#and i miss Jim always even on days i get to write him ;' ))

[darehearts]

good morning  !  it's almost february,  meaning i should start getting back into queuing ✨new threads✨  !  ♡

[puckinghischier]

Sunburnt

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader gets a little too excited on her first day at the lake, resulting in a nasty sunburn

notes: hi!!!! long time so see!! my writing slump has been brutal, but i had a lil pool day today and was sitting there thinking about what a summer at the hughes lake house is like while sunbathing and this little piece popped into my head. it’s not much and probably a lil all over the place, but i hope you enjoy!! i missed all of you 🥺

[3.3k]

(also, unedited bc it’s late and i’m going to bed. i might edit it in the morning, we’ll see)

You’ve waited all year for this. You have absolutely nothing on your agenda but two straight months of lake house fun and working on your tan.

Your move to New Jersey had really put a halt to any tan building for a majority of the year. You learned quickly that the winters were long and brutal, leaving little room to feed your sunbathing addiction.

You had tried to find a salon to tan at, but you quickly got bored of the bright lights and sterile smell. You even tried spray tans a couple of times, but you always felt you had more of an orange tone than a golden one.

You didn’t have to worry about any of it for a second longer, though. You were finally in the place you craved to be year-round.

Since the season ended early for the boys this year, the Devils losing their shot at the playoffs, you and Jack had packed your things and left Jersey the second all of his current post-season duties were over with.

Jack had managed to secure himself a pass on any other post season activities the players might be pulled for. He wasn’t required to return to the city until pre-season started.

Luke and Quinn were set to join the two of you whenever they could, but with Luke playing on the U.S. national team, and Quinn’s playoff run with the Canucks coming up, it would be weeks before either brother made their way to the beloved lake house.

Ellen and Jim were also set to join at some point during the stay, but weren’t yet sure of when they could escape their work for a few weeks.

This leaves you and Jack with the entire house to yourself for the beginning of your stay. You loved the other Hughes brothers, but with Luke living with Jack and your own roommate being a homebody, the two of you were rarely ever awarded with true alone time.

You were currently putting sheets on the bed in what will be yours and Jack’s room for the next two months while Jack unloads his car.

You were nearly done when you hear the sound of a suitcase being dragged up the stairs.

“God, Y/N, I know we’re going to be here a while, but it feels like you packed your entire apartment in here.”

Poking your head out of the open doorway, you watch as your boyfriend heaves your gigantic suitcase up the double flight of stairs.

“Well, I was going to only pack a few swimsuits and pjs, but I figured I should pack some real clothes for when the rest of your family gets here.”

Jack responds with a glare as he climbs the final step, stopping to take a breather. His face was a light shade of red and there were a few beads of sweat on his top lip.

“You know, I figured since you just finished your season you’d still be in pretty decent shape, but it looks like you’re going to have to stay in the gym all summer. Maybe do a bit more cardio and weight lifting, seeing as you’re struggling to carry my lil’ ole’ suitcase,” you tease, retreating back into the bedroom to place the decorative pillows on the bed.

“Maybe if you didn’t shove a dead body in your luggage I’d be able to carry it up the stairs like a normal person. But no, you had to pack cinderblocks.” He rolls the oversized suitcase into the corner of the room, placing his own measly duffle bag next to it.

You let a small giggle slip out, walking over to where Jack was standing with his hands on his hips.

Once you reach him, you place your hands through the opening left by his arms on either side of his torso, hugging him close to you. You let your chin rest on his chest as you look up at him, his own face tilted down so he could meet your eyes.

“Thank you, my big strong hockey player boyfriend, for carrying the dead body in my suitcase up the stairs. I’ll make sure to leave your name out of all this in court,” you joke, leaning up to place a small peck on his lips.

“Oh, how kind of you. How will I ever repay you?” Jack places his own arms around you, pulling you even closer.

“Hmmm…” you pretend to think. “How about helping me rub tanning lotion on my back and laying in the sun with me for the rest of the day?”

Jack acts like he’s mulling it over, raising his eyebrows while tilting his head to one side.

“I guess I can manage that. Considering the circumstances.”

You smile up at him, pulling out of his embrace.

“Yay! Okay, I have to go get changed. Set up the chairs for us?” You ask him, clapping your hands together out of excitement.

“Your wish is my command,” Jack says with a bow, playfully rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

You turn to open your suitcase to fish out one of the many bathing suits you brought as Jack makes his way out of the room.

“Find the sunniest spot you can! I need to make up for lost time!” you shout after him, hearing a laugh as he makes his way down the stairs.

Only 10 minutes later, you walk out of the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. You spot Jack on the dock down near the lake, putting the final touches on your sunny oasis.

You make the small trek down to him, pool bag in hand and sunglasses on your face.

“Wow, all this for me?” you announce your presence as you reach the end of the lengthy deck.

Jack had set up two tanning chairs on the end of the dock, an umbrella in-between them for when you inevitably claim you’re too hot and sweaty to sit in the sun any longer. He had a small cooler set up with waters, beer for himself, and some of your favorite fruity seltzers.

He had even found a small fan that he clipped to the arm of your chair to keep you cool while you laid out in the sun. He was fiddling with the small speaker he had under the umbrella as you approached, a country song flowing out around you.

“Only the best for my little felon,” he recalls your earlier conversation, raising up to give you his full attention.

Once his eyes fall on you, his mouth snaps shut.

You had picked your skimpiest bikini, wanting to get all of the risqué swimsuits out of the way before the two of you had company later in the summer.

The number you were currently sporting was a pale pink matching set. Two tiny triangles covered your chest, while a high-legged thong covered the rest of you.

You watched as his darkening eyes raked over your body, his tongue poking out to wet his dry lips.

“Hell, baby, you can stuff my dead body in a suitcase if you’re going to look like that while doing it,” Jack breathes out.

You laugh at his response, walking over and setting your stuff on your chair, patting his bare chest as you walk past him.

You bend over to grab your tanning lotion out of your bag when you feel a light smack on your ass cheek, straightening up to find Jack standing right behind you, his hand finding its place on your exposed hip.

“Y’know, we could skip this whole tanning thing and go make use of that big, empty house while we have the chance,” Jack lowly whispers in your ear, sliding his hand around to ghost his fingers up and down the soft skin of your belly.

You lean your head back on his shoulder at the touch, allowing yourself to enjoy it for a few more seconds before turning around in his hold and placing your hands on his freckled shoulders.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea and would absolutely love to….” You trail off, standing on your tip toes and letting your lips touch his ear as you speak. Jack gulps, closing his eyes as he feels your hand slip from its spot on his shoulder and continue to move downward, almost reaching the band of his swimming trunks when you stop.

“…..after we tan” you finish, bringing your hand back up to pat his cheek, causing his eyes to shoot open.

“Okay, not fair,” he pouts as you push him back so you can continue digging through your bag.

“You told me you’d tan with me, so tan with me you shall,” you remind him, finding the bottle of lotion and holding it out to him.

Jack fulfills your wishes and very thoroughly applies the dark lotion to your skin, only being reprimanded for wandering hands a few times.

The two of you lay out on the dock for hours, enjoying each other’s company while feeling the rays soak into your skin. You talk about Jack’s team and this past season, what the upcoming season might hold, what the plan is for when the rest of the Hughes family joins, and various other light topics.

At one point you let the soft music and warmness of the sun lull you to sleep, only waking up when Jack comes over and gently shakes your shoulders.

“Y/N, c’mon, time to go inside. You’ve been in the sun for way too long, you’re going to get burnt,” Jack softly speaks to you as you come back into consciousness.

“Mmm, don’t wanna. Too comfy. Warm. Five more minutes,” you fight him, turning your head over to face opposite him.

“Nope, not an option. Can’t let you get too fried on your first day. You won’t be able to do anything for days if we don’t go inside, Lovey,” Jack uses the nickname he stole from your own family.

You grumble in protest, but peel yourself from the chair nonetheless. You notice how much lower the sun is in the sky and wonder what time it is. You pull your phone from your bag to see you’ve been out here well into the evening.

You realize you and Jack forgot to go grocery shopping after you got here, your excitement about the sunshine causing you to forget any other chores you intended on doing today.

You grab your bag and follow Jack back up the dock, admiring the way the muscles in his back are flexed due to him carrying the still full cooler on his shoulder.

“Hey, J, what are we gonna do for dinner? We don’t have any groceries and I’m not sure if you want to go out, but-“ you’re cut off by your own stomach, the growl loud enough for the two of you to hear over the music still flowing through the speaker in Jack’s pocket.

“Yeah, looks like we’re going out, huh?” Jack laughs as your cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink than they already are from the sun.

You reach the house and help unload the cooler into the fridge before making your way up the stairs to rinse off and change.

When you step into the bathroom and undress, you’re shocked to see the extremely present tan lines already formed on your very red skin. You hadn’t noticed it outside, but your entire front half is a fiery shade of red.

You lightly press two fingers to the skin in-between your breasts and notice the two white fingerprints left behind. Your eyes widen when you realize how badly burnt you are.

You exit the bathroom to grab the after-sun lotion you packed before returning and turning the shower on, making sure you remember to lather yourself in the lotion after you’re done showering.

You peel back the curtain and step under the warm stream of water, but the feeling of the water hitting your sensitive skin causes you to cry out, trying to remove yourself from the water’s harsh sting.

Your scream of pain grabs Jack’s attention, causing him to rush up the stairs and burst into the bathroom, panic evident on his face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong, are you okay?” he steps into the bathroom, looking around for the source of your scream.

“Jack, we have a problem….” You whine, pulling the curtain back to reveal the state of your skin.

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening at the angry, red color of your skin.

“Oh Lovey…”

You stand with the curtain open, shivering despite the elevated temperature of your skin. You had turned the water to cold to avoid the searing pain again, but the cold felt like small knives poking into your flesh.

“I think we got a little too excited with the tanning lotion….” You squeak out, trying to wrap your arms around yourself, but any touch to your skin felt like fire.

Jack’s eyes fill with sympathy, but also guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have woken you up sooner. You just looked so content I didn’t want to make you go inside just yet.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I should have set a timer or something. You know how I get,” you wave off his guilt, knowing you can get a little sun-drunk sometimes.

Although, you had never let yourself get this burnt before.

You blame the New Jersey climate and its lack of warm weather for your tanning needs to prevent this from happening once you do manage to get somewhere warm and sunny.

Jack still looks at you, not sure what to do for you, but not wanting to leave you by yourself, seeing as you’re stuck standing with your arms held out a few inches from your torso to avoid any unwanted skin contact.

“I don’t know how I’m going to shower, Jack. The water burns so bad, even on cold. But I have to get this sticky lotion off of me,” you whine again, frustrated that you’re burnt so badly you can’t even wash the tacky lotion off of your body.

“I’ll go get a soft washcloth, hang on,” Jack leaves the bathroom for only a second before returning with a soft, blue cloth in his hands.

He adjusts the water temperature and holds the cloth under the lukewarm water for a moment before applying some of your body wash to it and handing it to you.

You take the cloth from his hands and attempt to wash yourself, but any movement of your limbs causes your damaged skin to pull, making you whimper out in pain.

“Okay, don’t worry baby, I got you,” Jack takes the cloth from you, stepping into the shower, standing in-between you and the water streaming out of the shower head.

“Please, be careful, J, it hurts,” you whine out, eyeing the cloth in his hand.

“I got you, Lovey, trust me,” Jack tells you as he drags the cloth over your skin so lightly you’re not even sure it’s touching you.

He continues the feather-light motion slowly, until he’s cleaned your entire body.

“I have to rinse you now, okay? It might sting, but we’ll go slow,” he turns to rinse the cloth, letting it soak with water once more after there’s no traces of soap left.

You close your eyes as he squeezes the water out of the cloth onto your arm, the sting only slightly better than before, but bearable enough you only have to have him stop once.

After he rinses all of the soap off of your body, Jack turns off the shower and finds the softest towel in the cabinet under the sink. He pats your sore skin dry, then rubs the after-sun lotion all over your body before helping you into your pajamas.

“Jack, I don’t think I can wear this, hurts too bad,” you tell him when he hands you the matching button up shirt to the shorts you’re currently wearing.

“Okay, go topless, then. Won’t hurt my feelings any,” he winks at you, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile.

Once you were as dressed as you could stand to be, Jack helps you to the bed sitting in the middle of your bedroom. Luckily your back wasn’t burnt, so he helps you into a partial sitting position, piling several pillows behind you to prop you up.

He starts to pull the blanket over you, but you stop him, knowing anything touching your skin right know would bring you to tears.

“Babe, you’re going to get cold if you don’t cover up with something. As soon as the sun sets you’ll get the chills,” he eyes the large window on the other side of the room, knowing it’ll be dark in another hour.

“Jack it hurts too bad, I can’t,” you cry out, pouting at him.

“Okay, fine. We’ll figure something out later,” he gives in, walking over to the other side of the bed and sitting down.

He turns on the tv and attempts to find something for the two of you to watch when your stomach growls again, reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten since this morning.

“Jack, I’m still hungry.”

“Do you want me to go grab something?”

“No, don’t leave me here by myself, what if my skin starts melting off?” you exasperated.

Jack laughs at you. “Your skin isn’t going to start melting, but fine. I’ll go find the take out menus and see who delivers.”

Thirty minutes later the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of your Chinese food.

Jack goes to grab the food and bring plates upstairs so the two of you can eat in your bed, knowing you don’t feel like trying to walk downstairs to the dining room table.

He sets everything out like a small buffet. You manage to sit up a little straighter and try to reach for a plate, but the movement brings a new stinging warmth to the skin of your arm.

“Jack, I can’t even reach for a plate, how am I supposed to fill said plate and feed myself,” you say, frustrated.

Jack doesn’t say anything, but he takes the plate you were reaching for and puts all of your favorites on it. He grabs a fork and moves so he’s sitting cross-legged beside you.

“Here, open up,” Jack brings a fork full of food towards your mouth, motioning for you to open your mouth as the fork gets closer to you.

You open your mouth and he shovels the food in, going back in for more food once you had chewed and swallowed the first bite.

“Are you really going to sit here and feed me that entire plate?” you ask him, slightly embarrassed that this is how your first night at the lake house is going.

“Well, yeah. You said you were hungry, right?” Jack responds, looking at you as if he thought your question was stupid.

“I am, but you don’t have to do this. You can eat your food. I’ll figure out something. I feel like a kid sitting here being fed,” you tell him, wishing you could cross your arms the way you usually do when you pout.

“Y/N, you’re sitting in front of me with no shirt on. I’m trying my hardest not to stare at your boobs right now because I feel it would be wildly inappropriate to be sporting a boner when my girlfriend is clearly in pain. I can assure you, the last thing I’m thinking about right now is you resembling a kid,” he says, seriousness lacing his tone.

You laugh at your boyfriend, causing the skin on your belly to burn slightly, but you don’t care. You love how Jack can always make you feel better about any situation, even one as embarrassing as this.

“Now, c’mon and open up. Your food is gonna get cold,” he fusses, bringing another fork full of food towards your mouth.

He feeds you an entire plate of food, then eats his own. He takes the dishes and leftovers downstairs before coming back up to take a shower of his own.

Once he’s done with his own shower, he brings the bottle of after-sun back into the bedroom and lathers your skin in it once again, hoping this will help soothe your skin a bit more before the two of you try to sleep.

He settles in the bed, and as he predicted, you’ve started violently shivering.

“Can I please put a blanket on you now? I know you said it hurts, but you’re going to shiver right out of this bed if you don’t cover up,” Jack pleads, hating to see you shaking like this.

“Yeah, we can try. But maybe just the top sheet only for now,” you tell him, still apprehensive.

He gently pulls the top sheet over your body, letting it fall right at your collar bone.

You thank him for that second coat of after-sun because you can actually bear the thin cotton on your skin this time.

“Better?” he asks, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from you.

“Better. Thank you, Jack,” you tell him, causing him to relax a bit.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he shrugs it off, moving to get himself settled on his side of the bed.

“No, I mean it. I’m sorry I let myself ruin our first night here. I just got too eager, I guess. Forgot I haven’t laid out in a while.”

“It’s okay. Really. It’s partially my fault, too. For letting you sleep for so long without making you move under the umbrella with me,” he turns the light off, sliding down next to you, but not touching your skin.

“Well, I promise, I’m wearing sunscreen and sunscreen only for the rest of the summer,” you swear to him, moving your hand to loop your pinky through his, not being able to handle not touching him.

“I mean, I’m all for it, babe, but I don’t know how my parents and brothers will feel about that,” Jack quips back. You can hear the amused smile on his face, even though the room is pitch black.

“Goodnight, Jack.” Is all you say, rolling your eyes and smiling even though you know he can’t see you.

Jack lets out a laugh, squeezing your pinky.

Your skin may be on fire due to your love of sun soaking, but your heart has been sunburnt for years; Jack’s own personal sunshine setting it on fire every second you’re together.

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

epilogue:

➴ chapter warnings: mentions of abortion.

➴ word count: 2.9k

💌 from me to you: writing endings suck by the way. hope u enjoy tho :)

౨ৎ

madisonhughes

liked by haileybieber, gigihadid, nickharris_img and 789,101 others

madisonhughes one year ago i married my best friend. i love u _quinnhughes 🤍

View all 1,398 comments

user1 i still remember the fuss we made the day she changed her username to hughes 😭

user2 user1 no bc u just had to be there 😭 everyone freaking out and people asking if her wedding had been live-streamed

user3 user1 user2 omg and people trying to cancel her for changing her last name?? i was on twitter fighting for my life

user4 user3 AND THE DAY AFTER QUINN POSTED A PICTURE OF HER WEARING HIS JERSEY DURING THEIR HONEYMOON LMFAO

_quinnhughes Pretty sure i love you more

nickharris_img my favorite couple. Miss you Mads

user6 the day i had to change my @ bc i couldn’t be quinnybear43wife anymore 💔

haileybieber it was magical 🥹

canucks One year already? 😱

jackhughes best night of my life… got drunk after 3 minutes

౨ৎ

2034, OCTOBER.

YOU HAD just turned the cell phone off when you heard Lila’s first scream.

Out of your instinct, you quickly walked towards her bedroom, knowing that she would be there with Quinn, since there was where you left both of them before you answered Jim’s call, asking about what time you were planning on going to their house, where they’d hold a Halloween welcoming party, since you and Quinn had just bought them a house in Vancouver.

Ever since your daughter, Lila, was born, three years ago, they’d been traveling to Vancouver every other week, and even though they told you several times that they didn’t mind all the flying and the hotels, you and Quinn both decided that it’d be best for them to at least have a private place to stay whenever they wanted to visit their granddaughter.

And Lila, the always calm, adorable baby, had been laughing with Quinn before you left the room, so her crying now was worrying to say the least. As you got closer to her bedroom, the crying got louder and louder, and you were pretty much sure neither Quinn nor Lila heard you entering the room.

“Tell Daddy what’s wrong, baby,” Quinn’s sitting on the floor, his hands wiping Lila’s tears, uselessly. “I’ll fix it, I promise,”

“No princess!” She yells back at him, throwing the yellow Belle dress you bought for her last week, making you frown as you lean against the door, choosing to let Quinn deal with her before you stepped in.

Bella stares at her, hiding her nose between her paws, which distracts you momentarily.

“Lila, baby. What did we say about yelling?” He asks softly, blue eyes searching for Lila’s. “There’s no need to yell. Daddy just wants to understand why you’re so upset since you wanted to be Belle so bad. What happened?”

Somehow, his question only seems to upset her even more. “No want. Belle.”

He chuckles, moving her chestnut hair out of her cherubic face.

“I can see that. And I want to know why. Do you remember how Mommy is always telling you that we need to explain why we’re upset? She’s right, baby.”

“Mhm,” she nods her head, scratching her eye with her left hand. “Mommy’s right.”

“Mommy is always right, isn’t she?” Quinn jokes, making you smile.

You decide that it’s the right time for you to step in, since Quinn already calmed Lila down and you wouldn’t get in his way of teaching her manners.

Walking until you were in the middle of the room, you smiled at them before you sat down on the carpet, beside Quinn.

“Is everything okay here?” You softly ask, giving Lila a brief kiss on her cheek, before doing the same with Quinn, making him smile right back at you.

“Lila’s upset about her costume,” Quinn explains. “She doesn’t want to be Belle.”

“No Belle!” She says loudly again, stomping her little feet. You had to use all of your strength to not coo at her cuteness.

“Okay, baby. We understand, you don't want to be Belle. Want to tell mommy and daddy why is that?”

Lila sighs loudly, her face still red from all the crying, proceeding to point at Quinn.

“Daddy.”

“Yes, baby, that’s daddy,” you chuckle. “What about daddy?”

“Wanna be d-daddy.” She stutters, hiccuping right after.

You and Quinn stare at each other, confused, before realization hits you both.

“She wants to be you for Halloween,” you whisper to him, watching as his eyes immediately fill up with tears, just like yours.

It was one of the most precious moments of your life. After years of going to therapy and working on yourself, and after you and Quinn married each other, you finally understood that you could have a loving family. Something to call yours. And when you found out you were pregnant, it was terrifying, because all you could think of is that you were going to be just like your mother.

You still remember that day as if it had been yesterday, and not three years ago. It was winter, late night, and you knew Quinn wouldn’t get home from his away game until the morning after.

Bella looked at you with a stressed expression on her face, putting her paw on your thigh, as you were sitting on the toilet’s lid and staring at the plastic thing on your other thigh.

Positive, it read. And it couldn’t be, not with you.

You and Quinn had a decent amount of sex, but even though you ditched the condom a long time ago, you still took your birth control pills religiously, you hadn’t been sloppy.

And now, after two weeks of constant headaches, nauseous and sore boobs, you decided to listen to your heart and buy a couple of tests. Despite doing all of that, you didn’t expect them to turn out to be positive.

It was scary as hell. You pondered calling Emma, your therapist, but then you checked the time on your phone and it was already three a.m. Besides, you felt bad for telling her first, and not Quinn or Victoria even.

What the hell am I going to do?, you keep asking yourself. You knew that Quinn wanted to have kids, but what about those couples who fall out of love when they have kids? Or those people who start complaining about children all the time?

Or what if I turn out to be just like my mom, the hidden, dark part of you asks, and the thought sends you into a spiral. What if I turn out just like my mom?!

You rest your head between your hands, letting the first tears roll down your face, freely. For the first time ever you were happy that Quinn wasn’t around you because you don’t even know what you would tell him.

Bella continues to whimper beside you and even though you want to tell her you’re fine, you couldn’t. Because you weren’t.

“Sweets? What’s wrong?”

Quinn’s voice scares you so hard you get up from the lid, gasping as the test falls from your thigh, hitting the carpet underneath your feet with the softest thud.

“Quinn?” You ask, trying to wipe your tears as fastest as you could. “What are you doing here? You said you’d be back tomorrow.”

“We left the arena earlier but—” he steps closer, his hands finding your waist immediately. “What happened, baby? Are you hurt? Do we need to visit the hospital? What’s going on?”

His soothing voice only made you cry more, because you could totally picture him talking like this with a little baby, your baby. Quinn would be the most perfect father ever, and you had always known it.

He puts your head in the space between his neck and shoulder, rocking you gently as he often did whenever you had a meltdown— rare moments that happen from time to time, always with him by your side to take care of you.

He didn’t force you to speak, he never did. He respected your time, and even when sometimes you only wanted to talk about the things upsetting you days later, he’d respect your wishes. And you love him so much for that.

“I’m pregnant,” you say, the words coming out muffled since your mouth was hidden.

Quinn freezes for a second, pulling you just the slightest bit away, his blue eyes searching for something inside of yours. Whatever he found, it only made him frown.

“I think I misheard what you said. Can you repeat, baby?”

“I’m pregnant,” You finally say, feeling the tears that had stopped for a minute coming back with more strength. “I’m sorry.”

His frown deepens. “What are you sorry for, baby? Don’t say that.”

“I swear I took all of my pills,” you choke on your tears, shaking your head. “I did everything right but—”

“Maddie, look at me,” Quinn grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “This isn’t your fault, sweets, there’s no such thing as saying sorry because you’re pregnant. The moment we decided to have sex without a condom we knew this could happen. It’s fine, baby, we will work it out. It’s my responsibility too.”

“I know you don’t want this now,” you whisper. “I know the timing is bad. That’s what I’m sorry for.”

Quinn kisses your cheek before intertwining his hand with yours and getting you both out of the bathroom, with Bella following behind you. He took you to the kitchen, sitting you on one of the stools and filling up the baby blue kettle that sat on the counter with water. While he waited, he turned around and walked back at you, kissing your head.

“In what world do you live in, baby?” He chuckles. “Of course I want a baby with you, Maddie. You’re the love of my life.”

Your heart jumped inside your chest, the tiniest hint of a smile appearing on your face.

“I’m just— you’re in the middle of the season. I have work too. And—what are we going to do, if we decide to k-keep it?”

“I think it’s too soon for you to decide anything, mhm? I’m not an expert, but I know we have some time before deciding what you want to do. Either way, I’ll be holding your hand the entire time.” He smiles at you again, booping your nose, like he often did.

The kettle beeps, and Quinn runs straight to it, turning it off and pouring the water in your favorite mug, where he had already put a chamomile tea bag inside of it.

He also poured a little bit of cold water, just to get the tea’s temperature perfect for you to drink.

“No sugar for you, because you’re already sweet enough.”

You laugh between your tears. “Will you someday stop talking about the fact that I don’t like to drink tea with sugar?”

“I don’t think so, baby, but I’ll try.” He winks, the mood lighter.

You drank your tea with Quinn by your side, talking about his game and how things went. He knew you liked when he talked about his work, so the fact that he started doing it without you asking meant a lot to you.

As he talked, you tried to organize your thoughts inside your head. Which hadn’t been easy.

“I don’t wanna be like her.” You whisper, and Quinn smiles sadly at you, shaking his head.

You haven’t spoken with your family in years. You’d yearly text them on their birthdays, but you’d always block them right after, not wanting them to reach you. It was just still hard for you to understand how your own family didn’t want anything to do with you, so you kept doing that, just for your peace of mind.

It wasn’t like you missed having them in your life, because you reached a point where all the memories you had of them were bad. And when you married Quinn, and added his last name to yours? It was like your mom finally reached her breaking point and unleashed all of her disgust for you in one go, during a very harsh phone call, where Quinn had to intervene and turn it off. “It will be the last time you’ll speak to my wife like this, do you hear me? I don’t care who you are or what you do. This is the last time, Jessica.”

And it had been the last time indeed.

“You won’t ever be like her, baby.”

“You don’t know that,” you frown. “I’ve heard people talking before, y’know? I remember how they’d say my mom was different before I was born. And sometimes Peter would talk about it too. She might’ve not loved my dad, but she was happy before me. Will I be the same if we keep the baby?”

Quinn holds your hand and caresses it with his thumb. “You already know the answer to that, Maddie. You’re nothing like her, and you never will be,” he kisses your lips. “Besides, why are you so worried about being a mom? Aren’t you one already?”

You laugh, looking at Bella slaughter her tennis ball on the couch.

“I guess you’re right.”

Lila frowns at Quinn’s tears, looking at you for help, because she had never seen her Daddy cry before.

“Why daddy cry?” she asks, before taking little steps and stopping in front of him, little hands wiping his face. “Don’t cry, daddy.”

“These are tears of joy, babygirl,” he laughs, hugging her tiny body, their beautiful curls touching each other. “Of course you can be daddy, baby. In fact, we’ll both be daddy.”

Lila’s giggle fills up the entire room, and she runs around, happily.

“Be careful, love,” you tell her, resting your head on Quinn’s shoulders, watching as Lila sits on top of Bella, making her growl loudly. “We have to get going, though, baby. Grandpa is waiting for you with Grandma.”

“U-uncle Luke?” she asks, making you laugh and Quinn sigh.

“What’s up with that unhealthy obsession of hers with Luke?”

“It’s probably the curls,” you joke, teasing him. “And the smile.”

“I have curls and a beautiful smile too, Madison, I’m not following.” He furrowed his eyebrows, and you giggled at his jealous face.

“We have to get ready, come on,” you tell him, before getting up and searching for Lila’s jersey with Quinn’s name and number on it, while Quinn looked for his.

“Why aren’t you wearing a costume, Maddie? Lila, your mommy’s boring.” Jack rolls his eyes at you, his arms reaching out for Lila as soon as he opens the door. “And look at you, huh? Are you supposed to be Quinn?”

“Mommy’s not— boring. And I wanna be daddy.” Lila wraps her hand around Jack’s neck, holding him close. “Uncle Luke?”

“I’m here, princess,” Luke says, standing behind Jack and smiling at Lila, who makes grabby hands and jumps to his arms right away, making both Quinn and Jack pout. You laughed behind your hands.

Thankfully, Lila managed to distract everyone from the fact that you were the only person not wearing a costume. For your surprise to work, it wouldn’t make sense for you to wear anything. Earlier, you had told Quinn that you hadn’t had time to buy anything, which had been a straight up lie. But he didn’t question you anyway, just told you that next time you could ask him to buy it for you.

Jim and Ellen’s house was packed with people, some of the family’s friends and cousins, all dressed up and cheerful. You spent the entire evening making sure that everything was perfect for your surprise, while Quinn took care of Lila— or tried to take care of her, since your little girl hadn’t left her uncle’s arms yet.

“Okay, so, everyone,” you start, watching as Quinn’s family sits on the gigantic table in the backyard, with Lila sitting on Luke’s lap and Quinn beside Ellen and one of his cousins. “Last thing we’re doing before dinner is the pumpkin carving contest. The prettiest one will win.”

“Who will be the judge?” Jack asks.

“Me.” You grin at him, hearing his complaints.

Thankfully, everyone was very competitive, and seemed to be enjoying the little game. You eyed Quinn surreptitiously, trying your hardest not to catch his attention before he found your surprise, which happened ten minutes later, after he opened the pumpkin in front of him, suddenly interrupting his talk with his cousin.

You watched as he read the little card you left for him inside the orange fruit, his blue eyes immediately finding yours.

“Why is it so hot in here?” you say to no one, removing your hoodie and placing it on the chair beside where you were standing, stretching your shirt that read Growing Our Little Pumpkin, the cheesy line written with a funny calligraphy.

“Madison.”

Somehow, Quinn’s serious tone reached everyone’s ears, and now all of them, minus Lila who was very entertained with writing on Luke’s pumpkin, were staring at you and, well, your shirt.

You found out that you were expecting again two weeks ago, deciding not to tell Quinn immediately, this time not out of fear but out of want for doing something special, and since Ellen had already arranged this costume party, you thought this would be the perfect moment.

“Oh my God!” Ellen shouts beside Quinn, her smile brighter than the moon decorating the sky. “Oh my God!”

Quinn gets up so fast you barely have time to breathe before his arms are wrapped around your body, squeezing you tightly.

“Baby, are you serious? Is this a joke?” he asks, voice quivering a little.

“No,” you laugh. “I’m pregnant, love.”

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he glues his lips to yours, and even though you can hear his family’s cheers for you and Lila laughing somewhere, nothing else matters, except for how Quinn holds you.

And if you stop to think for a moment, nothing has ever mattered more than your love for him in your life. You weren’t exactly sure if that was healthy or not, but after caring about the wrong people for so long, you were happy to finally have found something that was yours to keep. Quinn, Lila, the baby growing inside you, his parents and brothers— they were part of you now, and would always be.

Loving Quinn was the best decision of your entire life.

And now you were the person who’d get to keep him for life.

౨ৎ

madisonhughes

liked by kyliejenner, lhughes_06, trevorzegras and 1,082,001 others

madisonhughes past few days :)

View all 2,013 comments

user1 HELLO??? SHE’S PREGNANT AGAIN!????

maddiehughes_updates SHE’S PREGNANT

lhughes_06 missing lila :,(

adrianalima Omg congrats!!!! 🥹

canucks Baby Hughes no 2 💙

vic_alonso can we name the baby victoria if it’s a girl and victorio if it’s a boy

madisonhughes vic_alonso no.

jackhughes madisonhughes vic_alonso don’t be silly. Jack if it’s a boy, Jackie if it’s a girl.

_quinnhughes jackhughes 🤦

nickharris_img i love u 😗😗

user2 Lila will be a big sister 😭😭😭

user3 I will kms right now so I can reincarnate as your kid

| THROUGH THE YEARS |

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay @urthem00n 🤎

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me - You Miss Me - 4

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Hi, time for more, arguably making things better, but also arguably making things much worse.

----

There was a diner a block and a half from their apartment. Steve found it when the sky opened up during his jog one morning. Snow, he could have handled, he was dressed for it. Slushy sleet mixed with hail was another matter. He ducked inside to hide until it passed, chatted with the owner for a bit, and brought Robin with him the next day because they had an amazing spread of waffle toppings, including crumbled bacon, and Steve knew she’d go crazy about it.

He was correct, and it was their go to spot, not just for breakfast. 

At the end of January, Rebecca sat down to join them, and handed Steve an application. 

Steve was already working at a JC Penny in the stock room, and picked up a few hours at a roller rink filling in when someone called out. They had enough money to live. Not decadently, but they could cover all their bills, and keep gas in the car, and buy supplies for Robin’s classes.  

“Uh, Rebecca, I’m- thank you? But. My memory sucks, and my hearing isn’t great, and if someone starts getting rude, I’m going to get rude back to them, and --”

“This is a diner, hun,” she stopped him, “You write the orders down, you can always tell someone to say it again, and the fact you can shut down anyone that gives you lip is why I think you’ll be good at it. Like I said, it’s a diner. We don’t have to be all sunshine and daisies here.”

“I’m working at another--”

“Over at the mall and the rink, I know. And I know you’re free Monday through Wednesday mornings. And,” she stressed, “staff gets free meals and first dibs on the day olds.”

“Dingus!" Robin gasped and grabbed his arm. "Do it, do it. Stevie. Please, oh my god, please, you have to take it. You can bring me the brioche buns. And that apple butter. And that thing with the nuts! Steeevveee, don’t you love your soulmate? Please? I cou--”

So Steve took the job, and worked a few mornings a week. By the third week of February, he stopped feeling like he was going to fuck up any second. He understood why Rebecca liked his ability to get bitchy in the face of difficult customers, and he and Robin had cupboards well stocked with random take homes. 

He liked it. Starting at five in the morning took some getting used to, but he was done by one, and traded off with a middle aged mom named Susan after the lunch rush settled down. Was it a ton of money? No. But he got more tips than he expected to, and the brioche really was delicious. 

The last week of February, he was working alone on a Tuesday, at the start of the lunch rush, expecting Susan to arrive soon, and an easy day. 

“Be with you in a minute,” he called to whoever just came inside, bussing half a dozen empty plates from table two after dropping off more creamer at table four. He looped back, ducking behind the counter to put the plates on the pass through for Nick to grab. 

He dropped the entire stack before he got there.

His hands clenched down, his muscles locked, and even though it should have made him hold harder, everything slipped, and either shattered on the tiles or banged into his feet.

Jim Hopper winced from his seat at the counter. “Sorry, kid.”

The couple of other diners glanced up to check on him, and John looked around the window from the kitchen. Steve didn’t move. Couldn't. Could barely breathe.

“Is it back?”

“No.”

His exhale shook out of him before he shoved down the panic.

“Then whatever this is can wait.” 

“I’m just here to talk.”

“And I said it can wait.”

He swept up the broken dishes, shrugged off John’s silent offer to throw Hopper out, and reminded himself there was no reason to think that the Upside Down was back. That meant this was going to be more awkward and less dangerous, and he was going to hate it, but it was still the better version of the day. 

“What’ll you have?” 

“Kid, I’m here to talk cause I didn’t think you’d want me at your place.”

“And I’m at work, and this is a diner, so what’ll you have?”

“Steve--”

“I’ll bring you coffee. I’m not talking about this while I’m working.”

“Coffee’s good. When are you off?”

Steve gave his bitchiest smile, didn’t answer, and went to seat the couple that just walked in. 

The lunch rush was a mercy. Susan handled Hopper, and gave him the iciest service anyone had ever gotten under that roof. Hopper took it gracefully, but he didn’t shift, or push, or give any indication that he wasn’t willing to sit there til midnight if he had to. 

Normally, Steve would get some lunch to go and head home. If the weather was bad, he ate at the booth in the corner to wait it out. With the way his stomach was twisting, unable to separate Hopper from what his arrival could mean, he wasn’t going to keep food down. He filled a glass of water, then silently gestured Hop to follow. 

“Good to see you, Steve,” he said when they sat. “You and Robin doing okay up here?”

“We’re fine. Why are you here? If it isn’t something to do with, you know, then why are you here?”

“Maybe I just came up to check on you.”

“Did you?” Steve snorted into his drink when that question made Hopper’s face twist up. “So what is this?”

“I am here to check on you. There’s something else, but I came here because I’m checking on you. Me and you weren’t all that close, but you had Mrs Buckley give me your info so I’d know where you were.”

“Yeah, in case of an emergency. And you said there wasn’t any emergency. Plus, you had my phone number, so you could have called, which would be way less weird than showing up while I’m at work, you know?”

Hopper scratched at his cheek. “It’s not an emergency compared to all the reasons you wanted me to be able to find you, but if you ask those kids, this may as well be the end of the world again.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“Yeah, well. Henderson is gonna get himself arrested if he keeps trying to steal the mail and find something addressed to you. Max keeps pushing El to try and find you. The only reason they haven’t gone completely crazy is because of the Buckleys telling them that you’re fine. She gave me your address and number, and she talked for a little bit about the kids.” 

Steve smiled at that. Mrs Buckley had never talked a ‘little bit’ about anything in her life. Either she was holding the line on being rude to anyone that might bother them, or Hop was pretending he hadn’t listened to a solid hour of rambling.  

“Still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“Want to ask if I can -- shit, I don’t know. I can route mail back and forth so they never have your address or something. I’d rather give them your info so I don’t have to be involved, but I already know you won’t agree to that.”

Steve ignored the pause that Hopper left there. Conversation and good manners said he should concede to something so he wouldn’t inconvenience the man too much. The last month with Robin supporting his choice kept his mouth shut. She’d be pissed at him if he folded, and worse, she’d help him get through all the pain it caused if he did talk to the kids again. Then he’d feel guilty and sad. 

“Alright,” Hopper grumbled, “Didn’t think you would, but you know how those kids can be. Can’t fault me for trying.”

“So, we’re done? You sat here all this time just to talk for three minutes?”

“Almost.” 

“So….” At least Steve could enjoy the fact that neither of them were enjoying this.  Hopper winced a bit before he spoke. 

“I didn’t tell any of the kids I was coming up to see you. None of them knew, and none of them are gonna know. Didn’t even tell Joyce why, just that I was driving up to Indy. Already had a plan in case they tried to tail me up here. So, had a surprise this morning when I got to my truck. it might change your answer.”

“Didn’t know you were so dramatic about stuff.”

“Side effect of two hours with that surprise, I guess. Eddie Munson came up with me.”

Any of the kids would have hurt. 

Henderson might have made him cry. 

Eddie Munson? That didn’t make sense. 

They weren’t friends, never had been. The Upside Down meant they were connected, but they were never more than acquaintances, even when Steve was desperately trying to keep them all close. Sure, he’d taken over as the chauffeur for the kids, and everyone’s new best friend, but that didn’t explain why he’d bother to come up to talk to Steve. 

“What the hell? Why?”

“He asked.”

“And you said yes.”

“He said please.”

That was not the whole story. There was something getting skipped over, left out. Hopper tolerated Munson, but he wouldn’t do him a favor if there wasn’t some kind of monster involved. 

“Wait, you’ve been here for two hours.”

“Yep.”

“Did you just leave him in your truck this whole time? That front came through overnight. The high is thirty four today.”

“Yeah, I did,” Hopper said flatly. “He told me he wanted to come up so he could talk to you. Told me a little bit about why. And I said yes and I let him come, but I told him that I was gonna talk to you first. If you said no, he was gonna stay in that seat clear back to Hawkins, and keep his mouth shut about this whole thing.”

“How’d he know what you were doing?”

“No clue.”

“What does he want to talk about?”

“Not gonna say it for him.” Hopper shifted towards the edge of the booth. “So, want me to tell him to buckle back up, or tell him to get his ass in here?”

A quick consult with the imaginary Robin in his head left him just as confused, but curious as hell. He agreed, and fidgeted with a napkin, struggling to think of any reason why Eddie Munson would want to talk to him, or what the hell he said that the kids hadn’t that convinced Hopper to drive him up. 

Stuck in his head, Steve jumped when a mess of a man in denim and leather slid shivering into the seat opposite. The scars on his face and hands were less vivid than they were last time they saw each other, but they still worked as a thermometer. Steve's did the same.

“Why the hell were you sitting in the cold, man?”

Eddie blinked, and froze where he was rubbing his hands together trying to get feeling back. “Hopper took the keys.”

Steve’s turn to blink. This was the guy taking care of his kids. 

“Susan?” He called, gesturing for two when she lifted the coffee carafe in a question.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Dude, I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here or why you care or what the hell is happening, but I’m not gonna let you sit there shaking cause you’re a dumbass who doesn’t know what gloves are.”

Steve watched packet after packet of sugar pour into Eddie’s, while he stirred a splash of half and half into his own cup. Eddie took a gulp, hissed at the heat, and clutched at the mug, eyes glued to the nicked surface of the table. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For rotting your teeth out? That’s your choice, Munson.”

“No,” Eddie insisted, voice hoarse, “I’m sorry about the kids.”

Steve took a breath, took a sip, took another breath. “Look, man, that’s not on you. You play D&D with them, and you like all their nerdy shit. I was -- They grew up. We got through everything, all of that, we won, and they grew up. It’s not your fault that they like you more than they liked me. So, thanks, I guess, but--”

“Steve. No. They didn’t. They -- those kids did not suddenly grow up and decide they didn’t like you anymore. You are their favorite person anywhere, ever, you will be for the rest of eternity, and they don’t understand why no one will tell them how to reach you. They put on a really good show about being mad about it, but, come on, you know what they’re like. They want to apologize cause they know they hurt you, and they want to fix it, and just, you gotta let them try, Steve. You gotta let them talk to you. They miss you so fucking much.”

“Look, I know how they get, and I know how dramatic they are, but it’s still not your fault--”

“It is. Steve. It is my fault. That’s - That’s why you have to talk to them. Cause they didn’t grow up and get over you or decide they didn’t care about you. Those kids are crazy about you, and they never stopped, and they’re hurt right now cause they don’t understand why you left them, and you gotta fix it with them, please.”

Something pinged weird in his ear when he heard the way Munson’s voice cracked. Not just worry, not just helping, not just caring about the kids. Guilt. He was taking the blame for it, even though that didn’t make any sense. The kids were - brats, gremlins, terrors, the most stubborn people he’d ever met, and he knew Nancy Wheeler. If they wanted to be around him, they would be around him. 

It wasn’t Eddie’s fault, or anyone’s fault. It hurt like hell, and Steve wished it wasn’t true, but this was just life. Kids grew up, their interests moved. Friendships changed and ended. 

But that crack of guilt…

“How is it your fault and not theirs that they stopped wanting to ever see me?”

Eddie’s hands stopped shaking from the cold before he got the coffee. 

His hands were shaking again.

Trembled in the time between Steve asking, and Eddie managing to respond.  

“I, uh, I asked them to.”

----

Don't be too mad at him yet. He has a lot more to say.

Part Five >>>

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

(hi chat. i wrote a fic about oli cameo-ing in wild life. it’s about 1k words. lizzie jimmy and scar are in it. it gets a little sad. i hope you enjoy it)

Oli snickered at the absolutely dumbfounded expression currently being given to him by none other than Jimmy Solidarity.

“Hiya Tim. Did you miss me?”

Jimmy continued to stare with his jaw halfway to the void. “What- you- you’re not- how are you here?”

Oli just grins, sitting back and crossing his legs with what he hopes is an annoyingly smug expression. Judging by the way Jimmy’s eyes flash, it’s working.

“I’m just that special. Being practically god and all, I thought I should pay a visit to my sweet sweet boy.” Oli waves a hand, tilting his head. Jimmy looks cute when he’s confused.

“Does Grian know you’re here?”

Oli grins. “Who do you think invited me?”

If Jimmy wasn’t in shock before, he certainly is now. “Grian. Brought you. Here. To his death games.”

Oli swings his legs absently. “Someone had to write a song for that little trivia bot. 2 of them, actually. In one day. Not sure how I pulled that one off, not to mention the snails.”

Jimmy dissolves into a fit of nonsensical babbling, and Oli can’t help but it burst into laughter again. While Jimmy processes this, Oli decides it’s about time he takes a look around. He hops off the block he’s sitting on, spinning around slowly to take in Jim’s base.

It’s cutesy, he decides, and almost painfully familiar. The cherry theming, the hilltop location, the giant animal statues. It always comes back to death and canaries, somehow. Oli can’t figure out how Jimmy keeps getting away with this. He walks slowly, dramatically sweeping around to take everything in. Listening to cherry petals shift under his feet and trying to drown out the phantom sound of explosions in his head. Jimmy has stopped talking, and is staring at him as he wanders. Oli flashes him a smile. Jim just looks apprehensive.

Oli doesn’t blame him. He’s not supposed to be here, even by Grian’s standards. And mathematically, Oli has an infinite amount of kills per death games he’s been in. He’s not a player, and as such he can’t die. He’s immune to Grian’s wildcards and rules. He’s practically a god, in a way, which is not really something he’s ever experienced. It would be more fun if he was allowed to stay. Maybe he can write another song.

Deciding there isn’t much more to look at, Oli turns fully to Jimmy. It’s uncomfortably quiet. Oli is about to make another quip when the silence is broken.

“Oli? What on earth are you doing here?”

If Oli thought seeing Jimmy messed with his head, hearing Lizzie calling out for him is like a shot to the brain. Even so, he can’t help but smile as he turns around to meet her.

“Lizzie!”

She runs up the hill towards him, slightly out of breath, transparent wings twitching in an all too familiar way. She pauses a few paces away, shooting him a grin.

“I knew those stupid snails sounded familiar. Joel recognized you first. How did you even get here?”

Pretending the mention of Joel doesn’t make him want to explode, Oli just shrugs. “Grian invited me. Voiced some snails, made some songs, and thought I’d come by and cause problems before he kicks me out again.”

Lizzie rolls her eyes. “To be honest, I’m surprised he hasn’t.”

“Well, I am technically God now, so…”

“Is that right.” Smoothing out her dress, Lizzie moves closer, forming a small triangle with the three of them. Jimmy still looks befuddled and Lizzie has that same mischievous glint in her eyes she always does, and Oli is suddenly very homesick. Is that even the right word? Home is where the heart is, or something.

“Yep! 100%, genuine, certified, bona fide God. Can’t die, and my snails wreaked havoc like none other.”

“You’ve got me there.”

“So,” Oli claps his hands together. “This is your guys’s base? Very cherry-esque. Draw inspiration from anyone?”

Lizzie puts her hands on her hips. “Hey! Pink has been my thing since we were kids. Cherry biomes were made for me. I’ve been making cherry wood houses since before your stupid hog.”

“How dare you!” Oli gasps, putting a hand over his chest. “My hog was not stupid, he was magnificent. And pink was my thing too! I had pink hair for a while there, remember?”

“Yeah, cause of me! I’m the only reason you dye your hair at all! And besides, you don’t even die it pink anymore after-”

Lizzie cuts herself off suddenly, eyes wide, and Oli freezes in place. Jimmy looks taken aback by the sudden tension, looking nervously between the two of them.

After what feels like years, Oli exhales. “… Yeah. Alright. Pink is your thing.”

“Oli…”

Oli turns around suddenly, walking purposefully towards the large birds marking the front of their base. He adjusts the little green halo floating just above his hair, which is notably not pink. “These are cute.”

Lizzie, forever hyperaware of Oli’s incessant need to avoid his problems, just sighs. “Aren’t they?”

And just like that, it never even happened. Jimmy eventually realizes he’s never getting any answers, and joins in the banter, helping Lizzie take Oli on an official tour of their base. Eventually Scar returns, resulting in a 20 minute long argument that ends with Lizzie half dragging Oli down the hill and towards the cave BAM has claimed as their own. Lizzie bitterly shows him where her snail first made an attempt on her life, and Oli’s apology is ruined by the fact that he can’t stop snickering.

Eventually Lizzie drags him back up to the surface, and all too fast for Oli’s liking it’s nightfall. Scar unhelpfully comments that they’ll need their sleep to deal with whatever horrors will happen next session, and that Grian will probably be on Oli’s case soon.

Reluctantly, Oli says his goodbyes. And if he hugs Lizzie just a little too long, she doesn’t comment on it. And if his heart isn’t quite in the jokes he makes at Jimmy’s expense, no one says anything.

He doesn’t really know where he’s going. He’s not entirely sure how he got there at all, to be honest. He supposes he’ll have to track down Grian and ask. He doesn’t want to leave, he’s getting awfully tired of finally finding his friends just to lose them again.

Maybe Grian will add him to the next season.

[i-smoke-chapstick]

Request: I'm already back for more. As l've already told you I love your interpretation of a reader with dwarfism and since you are okay with me requesting more, can I get multiple headcanons of Gotham!Rogues x Dwarf!reader with just either simply day to day headcanons or their first reaction to meeting/seeing them? Rogues including jervis(obv Imao), Jerome, Oswald, Victor fries, Zsasz, and ra's al ghul!

The plot can be the reader being similar to the Cheshire Cat or Nightcrawler when it comes to teleportation powers. They're friends with Barbara, Selina, and Tabitha. The rogues always see photos on them on the news, newspapers, and sometimes in person but if they even get caught staring, reader teleports themself and whoever they're with away, so they don't really get a chance to talk or know them.

Like last time, only write this if you're okay with it and I'll understand if you can't or just don't want too!

Thank you tons again! - anon

‘VOULEZ-VOUS,

-GOTHAM VILLIANS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Jervis Tetch, Jerome Valeska, Oswald Cobblepot, Victor Fries, Victor Zsasz, Ra's Al Ghul

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; gotham villians with a cheshire cat!reader who has dwarfism!

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!villains x female reader. FLUFF! I love readers power SOSOSOSO much! Super creative <3 Also villians being whipped for reader just cuz they can. Protective Tabitha. REALLY protective Oswald. Jerome's a bit insensitive. Victor Zsasz is not immune to a pretty girls smile. Have never written for Victor Fries or Ra's, so fingers crossed their parts aren’t too bad! Ra’s and Fries parts got a little angsty

𝐽𝐸𝑅𝑉𝐼𝑆 𝑇𝐸𝑇𝐶𝐻

♫ “Across the room, your eyes are glowin' in the dark." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

Oh, the man is completely enthralled with you. How could he not be? You're the missing piece to his wonderland puzzle.

Similarly to Alice, he believes your powers go hand and hand with each other. He rules the mind, while you have complete control of your body. His first thought when he see's you in the newspaper is simple.

He must have you.

He will do anything it takes to track you down. He finds himself becoming more and more entranced with the prospect of you working with him, partners in crime, connected body and soul. Of course those feelings of admiration become obsession.

Before you know it, the man is going lengths to find you; just like how he was with Alice. Hiring Jim Gordon as a bounty hunter? Mayhaps...

When he finally finds you at the siren's club, he can't help but be in awe. You're so small, so fragile, so unique. He wants to kiss your flattened cheekbones that look like pure porcelain. Your his doll.

"My dear, Y/N!" He's calling when he finds you, his teeth spread into a wide grin. He finds your eyes quickly turning to meet his gaze, glowing underneath the club's light. His shadow towers over you.

"You look ravishing, I must admi-" He goes to speak, just before you disappear from thin air. His mouth is open for a few moments, eyebrows scrunched.

Where did his precious little Cheshire Cat go?

Oh yeah, he's pouting. He's never been a fan of the disappearing act. But he doesn't mind. He's determined. He's played this game with Alice for far too long, he will not take no for an answer.

You'll find notes, gifts, flowers, dresses tailored to your sizing. All perfectly crafted from Gotham's most professional hypnotized seamstresses or florists.

Barbara is smirking when she finds the gifts, cackling about how sweet small little Y/N has a loony admirer. Tabitha's less than pleased, throwing out any bouquet she finds before you see them. Selina agrees, the guy's a freak.

It's up to you if you want to give him a chance <3 He would be the most devoted lover and partner if you decided too...if not a bit overly infatuated.

𝐽𝐸𝑅𝛰𝑀𝐸 𝑉𝐴𝐿𝐸𝑆𝐾𝐴

♫ “Nothing promised, no regrets." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

Uh oh! Murderous clown on the loose, and he's also 100% fixated, just like a certain hatter.

Jerome brushes you off at first, don't get him wrong, he adores your work on the city. Nothing he loves more than seeing some horribles destroy Gotham! He's a fan, if you could call him that.

It takes him some time to warm up to the idea of being whipped. But once he is, you have him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

Similar to Jervis- he can't help himself. You're powerful. You're strange. You're a freak just like him and the rest of these bad boys in Gotham! You remind him of the circus, all different shapes and sizes of people around him. You belong with him. By his side. On his side. Maybe sitting in his lap... What?

Yeah, he's not sure where that came from either. But hey, he's not complaining! He likes to think he's a bachelor, a young beau waiting for his turn in the love game! Before he knows it, he's slicking his hair back, putting on his finest and most colorful suits, and making sure his face is stapled all the way. Then he's getting his cult to crash the Siren's club. Moment of silence for Tabitha who will have to clean it up after.

The place is a shit show, people in makeup dancing wildly and giggling manically. Tabitha, Barbra, Selina and you get tied up in the confusion. It's hard to fight back against a bunch of crazies when your expensive alcohol is being thrown at walls, and you four are simultaneously tied up together in one big rope. Barbra's throwing a bit of a hissy fit.

Everyone is quiet when Jerome enters, dressed to the nines, with a loud and boisterous,

"Hey gorgeous! I'm sure you've heard of me," He speaks, bending down to your level, invading your personal space. He goes to continue, until the four of you evaporate before him. Teleported away. He's left staring at the loose ropes, smile unchanged- but eyes widened in surprise.

Oh. Okay. So that's how it's gonna be. Alright.

Jerome loves a game of cat and mouse.

He craves attention. He loves the center stage, and he will not be ignored. No no no no.

He will not leave your club alone until you confront him. Yeah, sorry Babs and Tabs. Barbara will start urging you to just "sleep with the damn clown!" while Tabitha is trying desperately to not have you anywhere near that creep.

But the club isn't all he'll do, doll! No, he'll get his cult to do more and more mass murders and sprees across the city, each one broadcasted on live television. Each time, he looks into the camera, blood on his face, professing his undying love.

"This is for you, Y/N!" He's showcasing the violence around, "Call me!" He gestures, ending the broadcast abruptly.

Well, kind of hard to ignore a man when your club is in shambles, Barbara is going batshit insane, AND you have Jim Gordon trying to find you; just in order to stop these massacres around the city in your honor.

Once again, you should give the man a chance! He doesn't think he'd make a horrible boyfriend, y'know, if you're into gingers.

𝛰𝑆𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐷 𝐶𝛰𝐵𝐵𝐿𝐸𝑃𝛰𝑇

♫ “Take it now or leave it." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

Ozzie's a bit harder to gauge, because I don't think he'd become infatuated with someone unless he got to meet them first. So for arguments sake, we are just going to say you two have meet previously on many occasions! Specifically when he's had some bad blood with Barbara and Tabitha.

At first, he detests you. He thinks you're a nuisance, and a powerful tool for the Siren's. You can escape from ANYONES grasp, and take them with you. His nose is scrunching up every time he thinks of just how he can get rid of you.

Well, if he can't get rid of you, he's well versed in manipulation. Perhaps he can convince you to join his team.

You're going about your day at the club, tending bar on a step stool, the usual. Oswald comes in, Victor trailing behind him. Tabitha and Barbara are instantly on alert.

"Hello." Oswald fixes his suit jacket, rolling his cane in his fingertips. He wears a faux smile, and Tabitha huffs.

"What can we help you with, Ozzie?" Barbara is smiling, just as fake as his. It's a weird Gotham crime boss stand-off.

"I was wondering if you, my dear," He speaks, suddenly nodding down to you, "Would like to accompany me for lunch tomorrow."

Yeah, everyone's jaws drop, including Oswald's at the silence. Oswald didn't necessarily intend for it to sound like he was trying to ask you on a date. He's flushing red under everyone's gaze, suddenly fidgeting. If you look closely, Victor's giving a lazy amused smirk in the back.

"Like hell-" Tabitha's about to answer for you, before you squint at the man.

"Sure." You scan him up and down, hesitantly. Before anyone has a chance to speak, Oswald's turning on his heel.

"Wonderful! 2:00 sharp. Don't be late." He's smiling, knowing he's got a one-up on the Siren's.

...Well, leave it Oz to have things never work out quite his way. One lunch turns into two, and two turns into three. He's forcing himself to remember why he's doing this; you are just a tool. This is all a charade!

Hard to focus though, when you two seem to enjoy one another's company. Like when you show him what it feels like to teleport, (He's closing his eyes in fear, only for it to feel like nothing.) Or when you two have a strangely intimate discussion about what it was like growing up not very normal.

He's opening up about his schoolyard bullies, about his mother. About the feeling of being taunted, teased for his nose or height. You tell him, you know the feeling.

He stares at you, eyes focused solely on you. He's enamored.

He turns viciously protective over you. Any snide comment made towards you by a henchman of his, or a frequent at the Siren's club, they are brutally stabbed to death, a bit impulsively, with a bottle shard.

When he realizes he's falling in love with you, similar to Jervis, he likes doing grand gestures to get your attention. If there's anything you desire, you'll get it. Which is why when he finds out you're avoiding him, he becomes sour.

What? Why are you leaving him? He doesn't understand. The intimacies you two have shared, did they mean nothing to you? He's hurt, he's angry, he's aggressive. He's more irritable than usual; and judging from the fact he's irritable ALL the time, it's pretty bad. If you don't explain yourself, this sadness will probably turn into anger. He already believes you two have some weird pseudo-romantic relationship, so he's taking this like a break-up. He's a vengeful ex.

Whenever he stops by the Siren's club, and sees you teleport away at the sight of him, it stings. It all comes to a head when he's breaking down in his mansion. You will have to be the one to confront him, because he'll be too busy sulking. He loves you. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. If you don't want to talk to him, he won't force you, even if he's going crazy trying to figure out why.

When he sees you, he's standing up in a hurry, fumbling over his words, sniffling. His blue-green eyes are puffy, and you'll have to sigh and talk to him.

Please, tell him why your avoiding him. Explain if you're insecure, if you're scared of loving. He'll be thankful for the explanation. He'll be angry on your behalf for anyone who made you believe you were unloved, whether for your dwarfism or your powers. He's promising to kill for you, tear down the city to avenge you.

"Okay, Oz, I'm not dead yet."

"Yet?!"

Cuties <3

𝑉𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑆

♫ “Now is all we get." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

Forgive him, he’s trying his hardest not to care, and failing miserably.

Similarly to Ozzie, I can’t see him becoming infatuated or obsessed like Jerome and Jervis so quickly, not since what happened with Nora. So, I’m imagining you’ve also met him once or twice; using your powers for the sirens, just like he and firefly have done some hitjobs for you four in the past.

He’s in love with the idea of having a family; of being accepted, of leaving this life behind. It’s made him bitter, cold; but the man will do anything for love. Anything.

And it’s hard not to notice the small woman running around on her toes in the club, parts of her body vanishing here and there. You’re gorgeous to him. Those small cheshire-like smiles you send him when he’s supposed to be working. They break his hard exterior. He doesn’t know if he loves or hates it. He loves it.

Even a small pit of jealousy fills him, whenever he sees you in the news. Or when he watches silently on the sidelines, while you talk with Barbara and Tabitha and Selina. You do it so effortlessly. How could anyone not be entranced by you?

He thinks that he’s a freak. Firefly’s a freak. Just like Jerome and Oz, he definitely finds solace in the idea you are just like him. You’re one of them; a freak. Pushed out by Gotham’s careless inhabitants, forced into this life. He remembers being driven out of town by Penguins army. He wonders if you’ve expirenced the same treatment at one point in your life. He wants to show you, he’s here for you. He loves you, every part of you. No matter how unconvential or mistreated. He just wants to take care of you.

Just like Oz, he’ll be ready to kill anyone for you. Freeze em’ to death in one single sweep. Just give him the go ahead.

Victor is terrified of hurting you, as well. Not only your tiny stature, but he’s sure he’d get ice burns from his fingertips. He imagines a life where it’s just the two of you, without the cold, back when he was just himself. He dreams of cooking for you. Owning an apartment. Even having a family. He swears, he’d be gentle. But he’s too uncertain. He isn’t good enough, and he certainly isn’t good for you.

You’ll have to be the first person to talk to him, warm up to him. He might not state it directly, other than a nonchalant nod here and there, but it makes him feel special. It’s the little interactions you two have that make him fall helmet over heels.

You two will spend hours, at the club, watching from the sidelines. Barbara and Tabitha out on business, Selina doing…Selina things. You’ll poke fun at the passerby’s to get a reaction out of him.

“Oh god, I just saw that guy kissing that girl- what’s he doing with that other chick?…Oh- they are making out. Oh, okay, he’s taking him to the back. I’ll give you $20 if Barbara kills this guy for doing it on her desk.” You’re snickering, gossiping. Every now and then you look over at him to see him already staring at you, the hint of a smile on his lips. It’s all you’ll get for now…until he responds.

“…Guess you’ll owe me $20 then.” He’s firing back, voice low. It’s the first time he’s spoken. The first time you’ve seen him do something other than brooding. It’s sweet.

These little things will become routine, and he’ll find solace in them. Eventually you’ll even play some tricks with your teleportation on the clubs costomers, scaring them, bumping into them. All the while you’re watching him in the corner, smiling, exhaling through his nose. He playfully scolds you sometimes, other times he chuckles. Either way, it’s a sight to see.

God, please don’t dissapear on this man. I don’t think he could take it. Gotham be damned, if you ever find yourself scared of him, he’d be broken. He’d think it was his fault, he’d think he lost his second chance at love. If you ran away from him, he might just up and leave Gotham.

But even if you did try to avoid him for awhile, I think he’d let you go without a fight. He’d just be more sulky than usual, more prone to picking petty fights with Firefly. You might find the room uncomfortably cold, even when he’s not occupying it. (He froze the AC to the club, he was upset. Sorry Barbara.)

I think he’s the only one on this list of characters that Barbara, Tabitha, and Selina might all actively approve of. Barbara wouldn’t mind having a henchman dating her bestie; soldifies his loyalty to them. Also, he’s good eye-candy. Tabitha doesn’t have any personal issue with the man, other than previously working with Penguin, of course. Selina will still make fun of him for being a walking freezer, but hey, what can you do. You have their blessing.

If you caught him before he decided to up and leave, explain to him why you run away, why you’ve been avoiding him. He won’t just understand, he’ll practically worship you. He’ll explain himself too, why he’s terrified of touching you. It’s not because of your dwarfism, or your powers. It’s just how he’s afraid of hurting or loosing you. Loving people is hard.

If he could cry, he would. But his tears will freeze when they touch his cheek. You’ll have to show him you aren’t fragile. He’ll believe you.

You guys can heal eachother.

𝑉𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝑍𝑆𝐴𝑆𝑍

♫ “The girl means business, so I'll offer her a drink." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

THIS Victor, on the other hand, is much more brash in his approaches to courting you.

He’s heard about you on the radio, from his boss, seen you in the newspapers, on the tv, watched you from the window in your apartment.

…What? Who said that?

He studies your every move. The man is calculated in his methods, what can he say? He’s not obsessed! (loud incorrect buzzer)

He just wants to size you up a little, see who the newest danger is in Gotham. He’ll convince himself he’s doing it for his boss, whether it be Falcone or Penguin. But it definitely goes deeper.

Unlike the other villians on this list that see your dwarfism as something to empathize with, Victor doesn’t really pay it any mind. He’s been around the block a few times- he’s been with women of all ages, heights, race, etc. The man really doesn’t have a type. What he’s attracted to is strength, independence, someone who will laugh at his dry humor with him. He’s stalked you at the club. He sees the way you banter with Tabitha and Selina, the way you make Barbara dissapear when she’s being too annoying with a flick of your wrist.

He’s incredibly attracted to a woman whose witty and good at what they do. Just like him.

Victor’s more subtle in his approach. He’ll make it casual.

So when you’re at the bar in the club, sitting around, watching the passerby’s, he’ll make his move.

“Now, what’s a girl like you doing here, alone?” He sneaks up behind you, giving you a start. You flush red at the man in front of you. Victor Zsasz. The words are spoken as he drums his fingers on the bar, cocking his head at your short frame. He towers over you, caging you in.

When you don’t speak, it doesn’t phase him. You’re about to teleport away in an instant, until he drawls your attention back to him with a lazy smile.

“So…” He whistles. “What’s your drink of choice? Wait- Let me guess.” The man doesn’t stop talking, listing off drinks that are most definitely not your drink of choice.

He watches you all the time. He knows exactly what your favorite drink is. But he wants you to stay.

It’s a bit awkward, a bit intimidating, and strangely charming. He speaks with an inflection that borders on sarcasm and curiosity. It’s intriguing, coming from Gotham’s most dangerous hitman.

“Can I ask-“ You squeak, now nursing a drink he ordered for you. It’s a Vodka Cran, and it could be worse. “…Is there a hit on me?”

He stares at you expressionless for uncomfortably long, before it forms into something quizzical.

“…Nah,” His voice is slow. He clicks his tongue. “Just an admirer.”

There’s an awkward scilence. He shrugs.

“Y’know. I’m a big fan of this place. Like the ambience.” He sips his own drink, you don’t know what it is. Just as his words sound out, you swear you can overhear a gunshot in the distance, probably from Barbara’s meeting with some other underground boss. Somehow, the sentiment makes you laugh.

He perks up at the sound.

You aren’t used to this. Someone being so casual about you, your powers, your small stature. He’s a bit flirty from time to time, but between the alcohol and his quips, you don’t seem to mind. He seems oddly genuine in his demeanor with every compliment or joke that slips.

You two keep the banter going for the rest of the night. Mostly chatting about how tiring your respective bosses can be. He does a poor drunken impression of Penguin, and you do one of Barbara. It’s a relaxing night in comparison to what you usually expirence living in Gotham.

You think you only see him every so often. Coming by the club whenever Penguin comes, or when a job is sent out, and his target is there. He’ll always send you a wink when he leaves, blood on his face.

But he sees you every day.

Yeah, the stalking only worsens. If you find your phone in different places throughout the day, or your window reopened, he’s the reason why.

He’s fine like this. In his head, the two of you are going steady. He’s pretty committed. You’re his girl, and that’s that.

Until you start avoiding him like the plague.

Zsasz WILL find a way to confront you. He doesn’t care if you teleport away each and everytime. He’ll find a way to get the message clear, through other means.

If you find a “talk to me.” with a smiley face, written with some poor saps blood, on your mirror, I apologize. He’s gotta get the message sent somehow.

Yeah, he won’t give up. He’ll go great lengths to get you two back together. He’s also listening to disco break-up ballads to cope. He’s getting the zsaszettes to stalk you when he can’t. If you still won’t budge, yeah, Tabitha might end up with a gun pointed at her head until you talk to him.

He’s not necessarily angry, but chasing after you is certainly taking a toll on him. Give the guy some credit.

Tabitha, still with a gun pointed at her, will be barking at you to not talk to him. He’s a creep, he’s an asshole, and you shouldn’t compromise your honor! (His eye will twitch at her words, trigger finger itching.)

Up to you what you decide to do! Explain the situation, talk to him, make things official, or…bye bye Tabitha. And that still won’t stop him. He doesn’t take rejection very seriously.

When you tell him exactly why you teleport yourself away, he’s the only one on this list who might think it’s stupid. He’ll understand, don’t get me wrong, but this is Gotham! Why would you be insecure? He garuntees you he’s met at least ten other people with far worse skeletons in their closet. You’ll have to teach him that’s not the issue.

Yeah, our little sociopath has a hard time with feelings. But I think you two would maybe be good for eachother! Teach him to listen more, whip him up into shape, and reap the benefits of having Gotham’s number one hitman as your personal bodyguard and lover. He’ll take you to stakeouts, make fun of Jim Gordon, crash your place. You two can watch Netflix under the blankets. He loves your size- cuddling into you like his own personal pillow.

Tabitha’s very dissapointed.

𝑅𝐴’𝑆 𝐴𝐿 𝐺𝐻𝑈𝐿

♫ “I'm really glad you came, you know the stars, you know the game.” Voulez-Vous by ABBA

May god have mercy on your soul, reader. Ra’s is a sight to behold when he’s in love.

He heard whispers of your name all around Gotham. He sees you on the news when he’s absentmindedly listening. A girl who can teleport herself and others, to any location? Even the power to control which body parts you maneuver. Extrodinary.

He’s immeadiatley infatuated with your power. He wants to covet you. Possess you. Have you close to him. He needs to see your power for himself.

He’s similarly calculated in his response to tracking you down. He will appear at the club, slinking into the shadows, whispering a quaint,

“Hello.”

It makes you jump, and as if on instinct, you teleport yourself away. He marvels at the way in which you do so right infront of his eyes. How rare it is, for him to be so easily confounded.

He must see you again.

You’ll feel his presence every now and then. Maybe even catch a glimpse of him watching you. You’ll turn back, eyes squinted, only to find he’s not there anymore. It confuses you just the same.

Though, you eventually get used to him watching. It turns into a little game between the two of you. If he can catch you, if you can catch him. It’s strangely endearing.

He’s also becoming increasingly more attentive to your daily habits. He memorizes your schedule. He sends members of the League of Shadows to observe you, to take notes on how you use your powers.

If any member insults you, or pokes fun at your dwarfism, Ra’s will spare them no mercy. Yeah…he’s making it a big deal. He’s ruthlessly insulting them for their ignorance, before killing them without a second thought. In a way, you belong to Ra’s already. He will not stand for disrespect among his order.

Ra’s is a gentleman. Just like Ozzie and Jervis, you’ll find gifts littered around your apartment. Little notes from him, written in the most exquisite cursive, expressing his admiration of you. Beautiful, rare, and expensive jewelry, tailored to the size of your wrists and neck.

You’ll see him exiting Barbara’s office sometimes, when he needs her for the demons head. He’ll send you a smile, half-way gentle, half-way playful. He’s unsure where the lines between love and facination blur; but he’s slowly realizing he loves you. He hasn’t felt such a way in decades. He’s been alive for very very long. No human woman has made him feel so helpless. He enjoys it thoroughly.

He’ll confess, the night before Gotham is meant to be blown to the ground. He’ll turn up, before the events are set in motion. You won’t have a clue in the world what he’s up to.

“My dear.” He’ll drawl, and you’ll go to teleport away, as you always do. It’s tradition for you two at this point.

Before you get a chance, he’ll click is tongue at you.

“Wait.” He speaks, voice sounding strangely desperate. It makes you freeze. “Come with me. Leave the city. Get somewhere else. I’d like to show you my home.”

Your choice, if you choose to leave with him. He’d make for a very attentive lover, and would protect you at any cost. But if you choose to do so, you’ll leave Tabitha and Barbara and Selina to their own fate <\3

Not that it matters if you decide to reject his offer. He’ll have you, one way or another.

[strangersteddierthings]

Wiggly-Worm Wednesdayyyy 🧠🪱

It's wiggly Wednesday again - time to share a recent brainworm and tag your friends to do the same!

I got tagged by the absolutely wonderful @carolperkinsexgirlfriend! Thanks Koko! I have so many brain worms happening all the time always and I never like... just open a new post and chat about it.

Anyways, current brain worm is that Steve engages in Eddie's hobbies in fic all the time, but we don't see many fic where it's the other way around. So, like the nebulous fic idea in my brain is the traditional start - Steve wants Eddie to do something jockish and Eddie doesn't want to. They fight about it, and Steve's like "I never get to do the things I like because we always have to do the things you like" and Eddie, defensive asshole that he is, says "then do the things you like without me! Why do I have to be involved?" and Steve looks like Eddie's just slapped him. Eddie doesn't feel very great about this argument anymore, but they end on an 'agreement' that Eddie thinks is okay: neither of them will engage in a hobby that they, themselves, don't actually participate in and just do things together they both like.

This seems fine until it's been like 2 weeks and Eddie's seen his boyfriend only twice without having another person (or several people) around as well. Fic would go into detail about when Eddie has and hasn't seen Steve and he feels sad about missing him but Eddie's a dumb boy in his first ever relationship so he doesn't know how to deal with that emotion, so he just gets mad and, again, defensive.

Something something confrontation where Eddie asks if they should even be together because Steve doesn't want to be around him and Steve has to be like "you told me not to! It was your fucking line drawn in the sand! I do want to come listen to your practice, and I do want to watch you obliterate Mike's character for the millionth time, but you said if I didn't participate, I couldn't go. So, I didn't. And I wanted you to come do things with me, but you don't 'participate' in my hobbies, so I didn't bother to ask you."

And Eddie learns that Steve's just been hanging out with Robin and Lucas a lot, going for hikes, or playing basketball, or some other jock activity, and that Steve's spent more time with his uncle and Jim fucking Hopper because they watch sports on the TV together.

Fic ends with them talking it out, Steve confessing that he was worried that Eddie not liking any of his hobbies was just the first step to Eddie realizing that he doesn't even actually like Steve. They work it all out, end on a happy note with maybe Eddie joining Steve and Wayne the next time they watch a game on TV because he doesn't have to like [insert sport here] to enjoy the chance to snuggle his boyfriend on a couch.

I'm gonna write the fic one of these day, but until then enjoy this lil look at it!

No pressure tags: @skepsiss @afewproblems @rebelspykatie @nburkhardt @i-less-than-three-you and anyone who wants to do this!

[schmergo]

I really enjoy listening to podcast episodes that maybe fall slightly to the side of "true crime" and more into the realm of "dark history" or "scary true stories" (like, it's not really true crime if a lion eats a bunch of people because there are no laws for lions), but every time I start enjoying a podcast, I always feel smacked in the face several episodes in by weird instances of the podcasters' lack of general historical knowledge or context. It makes me trust their interpretation of events much less.

Obviously I do not expect the lady podcasting about wilderness survival stories to have a PhD in history, but a few of the missing bits of knowledge that have shocked me lately have included:

* Thinking Ebenezer Scrooge was a real historical figure (possibly getting him mixed up with Charles Dickens?)

* Not being sure which side of the Civil War Ulysses S. Grant was on, had to look him up

* Knowing Thomas Edison was a famous inventor but not being able to think of any of his inventions (and quit your yapping about how he didn't REALLY invent those things-- you know what I mean)

* Calling 18th century England "Victorian times"

Now, are these the most important things for human beings to know? Not necessarily. But I do think that not having that greater context for a historical or nature-based tale that you're researching is going to limit your insight into what you're talking about. And I think part of what shocks me about these podcasters' confusion is that sure, a lot of people don't pay attention in history class and don't need to know this stuff in daily life, but these people are presumably intellectually curious and enjoy learning if they're researching and writing these detailed episodes every week.

And you can say, "Well, they didn't go to college for history, they have real jobs besides podcasting," but these are all things I was taught in elementary school. I have to wonder about their actual educations. This leads me to my next point...

I stumbled across some internet threads recently where teachers talk about how they no longer teach history or social studies at the elementary school level because they don't have time in the day while trying to get kids caught up on language arts and math and science. There's no standardized testing for history and many schools seem to have done away with it or made it optional.

That certainly wasn't the case for my educational experience-- many of my strongest memories of elementary school include history projects and units and even performing historical-based musicals! But going into high school and later adulthood without any elementary basis in history is actually going to really affect reading comprehension and critical thinking in shocking ways. Imagine having to read To Kill a Mockingbird in high school without having ever learned about segregation or Jim Crow laws. No matter how many hours your class spent on preparing for standardized testing in reading comprehension, you will NEVER fully understand that text without understanding the context.

Knowing that these podcasters that I listen to are adults who are presumably interested in history (albeit mainly history where someone dies, but to be fair, that is a good chunk of history because most of the people who have ever lived are in fact dead), I can't help but wonder and worry about what it will look like when the next generation of entertainment in this vein is taken over by people who NEVER took history classes in school, or at least no history classes in elementary school. What important context will be missing from these tales, and who will even notice that it's missing?

Have you noticed any instances of this in your own life that made your jaw drop a bit? Have you personally encountered schools no longer teaching history?

[wesraconteur]

Some writing for my au thing, takes place about 2 years after the rancher comic I made for it. Basically, how the bamboozlers met in this au! Complete with seablings angst

Kinda lore heavy and also vague so if u have questions please ask! I love talking about this world I made :>

The night air was cold and crisp this time of year, but the icy jaws of the temperature never bit through the thick fur coat, even though it was but only slung around her shoulders.

It had been so long since Lizzie had put that coat on all the way.

There was no point in being out here, really. Joel had gone to bed long ago, but Lizzie just wanted a few more minutes to sit by the scrap of coastline inside the Border.

Always just a few more minutes.

The ocean was out there. The pod was out there.

Stars shone above, and the moon illuminated the waves perfectly. The night should be beautiful. But it was so easy to see the faint geometric pattern, revealing exactly where the Border sat, where Lizzie could not go beyond.

And then there was a sound from behind her, two things running through the long grass separating sand from dirt. Turning her head quickly, it was Jimmy, chasing some animal from his ranch.

In just a few moments, something like a rabbit was right next to Lizzie, and jumped into her arms.

Poor little wolpertinger. It must have seen the ocean and known, suddenly and fearfully, there was nowhere to go.

And she could get behind why it was running.

Being trapped, even with everything you needed, wasn’t the life they wanted. Even if they could find a way to leave, it would be for nothing.

Nothing, except a few more moments in the ocean. A few more moments in her real skin.

She didn’t think about freedom that much.

And she thought about it every day.

At last, though, Jimmy got to her, panting and clearly shivering from the cold.

He had always liked to leave his coat at home, hadn’t he?

“Oh, good, you caught her.” Jimmy put his hands on his knees to recover some breath, before standing back up. “Little bugger is always trying to be where you are, huh?” He tried to laugh, but it was strained, for reasons other than simply being out of breath.

“Lizzie.”

Their eyes met, and it was all she could do to not cry. Jimmy knew why she was out here. He knew better than anyone.

Still, he asked.

“It’s pretty late to be out. And cold.”

“I just… I like to see it sometimes. Home.” Her voice broke on the last word.

“I know. I know.” Jimmy hugged her, and Lizzie knew he did. He was the only one who knew exactly how she was feeling.

“They can’t keep us here forever. Before you know it, we’ll be seeing mum and dad for the holidays!” His laugh was empty, but Lizzie appreciated the effort.

“I miss them.”

“So do I.”

It was like she was back on that train all over again. Younger, so much younger, doing all she could to stay looking strong. Her little brother needed her. So she held both their coats in one arm, and held little Jimmy’s hand with the other, and stayed up on the whole two day journey to watch over him while he slept.

Everything was so different now. Hard to believe Jimmy had ever gotten so tall.

Hard to believe she’d let herself cry in front of her little brother.

Lizzie took a shaky breath and stepped back, wiping the tears from her face and handing Jimmy back the little wolpertinger in her arms.

“I suppose it’s time for bed.” She finally said.

“I suppose so.” Jimmy turned away to leave, but paused, and looked back. “Let me know if you ever need me. The pod looks out for each other, yeah? You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

“Thank you, Jim. Goodnight.”

They both walked back up to the long grass together, but just before they parted ways, a train whistle sounded in the distance.

The Border pulled apart like a shining curtain to reveal the steam engine, just in the process of slowing to a stop at the station.

How odd. No trains were scheduled for today, and never this late.

“Should we… should we check it out?” Jimmy asked.

“... Yes. If someone’s on there, I don’t want them lost.” Not like us went unsaid.

The walk to the station was quiet.

The building of the station itself was beautiful, but foreboding. Lizzie had done this before, but in such different circumstances.

No security was needed here anymore. After the town system was implemented, They had made sure magic did all the work of security.

How odd, how that was fine, but being able to turn into a seal was not.

Inside the station, nobody was there.

The train had pulled up to the only platform, and Jimmy and Lizzie were able to see the moment the doors opened.

To an empty train.

… For a few moments.

After an odd and agonizing minute, one man stepped out of the train.

Alarmingly, he was covered in scars. His ears were pointed, and his clothes were grayish blue, meaning he was likely a vex.

He looked around, seemingly confused, before spotting Jimmy and Lizzie. He walked toward them immediately, never going back into the train for any bags. Perhaps he didn’t bring anything, which meant he’d have to go to the Head Mage tonight for rations.

“Hello!” Lizzie said once the main was close enough. “Do you speak Common?”

She remembered when she and Jimmy had gotten off that same train, not speaking any Common at all. It was difficult and confusing to know what to do, though some adults aboard had translated for them once they figured out that the siblings only spoke Northern Oceanic.

“Er… yes!” The man said with a grin. How out of place. Nobody came here under good circumstances.

“You just got here, yes? If you don’t have any luggage, we can take you to the Head Mage for registration.” Lizzie continued to explain, while Jimmy nodded along.

“Sounds good! I… I don’t think I have anything.”

While Lizzie led them all out of the train station and towards the Mage’s observatory, Jimmy talked a bit to the strange man.

“I’m Jimmy, and that’s my sister Lizzie. We’ve lived here for a while. What’s your name?”

The man paused, before answering.

“I have no idea!” This made both Lizzie and Jimmy pause.

“Er- that’s… be sure to tell the Mage about that. He can probably help.” Jimmy said.

“For now, how about we come up with a name for you?” Lizzie suggested.

The man thought for a moment, before nodding.

“That makes sense.”

“We’ll call you… Scar?”

Lizzie swatted Jimmy on the arm. “Oh, come on, that’s not a good name!”

“I like it!”

“See? He likes it! It’s fine.”

“Ugh.”

It was going to be a long walk to the observatory for Lizzie.

[fullofpossibilities]

Adopted Au Headcannons for R!Leo

So this is very heavily based off of the Adopted Mikey Au and the Adopted Donnie Au done by @tblsomedoodles so if you don't know the basics that would be a great place to start. (They also gave me permission to write these headcannons to thank you again!!!!).

Basically, I was at work, and absently thinking about their Adopted Aus, and thought, "who would adopt R!Leo (otherwise listed as Blue) if he went missing in another dimension?" And first some reason the first person that popped into my head was 2012 Donatello, so this is that train wreck.

Keep in mind that Blue is, like, 3-4 yr. old in this au, and happened to get sent to the 2012 universe after being attacked in the sewers of his own dimension and doesn't go back to his home dimension until right before the Rise show starts.

Purple is R!Leo's comfort color (since it reminds him of his twin) so I can see Donnie being the first person he would latch onto.

-It helps that the reason Blue is in this universe would be a highly coincidentally timed portal on 2012 Donnie's end that transported both Leo and the mutant attacking him to the sewers nearby

Donnie goes to investigate the energy surge that happened during the fight and finds Blue, saving him from either the mutant that had been attacking him prior to the portal or the krang who might have been the reason for the portal in the first place, haven't decided yet. Donnie takes him home to patch him up, and gets imprinted on by a very lost, confused, and scared Blue who just wants his twin but hey this stranger is wearing Purple's colors so he must nice, right?

Blue obviously gets most of his sense of humor and energy from Uncle Mikey. They love to skateboard together and play pranks, usually involving a lot of messes to clean up. Both get into food competitions, where whoever can throw together the weirdest food combination and eat it without throwing up wins (Donnie always gets upset when they do that though, worried about Blue's health).

Uncle Raph is probably (read definitely) the most protective of the uncles, and even though he isn't the sensei, he still helps teach Blue how to fight. He'll introduce him to Chompy and show him to use the pinball machine, and if anyone accused Raph of going soft he'd slap their head then go get Blue for their scheduled nap (because Blue will only sleep if someone else is there). Blue likes that Raph is so big, because it reminds him of Red (even if Raph is bigger than he remembers Red being), and naps with him are the best (but he'll never tell his dad that). If I do include the fact that Blue gets plushies that remind him of his brothers like @tblsomedoodles did in their au, they were made/knitted by Raph (once again, something he'll never admit, he just claims he found them randomly)

Uncle Leo, of course, is the sensei, but they still interact outside of training. Out of all the uncles, Blue probably looks up to Leo the most, resulting in another "Splinter Junior" situation, but between Leos, and less copy but no less "hero worship." Leo is like the Jupiter Jim or Captain Ryan of Blue's childhood. Leo will introduce Blue to Space Heroes, and the two will spend hours basically fan-boying over the show.

Obviously Blue is closest with his self-assigned dad, Donnie. Donnie is the reason that Blue gets so interested in medical practices and chemistry, and Donnie has a lot of practice (cough Mikey) with grabby hands in the lab, so he knows how to keep an eye on Blue while still working in a way that lets Blue stay in the lab during the day if he wants to. Blue thinks his dad is the coolest guy ever, being able to make whatever he wants (He built such a cool car! and Metalhead was awesome!) and fixing anything that breaks (like his toys). He learns sarcasm by watching his dad talk with Uncle Casey, and boy was that something that Donnie will always regret (second only to the fact that Casey also seemed to be trying to teach Blue how to flirt). (side note: this would be in a universe that did not emphasize a lot of romance. While all of that drama still happened when they were teenagers, the only couple that I MIGHT have as canon in the Au would be Raph/Mona, because it was the only ship that didn't have some kind of problematic background). When Blue decides that his dad hasn't slept enough, he'll go and sit on his lap, and just start to fall asleep. In an effort to make him comfortable, Donnie will try to move him to the bed, and when he tries to go back to work, Blue will latch onto his arm and refuse to let go, forcing him to stay "just until Blue falls asleep." Leo walks in ten minutes later to the father-son duo practically dead to the world on the bed. On the other hand, if Donnie doesn't want to be disturbed by anyone, Blue will make it his personal mission to keep the uncles out of the lab.

It's unclear when exactly Donnie became Blue's "dad," it just happened one day with Blue walking into the room, half-asleep, and asking his dad (by his now new title) if he had seen his blanket/plushies. Donnie, understandably, freaks out internally (and later externally) but can't deny that something in him was both happy and sad: happy because he had grown attached to the little tot; sad because he knew that a time would come when he would have to send him back home (dealing with alternates has left Donnie with the very real realization that this is probably a another little Leo, especially after hearing Blue talk about his brothers). Among the infinite possibilities of universes, though, that would take some time, so maybe it would be ok for the kid to call him that? He'd ask for advice from his brothers and April, and all of them, while equally cautious, would encourage him to let it happen because dangit they're attached too (although Leo would be the most hesitant, with his sense of responsibility).

I'd like to think that Blue learned Spanish by watching tv with April and Casey. Sure, he watches tv with his uncles too, but I can't see them watching anything that might have Spanish in them. I'm imagining that April and Casey were babysiting and both fell asleep with the tv on (thinking Blue was asleep too). Some Spanish drama came on and little Blue fell in love with the accent, so he started trying to copy it. Donnie caught on and set up a system to teach him some of the words instead of just copying the accent (he doesn't know spanish, but there are a lot of learning programs online he can hack into). It becomes a bonding experience between little Blue and the humans, since they take it upon themselves to help him learn whenever they babysit (April being more successful in these lessons than Casey).

Blue was seen as very athletic in Rise!, so I imagine that he fairly enjoys sports. Watching Casey play hockey probably kick started it, which evolved into skateboarding, basketball, baseball, football, etc. He couldn't play all of these a lot, but skateboarding and basketball (or at least shooting hoops) were fairly simple to set up and do constantly. He likes baseball and football simply for the fact that it gives him and excuse to throw a ball and run around a lot, but he doesn't play them often and prefers the other two. His uncles help set up a basketball hoop in the lair for one of his birthdays, and all he did for the next week was shoot hoops.

He thinks April is cool. Leo may be Blue's personal hero, but April is a SUPER hero. She had powers and a cool outfit, and in Blue's mind that's all he needed to label his new favorite aunt as an honest to goodness superhero (followed later by Mikey's alter-ego Turflytle). He's always following her around when she visits the lair and trying to get her to make him "fly."

Instead of the lair being attacked by the mutant/yokai that tried to kidnap and eat Blue, I imagine that the event that triggers Blue's return to his original world involving the Krang. The Krang attacked the lair or there was an attack outside somewhere that Blue snuck out and got stuck in, but a Krang would attempt to drag Blue through the portal to use as bait or leverage, and Blue's ninpo messed with the portal and sent him home (without the Krang for some reason, idk its fanfiction so fanon magic). He returns to the same place where he disappeared in his world, not that he remembers that that is where he left, and instead of Tello or Angie finding him, it would be Raphie (because I'm trying not to be too similar to the original Adopted AU, no more than I already am). The rest of the Rise show continues as normal.

Maybe if I get more inspiration I'll do some headcannons for when R!Leo reconnects with his family in the 12 dimension, but for now this is all I can think of.

[ahotmesswithprivilege]

Save me

edit: Ok. So I posted this before I went to bed and didn't catch that I missed the beginning paragraph of the whole thing 🤦🏻 Now that I woke up and saw it I thought about how to fix it and decided to edit the thing again, delete the old post and post it again in the hopes that I got it right this time around. What do we learn from this, ladies and gentlefolk? Never post something when you have been editing it for hours and your eyes are burning because you are exhausted. Always wait 'til the next day to look at it with fresh eyes and having someone else beta read is never a bad idea. On that note, if someone is interested in helping me post my stuff fully edited as a beta reader, my inbox is wide open and I'd love to hear from you. There is much more in my drafts where this came from including Luca, Deacon, Tan, Hondo and Chris. I am also tagging @zealousdazementality ; @widowssbite ; @ksyn-faith and @randomperson17 who already interacted with the old post so you have the chance to check out the complete thing if you so desire. I know 7k+ words is a lot, so I totally get if you don't, but just wanted to let you know ☺️ Now back to the actual content.

paring: Jim Street x fem!reader (nickname is Carnahan )

wordcount: ca. 7,7k

synopsis: When Street joined SWAT he ran into you on his first day, quite literally. After pulling you back up from the ground he gave you a blinding smile and then hurried over to where the rest of his squad was waiting for him. It was the beginning of what should turn into his favourite part of the day. Not crashing into you, but meeting you, gentle smile, kind heart and all. And he has you wrapped around his little finger before he even utters a word. You learn pretty quickly that he's a flirt and you give as good as you take. It is only a matter of time until your banter turns into something more. A one-time thing you think, considering his reputation but then it happens again and again until he demands space and you give it to him. But sadly like with most things in life, you only realize what you had once it’s gone. A lesson Street believed he already learned countless times before but this time it wasn’t someone else’s fault that he lost someone he cared for. It was his and it broke his heart to know that he had been the one to burn the bridge. Now he has to stand there and watch you from afar, not sure if he'll ever find a way back to you.

note: Yes my dudes (gn) I am still alive and breathing. I know that most people are probably on my blog because of my TGM or Tyler Owens content and I am still working on that, but a new hyperfixation kicked hard and got me out of my writer's block. So here we go. I hope you can enjoy my first attempt at writing for SWAT and if people enjoy I might share more of the roughly 100k words of plot I have for those idiots (very lovingly)

Trigger Warning(If I forgot something or you want me to add to the list, my inbox is wide open. You are responsible for your media consumption, so proceed with caution, you know the drill): non-canon (the timeline is a mess but I don't think it matters much), cursing; themes of SA and non-consensual touch, written by a non-native speaker

|| Masterlist ||

divider by @sweetmelodygraphics banner by @firefly-graphics

Reblogs, comments and constructive criticism are always welcome

!!!Minors do not interact; empty/ageless/minors will get blocked!!!

“How much longer are you planning to just stand there in the corner and watch from the sidelines?”, as well-meaning as he knows his best friend's teasing is, Lucas's words sting. Street knew that he should do something but what Luca did not know was that he had absolutely no right actually to try to ask you to dance with him or do as much as talk to you.

There was a time when you two had been closer and when things got too real for him and too close to what might be perceived as a relationship he pushed you away. Harshly so. “I don’t do relationships”, he can still see the way his words are cutting through you, pain washing over your features that you attempt to hide. 

It’s why he’s standing here on the sidelines clad in his S.W.A.T. uniform while the rest of the team is working the donors. He knows he should too. It’s for a good cause after all but from the moment he saw you move to the dance floor with the crime novelist who had spent most of the evening bewitching you with his italian charm he was way past the point of being able to pretend that he actually cared. 

Street knows that you are only doing this for the kids. You hate being the centre of attention and a woman with your curves gets a lot of that once you are clad in a dress that shows off your assets best. It's why you prefer higher necklines in your day-to-day life. To avoid the staring gazes of men who'd objectify you for your curves once they were done shaming you first. But when it came to getting rich assholes to add a zero or more to a cheque you were willing to go there and it was something he loved about you. Your compassion and kindness that got you so invested in the event in the first place and the strength you possessed to make it through the evening while others talked with your boobs more than you. Putting yourself out there like that took a lot of bravery, he just wished that he could be the one to hold you close, to reassure you that you had at least one man in this room who was covering your six.

“Who would have thought that our girl from archives cleans up so nicely”, he hears a voice from the side and there stands Rogers. A cocky new SWAT Academy recruit with too big an ego for his own good. Street never liked him much, but after this comment, all he wants to do is grab him and beat some sense into that deadhead of his, but Chris is beating him to the punch, quite literally when she rams her fist into his stomach and makes him keel over. 

“Never judge a book by its cover”, she's leaning down to whisper those words into his ear.

“That a S.W.A.T. rule?”, he gets out between gritted teeth, not getting why people made such a fuss about him making a very much harmless joke about you.

“No. It’s called basic human decency”, Deacon throws in as he stares down Rogers. He would make sure that Mumford knew that the guy was no good and he should keep an close eye on him.

Street's focus is already back on you as he sees someone else approaching you on the dancefloor. The guy was tall, looked sharp in his suit that was sure as hell bespoke and the first streaks of grey in his hair placed him in his late thirties. He waits until the song fades out before he moves in and even though Street has zero idea what he says, it looks like he dialed up the charm to eleven. He wasn't sure what it was about the guy but something was off and he didn't just feel like that because he could see how hellbent the guy was on dancing with you.

“And who the fuck let that guy in?”, Chris's voice is tense as she cannot help but stare at the guy right next to you, her words prompting the rest of the squad to look your way too.

“I thought they banned him after last time”, Luca had straightened his back and stood a little taller now.

“So did I”, Tan placed his drink down at the small table they had gathered around while they all stared at the scene unfolding in front of their very own eyes.

“Who’s the guy?”, Street hadn’t been thrilled to see you dance with a guy like that but now with the way the others talked about him, he only felt validated in his feeling that the vibes were off big time.

“Tony Parker. Hollywood big shot. His money is involved in the production of seven out of ten movies in LA”, Tan throws in. That would at least explain why he was invited in the first place.

“He got some serious wandering hands syndrome and if the grapevine is right. It’s more than just hands that wander once he got people behind closed doors”, Chris adds, a shiver running down her spine when she thinks back to the time a couple of years back when he was dancing with her. She had just made S.W.A.T. and he thought he could take advantage of her position. Just fucking gross.

Street’s eyes were glued to you. The longer he was forced to watch you the more obvious it became to him how fucking uncomfortable you were but instead of making a scene the way you absolutely 100% should have all you do is put on a brave face and stay your kind and charming self the way you have all night long. And while Street is watching you like a hawk ready to step in the second the guy oversteps, the rest of 20 squad is looking at him.

They all knew that there had been something between you and Street and even if it might have started casual, it sure as hell was not in the end. None of them were sure what went down between you two and why it ended, but whatever it was and how much distance it brought, it hadn't changed a single thing about the love that was shining in Street's eyes the second he saw you.

“I wonder how he got back in. Cortez promised she’d get him banned after the stunt he pulled last time with Carnahan”, Street's ears are perking up at the mention of your name and his eyes flitter over to Chris.

“I doubt she put him on the list”, Deacon throws in, his eyes wandering around to figure out if their boss had seen the unwanted guest yet and if so, what her stance was.

“We all know that these guys are waving around with some cash and the door magically opens”, Tan grumbles. He had seen more than enough of his fair share of people who bought their way out of trouble while he worked at VICE. It was so fucking infuriating to watch criminals walk free just because they had enough petty cash to pay whatever fine they got.

“Nah. He’s the type of guy who’s oozing so much filthy rich asshole energy that they have to let him in once he’s made sufficient enough of a scene”, Luca is flexing his fingers as he speaks. They are itching, the need to just walk over and drag that bastard away from you is growing with every moment he has to witness the way you are dancing with that asshole. He really wants to play cavalry for you and get you out of there, but he also knows that this would cause so much more trouble because of who they were talking about.

The moment that everything changes is when they see the way his hand is moving from right below your shoulder blades down to the small of your back and from there he splayed his hand right on your ass, making your entire body stiffen at the unwanted touch.

“Chris and Tan, kick that sorry excuse for a man out, Street, you are cavalry and get Carnahan out. Luca and I go talk to Cortez to make sure we have department backing if he’s inevitably acting like a bratty child”, Deacon took the lead and laid out the battle plan for them, even though Street wasn't even waiting for him to finish. He wouldn't have cared for backup at all. All he could think about was getting you out of there and fast. He makes his way through the crowd, fists clenched at his sides and the rushing of the blood in his ears loud enough to drown out the music and the chatter of the gossiping crowd. He didn't care who he had to shove to the side as he made his way through the dancefloor to where you were. All he can see is the guy's grip on you getting tighter and tighter. Fucking bastard.

Chris and Tan are following right in his footsteps, knowing that there is nothing that would stop Street right now. All they could do was make sure he didn’t get provoked by the Hollywood asshole so he could get you out of here without risking his career for beating the guy into a pulp. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but Street had enough of a target on his back as is. He didn’t need the added bonus of fucking with one of the most influential men in LA.

Dancing with David Rossi was probably one of the most pleasant things you had ever done during an event like this. The song was just fading out and Rossi had invited you over to his table when something rattled you. You knew that the man standing behind you was trouble the second you heard that deep baritone voice again. It sent you straight back to what happened two years ago. The first time that Cortez asked you to help them work the crowd during the event.

You weren't SWAT, but you had a charming presence and knew how to give people the knowledge they needed to make a choice, preferably the one you wanted them to make—writing large cheques for the children's hospital and you sure as hell could imagine worse things to do with your Friday night than doing something good. Even if the whole people part was more annoying than anything else. You had thrown yourself all in that first night, digging up old cases to build an imaginary one that people could solve with real detective methods and it was quite the hit. Something you were truly proud of, that much you knew, but it also meant you lowered your guard. You were surrounded by SWAT officers. They were your friends, your family. What was supposed to go wrong here?

And then Tony Parker happened and everything went to shit. You weren't used to hot and charming men being all over you so at first you took his flirting for innocent interest in your job and what you did at SWAT. That was until he put his hands where you sure as hell didn't want them and even though you told him no more than once, he wasn't letting go until he had you cornered in one of the interrogation rooms that were technically closed for the public. If it weren't for Chris who went looking for you, you sure as hell wouldn't have gotten away with just being touched and groped. You felt so relieved when Cortez promised that she would make sure that he wouldn't set foot in SWAT HQ unless it were custody, protective or otherwise and you believed her.

At first, you blamed the whole situation on the merry widow and the new look silhouette dress you wore that made you look like you were hotter than you actually are but once Chris sat you down in the locker room and helped you sort through all of the thoughts and feelings that were racing through your brain you saw it for what it was. 

A sick dude getting off on an unhealthy power imbalance and the perfect way to act out his fantasy was forcing himself on someone else against their will.

You knew that if you were to really make a scene you could pull Rossi back in and then the rest of SWAT would surely join. They were a protective bunch, especially with you because your skills were purely academic. But you know that it would only make things worse. All you had to do was bite your tongue, stay polite and dance with him for one song. Then you could excuse yourself and he couldn't say anything about it because you gave him at least one dance.

With your hand in his, the other resting on your spine right under your shoulder blades he starts moving to the music. The song is slow and you curse Fortuna for being such a bitch.

"I've been dreaming of this moment for two long years", he murmured into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You knew that there hadn't been any actions taken by the department because the intervention had been too early and the video cameras hadn't been set on recording the way they usually were. Not to mention that a man like Parker didn't just have a lawyer, he had a fucking army and they would have turned your life into a miserable shit show for the mere incineration that something hadn't been ok and you knew how these cases went. You had filed away your fair share of them and you weren't overly keen on getting right smack dab into the middle of all of this, even though you knew that this made you a part of the problem.

Maybe he wouldn't have dared to show his ugly ass visage if you had pressed charges against him, maybe all it would have taken was a little bit of bravery to not just keep on swallowing his heinous behaviour. But right here on the dancefloor, all you could hope for was that he would not overstep in public the way he had done in the private of the interrogation room. He was an influential man but even his immunity had limits and harassing you in a room filled with SWAT officers would be downright suicidal.

"You know, I am a man who likes to finish what he started", he begins, hand wandering from the appropriate place on your back down south and you are cursing yourself for not wearing your usual poofy skirts. That way at least you wouldn't be forced to feel his grubby hands on your body as much. You are closing your eyes for a moment to compose yourself before you can look back at him. You would totally have to borrow Chris's shower gel to wash that disgusting touch off of your skin before you head home tonight.

"As much as I understand a wish for completion, I doubt this place is right for what you started"

"You are so right about that. So why aren't you a good little girl and come with me? I promise I'll even write a cheque for your silly little charity afterwards"

When you see that smirk on his face you feel panic settling in your stomach. It sends you right back to that night in the interrogation room with you pressed against the wall and his hands wandering, just like they did right now. Your eyes begin to dart around the room, desperately looking for one of your friends. You knew that both 20 and 50 squad were here tonight, so at least one of them had to see what was going on, right?

You were ripped out of your thoughts when you collided with Parker's chest after he stopped in his tracks, looking to the side and there you see Street making his way through the crowd, Chris and Tan right behind him. The cavalry was here.

"If you know what's good for yourself you will take your hands off of the lady and step back, now", Street's voice is low and more growl than human. You've seen him mad before but this is a whole new level of anger and you get where he's coming from. Considering his childhood and his own volatile temperament you are surprised that he's even talking with Parker instead of just smashing in his face.

Parker's eyes are darting over Tan and they linger a little longer on Chris, probably remembering the moment when he tried similar bullshit with her 5 years ago before they settled on Street, wandering up and down as if he was assessing how much of a threat he'd be.

"I am counting to three and if you don't have your hands off the lady and a minimum of six feet between her and yourself I will make you make that space"

"And who do you think you are to tell me what to do?"

"One"

"Do you even know who I am", his fingers were digging deeper into your arm, making you grimace at the pain it sent straight from your arm up to your shoulder.

"Two"

"One phone call and you'll never get a job in this city ever again"

"Three"

Everything after that happens in a blur. You feel Parker's nails scratching over your skin while he tries to hold on to you and you wince at the pain before you feel two strong arms wrapping around you. That is followed by a loud thud of a body hitting the floor but you cannot see what is going on. You have two hands pressing you against a strong chest, the larger body protecting you with his own. People are screaming and through the commotion, you can hear Captain Cortez trying to calm people. And before you know it you feel the hands moving, picking you up bridal style to carry you away from all those staring eyes and the chaos, heavy steps taking you up the stairs towards the part of the building that was not open for the public.

Street wished that he could have done more but he had priorities. Your safety was his most important concern and no matter how much he would have loved to wipe that smug grin of that asshole's face with his fist, he had to get you as far away as possible from Parker's wandering hands and prying eyes. It was bad enough that he left you alone long enough with the bastard for him to get his hands on you. He couldn't expose you to this any more and he knew that the others would take good care of the asshole. That is the one thing Street learned in his time in SWAT. They are his family and they'll always cover his back.

When he maneuvered you away from the scene he could feel how wobbly your feet were and the heels you were wearing didn't help with the whole ordeal so he decided it was best to just pick you up and get you out of the danger zone. He made his way through the crowd and up the stairs, everyone far more focused on what was going on with Parker than what he was doing with you. He could only imagine how many people had their phones out while they were recording what would surely turn into a picture-perfect SWAT arrest.

With every step he took away from the crowd the sounds from downstairs were more muffled and the worst of it was over so he could take a deep breath and look down at you. Your face was hidden in the crook of his neck and your fingers were digging into his tactical vest to keep him close. Considering the way you were shaking in his arms he was pretty sure that you were crying and it broke his heart to think of what that bastard had done to you last time to illicit such a visceral reaction in you.

He didn't take you to the interrogation room the way Deacon had told him. He was much too concerned for that to bring back memories of that night two years ago and you were enough of a fragile state as is. So he walked into the room they usually used to talk with the families or kids if they were involved. There was a couch and he didn't have to fear to send you straight into a panic attack once you saw the room.

But first, he has to take inventory of your wounds so he sits you down at the wooden desk in the corner. You are still trembling and now in the quiet of the room, he can hear you sniffling and your hands are holding onto his tactical vest as if your life depended on it, keeping him standing right between your thighs. On any other day, Street would be ecstatic to have his dream girl this close to him again, but right now all he can see is the terror in your eyes and the way you shake like a leaf, your tears leaving a streak of mascara in their wake.

"Hey, Carnahan...", his voice is low and calm. He doesn't have to be a shrink to know that you were deeply upset and unsettled by what had just happened on the dancefloor. You didn't even react to him talking to you, acting like your mind was still downstairs with Parker's hands all over you.

"Carnahan", he tries again, reaching out his hand to place it on your cheek but your hand shoots up and grabs his wrist before his skin touches yours. It hurts to think that you wouldn't allow him to comfort you but on the other hand, he shouldn't be surprised. He had hurt you pretty bad. Why should you accept his touch after all the shit he said about you and the way he pulled back the moment things seemed to get serious.

"I need you to breathe for me", finally your panicked gaze finds his, eyes wide and struggling to focus but at least you are looking at him.

"In and out. In and out...", he instructs, counting in his head and elongating the periods slowly from four seconds to six and then later to eight. 

Your chest was rising and lowering, listening to his voice as you followed his commands. It was easier than it should be to fall back into the familiarity and safety of being around him. He was the one who wanted to end things after all, but right now when your brain was in pure panic mode, you couldn't imagine a single person you'd rather be around than Jim Street. 

As bad as it hurt when he pushed you away, you'd never felt this safe with another person before, even though you worked with a bunch of burly SWAT dudes. It takes a while until you are fully in the room with him and you feel disoriented and dizzy as you take a mental inventory of your body. You feel the burning of some scratches on your arm. Those had to be from when Parker tried to hold on to you even while he was faced with three SWAT officers who told him in no uncertain terms to very impolitely fuck off. And then you feel the heat of Jim's body seeping into yours, his thighs touching yours as he stands between your legs.

"That's good", he murmurs after moving his hand, so his index and middle finger are now resting on the pulse point on your wrist, glad when he gets to feel how much calmer your heart is beating now.

Street's awfully close to you, much closer than he has been in weeks if not months and even though the rational part of your brain knows it's wrong, there is still that feeling hiding in a corner of your heart that is happy that it's him who saved you.

"Are you ok?", it's a stupid question and he knows it. How the fuck were you supposed to be ok after something like this happened to you? But still, he needed to assess the damage to be able to help you. And that was his top priority. Helping you.

"Nothing that a little marigold balm won't fix", you give him a small smile, the kind that never fails to make his heart stumble in his chest and he gives you one of his smiles in return, dimples and all. He was relieved that they made it to you in time, that they got to stop the asshole before he could do anything that would have caused greater harm.

It's that goddamn smile that made you fall for him in the first place. That and his infectious humour and big heart.

You shake your head at the thought. Jim Street was not interested in you. At least not like that and you knew it. There was no point in pretending otherwise. Even if he saved your ass out there it didn’t mean that he magically changed his mind about you and the prospect of a relationship.

He knows that this would be overstepping big time but all he wants to do is put his hands on your cheeks and pull you into a kiss, to show you that whatever he told you didn't matter because what he felt for you was so big and real and it felt like dying every day a little more when he couldn't wake up with you sleeping in his arms. He believes that there is something shimmering in your eyes, a fondness that is more than what you'd feel for someone who's just a friend and so he is about to make his dream come true and finally get to kiss you again when the door to the room flies open and there you see the Captain and Hondo.

They are both eyeing you two and you feel like you'd been caught in the act by your teachers, leaning back a little to have more space between you and Street to at least pretend all you felt for him was purely platonic. But Street doesn't budge or step away from you, he doesn't even act like you two were caught. His gaze is colder as he eyes those two, the storm that had been brewing in his chest coming closer to the surface. Cortez was the reason why you were in this situation in the first place. She fucked up and you had to pay the price for that and there is a part of him who feels like he should make her pay tenfold for every second you spent distressed because of Parker. 

"Are you ok Carnahan?", Cortez asks, the guilt that is written over her features rather obvious to anyone who knew her at least a little. She's taking steps towards you as her eyes wander questioningly over her officer. She has heard the rumours that something happened between you two. Of course she did, it was part of her job description to know exactly what was going on with her people, especially considering how dependent they were on their performance in the field. But Hondo told her that things were over and there was nothing for her to be worried about in regards to department policy, but this looked like anything but 'being over'.

"Yes, Captain", you try to ignore the fact that Street has not moved away from you, his body heat still seeping into your skin and you feel the way he is positioning himself between you and the rest of the room. One could actually think that the people he's facing are the enemy and in some sense, that might actually be true. He wanted you for himself, wanted to guard you from the world and make sure you'd get the needed reprieve after the shitshow that went down on the dancefloor.

"You sure that you don't need any medical attention?", her eyes wander over your body, taking inventory of you not so dissimilar to the way Street had and then she's focusing back on him and her brow furrows. She does feel bad that Parker made it past the entrance even without an invite and the officer who let him in would be on armoury duty for the foreseeable future. But considering the possessive way Street acted around you, she was not quite sure if walking out the room meant leaving you in company just as bad as Parker.

"No. Those are just scratches and I doubt that there is a pill against misogynistic rape rhetoric", it is an attempt at a joke and a poor one at that but you feel like you have to diffuse the situation at least somewhat. Street was so tense that you worried he might lose it and lash out against whoever made that one step too close to you, completely irrelevant whether that might be friend or foe .

"Then you should go and see Wendy tomorrow"

"I will"

She nods, knowing that there isn't much else she can do for you right now even if she wants to.

"Parker is in custody for now but we'll need your witness statement tomorrow. Everything has to go by the book and we have to dot our i's and cross our t's to make sure that he stays where he belongs. Behind bars", Hondo adds and you nod at him, knowing that there was no way come hell or high water that you wouldn't make sure that you did whatever you could to not let that bastard walk free.

"Are Chris and Tan ok?"

"Yeah. Though I think Chris enjoyed kicking him to the ground a little too much", Hondo gives you one of his signature smiles and you smile back at him, or at least you try.

There is a pause and Hondo and Street are exchanging looks. Even if Street has started out with SWAT a few months ago he is just like family to Hondo. Buck chose him for the team and even though Hondo wasn't quite sure what his whole ordeal was, it was painfully obvious even for a blind man that he cared about you. A lot. Whether he was willing to fully admit that to himself didn't matter. And for Hondo, it looked like you felt safe in Street's company, so he pulled Cortez back to leave you two some space.

"You know where to find us if something changes", he adds before he pulls the door shut behind him and Cortez and you cannot help but breathe a sigh. Parker is in a cell and the others are ok. You hadn't even realised how much faster your heart had been beating while they gave you the update.

"Hey sweetheart", Jim's voice is low and quiet, and yet more than enough to pull your focus back to him. Your eyes meet his and you feel how your erratic heartbeat slows down and a wave of calm washes over you. That's all he needed to get you right back under his spell. Two words and a gentle touch and you felt like you did when all of this started and he kissed you for the first time.

"You should head back downstairs now. I'm sure there are a bunch of ladies out there who are only waiting to add a few zeroes to her cheques for one of those dimpled smiles of yours", your words are meant as teasing, your way to deescalate the situation after the very obvious tension that grew in the room between Street and Cortez, but when you see the way he flinches at your words it's taking you by surprise.

You know Street is a flirt. It's not something that he keeps a secret so you didn't think much of it but to him, this felt like a bullet hitting him straight in his chest. He knows why you are doing it. It's not that hard to figure out that you offer him a way out, an easy way off the hook after he did more than his dues rescuing you but the thought of letting go hurts him more than he'd ever care to admit.

His hand is flexing, fingers digging deeper into the fabric of your dress. It's the natural reaction of his body to the mere idea of leaving you alone right now or ever really.

"I cannot just leave you after what just happened down there", you are surprised by the insistence in his voice, the way his brown gaze finds yours and looks right to the bottom of your soul. Street was stubborn as fuck, that much you knew for sure, so it shouldn't have been a surprise that he'd attempt to stay even if you told him that it was ok to go.

"I meant it when I said that I was fine"

"And I meant it when I said that I will not leave you alone after what just happened", his voice was getting a little louder, forcing him to stop and take a deep breath. He didn't want to lash out but he needed you to understand one of the most simple truths he knows. That he was there for you, to guard and to protect you and he wouldn't leave you behind.

"Fine. If that's what you really want"

If that's what you really want... god you didn't even begin to imagine what he really wanted. The words alone triggered a cascade of different images in his brain. His strong hands wandering over your soft skin, his body pressed against your gentle curves and the heaven that was pulling you in for...

„What I really want right now is to kiss you“, the words are out before he really knows it and his voice is low and almost quiet enough for you to miss them.

„What did you just say?“

Street looks up at you with wide eyes, the thing he wanted to keep a secret for your sake out in the open, but what hurt more than anything was the way your brows rose and your eyes widened in surprise, maybe even shock at his confession. There had been a time when he didn’t have to ask. When placing his hands on your cheek and neck had been as natural as breathing and he could kiss you whenever his heart desired. But those days are gone and he’s the only one to blame. He was the one to burn that bridge in the first place…

Your gaze is locked with his and if he’d still have his fingers on your pulse point he’d be able to feel how much faster your heart was beating now. As much as you loved to tell Chris and yourself that you were over Jim Street and that a man who wasn’t willing to commit was not worth the time nor the tears, there had been a tiny corner of your heart where those feelings you felt for him were still hiding out. 

You loved Jim Street, even if you know you shouldn’t.

Jim knows he shouldn’t have said that and he hated himself for that kind of slip-up. Your night had been shitty enough as is. You really didn’t need another layer on top of him attempting to apologise for the way he treated you. But he knew you well enough to be aware that there was no way you’d let this go right now until he answered the question so he breathed a sigh before his hand came to rest on your cheek, thumb gently caressing your cheekbone.

“What I really want right now is to kiss you”, he repeats his words, louder this time to leave no room for interpretation his soft brown eyes finding yours, looking at you to gauge your reaction to his words.

Street expected a great many things. Anger and fury were at the top of the list, potentially pain and sadness or even just the plain and simple humiliation of you laughing at the absurdity of the idea that after all he said to you you’d still entertain the thought of considering to give him a chance. But all there is is a gentle hand on his cheek that pulls him closer and your forehead resting against his, a soft chuckle falling from your lips.

"This feels like one of those dreams where I know everything is too good to be true but it’s nice to at least indulge in the thought of it for a little while before I hear my alarm blaring and I have to face the sad reality of the fact that it was only just a dream", he can feel your breath against his skin with his eyes closed he tries to really take this in and enjoy the moment. He has no idea how long this might last and he intends to remember every tiny detail about it.

"I could say the same. Though for me it's usually Duke who's licking over my face because he cannot manage to get Luca out of bed after a night of COD", his laughter is rumbling in his chest and it makes you chuckle too. Yeah, you can very vividly imagine how that's going for the two of them.

“I like the idea of where a kiss could lead us ...”, your voice is small and he puts a hand on your neck, feeling the rushing of your blood under his palm he pulls back a little to look into your eyes. They are closed as you continue, knowing that this is probably the most vulnerable he’s ever seen you even though you had been sprawled out in his sheets, completely naked for him before, "But I’m scared to lose you. For good this time"

It hurts so much to hear you speak like this. To see how hesitant you've become around him because he acted like a complete asshole.

"You won't”, the determination in his voice makes you look up at him with those soulful eyes that always seemed to see straight to the bottom of his soul.

“I was sorry even before I finished that fucking sentence and I've been thinking about a way to apologise, to make things right with you but nothing ever felt like it was enough. I hurt you so much and all just because I was so scared when things got real between us and I didn't know what to do. It's so fucking stupid but I thought if I push you away first I could be the one hurting, not the one being hurt"

You had known of his family situation, at least a little bit and to see that Street was dealing with trust- and abandonment issues was not that terribly hard, but you never thought it would push him that far. The thought of that moment when he cuts you out of his life still brings tears to your eyes. The man you only knew as funny, brave and kind turned into something different. Cold and hard as steel and there was no way to reach him behind that wall. To think that someone hurt him so much that he thought his only way to deal with it was lashing out hit you to your core, the pain and sadness from that day mixing with a burning anger. No one deserved to be treated like that.

"It was stupid of me to think that that would fix shit and all these feelings would just stop", he shakes his head a little before his gaze finds yours again, a dry humourless chuckle falling from his lips, "For the record, they didn't. They've been there and real this whole time", he gently brushes a lock of hair behind your ear as he leans back down.

"Feelings?"

"Yeah", Street takes a step closer to you, one hand resting on your cheek and the other finding its way to your waist, pulling you to the edge of the tabletop for you to wrap your legs around his hips, "I had no idea what it was until I lost you"

"And what is it?"

"Love", the word is little more than a quiet whisper with his lips less than an inch away from yours, one of your hands resting on his chest with your fingers digging into his vest while the other moved down to his neck.

"Love? Quite the big word. Are you sure?"

"You know me. I am not someone for big speeches..."

"Yeah. You are more the kick down the door and kick some ass kinda guy", he loves the warmth in your voice while you tease him. It's not that you are really wrong about it. He does have a reputation, but to know that you two were back on a well enough territory for such gentle teasing gave him hope that maybe he hadn't destroyed the most beautiful thing he had ever had the chance to have in his life.

"Only when it's necessary", his forehead is resting against yours before he takes another breath and the playfulness morphs into something with more gravitas.

"I never had a good example of what love's supposed to look like so fuck all is what I know but when I look at you I feel like I wanna spend the rest of my life figuring it out. For you and with you", you look him in the eyes and you feel like you are practically melting at the confession.

"I don't want to make a promise I don't know how to keep but what I can promise you is that I am willing to try and do my best"

"That's all a girl can ask for"

"Does that mean I get to kiss you?", he's tilting his head, nose brushing playfully against yours before you pulled back with a chuckle and shook your head, the smirk that grew on your lips enough of a tell for him to know that this was all in good faith.

"You really want that?"

"You know how it is with addicts. Cold turkey is never a fun experience and it wasn't even like I could get a substitute drug", that sentence made a chuckle bubble up in your throat and Street cannot remember the last time he heard something as beautiful as you laughing.

"You are an idiot Jim Street, you know that?"

"Yeah but I'm your idiot"

"Fucking right you are"

And with those words you pull him in, lips crashing onto each other and your legs wrapping tighter around his waist. His hands held you closer than before, your own arm snaking around his neck to pull him even tighter in your embrace and so you could bury your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, nails gently scratching his skin. A small moan fell from his lips at the feeling and when your lungs were burning and you pulled back, his lips were chasing yours to steal one more kiss from yours.

"That a good first fix?"

"Yeah. But I could use another. Just for good measure"

"Hey. Someone I can crash with tonight?", Luca's voice sounded much more excited than he was supposed to be considering the question.

"You have your own house now. Why would you need to couch surf?", Tan looks at the other who just entered the locker room. The party was finally over and they all did their dues. At least there wasn't anyone else stupid enough to misbehave after that display of how SWAT worked.

"Because I believe that whatever happens in the house tonight is not meant for my eyes or ears"

He is grinning ear to ear now, blue eyes sparkling bright and then it finally clicks for Chris while the rest of the squad is still staring at one another all puzzled.

"Fuck yeah, I knew it. Today is payday, my friends", she turns around to Tan, Deacon and Hondo and reaches out her hand to them. It shouldn't be much of a surprise to anyone that of all the people who joined the pot when Street would finally get his shit together and rebuild the bridge he burned with you, she was the one who got closest to the date. They are grumbling a bit, though it's more for show than anything else. They are all glad that they don't have to keep on watching their friend stare at you longingly. Life was too short for that shit and they knew that better than most.

"You sure you didn't meddle with this? I mean you are eerily close", Tan questions but he only gets a hit over the head for it. He hadn't thought that you'd give Street a second chance, even if he would eventually man up and apologise. Tan had pegged you for the one chance only kinda gal and now he had to pay up.

"You are just mad because you are losing 100 bucks to "the girl who is better with dogs than people" tm"

And while those two are bickering the rest of the team is pulling out the wallets and Hondo cannot help the content smile that plays on his lips. He had questioned Buck's choice with Street more than once since he joined but tonight he proved to everyone what it had been that Buck saw in him.

He was courageous, kind and loyal. All qualities that he not only admired but that were paramount to being a good SWAT officer and he was glad that he had someone like that covering his six.

likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated as always

If you want to read more you can find my masterlist

[slashingdisneypasta]

If you want I'd love a part two for the sheriff!bickerman story with smut possibly!

IT WAS SO GOOD LOVE YOUR JIM CONTENT IT GIVES ME LIFE

YOU LOVE MY JIM STUFF?? I love y o u! ^^ *hugs*

I don't usually take requests, but um... I'm very biased with Jim XD Especially Sheriff Jim; that was so much fun to write XD I hope you like it and come back to talk about him with me! ^^

~

Sheriff!Jim Bickerman x AFAB!Reader || Drabble

Plot: Jim's away on a work trip to a neighbouring county station, sent by (Chief of Police) Reba, because he's driving her up a wall, and you miss him. Its been almost a month now, and you're about ready to promise him anything if he'll just come back.

And- the good thing about Jim? He'll totally blow of work for the right price.

Warnings: (Large) Age difference relationship (25/60's), sexual references, TWO (1) 'daddy' mentions (Dont blame me, he starts it himself. I don't control him. Says the fic writer), and a uhhhhhHHHH little fingering at the end... vaguely edited.

*reader takes a university class and that's where they know Owen from.

Tagging: @marinerainbow , @masqueradeball , @obscureother and @slxsherwriter .

After the thing at the party Owen couldn't let it go and pretty much immediately went bawling to Reba, the chief of police. He made it sound like Jim almost killed him (Which... okay yeah, was true.), for no good reason of course (Not at All), because he's a crazy senile old poacher and shouldn't be on the force, blah blah blah. Reba thankfully didn't fire Jim, but she had to do something; So she sent him away to do some light research in another county. Some woman's adult daughter was still 'missing' (You think her name was Daphne) and she figured it might kill two birds with one stone sending him away to confer with the officers over there. Make the mama happy, stop Owen bothering her about this, and get Jim out of her hair.

Reba was jazzed with the outcome and Owen was appeased and very annoyingly smug in classes, but Jim sure as hell wasn't. And neither were you, spending your nights alone now house-sitting for your booted cowboy.

And its been a month, now.

A month since you saw him. And you miss him. You talk on the phone (because, thank god, being sheriff forced him to keep one finally), and that's nice, but it's not the same. At this point, you're struggling to focus in class. As soon as you look to the front where your teacher stands droning on, your mind starts to wander.

You're about to take out your phone and text him (he doesn't text but he always takes the next oppertunity to leave you a voice message), when Owen comes into class late and drops into the seat beside yours. Immediately your eyes roll upwards out of annoyance, and you put away your phone so he doesn't see. It's not like Jim's contact is his name, you aren't that dumb-- but you'd rather Owen didn't know you were seeing anyone anyway. He'll just bother you about it.

The bastard.

"Hey," He whispers, leaning over the arm of his chair and too-close to you despite you clearly shifting away from him and his hit breath. "What did I miss??"

Rolling your eyes where he can't see, you give a sigh. At the time, you really didn't think he would drug you or hurt you. He's just annoying- not an idiot. But after the fact, you keep wondering.

You can't help but think about how determined he was. That was wierd. And you didn't even ask for that drink-- he just went ahead and made it for you. In fact he had it for you before you even saw him or approached him. He had been waiting.

... whether your suspicions were founded or not though, you were still irritated by him these days. If only for sending Jim away and being obnoxious about it.

"Listen now so you don't miss anything else, hm?" You whisper back, a heavy dash of finality in your voice. Forcing him with your tone to back up. Stop breathing on you.

Luckily it works, and you spend the next 10 minutes uncomfortable he's even next to you. The main thing on your mind, though, is Jim.

Look, you're not usually the kind of person to lose sense, or get all wrung out, over a man- in fact, some space can be good. You can't deal with someone every second of the day. You cant deal with Jim every second of the day, he's crazy. But goddamnit! It's been a month since you so much as saw him!!

You miss him.

Another few minutes of lessons in the background of your mind and wondering about the length and craziness of Jim's beard after a month at the forefront of your mind. Your thoughts are wandering further and further away from class again, until you finally give up and grab your phone.

"Hey." Owen pipes up again, whispering so harshly at you so you jump out of surprise.

"What??"

"Where are you going?? Can I come?"

"Going to the bathroom. No."

"How do I know you're not just leaving me here??" He smirks, and you feel your stomach roll over inside you.

With a glare, you just roll your eyes and try to leave again. You are not doing banter with this guy-

"Wait, hey. I wanted to ask you. You noticed old 'Sheriff' Bickerman's still a no-show lately??" You stop moving, plopping back down in your seat. Slowly you turn your head to look at Owen, deadpanned. He cannot be serious. "Yeah? Heh. Wanted to ask you since you volunteer at the station sometimes, an' if you still haven't seen him, then he's gotta still be off on probation. Damn straight, right?"

You think your eyes are going to roll all the way into the back of your skull. Somehow though, your whisper remains calm; no hint of ferocity in the undertones. "Reba didn't send him on probation, Owen. He's doing work."

"Tom-ay-to, tom-ah-to."

You sigh. Roll your eyes and resist the urge to curse at him. Tuck your phone into your jeans pocket. And leave the auditorium bathroom-bound.

"Obnoxious, smug, twisted little weasel." You mutter, shaking your head and pulling out your phone as you turn into the bathroom.

You: How's it going? Miss you, you old fart. Cant focus.

"Hm." You hum, pressing send and leaning back on the stall wall; not expecting a responce immediately but needing a break from Owen, anyhow. So you might as well actually go to the bathroom. You're about to do just that, when to your surprise your phone lights up with a call and the sound of your ringtone fills the small bathroom. Loudly. While you answer and put the device to your ear, you simultaneously close the main door and lock it. "Hey! Stranger."

"Thinkin about this old bastard, huh sweetcheeks?"

Sweetcheeks of all pet names- is not your favourite. Usually when he calls you that you feel like cringing but right now you can just grin at the sound of his voice. Shit. "Mhmm... you look any different?" You're sure he can hear it in your voice, but that's okay because you can hear the smirk in his.

"Yeah actually, honey. Well, I got purple hair now. And also, a tattoo. Big ass singin bass on my back. "

"Oh, hot." You grin, chuckle, and shake your head. "Can't wait to see."

"You just wait, sugar."

"That's three petnames in under 2 minutes, Mr Bickerman. You miss me or something??"

"Something like that, yeah," In your head you see the smirk turn into a genuine grin when his voice gets soft and FUCK- you want him home. You want him home now.

Sighing, you bump your shoulder into the door and lean there, dropping your temple against the surface too. A frown wriggles across your face. When Jim speaks again, a grimace and a cold edge have creeped into his voice. "So. What's that little weasel been up to?... dancing in circles that I'm still gone?"

The exact same tone takes residence in your voice, too. "Yeah, pretty much. He's next to me in class today, hence why I'm hiding in the bathroom now."

"You're hiding in the bathroom??"

"He sat too close to me, I could feel his gross hot breath on the side of my face when he talked to me- and he was asking about you, too. I needed a break."

At this, Jim just groans and you feel like you can see the eyeroll from miles and miles away.

After a few moments, you lighten the tone in your voice a tiny bit. And ask about work. "... any news on the daughter?" Have you found her? Can you come back soon?

"Nope. Pretty sure she was never even here," Of course not. "but now Reba's got me helpin' 'em out with their damn store room. ... Have a feeling she's tryin' t' keep me away. Cant think why." The tone of sarcasm seeps out of the phone like gasoline, primed for a match.

You huff. Shake your head. "... fuck her." Enough!

Immediately a surprised laugh, full of disbelief rings out through the receiver. " -what was that now??"

"Come home, Jim. I don't care anymore." Really, you really don't. "Do you?? You know what- if you come home to me today, you can tell whoever you want about me." You say, and really mean it. You're tired of sneaking around. Its not fun anymore. You're - so - over it. Lowering your voice, you close your eyes. "... I don't care. Just come home."

A mechanical rumble plays on the other end of the phone, causing you to knit your eyebrows together. Confused. "-Hear that?"

"Hm? What is it???"

"Thats the truck. I'm on my way. All you had to do was ask, sweetheart, but I do appreciate the permission to tell everyone I know I'm havin' a side of fresh meat every night~ "

"Oh, god." Thats terrible!! Not all the distance and the missing him in the world will stop you from cringing over that- But then you smile, straightening up; every cell in your body buzzing at the prospect of seeing him in a few hours, anyway. "But hurry up." -Wait, he'll take that too seriously- "Drive safe!, though."

"Err, aint I always safe??"

"Oh yeah, Jim O-H-and-S Bickerman; thats you." He chuckles at that. "See you soon." With a final, insurmountable smile, you shake your head and hang up.

~

When you get back to the auditorium, the professor's gone quiet- letting everyone finish some private study for a bit. You grab your bag, foreseeing absolutely zero chance of getting any work done for the rest of the day, and turn to leave and wait at Jim's place- when a clammy hand grips your wrist and pulls you back. And suddenly, ice fills up your veins. "Hey! Where are you going now, huh??"

The smile wipes clean off your face. "Owen, let go."

"Not until you tell me where you're going, sweetheart." The smirk on his face ignites a fire in you, and not the good kind. A scowl and some dark clouds wander across your face. Sweetheart???!

"Owen, let me go." With that, you twist your wrist and disentangle your limb from his grip. Then get an idea, pulling your book bag over your head, lowering your voice. "For your information- Jim's coming home today and I'm going to meet him. I think you know who that is, I don't need to spell it out for you." Carefully, you slip your hair out from under the strap of your bag. "So congratulations, you were right- but lets get one thing straight here." Your voice turns to venom, a terrible glare in your eyes when you glance at Owen; looking pale. "We weren't fucking. But then you sent him away for a month, so who knows now? Chew on that."

With a final glower at the guy, one you learnt from the scariest person you know, you turn and leave the auditorium without another word.

~

By the time he got back to his house, for the first time in a month, its past 11 at night (Goddamn traffic. Felt like every damn intersection had construction bein' done. And everyone, and their grandma, needed to cross 'em right then.) So when he finally fits the key into the lock and slips inside, clicking the door closed behind himself, you're curled up on the old couch with the TV playing some bad snake flick on Netflix- asleep.

Jim doesn't even bother to take off his rain-drenched jacket before coming up on the couch and sitting down next to you- after all, maybe he'll let his sweetie pie do that part, he figures with a big grin. After switching off the TV with the remote he's able to finagle gently out of your grasp without waking you up (His darlin's so sleepy. Almost a shame to wake 'em up. Almost.), he curls a strand of your hair around a finger and tugs a couple times. "Wakey wakey~ "

You wake up pretty easily, having only been dozing (You were trying SO. HARD. to stay awake!!), you open your eyes just a crack- then open them wide and sit up as you come back to reality and realise He's Back. "-Oh! Shoot- I fell asleep?? Um- " You look around, giving a sniff and rubbing your eyes. "Um... house sitting went well?? You don't have any plants to keep alive, but uh- I managed to reset some of the traps outside, an- " What are you saying??

Thank god Jim stops you from waffling any further, because jesus christ. "Real happy to hear that, sugar, but d'ya know what I'm really wantin' to hear now??"

"... " you try to keep a straight face, but you know what's coming. A hesitant grin spreads across your face. "Oh lord, what?"

That sleazy grin you missed spreads slowly across his face. "How much you missed me."

Immediately you scoff, shaking your head, even with the grin. "-Oh I think you heard plenty of that already, sheriff." Casually, like it hadn't been a month since you so much as saw this man, you crawl over into Jim's lap and ring your arms up around his neck. "How about how much you missed me, huh old man?"

The growl in his hum is embarrassingly hot to you, and a hundred times better in person- not that you'd ever tell him that. "Hmm... " Seeing you right back where he liked you to be, in his lap rather then in fucken selfies he cant even fold up and keep in his pocket, made being home again Official. And gave him all kindsa ideas, too. "How about I show ya?"

... -For a moment you hesitate, frozen in place. Because you're not a dummy. Because you know what older men want with younger women. And because you are not deluded into thinking that Jim Bickerman is any better.

But god do you like him. And you weren't lying when you told Owen things had changed in a month- namely your power to resist.

And you think he likes you, too.

Hmm. "How... um," You clear your throat, skin hot. "how about you drive me to the ice cream place- the one open late on the highway?? You, uh, you could show me that way?"

Immediately Jim grins and gives a nod. "Sure, sweetheart. Just lemme get a dryer jacket. Meetcha at the truck, huh?- "

His face didn't even fall a bit when you suggested ice cream instead of sex. "Oh for fucks sake." You don't move an inch from his lap, despite the cold rain off his - yes, indeed, soaked jacket, - dampening your clothes and seeping into your skin. He likes you, he likes you, he likes you. Instead, you draw him down and kiss him.

The kiss becomes heated fast- 6 months with a person you really like without fucking it out plus an extra month without them at all, will do that to two people you'll find.

He pulls back first- but not by much. You can feel his breath on your lips as you open your eyes a crack- then open them fully at the shit eating grin on his face. "Now, darlin', I promise, I'll be gentle with ya. Alright?"

With a snort, you prod him in the forehead- gently. "Who says I've never done this before, huh?? You think that just because I haven't done it with you?"

With a scrunched up nose and a grimace-grin, he nods. "Well- Uhuh."

You would be annoyed at him, but you cant. Not right now, comfortably strewn over his lap, his hat askew tilted up and within kissing distance. So you try to curb the grin on your face, but its a terrible battle. Really more of a thumb wrestle then anything else. And not a fair one, either- "Oh shut up."

There's a very, dangerously lustful look on the old man's face. Smirk and all. You don't know exactly how long its been since he got any action, but by the looks of THAT- that look pawing at you, wandering all over you; inappropriate and wicked and perverted, inspiring hot shame, - it has to have been a while. "... Lemme get ya all warmed up, huh?"

Clearing your throat, you find yourself tucking hair behind your ear, feeling a little awkward and nervous, and young, being on top of him right now. Being looked at like That. Like exactly what he said before; fresh meat. Like a naked woman at a club, or out of a magazine, a bad video, a really good dream- Like he's starving and you're a four course meal. Except the growl in Jim's voice isn't coming from his stomach, its coming from the very back of his throat. "What do you me- Oh."

What he means becomes abundantly clear when he shows his teeth in the smirk suddenly like a big bad wolf baring his fangs, and undoes the button on your jeans. With his eagerness he doesn't bother pulling down the zip, it comes apart on its own when he digs his hand in between the seam and your very thin underwear. He doesn't bother to tease here, either- getting a good feel of you and making you choke on a gasp (or a moan?? It was a little bit of both.) with his boldness. You cover your mouth to muffle the sound, surprised at both him for suddenly touching you after all this time, and yourself for making tHAT EMBARRASSING, DESPERATE SOUND-

You should not have liked that so much. You should not be so turned on already.

Oh shit.

What the fuck with this man.

Jim chuckles at you. "Now now, sugar, don't be like that." He teases, still with that wolfish grin. "No hidin' from ol' Jimmy, hm?"

Carefully you pull your hand away from your mouth, but only halfway. Its hard to speak with the mans hand still under your throbbing cunt and seeing the absolute glee in his eyes showing his cards- he's absolutely loving every second of it; Having his cute lil sweethearts no doubt even sweeter pussy right in the palm of his hand hot and leaking and ready to go. "But- "

"Uh uh, no but's. Hand down. Now." The growl in his voice again, the steel in his expression, his forces you to do what you're told. Transferring both your hands to his still rain-damp shoulders, rolling your eyes.

"Damn, yes sir."

... there's no secret he loves that cute 'sir' business, but he sees directly through your fake bravado and gives a taunting grin instead of praising the shit out of you for it, rolling his pointer finger over your clit. Immediately your face drops, your jaw falling because it feels so good. You can see building up a gentle orgasm from this alone and he hasn't even directly touched you yet.

Your brain foggy, you manage to think to yourself who even knew that Jim Bickerman knew where the fucking clitoris was!? That was not... that was not on... not on your bingo card... Without thinking, you'd begun slowly rolling your hips with the feeling; eyes closed, the leather of his jacket pinched under your fingers, his most wicked grin watching you look so damn pretty in his lap; lettin' him touch you like this. Damn, what a good girl.

When he creeps his hand under the waistband of your underwear finally, coating his fingertips in your dripping slick, you almost snap a hand over your mouth; that embarrassing noise breaking free again. But instead you remember what he said immediately, his voice that you love so much echoing in your head like you're a well trained animal. Instead you lower your face into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around neck, hiding in his wet jacket that still smells of campfire smoke from his hunting days, and fresh rain.

He doesn't seem to mind the loophole, too focused on the feeling of his fingers disappearing inside a pretty girl once again; a sleazy grin on his mouth. That never gets old.

He seems to not mind also because you slip your hand into the kinky grey hair at the back of his head, knot your fingers in and gently squeezing at the sensation of being filled up so nicely. When he lets out a groan, you give a wicked grin of your own, buried against his shoulder. He likes his hair pulled; hmmm, you can work with that.

Another slow, gentle pull along with his languid thrusts (Just enjoying himself) and Jim has to break the peaceful silence, making you giggle.

"Careful there, pumpkin. Fuck with daddy too hard and I'll show ya who's really the boss 'ere."

A big grin teasing on your face, you rise and sit up straight, looking cheeky at him. There's silent laughter in your grin, even with the loveliest orgasm building up high in the pit on your stomach. So close. The knot so tight. Made tighter looking at him again; the glimpse of his hand in your jeans, or at least his wrist disappearing. "Oh go ahead, daddy, show me then."

"Don't you worry, I will."

As if just to prove to you he's got a million and one tricks up his sleeve to show you now, he takes that opportunity to, while you're looking right at him in the face so he can see the change in your eyes, take his thumb to your clit again and abuse it- breaking you in an instant, turning that sweet leisurely orgasm into an explosive climax instead that wipes the grin right off your face.

"... there. That what you were askin' for, sweetheart?"

The after waves ripple through you and a, admittedly, dumb smile flickers across your heated face. You run a hand through your hair, while he slips his hand out of your pants and gives an appreciative smile to the wetness all over his fingers. He gives you a peace sign and a cute, dumb grin of his own.

You grab his wrist. "... you think you're up for a little more, mr sheriff?"

"... darlin its been 7 months I've been thinkin' about this, what do you think??"

With a snort and a nod, like yeah I know, me too, you lean in and get another kiss from him.

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #48: Basement

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: whumper turned whumpee (turned caretaker), whumpee turned caretaker, vampire whumpee, recovery, comfort, nightmares, starvation

sorry this took 10 thousand years. tbf, it’s my longest chapter ever! enjoy!

-

Tonight, just like every night, Jim led Kane back downstairs before sunset. Kane never seemed to have a problem with it. He honestly seemed happier now than he ever had back when he was free, when their positions were reversed. It was weird to think about.

The door swung shut behind him. It’d been doing that lately instead of staying open, but this time it was even louder than it had been the past few days, like it was insisting that Jim remember to fix it. He made a mental note get to it tomorrow.

He unlocked Kane’s ankle cuffs, letting him free of the restraints for the night. “See ya tomorrow. Sleep well and all.”

Kane smiled back at him. “You too.” He went over to sit at his desk, picking up a book and humming pleasantly.

Jim walked back up the stairs, keys in hand, and pushed the door.

It didn’t budge.

Jim stood there for a second, unbelieving. The door had closed behind him every morning and night for the past three days, and it’d always just opened right back up at a push, because it wasn’t locked.

The lock. The lock on the outside. The metal bar that made the sound of the door closing extra loud when it swung down from the force of the door snapping shut.

Leaving him stuck down here with Kane, and no way to get out.

He pushed on the door again, more insistently. But this door was made to contain someone far stronger than him, silver or no silver. He felt his throat tighten. It suddenly felt hard to breathe. Like when he’d said something that made Kane angry and he picked him up by his neck and-

“Jim? Is something wrong?” Kane asked. Jim spun around to see the vampire’s face painted with confusion.

“Yeah,” Jim squeaked, his back pressed against the door’s silver lining. “Yeah, I uh, I can’t get the door open.”

Kane closed his book, setting it down softly on the desk. His brows creased in concern. “Oh. Um, you mean... at all?”

Jim nodded, eyes wide with steadily growing fear.

-

This was bad. Kane liked his routine. He liked his half-half balance of spending the day with Jim and the night to himself in his nice, comfortable basement. Getting blood in the mornings and helping with chores. He liked his life.

But an essential part of his new life over the past four months had been that Jim deigned him fit to be treated well. Jim was kind and caring, but sometimes, it was apparent that being around Kane was too much for him. And at those times, Jim would excuse himself, or send Kane back down to the basement, where he was happy to be. Whatever he had to do to help Jim feel safe. To minimize the damage he’d caused.

Jim couldn’t excuse himself now. Not for lack of trying: he turned back around and continued fussing with the door, pushing and pounding and trying the handle. He let out a sob as the door held fast. “Kane?” he called, his voice pitched with fear.

Kane didn’t dare move from his seat. Not without permission, not while Jim was so scared. “Yes?”

“Can you try? To open the door?” Jim asked.

Kane had never tried to open it himself. For one, he had no desire to escape. For another...

His heart sank. “But... it’s silver.” It was hardly a protest. His voice came out small.

Jim said he wouldn’t be hurt anymore. No more burning. No more silver.

“No, I didn’t mean, like, touch it,” Jim clarified nervously. “You could use the blanket, maybe?”

“Oh.” Kane started to calm down. Of course. “Yes, I can try. If- you’re sure it’s okay?” Fringe nightmare scenarios of him busting down the door and being punished for escaping ran through his mind, as little sense as they make.

“Yeah, go for it.” Jim descended the stairs and stepped out of the way, hugging the wall. Kane didn’t miss the way Jim seemed to shrink back away from him.

He grabbed his blanket and ascended the stairs to approach the door, looking back nervously to Jim before ramming into it full-force, using his blanket as a shield. The entire room seemed to vibrate with the force of it.

The door didn’t budge.

Kane looked back again, and Jim looked much more scared this time, to his despair. Jim backed himself up into the far corner, shivering.

He drew his blanket around himself. “I’m sorry. I- I can’t break it. It’s silver. I was just doing what you said to, please don’t- please.”

“No, it’s uh, it’s all good,” Jim said shakily, arms clutched protectively to his chest the way he always used to do back at Kane’s house. “I mean, you. Not- this situation.”

It was starting to sink in. They were trapped in here together. Jim was trapped down here with him. And...

Kane was strong now. He didn’t need to worry so much that Jim would hurt him, and his tentative trust in Jim had grown enough by now that he was reasonably sure he wouldn’t anyway.

But it was apparent that Jim was really scared. Jim had never hurt him, but Kane had hurt Jim. Over and over and over for years. It was different here because Jim was the one in charge now, he could always get away if he needed to, but now... he couldn’t.

Kane sat down on the steps, hoping to make himself less intimidating. “It’s okay. It’s just like upstairs except... continued, right? I can put the cuffs back on, if you want.”

Jim hesitated, thinking it over. “No, it’s okay,” he decided, his voice squeaky with fear. Kane supposed that made sense: the restraints were to keep him from running, and they were pretty useless when he was locked in the basement anyway. Jim took a deep breath. “Liz’ll realize something’s up when I don’t pick up the phone. It might just... take a bit. Like a few days, maybe.”

“Okay. Um, I know this has to be scary for you. I’m a little scared too?” Kane’s always scared. “But you always make me feel better when I’m scared, and I know that- that I probably can’t do that so well, but I’m not going to hurt you, Jim. Ever.” He tried to emulate the kind of thing Jim always said to him when he was extra scared.

Jim nodded slowly. “Y-yeah. Thanks.” His face reddened a bit, clearly embarrassed for needed to be comforted.

“Usually after you leave upstairs, I spend a couple hours reading and listening to music. Then I wash my face and brush my teeth and go to bed,” Kane recites. “Would you like to, um, do that too? I have- I mean, you know what books I have, obviously.”

“I think I’m just gonna sit in the corner for a bit and try to cool off,” Jim said quietly. His hands were shaking a bit as he slid down the wall in the corner of the room.

It might not have even been him, Kane realized. Maybe it was just the feeling of being trapped again. Kane never had a break in between- he’d just gone from being imprisoned by the hunters to being imprisoned somewhere infinitely better. He’s locked down in the basement every night. But Jim’s been free this whole time.

“I’m sure Liz will realize something’s wrong soon,” Kane assures him. “And it’s not like- you’re still in your own house, right? You’re home.”

That seemed to get through to Jim a bit. Kane could see his shoulders relax slightly with the thought. “Yeah. That’s true, I guess.”

“I’m just going to go to my- to the desk. Let me know if I can, um, get you anything,” Kane said awkwardly. It was his space, but it was Jim’s house to begin with. His home in Jim’s basement.

Hours passed, the evening surprisingly normal despite the tension in the air. Jim stayed firmly in the corner. Kane could see his hands anxiously worrying at his sleeves through the corner of his eye. It reminded him of back then, in the later years after Jim got quiet. He held back a wince of guilt at the thought.

When bedtime rolled around, he took one of his blankets from the bed. “You should take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Oh, uh, that’s okay. It’s your bed. You don’t gotta do that,” Jim said. “I can take the floor.”

“I’m used to it,” Kane assured him. “You’re the one who’s scared this time. You should take the bed... um, if that’s okay.”

Jim hesitated before nodding. “If you’re sure. At least take the pillow.”

Kane took it, suppressing the Yes, sir that he always instinctively wanted to say after an order. “I hope you sleep well.”

“Yeah, you too,” Jim said as he lied down in Kane’s bed, facing the wall.

Kane dragged the rug to the other side of the basement, giving Jim the space he was clearly desperate for, and set up his little sleeping arrangement on the floor. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the bed, but he would still describe it as comfortable after years on his cell’s cold, hard floor. And it was certainly more comfortable than knowing Jim was sleeping on the floor instead.

It was hard to fall asleep with Jim in the room, he soon realized. He’d grown so used to startling awake when he heard a hunter approaching down in his cell that the smell of a human so close was keeping him awake.

Well, it wasn’t like he had plans tomorrow. No rush to sleep, Kane supposed. Jim might even appreciate some alone time if he were to wake first tomorrow.

After a bit, Jim’s sleeping form began stirring with obvious distress, whimpering a bit. He was having a nightmare, that much was clear.

Kane bit his lip anxiously, a drop of blood welling where his fang met skin. What should he do? Letting him stew in the nightmare didn’t feel right. He was probably the one tormenting Jim in his dreams.

“Jim?” he called softly.

He didn’t wake up. Kane hesitantly stood, his blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and took a few steps closer. “Jim?”

Nothing. Jim whined pitifully in his sleep, and now only half a room away, Kane could see a tear running down his face in the dark.

My fault.

It was possible that Jim could be having a normal nightmare unrelated to him, but he seriously doubted it.

Kane approached further, kneeling beside the bed. Better that Jim doesn’t wake to his tormenter looming over him. He gently laid a hand on Jim’s shoulder, the same way Jim would do when trying to comfort him, and shook lightly. “Jim, you’re having a nightmare.”

-

Jim woke in the dark, The bright-red eyes in his dream fading into the exact same in reality, no more than two feet from his face.

He jerked back immediately, pressing himself back against the wall. His good arm went up to protect himself- never to fight back, that only made things worse, just to be in the way so Kane didn’t hit tender stomach or easily-cracked ribs.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, cowering against the wall, murky with sleep. The dream was fading, the details melting away, but he knew Kane was angry with him. “I’m s-sorry, Master. I’ll be better. I’ll behave. Just gimme another chance.”

Kane didn’t look angry. He looked... horrified, honestly, which was confusing. He shuffled backward without standing.

“Jim,” Kane’s voice came out gentle. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not- I’m not your master anymore. It was just a dream. I know it’s terrifying, I get them too, but it’s not real. I’m not... like that anymore. I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you.”

Jim blinked the sleep away, starting to come to his senses. Kane was letting him off the hook this time. No, wait, what was going on?

“You’re home,” Kane reminded him. “You’re not at my house anymore. We just got accidentally locked in the basement. You had a nightmare.” His face took on a tinge of fear. “I- I’m sorry for touching you. I just thought it would be best to wake you since you seemed distressed, and I know if it was me I’d want- I shouldn’t have, I’m so sorry. You can, um, you can punish me if you like.” He bowed his head down, shivering.

Right. Kane. This was who Kane was now.

Jim smoothed his hair back, the curls bouncing back into place as he did, starting to calm down. “No punishing. ‘M gonna go back to sleep. Thanks for waking me.”

Kane sighed with relief. Jim was glad they’d gotten to this point: it’d have taken ages to calm him down if something like this happened just a few months ago. “Okay. Good night, Jim.”

“G’night.”

...

His next dream was back at Kane’s, again, his mind unable to drop the subject. Unlike the last dream, this one wasn’t violent. Kane wasn’t mad this time. It was a normal, peaceful night.

Kane fed from him, and they lounged in Jim’s quarters for some reason, his dream discarding the fact that Kane wouldn’t do that. There was no hurting or threatening, and though Kane was his usual pompous, aggravating self, it was okay.

Jim hated those dreams the most.

He woke with a grumble, reminded once again all how content he’d been at times to be Kane’s property. How he’d gotten stuck in that rut. Learned helplessness.

Kane was already awake, sitting quietly at his desk. Jim felt a pang of guilt for stealing his bed, but, well, the guy offered. It was weird, to feel like a guest in his own basement. Like it was someone else’s home and not his.

Kane’s home.

Jim pushed the thought aside immediately. Semantic bullshit, his brain making connections where there weren’t any. It wasn’t the same.

“Morning.” He stretched and sat up in bed, at least a little less freaked out than last night.

Oh God. Last night. It was a little fuzzy, but he remembered freaking out. He remembered calling Kane Master. His face grew hot with shame.

Kane looked over. He shrank back a little, obviously a bit scared. “Good morning, Jim. Are you feeling any better? I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. S’okay. You were just trying to help. You don’t gotta worry.” This was better, being the one to reassure Kane. He didn’t want to need to be taken care of, especially by him.

Kane relaxed a little. “Okay. Yes, I just, I just wanted to help. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

“Can I ask you kind of a weird question?” Jim blurted out.

“Yes?”

He twiddled his fingers. “You ever get these dreams, like... you’re back at, like, your cell or whatever, but nothing bad’s happening? And you’re kind of just chilling there.”

Kane nodded. “A lot, actually. You... also get those?”

“Yeah.” Jim didn’t know where he was going with this. It just kind of felt nice to know it wasn’t just him, that he wasn’t broken for having dreams where he’s content with his captivity. Kane went through literal torture and he gets the same thing.

They were still stuck down here for the time being. All the games were upstairs, since Jim didn’t hang out in the basement, but luckily, it turned out Kane had brought a deck of cards down for solitaire a couple months ago. He’d almost forgotten Kane asking for permission for that.

While they were in the middle of their third game of gin rummy, Jim started to feel hungry. He’d missed dinner last night, and it looked like he wouldn’t be getting any breakfast today either. He had water from the half-bathroom’s sink, but there was no food down here for him.

There was food down here for Kane.

His hand stalled as he went to draw a card, frozen. There was no blood draw kit, not even a small knife like he’d used before he got the kit, and no bowl to collect it in even if there was. And besides, he’d get dizzy after if he couldn’t eat, and that meant that the only way for Kane to have his breakfast was to-

“Jim?” Kane asked, taking on that timid, concerned tone again, like he couldn’t decide if he was in trouble or not. “Is- is something wrong?”

“Uh, no.” He quickly drew his card. “Just- you know. Spaced out.”

“Oh.” Kane seemed to accept the lie at face value, taking his turn.

-

Kane could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t want to push it. It was probably just that they were trapped, but Jim seemed off.

It finally clicked when Jim’s stomach growled a few hours after they stopped playing, a soft sound that his acute hearing nonetheless picked up despite being on the other side of the room. Of course. He himself was a bit peckish, not that he’d ever think of bringing it up to Jim, but he’d had much worse.

But Jim was human. He’d missed three meals by now, dinner last night and breakfast and lunch today. Humans needed to eat so often, that was the equivalent of three days without blood for a vampire.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked, worried. “I- I’m sorry there’s no food for you down here. You must be hungry.” It wasn’t fair. If anyone deserved to never ever have to go hungry, it was Jim.

Jim dropped the pencil, the sound of it clattering to the paper he was drawing on ringing out. He looked up with fear in his eyes, scooting back in the chair. “I’m okay,” he said quietly, trembling a little.

That wasn’t the reaction Kane had been expecting. Jim would get scared of him sometimes, but usually when he’d done something to-

“I know you’re hungry too. Please don’t.” Jim’s hand went to his neck, where his turtleneck covered twin impressions of Kane’s own fangs, holding it protectively. “I just- Kane, man, I can’t. Liz’ll realize I’m not answering the phone and come to let us out in a day or two, and I’ll give you blood then, okay? Please.” Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

“Oh- no, no, I wouldn’t.” Kane paused the CD player, sitting up with his knees to his chest on the bed. Did Jim think he was going to attack? A flash of panic surged through him. “I wouldn’t attack you, I mean- I wouldn’t ever again, I swear! I wasn’t going to, please believe me! Jim, you, you know I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t. I promise.”

His panicked insistences seemed to calm Jim down somewhat. He removed his hand from his neck, though it still hovered close-by. “You mean it?” he asked, his voice small.

“Yes. I will not touch you,” Kane promised confidently. “It’s okay. You’re- you’re safe.” It felt backwards, his heart still thudding with his own panic, given how many times Jim had repeatedly assured him of the same. But Jim was the one who really needed to hear it.

Jim let out a long, shaky breath. “Okay. Thanks.” He was clearly still on-edge, but starting to relax.

“But- you never answered, are you alright? You’ve missed too many meals,” Kane brought back up.

“I’ll be fine.” Jim wiped his eyes, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “Remember that little hunger strike I tried back at your place?”

Vaguely. Kane hadn’t thought about that in a long time. A smaller rebellion, overshadowed by Jim’s ill-conceived attempt to run him through with a knife a few weeks prior. “Um, yes, I think so. That was- the first year, I believe? You were alright after that.”

“You waved a chocolate bar in front of my face and I caved immediately. I was nineteen.” Jim gave a soft chuckle. “I was terrified at the time, but looking back on it now, it’s a little funny when you think about it like that. Oh man.”

Nineteen. So young. Kane had known he was, he looked it, but hadn’t learned just how much until Jim told him on the eve of his twentieth birthday. He was a mere teenager when Kane stole him away from his life. How could he have been so horrible?

He nodded along to Jim’s observation, throat thick with guilt.

They did what they could to pass the day, hunger gnawing at the both of them. Kane was sure that whatever he was feeling, Jim must have been feeling it at least three times worse, maybe more since he was unused to it.

He wished he could alleviate it, somehow, like Jim had done for him. That he could offer Jim his own blood to alleviate his pain. But he was the vampire, and Jim was the human. There was nothing he could do but fetch him a cup of water.

-

It had been three days.

Jim didn’t get out of bed today. He’d gone hungry before, on many occasions. Skipping meals as a kid trying to make sure Liz had enough food on her plate when things were tight. That little hunger strike. The two days he ran from Kane, he didn’t eat until he woke up in the hospital, but he was much more worried about water, then. At least he had that, now.

Three was pushing his limit in terms of comfort. He knew he’d survive it fine, Liz would catch on before he got anywhere close to dangerous, but it was turning out to be a stay-in-bed day.

Kane had taken to doting on him, oddly enough. Brought him refills whenever his water got low. Kept asking him if he was okay. It was... kind of sweet, honestly. His fear slowly lessened the more time they spent down here. If Kane were going to attack him, he probably would have by now.

It only made him feel more guilty for not feeding him. He knew Kane was hungry, too. He’d regretted starving him that first month because he couldn’t work up the courage so much, and now he was doing it again. Kane said it was fine, but Jim was pretty sure Kane would say anything was fine.

He took a deep breath. He’d been agonizing over this since yesterday, and he knew he had to do it.

“Kane?”

Kane was by his side in an instant. “Yes? Do you need anything? Are you feeling okay?”

Jim pulled down his sleeve and held his arm out shakily. “You can feed, if you want.”

He was going to panic. He knew it. There was no way he could feel fangs sinking into his skin and not panic. But he could hold it inside and let Kane feed. He was trained for it, after all.

“Oh.” Kane’s eyes flickered from Jim’s face to his wrist. After a long, long pause, he continued. “No thank you.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What?”

Kane slowly reached for Jim’s sleeve and pulled it back up. “I can wait.”

Jim pulled his arm back to his chest, relief flooding through him. “Oh. Um, if you’re sure.”

Kane gave a small smile, the kind that didn’t let his fangs show. “I’m sure.”

...

It was hours later when Kane perked up. “Phone’s ringing!” he proclaimed excitedly, hearing its soft tone from upstairs.

“Is it?” Jim listened carefully. “I don’t hear anything.”

“It definitely is. It has to be Liz, right?” Kane asked.

“I’ve made damn sure reporters can’t get my number anymore,” he grumbled. “Yeah, gotta be her. Shouldn’t be long now.”

Kane kept informing him each time the phone rang, the spaces in between getting shorter and shorter. Finally, Kane informed him the front door was opening. Both of them ran to the wall by the stairs, to pound against it for Liz to let them out.

Liz watched in astonishment as Jim leaped out of the basement and wrapped his arms around her. “Finally! Am I glad to see you!”

“Jim? What are you doing down here? What happened?” Liz gave him a quick hug before pulling back to check him for injuries.

Kane backed up until he was all the way down the stairs. Liz had never hurt him, but this was an unusual situation. Best not to be in the huntress’s space.

“Door’s fucked. Been locked down here for three days.” Jim walked past her. “If you’ll excuse me, I have got to get something to eat.”

“Shit! Are you serious?” Liz opened and closed the door experimentally as Jim raced past her to the kitchen, Kane watching apprehensively.

Liz looked down at him and sighed. “Guessin’ you haven’t had a lot to eat either?”

He shook his head.

She held the door open. “C’mon. Let’s get you some blood.”

“I think, um, I don’t mean to contradict you or anything,” Kane said nervously, “But I don’t think Jim is-”

“Yeah, Jim’s not bleeding for you today. I’ve got it covered. C’mon.” Liz motioned for him to follow.

Kane’s heart felt warm as he followed her upstairs. “Thank you.”

-

K&J extra content posted between #47 and #48:

Kane & Jim drabble: Spilled Blood

Crossovers K&J x MMSS and Kane & Raiza continue to update!

not K&J related but i also posted a one-shot, Tomcat Disposables

starting a new thing where i add the taglist in a reblog because i think having it in the main post is breaking my links on desktop somehow, so hang tight for that in a few minutes!

[amiwritesthings]

do you want to live a normal life with me

johndeanna/rated t for now/mistaken for romance/case fic

John ran a hand over his face as he dragged himself out of the car. Last night’s whiskey churned sickly in his stomach, his mouth paper dry. He fished the pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket only to find it empty. He crumpled it up with a muttered curse, then tossed it. Crappy morning to round out an even crappier night. All he had wanted to do was unwind a bit, have a drink, find someone to lose himself in for a little while. But after a couple of shots of bottom-shelf swill and three gentle, almost pitying letdowns from the only ladies around, John had crashed in the backseat, the thought of returning to the motel so shortly after leaving too embarrassing. Might as well write undesirable right across his forehead for all the world to see. 

When he let himself into the motel room, Deanna was sitting at the table, thumbing through the journal. She perked up when she heard him enter, her head turning and her mouth curving into a smile despite how he must have looked. “There’s coffee if you want,” she said, gesturing to a styrofoam cup sitting at the far end of the table. “Dunno if it’s still hot, though.” 

John grunted in reply, dropped a kiss to the top of her head as he passed, and picked up the coffee before sinking down on the edge of one of the beds. He took a sip, and although only warm, the coffee wasn’t half-bad. "Anything new?” he asked and Deanna half-turned in her seat to face him.  

“Jim called. There’s this small town in Montana, mysterious animal attacks every full moon like clockwork.”  

“A wolf?” 

Deanna shrugged. “Looks like, yeah. No word about the hearts missing, though. Might be worth checking out, right?” 

John took another sip of his coffee. Getting out of this shithole sounded good, they had obviously overstayed their welcome here anyway if he couldn’t even get the local barflies to give him the time of day anymore. 

He heaved to his feet with a sigh. “Alright, pack up. I’m gonna get cleaned up, we hit the road after.” 

Deanna spurred into action right away with a “Yes, Sir,” and John made for the bathroom with an approving nod. At least some things never changed. 

:: 

Sweetwater, MT was barely more than a speck of dust on a map. Population 200, and it was always harder to get the job done in towns this small without sticking out like a sore thumb. John glanced outside to where Deanna was leaning against the car, waiting for him to put some money on the pump, her long hair flowing in the breeze, the jean shorts riding low on her hips. 

He grabbed a handful of beef jerky and a candy bar and put it on the counter. “50 on 3 and these.” 

The old guy behind the counter nodded, his gaze flickering outside to Deanna who set to gassing up once the pump clicked.  

“She travelling with you?”  

John nodded curtly as he pulled a couple of bills from his jacket pocket and slapped them on the counter. He wasn’t a stranger to people commenting on or inquiring about Deanna’s presence. Even the boyish hunting attire couldn’t hide anymore that his little girl was all grown up. 

“How did a guy like you score a pretty, young thing like her?”  

John stopped in his tracks, letting his hand linger on the change. It would have been easy to correct him, tell him that’s his daughter. But on second thought, it might be advantageous if the town saw her as nothing more than an accessory, non-threatening, let her fly under the radar. People could get funny about a twenty-two-year-old girl on the road with her father like that.  

And then there was the boost to his bruised ego, someone thinking he could actually get with a girl half his age. 

So he shrugged, and said, “Dumb luck, I guess,” with a self-deprecating smile. They weren’t going to stick around long enough for it to matter anyway. There was a werewolf in town, and they were going to take care of it before the next full moon just a few days away. Pretty open and shut. 

keep reading on ao3

okay, here goes nothing. i have no self-control and this clearly spiralled out of control, so i am posting this first chapter now.

for the prompt "mistaken identity" @dadfuckerfest

[pasiphile]

Hi there! Twiddling my thumbs on how to/whether to say this, but finding your Sherlock fic as a teenager (yeah, we’ve both been here that long, I am now eyeing my thirties in the street) was incredibly formative.

TVD (and Good Girls Don’t) was one of the first brain-changingly good pieces of online fiction I had ever read, and it made the days I worked that soul-wearying first job a little brighter. Or a lot. You gave me imagination and a playground for exploring my own writing, which continues to be a primary joy in my life. So — these two words aren’t enough. Thank you. 🩵

So, on to the writing! I have to ask for a Mormor prompt. Maybe the boys enjoying each other after a long absence, bonus for domesticity?

(gosh. I occasionally get messages like this and I always have to stare at the wall for a bit. I wrote it at a rather shitty time for me too and it definitely helped me get through it, so the thought that I made - make!- other people feel the same way means A Lot. Thank you <3)

The flat feels empty. Too empty.

It’s strange. It never did before. An empty place all for himself had been a luxury for many years. And after that, a necessity, a way to relax, recharge.

Except now all of a sudden the silence is too silent, the order too neat, the spaces too big. It’s absurd, and annoying.

He leans his head forward against the window, looking down at the street below. So many people and yet there’s just one, just one out of seven billion, who feels like –

The door opens behind him and he straightens up. “I’m back!” Sebastian’s voice bellows through the living room.

“I can see that.”

Sebastian starts, only spotting him now, then grins. “And I’m sweating like a pig. Manchester to London on public transport and let me tell you, those trains are not equipped to deal with thirty-five degrees Celsius, so if you’ll excuse me I’ll head straight for the shower.”

And before Jim can even think to react, mind and action sluggish in a way that’s totally inexcusable, Sebastian has dropped his bag and he strides past, already taking off his stained T-shirt and leaving behind a waft of deodorant and sweat and stale cigarettes, disgusting except it isn’t.

“Pick up your dirty laundry, you’re not a teenager,” Jim says, more on automatic than out of conscious thought, but Sebastian obediently doubles back to pick the shirt up, no comment.

The bathroom door closes. A moment later, the sound of the shower.

When did this happen? When he’d invited Sebastian to live with him? Before that, the first time he’d let him into the flat? When did he start to fill the spaces Jim hadn’t even been aware were empty?

He goes to the bathroom and slips in, quietly even though it’s futile to Sebastian with his SAS-instincts.

The dirty clothes are obediently in the hamper, tidied away. The steam smells of soap, not his, all alien and all familiar.

The shower switches off and Sebastian steps out. He grins, again, and spreads his arms as if to present the goods. “Did you miss me, then?”

“Yes.”

Sebastian’s smile slips. It’s too open, too bare, they don’t do this sort of thing, Jim doesn’t do this sort of thing.

“Of course I miss a loud, stinking oaf of a man dirtying up my flat,” Jim adds, and Sebastian relaxes, never mind that it’s actually true. “And you? Pining for home?”

“The moment I stepped out of the door.” Sebastian shrugs and turns to the mirror, absently running a hand through his hair. “You know me, I’m sappy that way.”

Jim grabs Sebastian’s arm and yanks him around, other hand finding his throat and slamming him against the wall, or rather, Sebastian lets him do all that because as always the balance is in his favour, Sebastian could break him like a twig if he wanted to.

But he doesn’t. That’s the point.

“Missed you too,” Sebastian says, voice slightly constricted through the chokehold. “This, especially. Now can you calm the fuck down?”

Jim loosens his grip, breathes out. “You know I should have you killed.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, calmly. “But you don’t. Do you?”

“No.” He leans in, nose against Sebastian’s throat, nothing there left now but the scent of soap, the one Jim got him a month ago because he was tired of Sebastian smelling like a locker room full of teenaged boys.”

“All right. Now that’s out of the way, can we  nghk “

Jim gets his teeth from Sebastian’s neck and leans back, smiling beatifically while his other hand keeps a new chokehold on Sebastian’s cock. “Yes?”

Sebastian gasps for air, then smirks, so wide it threatens to split his face. “Whatever you want.”

That’s the point.

Jim returns the smirk, then lets go and without even needing prompting, Sebastian goes to his knees.

[muirmarie]

mcspirk month mYEAR planning post

idk if anyone likes these (these being planning posts), but here, it feels weird to have it tucked away in my notes when my BTHB and mcspirk bingo planning posts are on here, so. anywho. you know the drill: this is just me rambling, feel free to ignore!!

the bolded are those i still don't have a plan for <3 - as per my usual these are all tos unless otherwise noted

Day 1: Forced Proximity (“this isn’t a blessing,” mccoy hisses. “one day,” the king says, “you’ll see that is it.” - the one where spock and kirk cannot get more than an arm's length away from mccoy for 30 days w/o causing him debilitating pain)

Day 2: Touch-starved (spock and kirk cuddle mccoy out of touch starvation - this is like 75% done, I just need to finish it)

Day 3: Only One Bed (established mckirk to mcspirk. um. very nsfw. by far the most nsfw i’ve ever even considered writing lmao. currently sitting at almost 12k, probably will be around 15-17k all told. i don't even know how to describe this. kirk aggressively helping spock play gay chicken with mccoy until mccoy finally believes spock wants both of them, idk.)

Day 4: Hand Holding (maybe the one where spock & kirk slowly gaslight mccoy into holding hands with them - yes the tags are spones but i am very certain kirk would be very happy to gaslight mccoy into hand-holding as well)

Day 5: [hurt comfort or against a wall (no story planned)]

Day 6: Protective McCoy (no story planned *eta - actually i think i am going to take the one elian assigned me w/o even asking me lmao, where mccoy drinks the poison meant for kirk, but don't tell him that)

Day 7: Hand Kink (the one where spock is cucked w/ hand sex lmao)

Day 8: Public Display of Affection (would you still love and/or employ me if i was a worm?)

Day 9: Spock is a Hopeless Romantic (the flirty spock one probably?)

Day 10: [Hands or a bonus (no story planned)]

Day 11: Fuck or Die (vulcan sex magic hanahaki, this is, like. I have elements of it, but it’s not nailed down yet quite how it works. it's a vulcan disease but naturally mccoy's the one who gets it.)

Day 12: Aliens Made them Do It (the plato’s stepchildren one - i've been poking at this one since. like. january lmao. it's maybe 30% done, but it's not gonna be super long, i'm just slow with it. it is. hm. not a fluffy story. the platonians decide that mccoy simply needs to learn to say yes to them. how helpful they have spock and kirk around to help underscore the point.)

Day 13: [time loop or sex in a three way body swap or a bonus (no story planned, BUT do I really wanna write another time loop fic and/or can I really handle writing another smut fic lmao. If I did do time loop tho it would be the one where Kirk refuses to leave the time loop until he can solve the no-win scenario, i just don’t know how that goes yet. The sex in a three way body swap would be the AOS mcspirkura one, probably. Or the tos spones to mcspirk one. idk idk.)]

Day 14: Tarsus IV (kirk: i always knew i’d die alone. this is....jim character study, i think? I do need to come up w/ a happy (or at least: not sad) ending for it tho. So I’m still Thinking about this one.)

Day 15: Fake Dating (the one where the royal is trying to marry mccoy in order to keep him, and spock and kirk independently decide to fake date him to save him. also sarek loves trashy romance books. background uhura/scotty.)

Day 16: Lost the Ability to Speak (bones and uhura signing in federation common sign language - yes that's vague but all i need is something to center around tbh)

Day 17: McCoy Hurt w/ Spock & Kirk Comfort (this is like 95% of what i write lmao but i don’t have a specific plot yet)

Day 18: [Jealous Bones OR Oral Fixation (no story planned but it it’s jealousy it’s not gonna be traditional jealousy, bc I’m generally not a fan of jealousy storylines (unless all parties are unaware that they’re jealous - those I find VERY funny)]

Day 19: [Kirk is Missing, Presumed Dead or a bonus - probably a bonus (no story planned)]

Day 20: Accidental Voyeurism (okay the one where mccoy wakes up and his arm is trapped underneath kirk’s head and spock’s holding that hand as he’s laying on top of kirk and making out with him. I will have to find a plot tho. a reason. a Reason. It’s not established spirk either)

Day 21: Bondage (heh established spirk discovering mccoy’s penchant for getting tied up and/or tying others up and then literally not able to shut up about their platonic friends private habits for like a solid three months. they only care platonically of course. you don’t need those other ppl to tie you up bones you’ve got us. this one’s about 10% started.)

Day 22: Mirrorverse (mirrorverse katra sharing, it’s a whole thing, this is out of my wheelhouse but i have some Ideas, but this one isn’t going to be anytime soon)

Day 23: [reunion or teasing or a bonus (no story planned) - *eta actually for teasing i could maybe do the one where spock conducts an "experiment" in a private lab where he has mccoy & kirk work on a project for him while he gets extremely handsy w/ them - he's doing a study ("study" - they're all aware this is just spock's ideal version of foreplay) about human arousal in a working environment, and they're supposed to not let him distract them*]

Day 24: Temporary Blindness (this is going to be such a long messy mccoy whump story tbh. orpheus and eurydice part two. before i can even really start it tho i have to decide on pov, because that….really affects things for this one. but i mostly know how the story goes. also not anytime soon tho, maybe not even this year)

Day 25: Praise Kink (i COULD go temporary awkward ability if i don’t want to write anything too sexy, but the planned version is, like, kirk blossoms like a bashful babe and spock is genuinely moved when it comes to praise, but mccoy turns bright red and wants them to stop? BUT they like so much the way he flushes and struggles to accept the praise that they ask him to be good for them because THEY like it, and so he’s absolutely mortified but still? allows it for them? and they of course like it because they want to make him accept it.)

Day 26: Expectations vs Reality (counseling fic! The one where spock and kirk are dating but still somehow drag mccoy to their relationship counseling.)

Day 27: Vacation Gone Awry (no story planned) (*eta actually i think i'm changing this to Voyeurism and stretching that to make it work for the spirk - they keep coming up w/ weird sex injuries until they can finally convince mccoy to come over to help them figure out what they're doing wrong....he probably needs to watch....actually maybe hands on is better....actually maybe he just needs to stay forever*)

Day 28: Awkward Spock (checking for pulse over the liver instead of the wrist because he forgets where human hearts are when jim or leonard is hurt)

Day 29: Getting Interrupted (mcspirk sexy 3d chess - that’s right they’re interrupting mccoy’s WORK lmao)

Day 30: Desperate Measures (the enemy within one that’s 80% finished where kirk’s wolf and sheep sides both have to have sex w/ mccoy while spock melds with them both, all for very important science reasons - don’t worry about it.)

Day 31: Insecurity (*eta - mccoy gets out of a LDR and is bummed, and kirk tries to cheer him up by putting his name up for the underground "sexiest starfleet officer" bracket that scotty & uhura are running, to prove to mccoy that ppl find him attractive. unfortunately it turns out the crew finds him VERY attractive, kirk is having some jealously-related revelations, spock is gonna kill jim if he has to watch mccoy get asked out one more time, and mcco is yay close to having a nervous breakdown from being turned into a sex symbol*)

Bonus 1: nightmares (look this is fucked, just trust me this is a very messy thing and it is very fucked and i have to make all my maths fit together before i write it or it will feel too flimsy and fall apart, but. kirk's trapped in a nightmare by a parasite that bleeds into the waking world (there are reasons for it) that cause physical damage to mccoy. spock melds w/ kirk to try to change the dream. this has unexpected side effects. - this one WILL be written for mcspirk month i just don't know what day i'm replacing yet.)

Bonus 2: pet names (i think i might be able to fit the kiss me/fuck me fic into this prompt but i’m not 100% sure yet - aka the one where mccoy & kirk use “kiss me” as a SFW swear for “fuck me” and “don’t make me kiss you” as a SFW swear for “fuck you” and annoy everyone around them w/ this silly in joke until one time mccoy says “kiss me” w/o thinking to spock, and spock’s just. hmm. don’t mind if i do. and kirk thinks it’s so funny he starts kissing mccoy all the time as WELL. very pre-them even realizing they want a relationship (except for spock, spock has Plans, thank you). this will be written at SOME point, it depends if i need another bonus/if it fits the prompt enough.)

Other bonuses i’d consider if i need them, but no stories planned: blindfolds, misuse of the bond, uhura helps them out.

Other vague stories i have that i could rotate until they might fit a prompt: pacific rim au, space forgetties, [number]+1 of mccoy getting kissed awake/the +1 getting kissed to shut him up, spock going through the wringer re: mccoy getting hurt (that was written spones but could easily by mcspirk), empath era katra au, post-empath spock won't stop touching mccoy, katra transfer requires a kiss, this isn’t even all of them, it genuinely is absurd how many tag spirals i’ve written like this lmaoooo /sigh