a red, heart shaped gem in the middle.

Tofu tilted his head, leaning forward and inspecting the rings. A soft smile crossed his lips in recognition; the sea glass from their time at the beach. 

“Look, you were able to make two gifts out of it,” he said, a gentle tone colouring his voice. 

“For my two gifts,” Miyu mumbled as they took their hands one by one, slipping the rings onto their fingers.

“They’re beautiful Miyu,” Kore said as she put her hand next to Tofu’s to look at them together. Tofu stared at the rings quietly for a moment.

“...one for you, too…” a half murmur came out, as if he had only spoken part of a thought out loud.

“Hm?” Kore tilted her head at Tofu. He started slightly, not realizing he had said anything out loud.

“Oh. Uh. Just… you and I have matching rings, now, so I want to…make one for Miyu, too,” he admitted awkwardly. 

Miyu leaned forward, propping their chin up on their outstretched hands as they gazed up at the two of them.

“Hmm. Really, all I wish for in exchange is… some warmth. And my cheeks are awfully cold right now,” Miyu cheekily remarked with a doe-eyed flutter of their eyes. Tofu smiled softly and leaned forward, brushing his lips against their cheek.

“I’m still making you a matching ring,” he said with a half shrug. Kore giggled and kissed Miyu’s other cheek. 

“I love you, you’re so silly.” Kore smiled.

A sheepish smile grew with the rosy bloom across Miyu’s cheeks.

“I… I love you too. Come on now, you two — less flirting, more eating our breakfasts, hm?” the Miqo’te said with a bashful grin as they reached for a slice of toast. Tofu’s face flushed as he looked away.

“Y-you started it…” he grumbled.