#got a ten and a half hour shift tomorrow and I’m really not looking forward to it

[tails89]

(So many sentences) Sunday

It's Sunday here, so I'm getting the ball rolling with some big brother Buck.

...

Turns out, asking your best friend to marry you is easier said than done.

The last time he’d asked someone to marry him, his dad had put a hand on his shoulder and told him to do the right thing. Shannon was pregnant and Eddie was at least half responsible, so they were married a month later.

They’d been young and terrified, but Eddie doesn’t regret his time with Shannon, not when it gave him Chris.

He wants to do it right this time, and it’s not just Buck he needs to consider. There are four of them in this family. Because that’s what they are. That’s how Eddie’s been thinking of them, even before Buck and Zac moved in two years ago.

In that time they’ve been raising two kids together. They’ve been to parent-teacher interviews, school field trips, and supervised birthday parties. They’ve nursed both kids (and each other) through injury and illness together, sitting for hours in the ER when Chris broke his arm and when Zac had appendicitis.

(keep reading under the cut)

Eddie spends the whole weekend stewing over it, trying to get Chris and Zac alone without Buck around to overhear. It’s not easy when they’re both either at work together or at home together.

A whole week passes before he gets the opportunity.

It’s Tuesday afternoon. Buck’s at work, having swapped a shift with Jackson so he could have the next day off to chaperone a field trip at Zac’s school. 

The sound of screeching children drowns out the low rumble of the engine as Eddie waits, windows rolled down, for the pick-up line to crawl forward.

It’s hot, and the AC is broken again, pushing through stagnant air that’s only marginally better than the warm breeze blowing in through the window.

Eddie wipes sweaty palms against his jeans and lets the truck roll forward to the front of the pick-up bay.

“Eddie!” Zac is as enthusiastic as ever as he throws the back door open and clambers into the back seat. He freezes halfway across the seats, leaning over into the front. “Where’s Buck?” he asks, peering around like his six-foot brother might magically materialise in the front seat.

“He’s at work, remember,” Eddie tells him, biting back a smile at the confused look on the ten-year-old’s face.

“Oh, yeah.” The confusion clears and Zac grins, scrambling into his seat. “Did you know you can tell the age of a mammoth by counting the rings on its tusks?”

“Uh, no?” Eddie blinks at the sudden conversation shift and turns to shoot Zac a fold smile. “Seatbelt.”

“Yeah, it’s like how you can count the rings on a tree,” Zac continues, reaching for his seat belt. “And there’s a mummified baby mammoth that we might get to see.”

“On the field trip?” Eddie asks, piecing the puzzle together. 

He’s not sure who’s more excited for the trip– Buck or Zac. Their kitchen table is currently buried under the pages and pages of notes and education resources Buck had printed off the museum’s website.

“Hey Dad?” The front passenger door swings open and Chris shoves his crutches into the footwell. “Can I go to Matt’s house after school tomorrow?”

“Not on a school night,” Eddie tells him, waiting for his son to put on his seatbelt. “Maybe on the weekend.”

“But Dad,” Chris starts, “he just got Tears of the Kingdom and he said I could play it.” 

“Aren’t you still grounded?” Zac asks from the back seat.

“No, Dad said I’m not anymore.”

“It’s still a school night,” Eddie says, flicking on the indication to pull away from the school. “And you have homework. Why don’t you wait until the weekend?” he suggests. “You could have a sleepover.”

“Yeah, okay.” Chris pulls his cellphone out of this bag and Eddie turns his attention back to the road, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

“Hey, so I was thinking we could stop at the beach before going home,” he says, his hands suddenly feeling sweaty again.

“Really?” Zac asks, his reflection in the mirror leans forward in his seat and Eddie can feel his feet swinging against the back of his chair. “Can we get ice cream?”

“I thought I had homework,” Chris says slowly, lowering his phone.

“I know, we won’t stay long. I just— there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Eddie says, glancing back up to the mirror. “Before we get home.”

Chris’ expression twists into something thoughtful. “Is it about Buck?” he asks. “Is that why you picked us up from school?”

“I pick you up from school all the time.”

“Yeah, with Buck,” Chris responds, his tone edging into suspicion. “Because you hate driving.”

“I don’t hate driving,” Eddie argues.

“But Buck drives all the time,” Zac pipes up, joining Chris in this gang up on Eddie hour. “You never drive.”

“Buck’s at work,” Eddie reminds them. “And yeah, fine. It is about Buck, but it’s also about you guys and me and—” he stops and forces himself to take a breath. “Let’s just get to the beach and then we can talk.”

“Wait, are we getting ice cream because it’s bad?” Chris asks, his voice wavering. “Did something bad happen?”

Eddie resists the urge to bang his head against the steering wheel. God, he’s already screwing this up. 

“It’s nothing bad,” he says instead and pulls into a parking spot, cutting the engine. “It’s good. I promise.” 

They all bundle out of the car and head over to the little van that sells soft serve and slushies, and Eddie buys both kids an ice cream, stuffing his pockets with napkins for the inevitable mess that will follow.

They walk down to the beach, Eddie carrying Chris’ ice cream as they pick their way across the sand to find a spot near the water.

“So,” Eddie starts, handing over the ice cream. He wipes his hands on his jeans again, the stickiness more to do with nerves than the dripping mess Chris is eagerly digging into. “I wanted to talk to both of you about me and Buck and—” he hesitates, bracing himself. “How would you guys feel if me and Buck got married?”

“You’re getting married?” Zac sits up on his knees, his eyes lighting up. 

Eddie laughs, handing over a napkin. “Well, I haven’t asked him yet,” he admits. “But I want to.” He glances across at Chris. “Only if both of you are okay with it.”

“Yes!” Zac cheers, the ice cream dripping down his hand forgotten in his excitement. 

“Chris?”

His son’s lips press together deep in thought. “If you and Buck get married, does that mean he’ll be my dad too?”

“If that’s something you want,” Eddie tells him, watching carefully for Chris’s reaction. 

A bright smile spreads across Chris’ face and he nods fervently. 

“Yeah, that would be cool.”

The last of Eddie’s anxiety fades.  “So, you’re happy if I ask him?”

“Yes!” Both kids nod and Zac says, “Me and Chris will be brothers.” Then he notices the ice cream running down his arm, soaking into his sleeve and hurries to lick it up.

“No we wouldn’t,” Chris tells him. “Not really, Buck isn’t your dad.” He finishes his ice cream. “I think you’d be my uncle.”

Zac’s smile falters. “But you’re older, and I don’t want to be your uncle.”

“You can be brothers,” Eddie tells him, handing over more napkins so they can start cleaning themselves up. “But you can’t say anything to Buck. It’s got to be a secret, just for a little while.”

“Okay.”

Nodding, Eddie lets out a long breath. The conversation had been easier than expected, though in hindsight it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Both boys love Buck as much as Eddie does.

Still, that’s step one done. Now all Eddie needs is a ring and the perfect moment. 

Easy.

Tagging (no pressure): @fairytales-and-folklore @rosieposiepuddingnpie @spruceoutoffive @bigfootsmom

[freckleslikestars]

People who sit and nurse one drink over two hours. Mate, go to a pub and get a fucking beer, cause that mojito is going to be watery as fuck and going to taste like shit now. Also, not being rude, but if you’re just gonna sit and chat and not actually drink the drinks that we have on offer…just stay in?

People who drink more tap water than the shit they’re actually paying for. And this goes for non alcoholic drinks as well. If it’s dietary, go ahead. My best friend can only drink water. I get it. But it’s people who come in, have one drink that they’re paying for, and then sit and just drink the complimentary bottles of water. But still expect you to wait on them and bring them those free bottles of water. I’m not being funny, but when you buy a drink you’re also paying for the service, and if you’re not buying drinks you’re not actually paying for service.

People who order a drink, say it’s good when asked by the server if anything’s okay, and then forty minutes later complain they don’t like it. It’s going to taste like shit three quarters of an hour after it’s been made. Cocktails aren’t made to sit around and get warm. And if you’ve let it sit there and kind of tentatively sipped from it until there’s only half a drink left and then kick up a fuss, it’s your own fucking fault because I asked you, explicitly, whether everything was okay with the drink. And if not, whether that’s because somethings actually wrong with the drink (three weeks ago the boss added salt instead of sugar to one of the sweetest drinks on the menu because he didn’t check the label on the jar and went straight to the sweet drink after salting the rim of a margarita - these things happen and sometimes we do fuck up, so if you talk to us we can get it corrected) or because it’s just not your thing, we can take it away and get you something that is. It’s why we check back on you a couple of minutes after it’s arrived.

People sitting on their phones not talking to one another. I will say, this tends to happen more to couples who have clearly been together longer, and also that it’s more common with people over the age of 40-ish. And I think this one bothers me because it’s so fucking rude. My dad and I have a rule of ‘no phones at the dinner table or out when we’re having drinks or something unless it’s pertinent to what we’re discussing - so if we have to look something up to do with the conversation or if we want to show the other something that we saw online earlier. And it’s not hard and fast, sometimes we do have to be in contact with other people for work or something, and that’s fine, but on the whole it’s phones away because otherwise it’s rude. And I think particularly when people have a reservation, they’ve booked in advance and told us ‘it’s Matthew’s birthday’ or ‘celebrating wedding anniversary’ or ‘Jasmin got a promotion’ or ‘date night’ and then you sit there not talking to one another and not actually celebrating, what is the fucking point. We’ve turned our guest WiFi off (for unrelated WiFi problems), and cause we’re in a basement, signals patchy and unreliable, and honestly the number of people who actually talk and seem to have a good time has increased. And honestly? We all want to keep it off. If you really need the internet, you can go outside. But we are getting far fewer customers who come down, have a couple of drinks, spend the entire night staring at their phones instead of interacting with one another, and then leave grumbling about “the atmosphere” or how little they enjoyed it when we as staff endeavoured to make their stay as pleasant as possible and we were blocked at every opportunity because their screen was more interesting.

Things that as a bartender I fucking hate: a (probably) ever growing list

Lipstick - in particular those 24-hour-waterproof-will-still-last-through-a-nuclear-disaster-even-if-you-don’t ones. You have to check every glass before it goes in the glass wash, because if you put one with lipstick into the glass wash it bakes it on. There have been times that someone has not wiped off lipstick before it’s gone in the wash and we’ve had to throw the whole glass out because you’ll never get Very Cherry Berry or whatever the fuck off now. And sometimes even if you do try your best to get it off, you get smears that you can never quite buff out.

Plastic glassware. This is a contentious one. I don’t want to get rid of plastics - plastics are great for when you’ve got a room full of 21 year olds who you don’t trust with glass. Plastics are great for when you’re at an outdoor venue or you’ve got a pour of 3000 drinks and no way in hell of getting a glass wash turn over fast enough. Plastics are hell on earth to dry - particularly rigid plastics. Im not so bothered by the flexible ones that bounce back when you squish them, but the ones that crack? Pain in the arse to wash and dry. Plastic shot glasses are the worst for this. Also, water sticks to plastic so much more than it does to glass, so you get through so many more cloths drying plastic than you do drying glass. I hate plastics.

Dairy based drinks. Don’t get me wrong, I love a grasshopper or a brandy Alexander, but they take so much more washing up. If you just chuck the glass of a dairy based drink in a glass washer, then depending on your heat settings it cooks the milk and you get this white milky film across the inside of the glass that you’re never getting out. Same with egg white drinks.

People who gender drinks. No, a daiquiri is not a girly drink. A godfather or an old fashioned doesn’t make you manly. Gin and tonics are not womens’ drinks and whiskey is not reserved only for old men. Don’t fucking tease your mate when his Hanky Panky comes out in a dainty Nick and Nora, when your dark and stormy is in a highball, because his hanky panky is all alcohol, and yours is mostly ice and ginger beer.

Long Island iced teas. I’m not going to elaborate on that one.

People who order a martini and then expect it to come in a v shaped cocktail glass, then kick up a fuss because you won’t put it in one. Traditionally, martinis were served in Nick & Nora’s. We still serve them in nicks because nicks are easier to drink from, plain and simple, and because that is traditionally what they were served in. The Americans brought it v shaped glasses, which the media picked up on. And, really, it’s a bars personal choice what they stock. We don’t keep cocktail glasses at the front of house because we prefer nicks. They take up less room, they look nicer, they don’t break so much and they’re easier to drink from. It’s incredibly rude to complain about the glassware your drink is in before you’ve even tried the drink.

In the same vein, people who come in and order a martini, shaken not stirred, because that’s the way James Bond has it. No. James Bond had his martini shaken because it used potato vodka that wasn’t particularly well filtered and so still had a lot of starch and stuff that made it look cloudy. There’s a rule when making cocktails: you shake a drink to achieve four things - dilution, aeration, to mix and and to cool it down. A good rule of thumb is if a drink is clear, it’s not got anything to hold aeration (fruit juice, for example) so you want to stir it because you then get your dilution, cooling, mixing, as well as the added control of being able to see what’s happening rather than having everything hidden in tins. So, your martini that we’re making with a vodka that’s been filtered five times through molecular filters and is clearer than the water you’re gonna get out of the tap really has no need to be shaken. You’re not getting anything out of shaking it - in fact, you’re going to lack the control that stirring is, so you risk having a drink that isn’t diluted or cold enough (we shake a drink for 8-10 seconds, we stir a drink for 40 seconds to a minute, often over a cooling bain Marie/ice bath)

Drinks like slippery nipples and blow jobs. They’re usually shots. They’re messy, they taste shit and people order them just for the name. I’ve never met a bartender who likes serving shots like that.

[kiranatrix]

What Comes Out in the Wash

Day 1: Hair @deathnotetober

Characters: Light, L, Watari, & mentions of Sayu // Rating: Gen; platonic (or Lawlight if you squint) // Summary: L wakes up with a huge rat’s nest in his hair and Watari says ‘handle it yourself,’ so Light has to help.

Co-written with @resilicns

——-

Sleep was something that was becoming increasingly rare for L to achieve these days, and when he did, it could hardly be called restful. He’d spend those few measly hours tossing, turning, kicking, and just squirming in general. When he slept on his own, this was hardly an issue, but now that he was sharing a bed with Light, things were getting a bit complicated.

L grunted quietly, pushing his elbow and forearm down into the bed as he lifted his head up off of the pillow, resting on his side. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he gazed around the room drowsily, trying to desperately grasp for awareness, until his gaze landed on a mirror. He lifted his other hand to feel his hair, touching the knotted mess he had noticed in his reflection. His hair was almost comparable to a bird’s nest at this point. Grimacing, he lifted the receiver off of the phone on the end table, pressing the button mapped to dial Watari’s phone in his office. He held it up to his ear and sighed quietly.

“Watari? I need you to come to my room. My hair is in need of brushing this morning,” L muttered, wincing as one of his fingers caught on a tangle and yanked the strand in that brief instant.

“Apolog--” Quillsh had covered the receiver to try and mask his hacking cough but it still came through the line. “Apologies, sir. It seems I’m unwell. I wouldn’t want to infect you with whatever I have. It’s quite dismal.” He held the phone away to sneeze several times into a monogrammed handkerchief. “You’ll have to make do on your own today.”

L paled slightly, holding the receiver away from his face for a second to stare at it as if it had personally offended him. When he held it back up to his ear, he sighed quite loudly. “I suppose we’ll have to inform the task force that they have the day off, today. However,” he frowned, pushing himself up into a sitting position as he clutched the phone. “Who will brush my hair? Who will prepare my meals? Who will select my clothing?” While he knew the latter was not necessary, the panic in his voice made it obvious he wasn’t thinking clearly.

Light opened one eye to see what all the fuss was about, frowning as he glared up at L. He hadn’t even gotten to sleep until after 3 am because L insisted on bringing his laptop to bed, loudly clacking on the keyboard and munching on panda cookies. The clock on the nightstand said it was just 6:30 am. I’m expected to work on a measly 3 hours sleep?!

“Can you keep your voice down, Ryuzaki?,” he huffed while turning over. “I’m not getting up until 7 and that’s that.”

Quillsh replied to L, “Everything will be fine. You know as well as I do that all your clothes are the same, no selection required. There are cakes and fruit in the refrigerator, and instant coffee if you can’t bother with the coffeemaker.”

He sighed tiredly, barely able to muster the energy needed to argue with L. “As for your hair...no time like the present to pick up a brush and try it yourself.” It was really past time for L to do that anyway but it meant time not focused on work, and was thus always deprioritized.

L gritted his teeth, gripping his own hair in his hand as his anxiety spiked just from the thought of trying to brush it himself. “But-..!” He stopped himself, squirming and making the bed bounce slightly. He completely ignored Light, his attention entirely focused on the call. “…alright. My apologies for disturbing you. Please get some rest and take care of yourself,” he murmured, quietly saying his polite goodbyes before hanging up the phone.

He turned to face forward, glancing at Light out of the corner of his eyes. He stared at the younger man for only a few seconds, moving to the end table and pulling out one of his hair brushes. He took a deep, loud breath to try and settle himself in preparation. However, no amount of preparation could prepare him for the instant pain that followed one frantic and barely-effective brush through his hair. He immediately chucked the item away from himself, hugging his knees to his chest in defeat.

Light snickered into his pillow and looked over his shoulder. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to try?” He turned over to face L, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Don’t tell me that the World’s Greatest Detective has been defeated by an eeeevil tangle,” he teased. He couldn’t help but rub it in a little after all the grief L had put him through lately.

L shot Light a bitter glare, his eyes slightly moist from the shock of pain. “It is painful, and I am choosing to avoid engaging in painful activities. I will just wait until Watari is well enough to brush my hair,” he huffed, averting his gaze. In truth, he knew his hair would only be even more impossibly tangled- potentially unsalvageable by the time the man was no longer ill.

“That is…” Light sat up and leveled L with an unimpressed stare. “...the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. It’s just going to get worse if you put it off, and who even knows if he’ll be better tomorrow.” He leaned closer to examine L’s bedhead and let out a low whistle. Somehow, in the span of just 3 hours of sleep, the back of L’s head had gone from normal looking (for him) to a mess of matted, knotted hair. “Ok, I’ll admit that is pretty bad. I think even your tangles have tangles.”

He looked from the chaotic labyrinth of hair to the discarded brush thrown in the corner. L’s going to be a miserable grouch all day if this doesn’t get fixed. That made even the prospect of having the day off seem unappealing given who he was chained to. Plus, every moment they weren’t working, he was denied the chance to clear his name.

“Let me take a crack at it.” He glanced at L, giving him a little shrug like ‘why not?’ “It’s not like I can make it any worse.”

“You could still hurt me,” L muttered, glowering at Light. His expression was similar to a pout at this point, as if he was on the verge of crossing his arms and huffing.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Light sighed, still half-asleep. “I used to brush Sayu’s hair all the time when she was little.” Under his breath he murmured, “Anyway, you’d just tag on an assault charge onto my long list of ‘crimes’.’”

L hesitated for a moment before climbing off of the bed and retrieving the brush. Thankfully it wasn’t too far that the chain would cause any issues. He set the brush down in front of Light and sat down with his back towards the man. This is a terrible idea. However, if he goes out of his way to harm me, I can hold that against him.

Light picked up the brush tentatively, making a face at how overloaded with wiry black hair it was. “Hold on…it’s not going to do any good like this.” He pulled off the hair and dropped it from pinched fingers in the trash can beside the bed. “Ok, now we’re ready. Just...” He trailed off as he blinked at the back of L’s head-- specifically, the tumor-like protrusion of hair sticking out from the back. How could it have possibly gotten this bad?! Maybe I’m out of my depth here. “Um. Do you brush your hair every day, Ryuzaki?”

“Watari brushes it in the morning when it needs it,” L murmured, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. “He brushes it less now that I’m older.” Or now that he’s older.

Light fingered a few tangled tufts but didn’t pull, just surveying the damage to undo. “Have you...thought of using conditioner?”

L had to fight the urge to tilt his head, instead making a soft humming sound as he considered it. “No, I believe using soap for all of my washing is still the most efficient option. I see no reason that liquid soap is not enough to wash both my hair and my body.”

Light made a noise between a choke and a gasp, finally forcing out, “No...no, it’s...no, not at…” He sighed in exasperation, suddenly understanding why they were here. Closing his eyes, he said calmly, “After I untangle this, I’m washing your hair with shampoo and proper conditioner, got it?” He counted to ten and opened his eyes. Well, nothing to do but get started.

Carefully, he focused first on brushing the parts that weren’t tangled (or not as badly) to get a sense for the thickness of L’s hair and how tender-headed he was. Light knew that probably even a normal tug or the slightest discomfort might end this endeavor; he had to tread carefully. “This would be easier if you sat still and stopped fidgeting.” He placed a hand on L’s shoulder to try and keep him in one place, but quickly pulled back in case he’d overstepped.

L stiffened up slightly, biting his lower lip. However, instead of pulling away, he mumbled a quiet apology and did his best to keep his body still. He continued to fidget with his hands, rapping his fingers on his knees as he sat there, flinching occasionally when Light pulled too hard for his comfort. In truth, none of it was comfortable, but the man’s touch was surprisingly bearable. He wasn’t nearly as harsh as he had expected he would be, and it seemed as if he was adjusting to L’s reactions. “If you insist,” he mumbled, huffing quietly.

As Light got closer to the epicenter of the tangle, he started to sweat a little. Wait, is that--? Finally he had spotted the catalyst for the rat’s nest. A half-eaten lollipop was embedded and wrapped up in L’s hair, with the stick poking out at a jaunty and infuriating angle. “Ryuzaki…” He touched the stick, wiggling it slightly. “Did you happen to be eating lollipops in bed last night?”

A deep shade of red bloomed in L’s cheeks, travelling far enough to peek around his neck. “...no,” he mumbled, his tone incredibly sheepish as he blatantly lied. He couldn’t stop himself from squirming now, staring down at his hands as he shifted on the bed. He knew Light would be able to tell, but some small part of him felt embarrassed enough to try and hide it.

Light leaned to whisper in L’s ear, “Liar.” He gave the stick a little tweak. “The evidence speaks for itself, detective.” He laughed and shifted on the bed, reaching for a bottle of lotion in the nightstand. “This calls for desperate measures. That brush isn’t going to help at all,” he said, tossing it aside. “Not until I get that lollipop out.” With Sayu, he’d once used peanut butter to get some chewing gum out of her hair but really anything oily would do. He settled behind L again and squirted the lotion on his fingers, working it into the knots. “This might hurt a little but you don’t want to walk around with candy in your head do you?”

“It certainly sounds like a convenient carrying solution, freeing both of my hands to do work,” L muttered, his lips twitching faintly in amusement at his own joke. His breath hitched and he hissed quietly in pain as he felt his hair being tugged. “Ow...” He whined, his hand twitching briefly with the urge to reach back and swat at Light’s hand. “Be more gentle..!”

“Sorry,” Light mumbled. “Got a little too focused.” He slowed down his pace and methodically peeled away the hair from the sticky candy, nose wrinkling at the unappetizing gloops of lotion and red sugar coating his fingers. But, it was working! Bit by bit, knot by knot, the lollipop finally came free.

“Got it!,” he said triumphantly, holding up the mangled sucker. It was odd how satisfied he felt. Maybe it was because L only complained half a dozen instead of three dozen times, but he was all smiles as he showed it to L. “The accused stands before you. How do you judge?” He giggled and held it over the trash.

L was shaken and tense by the time Light was finally finished. It wasn’t that the man had hurt him- no, the process was quite painless after the first few tugs. However, he kept expecting pain, anticipating it, even though it never came. Once the man was done, he relaxed, staring at the candy. For once, he didn’t have the urge to shove the sweet into his mouth (although that may have been because of the hairs protruding from it).

“…guilty,” he mumbled, plucking it from Light’s fingers and dropping it into the trash can. He reached back to touch his hair, immediately grimacing at the unpleasant texture of melted candy and lotion mixed with hair. “…I suppose I’ll be needing my hair washed after all,” he muttered.

Light frowned a little that his joke had flopped, but what did he expect? “You’re welcome,” he grumbled as he got up off the bed to the length of the chain. “Come in the bathroom then and I’ll wash it in the sink. Need to wash my hands, too.” You don’t deserve my nice hair products but that’s all we’ve got. He’d be damned if he’d use liquid soap like L usually did. Just the thought made him shudder, rattling the handcuff chain between them.

L followed Light into the bathroom, shedding his shirt in the process to avoid it getting wet. He unclipped his end of the chain to remove the shirt completely, immediately latching the chain back on after. “How should I stand?” He stared at the sink in mild confusion, unsure of how to wash his hair in a non-shower setting.

“Over there,” Light gestured with his chin, “until I clean myself up.” He maneuvered around L and turned the water on with his elbow, scrubbing furiously until all the melted lollipop and lotion swirled down the drain. Why am I bothering to help him? I should have just left it there and taken the day off. I need one.

He dried his hands and grabbed his shampoo and conditioner that his mother had brought him from home, purchased from his favorite salon. The sleek bottles only reminded him of how much he needed a haircut, of how much he’d taken for granted all the little freedoms like that. The reflection looking back at him in the mirror-- bangs hanging in his eyes, wispy strands long enough to tuck behind his ears-- reinforced it. L may be a mess but so was he. The realization didn’t help his mood any.

He gave L a cold glance and pointed to the still-running warm water in the sink. “So...just stick your head under the faucet.”

L glanced back and forth from the sink to Light for a moment, as if unsure of what to do. He then moved closer to the sink, leaning down and hesitantly pushing his head under the water. He immediately jerked back when some ended up in his ear, an uncharacteristic squeak escaping his lips as his face scrunched up. He tilted his head, shaking it as if trying to get the water out. His hands rest on the sink, gripping it tightly to keep himself upright. Once he had calmed down, he took a deep breath and put his head under again, this time keeping it there as he closed his eyes.

Light crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg. If L couldn’t even stand the water, a molecule of soap in the man’s eyes would send him through the roof. “Hold on, I’ll get a chair and you can just lean back.” He went to do so but the chain tugged him back sharply. How many times will I forget? I’m anchored. “Um, can you release the chain for a moment? I’ll be right back.”

Much to his own surprise, L reached out without even hesitating, unclipping Light’s end of the chain. “Be quick. I think I can feel it hardening,” he murmured, grimacing as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He wanted to cooperate, he truly did, and he could only hope that was coming through in his actions and words.

Light blinked as the chain thunked to the bathroom floor. He did it? He stared at the coiled chain like it was a dead but still dangerous snake before snapping to attention and heading into the bedroom. It had been over a month since he’d felt 360 degrees of freedom but he couldn’t enjoy it, even though he wheeled L’s office chair into the bathroom slower than necessary. He felt a little shaken that his first instinct had been to run, but why? What did he have to run from? I’m innocent…

“Sit here and lean back so your head’s in the sink.” He rolled up a fluffy towel and placed it on the edge of the counter. “That should make it more comfortable.” He added drily, “Don’t worry, I didn’t stuff any razors inside.” Not that I’m allowed any. A few months ago he’d been the top student at To-Oh and now he was playing hairdresser with a man who wanted to execute him.

L didn’t bother grabbing the chain again, wanting to give Light more space as a gesture of appreciation for what he was doing, since he couldn’t really find the words to verbalize that feeling. He nodded and sat down in the chair, leaning back and resting his neck on the towel. His face scrunched up slightly in discomfort as he tilted his head back, suddenly made very aware of how stiff his neck was.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I trust you.” Of course, that’s partly because it would be too big of a risk for him to try anything right now, but I also don’t think he’d want to…

Light arched a brow at that lie and squeezed shampoo into his hands. “Sure.” Trusts me when it’s convenient for him. He avoided looking at the chain, not wanting to remind L in case he forgot. I know he didn’t forget.

L’s face was as unreadable as ever so he just got on with it, lathering L’s hair into fragrant suds and taking care that no soap got into the man’s wide-open eyes. The smell of grapefruit and sandalwood in the bathroom started to make Light relax, the tenseness falling from his face. After a few minutes, he couldn’t feel any more sticky candy embedded in L’s hair and rinsed it clean. “Alright, sit still. Conditioner’s next.”

The feeling of Light’s fingers massaging his scalp was incredibly relaxing for L. He did his best to keep his face impassive, forcing himself to focus on the feeling of wetness on his forehead, but, eventually, even that wasn’t enough. By the time Light was rinsing his hair out, L’s eyelids were heavy and his expression incredibly relaxed. Most of the tension that was normally present in his body was gone. “This…feels nice,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he stayed still for the man.

Light couldn’t help but smile faintly at the praise. It was gratifying that he’d done well, even at this insignificant task, when it was for his harshest critic. His mood lifted considerably-- maybe this day wouldn’t be a wash after all. Wash, pft. He snickered to himself and turned the water off, then smoothed the conditioner in L’s hair to the ends.

Tilting his head, he said, “Your hair’s longer than I thought.” When wet and not fluffed up by frizz, it looked almost twice as long.

L’s body felt almost loose at this point, and part of him wondered if he would slide out of the chair. Even the feeling of Light barely pulling on his hair was soothing by now. A faint smile curved his lips as he closed his eyes. “That makes sense. It’s been a while since Watari last trimmed my hair. I’m not very fond of the sound of scissors so close to my head.”

“Now we wait. Five minutes and then rinse.” Light glanced down at his watch and leaned against the counter. This might be an awkward five minutes.

L shifted his legs, letting one stretch out and dangle off of the chair. “I didn’t expect that this would be so…pleasant. You’re very good at this, Light,” he mused, his relaxed state loosening his lips ever so slightly.

A little heat rose to Light’s cheeks. “Uh...thank you. I guess I have my sister to thank for that. I was her babysitter for years and her hair gets tangled easily, too.”

He smiled when a funny memory sprang to mind. “One time she managed to get a whole package of modeling clay stuck in her hair and I had to scrub for an hour to get it out before my parents got home from dinner. When my Mom noticed it was gone, Sayu told them she ate it.” He laughed to himself, remembering the horrified looks on his parents’ faces. “Of course, we fessed up before they called poison control.”

L’s lips twitched for a moment before he burst into laughter, holding his hand up in a failed attempt at covering his mouth. His laugh shook his entire body, a big grin forming on his face. When was the last time I laughed like this? Have I ever? I can’t recall feeling this good before now. “That- that’s quite impressive,” he managed to say after a few seconds, starting to calm back down and catch his breath. “What was she trying to do with the clay? Style her hair?” He chuckled, opening his eyes to look up at Light.

Seeing L smile was surprising but when the detective laughed, Light was shocked. But that laughter was infectious and only made Light giggle harder. “I think she was trying to make some kind of space helmet? Who knows, she was only five then,” he said between chuckles. I miss her. I wonder how she’s keeping up with her math homework. His laughter faded away.

He looked down at L, a thoughtful look on his face. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh and mean it.”

L’s expression softened, turning thoughtful and slightly sad. “Yes, I suppose it is. I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.” He sighed, stretching out his arms for a moment as he averted his gaze. “I guess that’s just something else you’re good at, hm?” He arched a brow, smirking a bit in the subtle, mocking way he usually did. However, there was no malice to his tone. Instead of attacking Light, it seemed like he was attempting some good-natured ribbing, as if between friends.

Light blinked and gave L a puzzled smile, waiting for the barb to come. Unexpectedly, it didn’t, and he wasn’t sure what to say. L being nice was as strange as L laughing.

He glanced down at his watch anxiously. “That’s five minutes.” He turned on the warm water and rinsed the conditioner from L’s noticeably softer hair. Any residual tangles came loose immediately when he combed his fingers through it and he started to get curious about how it would look when dry. “Alright,” he said, turning off the water. “All done. Your tangles are a thing of the past.”

He turned his back to L to dry his hands on a fresh towel. “I guess it seems like a waste of time to use the conditioner but it saves time in the end for brushing. I can give Watari the information if you want me to.”

L shifted in the seat, looking over at Light with a contemplative expression. He sat there in silence for a few seconds, just staring at the other man until he finally spoke. “I suppose you can. That would be nice. But also, while we’re sharing a living space…if you wanted to- ah- do this more frequently…I wouldn’t protest.” He averted his gaze and cleared his throat loudly.

“Wouldn’t protest?” Light turned around sharply, feeling annoyed at L’s assumption. The words ‘I’m not your servant!,’ hovered on his parted lips but died there when, somehow, he saw L clearly. The man was too proud to ask directly for what he wanted. They had managed to connect in a way that wasn’t only detective and suspect, jailer and prisoner. Light had felt it, too, and he craved kindness after his long isolation, this ongoing tense situation.

He watched L for a moment and quietly said, “Alright, but no cuffs when I do it.” He smirked and added, “And no more lollipops in bed.”

“I agree to the cuffs, but I can’t make any promises about the lollipops,” L joked, smiling as he sat up and pulled the towel over his head. He picked up the chain, staring at it for a second or two before clasping it onto Light’s cuff. However, instead of immediately pulling away, his hand lingered on the man’s wrist. “…thank you, Light,” he mumbled, the sound barely a whisper as he lowered his gaze and pulled his hand away, standing up straight.

Light grinned and tossed L a towel since the man was dripping water everywhere. So it didn’t kill you to say it after all.

“You’re welcome.”

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Writing Snippet #10

O Positive

Part 2

Ok so @im-a-wonderling had a FANTASTIC idea for a snippet, but I’m putting the ask below to not cause spoilers lol:)

Special thanks to @im-a-wonderling as well for the beta read, edits, suggestions, and expert medical knowledge to help make this way more realistic than my original draft! You’re amazing!!!

—————————————————

Hero shifted from side to side as she stood in line, fingers clutching a bottle of orange juice.

“Well you’re prepared.” Hero’s head shot up as the attendant waved her forward. “Normally people wait until after to go for the juice.”

She chuckled nervously. “That’s me... prepared.”

“ID?” She scrambled through her wallet, making sure she didn’t grab either of the two aliases she’d already used at different locations that morning.

She would have used the same ID, but last time she’d tried to explain that she healed super fast- a result of her powers- and could donate more, the resulting argument had lasted nearly an hour, with nurses questioning whether her “magic blood” could even be used at all (it was perfectly normal blood thank you very much), and they’d still only let her donate the normal amount.

She handed him the correct ID, and he shoved a clipboard full of paperwork at her. A phlebotomist led her to a reclining chair. Even though she’d filled out the information twice that morning, it still took approximately twelve years to finish the stack of forms. The phlebotomist returned, and began asking her an equally long list of questions. She only half paid attention to the stream of questions.

Have you received any blood transfusions?

No.

Have you traveled in the last 6 months?

No.

Are you free of HIV or any other blood diseases?

Yes.

Have you ever been pregnant?

Yes.

Wait! No!

The phlebotomist chuckled as she snapped on a pair of gloves. “Ok let’s see that arm.” Hero held out her mark-free arm. After the first donation that morning, the needle mark and resulting bruise had been gone in a matter of minutes. After the second, she’d had to wait over thirty minutes before the signs of her deception to fade. The phlebotomist wrapped a tourniquet above her elbow before consulting her paperwork.

“It says here you’d like to do a double donation?”

“Yes.”

“You have to be 150lbs in order to donate that much sweetie.” The older woman eyed Hero dubiously.

Her throat went dry. “I know. I am.”

“I’m just going to take one bag today; you’re looking a little pale, honey.”

“But the other phlebotomist let me—”She cut off and cleared her throat. “I mean, last time I donated. It was fine.”

The phlebotomist shook her head as she felt the inside of Hero’s arm for the vein.

Hero forced a cheery smile. “This is important. I’ll be fine.”

By tomorrow, she added silently. Or the day after that...

Last time she’d only been able to get in one regular and one double donation before she’d gotten called into help with a work emergency. She’d spent the rest of the day in bed, but had woken up fine the next morning. Of course, that was only half the amount of blood...

The woman narrowed her eyes before shaking her head.

“The shortage is the worst it’s been in years, but I’m only going to take one bag today.”

“But—”

“Unless you’d like to go stand on that scale over there?”

Hero blanched, then mutely shook her head.

The woman muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I thought not,’ before raising her voice to a normal volume. “And make sure to take it easy and drink that orange juice you’ve got there.” She nodded at the bottle in Hero’s hand as she swabbed her arm with an alcohol wipe and picked up a needle.

“I will.”

————— 30 minutes (or so) later —————

Hero made it ten steps out of the building before she collapsed against the wall, head swimming. She peeled the tape and cotton ball off her arm. Blood immediately began to trickle down her forearm.

She struggled to unscrew the cap of her juice, hands shaking. Finally, she succeeded, the cap slipping through her fingers and bouncing against the sidewalk. She brought the bottle to her lips, but only managed a few sips before her stomach revolted. She clamped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, willing herself not to throw up.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, ignoring the curious stares from pedestrians on the crowded downtown street.

She needed to get home.

A quaking boom shook the ground, and Hero cracked open her eyes to see a plume of smoke a few blocks over.

Most likely the bank on main. Or the diamond store next door.

She took a step towards the plume of smoke, but the ground was still rocking, and she had a feeling it wasn’t from the explosion. She closed her eyes as panicked civilians began running to and fro.

Her phone rang out in a pealing tone, sending her a foot into the air, her orange juice falling to the ground with a sticky splash.

The emergency line.

Groaning, she accepted the call.

“Hero! Villain just set off a bomb on Main Street.”

“Diamonds or bank vault?”

“BOTH! You need to get over there now!”

Hero covered her eyes. She wanted to, she really did. If only the ground would stop moving.

“It’s my day off. Send Other Hero.” She cringed at her seemingly callous words, but she didn’t think the Hero Agency would exactly condone what she’d just done.

Even if she was just trying to save lives.

“Other Hero is undercover spying on Supervillain. Your phone shows you are six blocks away. That will take you 12 seconds to get your speedy butt over there.”

A second explosion rocked the ground.

Oh he didn’t. Hero growled, pushing off the wall and taking a hesitant step forward.

The ground was finally still. Much better. She pulled out the spare mask she always kept in her purse and fitted it across her eyes.

12 seconds, she scoffed.

————— 9 (and a half) seconds later————

Hero skidded to a halt in front of the shattered front windows of Pristine Diamonds.

The windows of the bank next door were in a similar condition. She rested a hand against the ash stained wall, gasping as the world spun.

She forced her head up, scanning the scene. A gaping hole had been blown in the wall connecting the two businesses, and smoke was still pouring out of both buildings. She darted into the diamond store, moving without her super speed through the black air. She made it to the back of the store, where the massive safe stood empty, the door hanging drunkenly off one hinge.

She cursed and made her way to the jagged hole. She was halfway across the bank lobby when a figure leapt from the smoke and she was thrown to the side.

She scrambled to her feet as Villain faded back into the smoke. His laughter echoed around her as she spun in desperate circles. The smoke thickened until it was nearly solid around her.

“You’re slow today, Hero.” The voice rang out behind her, and she whirled around, but there was nothing but smoke.

Her vision was truly swimming now. She swiped at her eyes. “And you’re extravagant. You can create smoke from nothing, you didn’t actually need to set off a bomb.”

“I was creating a passage between the businesses. They should thank me.” The voice was to her right, and she spun again. There was no point in super speed if she couldn’t see. Her head was starting to pound.

“And that outfit.” The whisper brushed against her neck, and she whirled around again, only to see the smoke curling in around the place where Villain had just stood.

She glanced down self-consciously at her pink shorts and baggy tie-dye T-shirt.

“You already ruined my day off. There’s no need to mock my clothes as well.” She huffed, taking determined strides in the direction she hoped was the door.

“Who said I was mocking?”

She sensed him behind her the instant before he attacked. She spun. He hit. She flew. Across the room. To the floor. Over chunks of rubble. And into a brick wall.

Her back cracked against the wall, knocking the air from her lungs.

Smoke swirled through the air as Villain emerged, the dark tendrils receding to lap at his heels.

He looked surprised; he’d never actually managed to land a blow that direct before.

Hero forced herself off the ground. It was time to retreat. She summoned her powers, but between her swimming head and the sharp pain in her leg, she made it only a few feet before sinking back to the ground with a quiet whimper of pain.

She forced her blurry gaze up to Villain, who was regarding her with a strange expression on his face.

“I thought you healed as fast as you can run.”

She blinked, and realized he wasn’t looking at her, but at her leg.

She looked down. Blood seeped from a long shallow gash on the outside of her calf, no doubt from a sharp piece of rubble.

Smaller cuts and bruises covered the rest of her body, and none of them were healing.

“That’s strange.” She wiped clumsily at the cut.

Villain’s eyes narrowed. “You seem oddly off your game, Hero. You haven’t lost that much blood.”

She mustered the energy to glare at Villain. “I did tell you this was my day off.”

“I wonder if it’s from the blood earlier.” She mused, floating on a hazy cloud.

The tendrils of smoke scattered as Villain knelt down beside her.

“What blood? You came to fight me when you were already injured?”

His voice sounded as though he was speaking through a tunnel.

“There’s a national blood shortage. Worst it’s been in years.”

“So?”

“So, I donated.”

Villain scoffed as he produced a cloth from somewhere and began wrapping it around her leg. “You have regenerative healing powers, a pint of blood wouldn’t have made you this weak.”

Hero shook her head and weakly held up five fingers.

Villain froze. “FIVE PINTS OF BLOOD!” He roared, smoke dancing angrily around them. “ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY INSANE!? YOU SHOULD BE DEAD RIGHT NOW!”

Her head throbbed with every word, and she flinched away.

“I heal fast.” It was barely a whisper, but his fiery eyes met hers.

“I don’t care how fast you heal. No one can survive losing half their blood.” At least now his rage was contained to a low snarl. He grabbed Hero’s hands and pulled her to her feet.

“Your hands are freezing! What were you thinking!? Why would you face me after donating that much blood?!? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

He continued to seethe as he swept Hero into his arms and strode through the bank. He paused only to swing a bulging duffle bag onto one shoulder before he swept out through a second gaping hole into a back alley. A dark SUV was waiting in the shadows. He tossed the bag into the back and slid Hero into the passenger seat.

She curled against the warm leather.

“I was just trying to help.” She mumbled, her voice muffled as she spoke into the headrest.

“I know.” A hand ran down her hair. “Close your eyes. Sleep.”

She forced her eyes wider, remembering. “I can’t. I have a job to do.”

Villain shut her door and rounded the car to the driver’s side. Slipping into place, he started the engine.

“Not today.” He managed a small smile even as his eyes crinkled in concern.

“It’s your day off, remember?”

Original request from @im-a-wonderling:

“I started thinking about a story where the hero donates blood and then the villain does something that the hero has to go and face them. The villain notices the hero is off their game, but assumes they’re just tired or something. Then, the hero gets injured. The injury is really minor in terms of blood loss, but the hero is pale and sickly and can’t stand up and the villain gets all protective like “WHY would you come and FACE ME if you DONATED BLOOD today?!” And the hero mumbles “They’re having a blood shortage.” And the villain is ready to wring the hero’s neck for not taking care of themselves. So they just scoop the hero up in their arms and brings them back to their lair to feed them and let them sleep.”

Again thanks so much for the request!! I hope I did it justice:)

[angryschnauzer]

Waited So Long

Summary: As an actress in her mid 20′s you had been lucky enough to get the roles you pushed yourself for, but one role in particular needs a scene you have no experience with; a sex scene, and you co-star is surprised to discover you are still a virgin even though you are in your mid 20′s. But he’s willing to help with whatever you need.

Trope: Friends to Lovers, Co-stars to Lovers Pairing: Henry Cavill x Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, loss of virginity, oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, protection/condoms. 

I no longer operate a tag list, but instead pop over and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert each time i post a new story.

Masterlist got so long all the links broke, so you can now find all my previous stories on my AO3 LINK HERE

Waited So Long 

Henry sat at the large table, grinning and laughing as the rest of the cast had finished reading through the latest episode’s script. Everyone was in a good mood and that was down to the fact that tomorrow’s shooting schedule required just you and Henry, meaning that everyone else got a three day weekend. But… but you were just staring at the script. You knew it had been coming, but to see the words in front of you, the stage descriptions, it was overwhelming. 

 The Netflix special was ten episodes of a sci-fi series, and you played an alien warrior. Henry was the plucky human astronaut  that had been aboard the International Space Station when it had been sucked into a black hole and had ended up on the far side of the universe. Eight episodes into the filming schedule and the pivotal sex scene was about to be included, and that’s what was clouding every thought in your mind. 

 You were far from naive, you had no issue with your costume or even the nudity - you were after all painted purple with patches of ‘scales’ in strategic parts - but it was the fact you had a small secret that was making you so nervous; you hadn’t ever actually had sex. 

 You were already mid 20��s, you’d been through university and stage school, worked on broadway and the London west end, you’d modelled for artists and had always put your career first. Relationships had just fizzled away after the first couple of dates because of your acting schedule… and that is how you found yourself not only a virgin in her mid 20’s, but one that had never even laid in bed with a partner, been close, felt the weight of a lover on top of them… anything at all.

 The producers called it a wrap for the read through, and the sounds of chairs scraping on the floor filled the room. As people shot their empty plastic bottles into the trash you felt your stomach lurch, quickly leaving the room, finding the disabled bathroom and running to the toilet, the contents of your stomach very quickly coming back up. 

 Finally empty, you sat on the floor and rested your head against the wall, your mind spinning. A quiet knock at the door made you open one eye, watching as the unlocked door swung open and a familiar face peered round;

 “Are you ok?” Henry asked, his bulk almost filling the entire doorway; “You’re not coming down with something?”

 You shook your head;

 “No, just umm… nerves… haha…” you laughed rather awkwardly.

 Stepping into the room, he sat against the opposite wall, leaning forwards to hand you his half finished bottle of water;

 “... about tomorrow?”

 Taking a sip of water you nodded;

 “Bit pathetic really, isn’t it?”

 “Not at all. Is this your first onscreen love scene?”

 “Yeah”

 He sat forwards, resting his hands on his knees as he thought pensively for a moment;

 “Are you going out with the crew tonight?”

 “No. Can’t really face it”

 “How about I drive us back to the house and order some chinese and talk things through? This isn’t my first love scene but I remember the nerves. We’ll get everything out in the open so the air is clear ready for tomorrow, yeah?”

 Nodding, you watched as he stood, holding out his hand for you and helping you to your feet.

 -

 The drive back to the shared house that most of the main cast members were staying at was fun, Henry having linked his Spotify to the stereo, firing up a playlist of old school pop with an eclectic mix of metal. By the time he rolled into the large driveway that the rental house had, you were both yelling out the words, laughing and grinning. 

 Once inside you excused yourselves to go shower, twenty minutes later finding Henry in the kitchen. His hair was wet and he wore a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants as he looked over the chinese menu;

 “What do you fancy?” he asked and you tried not to blurt out what you were thinking, because even though you may be a virgin, your thoughts were far from pure. 

 Looking over the list he had already scribbled down, you pointed to a couple of dishes, watching as he added them to the list before dialling for delivery. 

 -

 Pushing your plate away you stretched out and groaned. Still shovelling egg fried rice into his mouth, Henry pointed his fork at your plate;

 “Roo dun?” he asked, his cheeks full like a hamster.

 “Help yourself!”

 He eagerly dumped the rest of your lemon chicken on top of his rice, jabbing at the pieces;

 “Hey, about tomorrow… you really don’t need to worry. It’s just going to be you and me, and three other people”

 Taking a sip of your beer you quietly snorted;

 “That’s still three more people that would ‘usually’ be there… and four more than i’ve ever experienced”

 He paused, setting his fork down and you could see his mind working through what you said;

 “So uhh, it's been a while…?”

 “To be honest, it's been never”

 It was like something short circuited in his brain;

 “Never never? Like, never?”

 Putting your beer down, you fiddled with the label;

 “I’m a virgin. I’ve never had sex. I’ve never even slept with anyone”

 There was an awkward silence, the air tense before Henry finally spoke;

 “Is it a religious thing?”

 You shook your head;

 “No. I just have been so wrapped up in studying or working or being on stage… I would get two dates into a relationship and some big opportunity would come up. I would get blinkered and end up ghosting guys without even realising. Ambition got in the way of a love life…”

 Henry took a deep breath;

 “Ok. So you know i’ll be covered up… down there i mean… and so will you… so there won’t be any slips or anything. I won’t be inside you or anything…”

 Cocking an eyebrow you scoffed;

 “Henry… I know you won’t be inside me. We studied sex scenes at stage school. They gave us the practical run down of what happens. It's lots of rubbing and grunting. I just need to go watch some porn again to figure out what to grunt…” you took a sip of your beer; “... and you probably wouldn’t fit inside me anyway… it’s not like anything has ever breached that hole”

 Henry sat with a wide eyed look on his face, his jaw hanging slack;

 “So you… you’ve never even pleasured yourself?”

 “Of course i have!” you threw a prawn cracker at him; “I’ve just never…. You know… had internal stimulation…”

 “Wow” he muttered quietly, shifting in his seat; “So…” he started again but then stopped, his brain seemingly unable to string a coherent sentence together. 

 Finally he cleared his throat;

 “So there’s never been any on set stuff?”

 “Nope. Usually I run through my lines for the next day, check the schedule, the set and makeup call times. I guess the one bonus about all of this is that there aren’t any lines for tomorrow”

 You both knew that the scene had been set up without dialogue, mostly from Netflix’s instruction because any erotic scenes can cause havoc with sensors in some countries when it comes to subtitles. 

 “What did you want to do now? Do you want an early night? Watch a movie? Talk? You want me to lay on top of you?” he asked, picking his now cold plate of food up and dumping the leftovers in the waste disposal.

 “Yes” you replied far too quickly.

 “Which part?”

 “All of it”

 -

 With the TV in the main living area out of action thanks to a rather rambunctious game of ping pong a few weeks ago, the pair of you had moved to Henry’s room. An hour into the movie and it was far from your thoughts, instead you were in the bizarre situation where Henry was literally laying on top of you as you had a conversation. The feeling of his weight pressing against you was at first a surprise, he was thick with muscles for the role, and with probably 200lbs of human pressing you against the mattress you had found you would have to shift now and again. Finally you found a position that was comfortable, and as you chatted about life you found your legs had naturally parted to allow him to lay between them, his stomach pressing to yours, his face inches from your own;

 “This is literally how we’ll be spending our day tomorrow you realise” he quietly pointed out

 “But there will be grunting too… plus some thrusting… it’ll probably get your ass in the gossip magazines as best ass in hollywood again” you teased him, knowing that the nudity he’d done in previous shows and movies had earned him a lot of attention thanks to his rather peachy behind.

 Henry pushed up a little, poking a finger to your breasts;

 “Oh yeah? Well these will earn you a whole legion of fans, you have an awesome pair of tits”

 “Pfft, they’re just average”

 “They’re good enough to give me a semi” he countered with a crooked grin on his face, using his finger to just tug at your neckline, exposing a tiny bit more skin.

 You shifted beneath him without even realising you were doing so and that’s when you felt it, a growing hardness pressing against your abdomen. Your eyes went wide as you stared up at him, the mix of emotions showing on his face;

 “I’ll get off…”

“No!” you instinctively wrapped your legs around his, leaning your head up and pressed a kiss to his lips. He let out a grunt of surprise and you felt him tense, before he softened, his lips following yours as you pulled rested your head back on the duvet beneath you.

 His lips were soft and plump, and as he rocked his hips against you again this time you felt he was getting harder. Instinctively you gasped, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You may not have had sex before but you had kissed, and your tongue danced with his as hands started to explore each others bodies, fingers seeking out skin as t-shirts were tugged up to expose heated skin. 

 Pulling your shirt over your head he admired your naked chest, the pattern on your top having hidden the fact you were without a bra;

 “Oh yeah, even purple these’ll be popular”

 With a smirk on his lips and a wicked grin on his face he lowered his mouth to your naked torso, taking one peaked nipple between his lips to suck on it, his hand cupping your other breast. As he worked his magic your body responded, the wetness between your thighs soaking through your clothing, the subtle movements of your bodies rubbing together making your arousal almost uncontrollable. Winding your hands into his dark locks, the soft hair curled around your fingers as he looked at you, pressing a trail of kisses down your sternum until he reached your leggings;

 “Can i continue?” he asked quietly, watching as you nodded your head;

 “Yes… please…”

 As he pulled your leggings off he pressed kisses to the heated skin that he revealed, never breaking eye contact;

 “So here’s what i’m going to do… first i’m going to get you to cum with my tongue, i’ll slip it just a little inside you so you can get used to the feeling, then i’ll gently tease you with my fingers; find that g-spot of yours as i’ve been assured a g-spot orgasm is completely different from a clitoral orgasm…

 “Fuck…”

 “Yes, that’s the third thing…” he grinned at you; “Once you’re nice and ready, and really really wet i’m going to make love to you… so you can practice your moans for tomorrow…”

 He shed you of the rest of your clothing before softly grasping your legs and pulling them apart, revealing your virgin core. Tender fingers parted your petals before his tongue swiped a wide stripe through them, and the sound that emerged from your throat startled even you.

 “You like that?”

 “Yes… oh my god, please do that again!”

 “With pleasure!”

 “The pleasure is all mine…”

 “Henry?”

 “Yes?”

 “Please shut up and get on with it” you grinned at him, before he dipped his face back between your legs and went to town. His tongue was seemingly everywhere, grunts and moans as he worked you open, and when he slipped his tongue into the ring of muscle at your entrance your eyes shot open and you giggle-moaned at the unfamiliar but not unpleasant experience. When a finger found your clit you relaxed again, laying back and enjoying the pleasure he was selflessly giving you. 

 Gripping at the bedcovers you found your hips started to move on their own, only for Henry to press a strong arm across your stomach to hold you in place, pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm. When it finally did hit your body reacted instinctively; your legs wrapping themselves around his head, your back arching and your fingers almost tearing through the fabric of the sheets, before you finally went limp. As your mind was nothing but stars a muffled voice came through the haze of your post orgasmic bliss;

 “If i could get some oxygen…”

 Not realising your legs were still firmly wrapped around Henry’s head, you quickly released him, his head popping up from beneath your thighs. His cheeks were flushed red and his chin was wet, and it took you a moment to realise you were the cause for the wetness. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand before standing and grabbing a bottle of water to pass to you;

 “You’re gonna need to rehydrate after that…”

 You went to take the bottle from him but the bulging tent in his sweatpants distracted you, your hand pausing mid air before Henry laughed;

 “Drink first, then you can play with it”

 “Oh… I… “

 “Drink”

 Taking the bottle you sipped at the tepid liquid as he lay on the bed beside you. When you’d finished he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his firm chest before kissing you softly;

 “Are you ready for round two?”

 “Can i touch you too?”

 A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he nodded, watching as you eased the elastic of his sweats down and his heavy cock sprang free. Your jaw fell as you took in his size, but before you could overthink it he pressed a kiss to your lips as his hands wandered between your thighs. 

 Reaching out you wrapped your fingers around him as his own slid between your folds, dancing over your clit before he pressed a single digit inside you, your eyes going wide and your hand squeezing him involuntarily. 

 “Does that feel good?”

 You nodded;

 “Yes, a little strange that i’m not in control, but i think that’s what makes it even more exciting”

 “That’s good… now, how about another finger?”

 Nodding again you bit your lip as he slid a second finger in alongside the first, your eager hole stretching around his digits. Instinctively you had started to move your hand up and down his shaft, doing little more than gentle movements, but soon the pair of you got into a rhythm, working together to leave your breaths in time with the others.

 “Doing so well for me… so wet. Shall we try a third?”

 Nodding you let out a quiet ‘uh-huh’ as he repositioned his hand, carefully sliding three fingers into your soaked velvet channel, and the noise that came from your throat was base and full of sin. When his thumb started to rub against your clit while he continued to work three fingers inside you the spring in your belly snapped and you were coming hard, shaking around his hand.

 As you came down from your high Henry carefully withdrew his fingers, salaciously licking them clean before he got off the bed and went to the drawer in the little cabinet, pulling out a condom.

 “Oh… i’m on the pill…” you blurted out; “You don’t have to… In fact i’d really like to feel you, you know… bare…”

 Tearing the packet open he grinned at you;

 “I get that… but you’re gonna be in makeup in less than 12 hours” he knelt on the bed as he started to roll the latex down his angry dick.

 “Umm yeah?”

 “Well its something you’d only know from experience, but it can take up to 24 hours for a guys cum to fully leak out of you”

 “Oh…”

 “And your costume and makeup gets pretty intimate, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah…”

 “So you want Iris in makeup to be able to smell my cum dripping out of you when she’s painting your snatch purple tomorrow?” he said with a grin on his face, rolling the condom down fully before positioning himself between your legs

 “I gotta be honest, the idea that someone realises i’ve had sex is kinda kinky” you craned your neck up to kiss him as you felt his dick notch at the entrance to your cunt; “But you’re the expert here”

 “That i am… Let me show you just how much of an expert…”

 With a smooth roll of his hips he pushed into you and the feeling was indescribable, in fact it was so overwhelming you screwed your eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall, but Henry simply held still, kissing each one of your tears as they fell down your cheeks until you were ready.

 “Breathe babe… just breathe… it’s overwhelming i know… i understand…”

 Opening your eyes you gazed up at him, smiling as he leaned down and kissed you softly.

 “Are you ok?”

 “Y-yeah…”

 “You want me to keep going?”

 “Please… oh god please”

 “Gonna make you feel so good”

 He carefully pulled his hips back before pushing into you again, seemingly getting deeper before pulling out again. Soon you were lost in the moment, feelings both physical and emotionally almost overwhelming you again as your body was taken to new heights of pleasure, Henry seemingly knowing exactly how to make the moment special for you.

 Your body reacted in the best way, the tight spring inside you curling ever tighter, until with just the right roll of his hips he tipped you over the edge and you were coming hard, your body squeezing him so tight he knew he’d found heaven whilst you saw stars. 

 Whilst you were in the haze of your orgasm you heard the most beautiful moans, and felt as Henry came deep within you. As soon as he stopped shaking he wrapped his arms around you tightly, pressing his face to your neck as he cradled the back of your head with his massive hand, pressing soft kisses to your heated skin as you both basked in the aftershocks of your intense orgasms.

 Finally Henry pushed himself up to bear his weight on one arm, sliding his other hand between your bodies to hold the condom in place as he carefully pulled out of you;

 “I’m just gonna get rid of this… stay here”

 You watched his peachy ass as he quickly mad his way to the bathroom, hearing water running before he reappeared moments later with a damp washcloth. Sitting delicately beside you he carefully cleaned you up, and when he was finished he pulled the duvet over your naked body as he quickly got rid of the cloth and joined you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you to his chest;

 “Are you ok?”

 “I think so… Did i make a mess of your bed?”

 “No. No blood”

 “Really? I thought…”

 “If you’re relaxed enough you may not bleed… or you may have simply ruptured your hymen just through every day life. A fall, tampons, strenuous exercise… didn’t you do a horseriding movie a couple of years back?”

 “Y-yeah…” you cast your mind back; “Now you mention it, there was one really long day when i’d spent all day shooting a galloping scene with jumps… i just thought my period was coming early, and i had this really dull ache in my lower back… i guess that makes sense now…”

 “So… you’re good? Feel ok about filming tomorrow?”

 You nodded;

 “Yeah, i’m good. Thank you” You looked up at him and saw he was chewing his lip nervously; “What?”

 “I was wondering… you know… after we’ve finished filming tomorrow… did you want to go to dinner with me?”

 “Like a date?”

 “Yeah… hey i understand if you say no… that you want to concentrate on your role and acting…”

 “No! I mean yes!” you took a deep breath; “I’d love to go to dinner with you”

 He pressed a kiss to your cheek before you settled on his chest, his strong heartbeat beating beneath your ear as you let your eyelids drop and you fell asleep in his arms.

 -

 Iris tutted as you fidgeted;

 “Will you stand still? I need to get these scales on!”

 “Sorry Iris… just a little sore…”

 The older woman looked up at you as she held the patch of purple scales prosthetic and grinned;

 “Well its about time” she nodded to the various bottles and jars that were on the counter; “Make sure you take the coconut oil when you leave tonight, it’ll help get the adhesive off without pulling on any bruises”

 You looked down at Iris and smiled;

 “Thanks Iris”

 “Was it worth it?”

 “So worth it”

[sugar-quilled]

when stars align

a/n: this is fluff wrapped in unnecessary plot. my bad.

summary: star gazing date

genre: fluff

word count: 1.8k

pronouns: she/her

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

Spring came very suddenly this year. Many students had feared that there wouldn't be sunny weather to look forward to after exams ended, but the clouds parted on the last day, and there was a great hurrying to the castle grounds and enjoy a well deserved break. Quite a few students had taken to soaring around the Quidditch pitch, throwing around a Quaffle and chatting about summer plans. As you made your way out to the courtyard, absolutely determined to forget about the entirety of your Astrology exam, a very handsome owl came swooping down from a tree nearby to land on your shoulder. You quickly accepted the very small square of parchment clamped in its beak, and recognized it as Draco's eagle owl. You smiled at the bird, gave it a quick pet on the head, and turned the parchment piece around. In very tidy writing, it read:

Meet me at the courtyard? 8 pm. Send an answer back - Draco

"Date night?" a voice behind you said. You swung around to see Daphne Evergreen's eyes peering over your unoccupied shoulder and grinned.

"Seems like you know the answer to that question already, Daph."

"Sure do. Will you let me do your hair? I saw a Ravenclaw with a really beautiful half up half down kind of look and it'll really be gorgeous on you. Pity I could never pull it off."

"Don't lie to yourself," you said, swinging your bag off your shoulder, "bangs do grow out you know. And yes, absolutely." The owl readjusted its footing and tugged on your hair, as if telling you that it didn't have all day to listen to two girls talk. You walked quickly off the path, said goodbye to Daphne with the promise of meeting her in the dormitory in a few minutes, and dug around your school bag for a quill and ink. Unscrewing the bottle, you sat down on the grass and wrote back,

Answer is yes, pretty boy.

Draco's owl immediately snatched the parchment out of your hand, and took off towards the owlery.

time skip to 7:50

"Daphne you're brushing too hard," you muttered as she tugged forcefully on your hair. You two had been planning your outfit for about 4 hours now, taking a 30 minute break at 5 to shovel down perhaps the fastest dinner you had ever eaten and running right back up to the dormitory.

"I've never ever seen your hair with this many knots. Have you been crawling around some underbrush? There's a twig in here. How could you have possibly gotten a twig in your hair?"

"I don't know? Maybe it was Draco's ow- OW! Daphne, please, my head's attached to the other end of those strands! Couldn't you just use some Sleekeazy's? There should be a bottle in my drawer."

"NO! It'll ruin your natural waves!" she cried, frantic. "It's 7:52 already! You're due in 8 minutes! And we've still got earrings to choose and you didn't say which shoes yet!"

"I'll do without earrings! And I thought I said the oxfords were fine!" you answered, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as Daphne tugged harder still.

"Hang on, just give me one second, I'm nearly there, you've just got this big lump that I've been trying to get through this past half hour."

With the hardest tug yet, Daphne undid the knot, pulling out quite a few hairs in the process, and let out a very tired cheer. You stood up straight and turned back at her.

"Okay, well you've got your top," she said, dropping the brush and moving forward to tuck the black scoop neck into your jeans, "jeans, necklace looks fine, hair looks gorgeous, and do you want to borrow my purse? It'll fit th-"

"Daphne I'm just going to the courtyard! What do I need a bloody purse for?" You half-yelled, massaging a very sore spot on the back of your head.

"You're right, you're right," Daphne said as you stepped into your oxfords, "well then off you go! It's 7:56, you've got plenty of time. Tell me all about it when you get back!"

"Yes, of course. Bye, Daphne!" You shouted, already half-way out the door.

The trip out to the courtyard seemingly took less than a minute, but in your hurried state, there was no way you counted the seconds properly. It was almost completely empty, with only two or three pairs of students still playing gobstones. You spotted Draco, and immediately felt a rosy color creep over your cheeks.

Draco was wearing a white button down and some neatly pressed black pants, an attire that looked suspiciously like his school uniform without a cloak. No complaints were had though, as he looked impossibly handsome.

A large, grayish green picnic blanket had been set down on the floor. Several puffy pillows had been layered down on top of it, alongside a very big, very fluffy blanket.

He turned around, a very expensive looking bouquet of flowers in hand, and gave you a quick smile before striding towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

You blushed and placed a kiss below his jawline before entwining your hand in his. He gestured towards the blanket—"after you, dear"—and the two of you sat down.

"This set up looks lovely, Draco" you said, readjusting to face him.

"I'm glad you're impressed by my effort" he replied, handing you the bouquet. It was a darling little thing of daisies, baby's breath, and lavender. Pixie dust sparkled on each flower. "I'm sure you want to know what I have planned for today?"

You leaned closer to him, and answered mockingly, "What is it dear Draco? Do tell me!"

"Star gazing."

You leaned back and and noticed a small telescope placed beside a pillow to your right. Knowing his absolute disdain for Astrology, you smiled. "Why the sudden change in interest?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's supposed to be romantic. And anyways, stars are pretty when they aren't for analyzing. Come here, the sun's about to set." He pulled you fully onto his lap, facing away from him, and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

The sky was indeed dimming, brilliant strokes of orange turned pink, then purple, and finally gave way to an inky night sky. You had settled very comfortably, head against his chest, as his chin rested on the top of your head. The big blanket covered you both, and as you sat up, reaching towards the telescope to get a closer look at what seemed to be Scorpius, a very sharp "Malfoy!" startled the both of you. Professor McGonagall was storming towards you.

"What do you two think you're doing? It's nearly a quarter past ten and I feel the need to remind you that that is past your curfew. 5 points from Slytherin, and you best both be hurrying back to your dormitories."

Completely abandoning the picnic things and apologizing briefly to McGonagall, you two ran back towards the Slytherin common room, slowing only when you reached a familiar stone wall.

"Serpentine," you muttered to the wall, which then rumbled and shifted so that a corridor that lead to the common room appeared. As you walked down the passage, you thanked Draco for the flowers and date.

"It did get cut short, but it was very enjoyable. Thank you for planning it." You gave him a smile, a peck on the cheek, and made to turn for the girls' dormitories, but Draco grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards the boys'.

"Dray, what are you doing?" You hissed, "Goyle, Crabbe, Theo, and Blaise are probably sleeping by now."

Draco looked back at you with a signature smirk and continued to drag you up the stairs, leaving you with no choice but to follow.

He opened the door to his dormitory to show it completely empty.

"They've got detention today. Convenient."

"Draco! You gave them detention?"

"Well, I didn't really give them detention, I just gave them the opportunity to be given det-"

"Alright, alright," you muttered, coming to the conclusion that one nights' worth of detention for the boys couldn't be that bad. You drew open the curtains next to Draco's bed, revealing a tall, arched window and the starry night sky, framed like a painting behind the glass.

"This view is incredible," you breathed, snuggling into Draco's bed, which smelt like cologne and mint, resting your head against the headboard, and watching Draco rest himself beside you and lay his head on your chest. He turned so that you both were facing the window, and then wrapped his arms securely around you. One hand tangled in his hair, the other resting on his lower back, you turned to look at the stars with him.

Each was dotted with precision into the inky background, looking nothing like a nature of the universe and everything like a craftsman's work of art. You'd heard so many people marvel at those that shone brighter, more captivating to the eye, but to you, it was the small little specks that were worth more. They filled the gaps that the larger ones couldn't, and made the skies irregular and breathtakingly beautiful. Stars move, so that no night sky is ever the same as the previous, and maybe it was that Draco was by your side, but no combination of stars had ever presented such a beautiful picture before.

"Draco, you see those four stars? How they're in a line?"

Draco looked up sleepily at the window, muttering "pretty" before slumping down again.

"Prettier than me?" You laughed, pushing a few strands of hair off his forehead.

"Nothing's prettier than you, baby, you know that." He muttered drowsily, rolling onto his back so that he could look straight up at you.

You leaned over and brushed the tip of your nose against his. He hummed softly in response and wrapped two arms around your neck, bringing you into a kiss.

"I love you," you whispered after breaking away, shifting yourself out from under Draco so that you two were now eye to eye.

He pulled you onto his chest. "I love you too baby. And I'll get you another bouquet tomorrow since todays' is probably wilting as we speak."

You giggled softly, and with the promise of, you both promptly fell asleep.

pov switch

When Goyle, Crabbe, Theo, and Blaise entered their dormitory after two hours worth of scrubbing the floor, they found Draco entwined with a certain girl, her hand in his hair, his wrapping her close and snug against his chest. The curtains next to Draco's bed were still drawn open, so that the uncountable stars winked down at the couple. The boys knew better than to wake them up, so Goyle drew the drapes around the four poster closed, and they headed off to bed.

[bonjour-rainycity]

Late in the Night | Part Two

Previous Part

Pairing: One-sided ( or is it ;) ) Legolas x Female Reader

Rating: G

Word count: 1416

Warnings: None

A/n Okay friends, oops. I wrote the first chapter in the first person and suddenly decided that I want to do the rest of it in the third. This is why I usually outline my fics but this one I wrote on a whim — whoops! Sorry about that. Maybe one day I’ll go back and fix it, but for now I’ll just leave it as is. And also, I’m taking a lot of setting and characterization liberties with this story because it’s just something I want to have fun with rather than extensively plan out. Hope you don’t mind :)

Legolas’ POV

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

As he walks, Legolas berates himself, and as he berates himself, he continues to walk.

Because really, there’s no break from either.

He replays the moment from the night before over and over in his head and just can’t work it out. Something he said seemed to have damaged his relationship with Y/n. She was still friendly to him, but distant. Something he did or said or a facial expression he made, maybe, seemed to take all the warmth from their interactions, the warmth that she usually reserved just for him.

Or, he thought she did.

Maybe he was reading too much into things. Maybe there was never any special look just for him, or a softness in her voice when she said his name only, or a light in her eyes when he made her laugh. Maybe he was completely wrong, and they weren’t teetering on the edge of something more than friends.

Doesn’t she know that elves take things extremely seriously, and he wouldn’t have offered to bring her home with him, introduce her to his father and his people, and help her build a life in his homeland if he didn’t….if he didn’t….

But it doesn’t matter, he grumbles inwardly. Because it’s obvious she doesn’t feel the same way. She must have realized the gravity of what it meant when I offered, and is now trying to tell me she doesn’t want that.

But even as his head tries to convince him to let her go, to let the tenderness he feels for her fade away, his eyes find hers. She notices his gaze, and raises a questioning eyebrow. It’s accompanied by a kind smile, but that’s the smile she gives everyone. Foolishly—possessively—immaturely, he wishes to see his smile again.

He tears his eyes from hers, trying to pull himself out of his own head. Instead, he turns his focus to his senses, exploring the area around them, doing his part to keep his companions safe. After all, it’s nearly sunset, and as the light fades, so does the eyesight of many. His ears pick up on something far in the distance, and he jogs to catch up with Aragorn.

“Are you sure about this?”

Aragorn falls into step with his friend. “I have considered the risk extensively, and there is no avoiding it. We need to resupply, and I fear not only for morale but for physical health if we don’t all get a proper meal and rest safe from the elements. Besides, it’s a sizable but remote human village, quite isolated from the rest of the world. By the time news of our presence travels, we will be long gone on an alternate path.”

Legolas nods, accepting his wise friend’s assessment. Even to him, the idea of an actual rest holds great appeal — he can’t even imagine the pull it will have for his friends.

Eventually, the others begin to notice that, rather than going in a wide berth around the rising smoke that hints at a town, they head straight for it. Legolas can physically feel their excitement, and can’t stop from feeling a bit giddy himself.

Aragorn calls for a halt in the woods near the town’s gate, and the group gathers close. They are still concealed, and Legolas wonders if Aragorn has changed his mind, if he’s going to make them go back?

But thankfully, Aragorn has no such intentions. In fact, he has a very different sort of plan.

“Right,” he starts, fixing them all with a level stare. “We cannot enter all ten of us at once, that would be too conspicuous. Instead, we shall go in smaller groups that still make strategic sense. There is to be no interaction between the groups, except for pleasantries that you would exchange with anyone else. We will take staggered entrances and leave the same way, meeting up tomorrow morning a mile west. I know this town, and it has two small inns — we will split ourselves between them. Gandalf and I will go first to the inn on the West side of town. After half an hour has passed, Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Merry — you all will join us. Shortly after I leave, so shall Boromir and Gimli, but to the inn on the East side. After a good amount of time has passed, Legolas and Y/n, you join them.”

The companions grin, finding excitement in Aragorn’s game of deception, but Legolas feels a sense of unease grow in his stomach. He has not been alone with Y/n since last night, and a tension has obviously arisen between them. He turns his head to find Y/n avoiding his gaze, but she does not protest to Aragorn’s grouping of them, so neither does he. Perhaps their time alone will give them the chance to sort out whatever he’s done to upset her.

As decided, Aragorn and Gandalf leave first, followed closely by Boromir and Gimli. Y/n sits on the ground chatting quietly with Pippin and Merry, while Legolas joins Sam to guard Frodo, as they know Aragorn would want them to do. When enough time has passed for the hobbits to leave, Y/n waves them goodbye, wishing them sweet dreams in a warm bed.

The silence of the night that Legolas had become so accustomed to is marred by the harsh nosies of the human town. It doesn’t seem to bother Y/n, who raises herself from the ground and peeks curiously through the trees. “You know, it’s the first time in months we’ve all slept apart from each other.” Legolas finds himself perplexed as Y/n shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “Gosh, I sound so codependent.”

But Legolas just smiles, knowing well the sort of bond that forms between those who fight together. “No, I understand. It will be strange. But it might be nice to have a room all to yourself. None of Gimli’s snoring to worry about.”

Y/n snorts, crossing her arms and regarding Legolas with the smile he had been aching to see all day.

But as quickly as it appears, it fades from her face, replaced with a contemplative set in her brow. She looks conflicted, but he can’t for the life of him figure out why. She doesn’t take her eyes from his, and he’s too captivated to look away. Legolas takes a step forward, the darkness and her eyes and just her calling to him, asking him to come closer. Is he imagining the spark of hope in her eyes? Valar, he prays not.

Somehow, he finds himself standing right in front of her, when just seconds ago he’d been at least a yard away. Y/n tilts her head up to look at him, and the way the moon sparkles in her eyes and lights the soft curve of her cheek — he feels his hand raise, he wanted to brush his fingers and see if it’s as smooth as it looks. He wants to hold her in his arms, and beg her to forgive him for whatever wrong he committed that kept her warmth from him that day.

Y/n worries her bottom lip, still looking up at him with those wide, guarded eyes. He sees something shift in them, and knows a decision had been made, but what?

“Legolas, I need to—”

Crack!

Legolas has his bow nocked and whirls around before he even has time to fully register the sound.

He notices the squeak of hinges that accompanies the sharp smack of the wood, and lowers his bow, feeling startled still, despite the innocent nature of the noise.

“It’s alright,” he mutters to Y/n, who has only just pulled her knives from their scabbards. Absently, he feels worry for his human friend, who, with the slow reflexes that are a fault of her kin, could have already been killed, had the threat been serious. “It’s just the gate.”

“Oh.” She blinks, and puts her weapons away somewhat stiffly. “We should go, shouldn’t we? No sense in standing around in the dark longer than necessary.”

Legolas turns his head back to her, and knows the moment has passed. The certainty he saw before has vanished, and the wall between them risen again.

He returns his bow to his back, trying to ignore the crushing disappointment he feels. “Right. After you.” He waves her forward, and they start on the path to the gate.

A/n So now we’ve got a look into Legolas’ head! What did you think? Likes, comments, and reblogs make me so so happy, and let me know if you would like a tag :) 

Masterlist

Next part

Tag list: @angelic-kisses13 @lainphotography @anangelwhodidntfall

[pluviophile-imagines]

3 for bakugo or todoroki

I decided to do Bakugo for this, & then I got this ask after I closed the prompts for this event so I decided to go ahead and do it because it’s actually one of only two Halloween-related ones and I was planning to make this Werewolf!Bakugo anyway lol. This is a fun little AU that just kinda swaps quirks for supernatural creatures, loosely based off of a bunch of campy halloween stuff like Halloweentown and Sabrina The Teenage Witch. Also, the werewolves have destined mates like those dumb Wattpad novels, because sometimes tropes are fun and cute. Also this is THREE TIMES AS LONG AS I MEANT TO MAKE ALL OF THESE but ive also gotten like five??? individual asks for it 😭😭😭so y’all better not let it flop.

3: kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s

Though you’ve known Bakugo pretty much your whole life, there’s a lot about werewolves that you don’t know.

If he were a different person, he probably wouldn’t be telling you at 5:47 on his 21st birthday that he’s apparently supposed to figure out who his soulmate is going to be tonight. If he weren’t so closed off, even to his best friend of over a decade and a half, then perhaps you wouldn’t be having this conversation, and perhaps it wouldn’t feel quite like pulling teeth.

“You have a soulmate?” is really all you can say, because most of your mental capacity is going towards keeping the sob in the back of your throat from being audible.

“Yeah,” he grunts. He’s not even looking at you, because he’s holding his phone in one hand and he’s scrolling through it, and though the two of you are sitting on opposite sides of the couch he has your feet in his lap, free arm wrapped all the way around them like he doesn’t want you to leave. “It’s… I dunno. Kinda cool, I guess.”

“All of you have soulmates?”

“Well, yeah. You witches don’t?”

You wrinkle your nose, trying your hardest to ignore the burning at the backs of your eyes. “No. We don’t.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see him purse his lips, as if troubled by the revelation. “Huh. How d’you know who’s the one, then?”

“We just. Figure it out? I guess. Is this why you’ve never dated anyone?”

“Yeah. Not really interested in anyone but my destined.”

He says it so easily, but you know him well enough to understand. He likes the idea of a soulmate; he’s looking forward to figuring out who they are tonight. Who would have guessed that he was a romantic?

It’s awful. It makes your chest burn. You’d only come to terms with your crush on the guy two months ago. Now he’s gonna be taken from you by some random person he’s never met?

No, you suppose, he’s always belonged to them. That’s how it works, right?

“D’you know who it’ll be?”

“Hah? No, dumbass, if I did that would defeat the purpose.” Bakugo pauses, glancing over at you with just his eyes, then darting them away just as fast. It’s probably just a trick of the light, but you could swear he blushes a little as he mumbles, “I know who I want it to be, though.”

Your eyes widen and you lean up, pulling your legs back (ignoring the way his hands tense before letting them go as if he wants to hold on) so that you can kneel on them right next to him. “Who?”

“Not happening.”

“Bakugo,” you whine, drawing out the last syllable of his name.

“I’m not telling you, brat.”

You lean forward, prodding at his cheek. “Is it Mina?”

“No.”

“Jirou?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Kirishima?”

Bakugo growls out your name, a warning, but you don’t pull away, getting even closer until you’re practically draped over him.

“Todoroki?”

He grabs you, whipping towards you as his arms fly up to wrap around your waist and yank you off him, tossing you back to your side of the couch as you shriek in laughter. He’d never hurt you, you know, and roughhousing like this is hardly new in your friendship; plus, well, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been hoping to feel his big, warm hands like this. Despite all his surprises tonight, he’s still all too predictable, and you’d seen this coming a mile away.

What you don’t see coming is him pausing, braced with one arm against the couch all too close to you, holding his torso over you with his head right above yours. And he stares, those crimson eyes unreadable with an expression you’ve never seen before, locked entirely on you.

You can feel his chest rising and falling steadily against yours, and your own eyes are drawn to where his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. You’re frozen, unable to move though you’d hardly want to anyway, and it hits you like a brick what he’s really been saying the whole night.

You open your mouth to speak, but then the hazy tension is shattered by the shrill sound of his phone.

Bakugo lunges away, pulls back with inhuman werewolf speed, grabbing his phone as he leaps to his feet. “‘S my mom, sundown’s soon, I have to go.”

“Wait, Bakugo—”

“See ya tomorrow, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, already half out the door.

“Katsuki,” you try, desperate, and it makes him freeze.

The door is open, his knuckles are pale with how tight he’s gripping the knob, but as much as you’ve tried it’s not enough. He’s gone without another word.

You don’t get to sleep that night.

It’s dumb; he’ll lecture you in the morning as he tells you all about his perfect amazing werewolf destined—that was what he’d called it, right? You prefer soulmate. Mate is a wolf thing anyway—who he’s spending all night with, running around in the forest howling at the moon and making out or whatever.

You stay out in the den, curled up on the couch with a blanket draped around you, ice cream in your lap, and an old movie playing that you’re not really listening to because you’ve been too wrapped up in your own head.

For an instant, you’d been so sure. A mere moment of absolute certainty that he was just as in love with you as you are him, that your oblivious pining for years was actually reciprocated. In the hours since he’d pinned you to the couch, you’d convinced yourself otherwise.

Imagine your surprise when there’s a frantic knocking at your door.

It startles you, making you jump about ten feet up in the air, and you freeze on the couch with wide eyes and a gaping mouth staring directly at the solid wood that seems to be shaking in its hinges. You’re halfway to casting a protection charm when a familiar gruff voice shouts your name from outside.

“I know you’re awake, I can hear you in there! Open the damn door!”

You glance at the time to find that it’s just under fifteen minutes to midnight. Awfully soon for him to be done, but you rise from your spot on the couch with the blanket still wrapped around your shoulders and move to let Bakugo in.

“Coming,” you say, not bothering to be loud because you know he can hear even the shifting of your clothes beneath the blanket.

He looks downright feral when you open the door, panting slightly, hair mussed up, eyes wild. But when he sees you, they light up, happy and excited like a damn puppy.

“Are you drunk?”

“Uh… kinda?”

“...Magical bullshit?”

He nods, a rough toss of his head to affirm. “Ancient rituals. Tipsy’s more accurate, if anything. Figured out who my destined is.”

“And you came to me? Shouldn’t you be with your soulmate, then?”

Bakugo blinks, clearly stunned, barking out a burst of laughter before shaking his head. “You’re somethin’ dumbass.”

You go to respond, more than a little insulted because he’s been acting so fucking weird all day and he has the nerve to say you’re being dumb, but any retort is flung from your mind as he steps forward and puts his hands on your arms.

Leaning in until your noses are practically touching, he speaks. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

“H—huh?” you stutter out, heart stopping and mind reeling with his words.

“I wanted it to be you. And it’s you.” His hands slide down your arms to meet yours. “You’re my destined.”

There’s so much more to say, so much to ask him, everything ranging from but I’m a witch, how is that possible to so we could have been fucking dating this whole time but he doesn’t let you speak, clearly too overjoyed and inebriated, and you’re not entirely opposed when he yanks you in with exactly the level of roughness you’d imagine from him and kisses you.

And finally, finally, after a decade and a half of wanting to (longer than you even knew what kissing was), you can melt into him.

You believe him then, not that you particularly doubted. It’s like his lips are the missing piece to a puzzle, one you’ve been looking for your whole life. He holds you up with ease, werewolf strength coming in handy, as one hand laces with your own and the other darts to the small of your back. He’d be holding you closer, but you’re literally as close as you could be, body curving against him as his taller form hunches over you.

He kisses you far more sweetly than you’d have expected; no teeth or tongue but still all passion, heavy palm and fingers splayed across your back as the other hand pulls you and grounds you. It’s heated and it makes you forget that you’re both standing in the middle of the open front door at midnight.

You’re both reluctant to break away, you can tell because you both linger a little, bodies frozen as the kiss is followed by one, two, three more just as feverish but decreasing in length. Then the two of you pull away for real (not by much, no, he’s holding you far too intensely for you to get far) and you stumble backwards pulling him by his shirt into your home. He gets the hint, following and shutting the door behind you but not letting either of you make it very far beyond.

“All right,” you say finally, breathless both from the kiss and from giddy laughter bubbling up within you, “all right, you’re my soulmate.”

Bakugo kisses you again.

[sergeantsporks]

Day After Day

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Life in the coven seems glamorous on the surface, but there's a lot of work in being a coven leader. Hunter can handle it. He CAN.

Ao3

Alarm. Shut it off.

Hunter blinked blearily at the tiny demon determinedly chomping his arm. He flicked its eye to get it to stop and peeled it off, tossing it to his counter. He rubbed his eyes, lying in bed for just a second—just one more minute.

Okay. That was enough. It was time to get up.

He needed to get up.

Up, or you’re late, and Kikimora will notice, and Belos will notice, and the whole coven will notice.

Technically, he was up an hour earlier than he had to be. Technically, he wasn’t even close to being late, because the rest of the coven wouldn’t even begin to get up for another hour.

Get up.

Hunter rolled off of his bed, flipping on the lights, because the sun hadn���t risen yet. His alarm demon had gone back to sleep.

Wish that were me.

Tunic, on, armor, on, cloak, on, pinned with the symbol of the emperor’s coven. Shoulder pad, on. Hunter picked up his mask, and a sick feeling swept over him.

I don’t want to put it on. I’m so sick of it. I just want to leave it off and breathe without it tasting like metal.

No. It kept him safe. It was protection from the outside world. He needed it.

Mask on. Hood up.

Down to the mess hall. No one else was up, and that included the chef demons—they’d wake up in about half an hour to start cooking breakfast for the coven scouts and guards. Hunter turned on the lights. Half an hour to cook something up, eat, clean, put everything back.

He set on a kettle, grabbing a mug and a tea ball. Too tired to make breakfast. He usually was. So, tea it was, and he’d get lunch with the rest of the coven—no avoiding that.

The kettle whistled, and Hunter poured the water. Wait awkwardly for the tea to steep. Pour the rest of the water out of the kettle, return it to its place, wipe off the counter where the mug had been to avoid spillage, take tea to cafeteria.

Just like every other day.

Titan.

Sit alone at the table, his mask pulled up just enough that he could fit the mug under, sipping tea that was just a little too hot and a little too bitter.

Good, it would wake him up.

Just like every other morning.

Finish the tea. Ten minutes until the kitchen staff showed up. Wipe off table, clean mug, return it to cabinet. Turn off lights. It was like he’d never been there.

Go to the center office and check for the night patrol reports. There were 2, one for each shift. Both were a quick read and a quick file. Nothing eventful.

The coven was starting to stir, a few early risers up and about. They gave respectful nods to him as he passed them in the hallway, and he gave them acknowledgement nods back.

Wish I had time for a nap.

But it was just about time for him to designate the day’s patrols, and after that he had guard duty in the Emperor’s throne room for matters of state, and then it would be time for lunch, and then the first round of reports would be in, and he’d have to read those, and then he’d have his own patrol, and then it would be time for his daily exercise routine and then it would be dinner time, and then finally he’d have just a little bit of time to himself, but at that point it would be too late to take a nap, because that would mean he wouldn’t fall asleep later, and anyway, he’d need to be awake to read and file the last set of reports before the night shift, and then it would be time to do a sweep of the castle before everything settled down and then it would be time to go to sleep so that he could get an adequate amount of rest for tomorrow.

Obviously he didn’t have any time to take a nap right now.

And the day progressed exactly as he knew it would. Organize the scouts, guard the emperor, lunch, reports, patrol (nothing eventful), training, dinner. And then he was in his room, and he could finally take off the mask completely and breathe freely.

Hunter flipped the cover of a book back and forth. Opened it up to the page he’d left out on. Sighed. Set it aside. Picked up a different book. Set it down. Picked up his staff, starting to polish it, then setting that aside, too. Picked up the first book again, and stared at the page he’d been on for a few minutes without reading it. Closed it again.

He really just wanted to go to sleep. But he couldn’t, or he wouldn’t sleep tonight.

You like reading. Just read a book. It’ll make you happy.

He picked up the book, flipping the cover back and forth again, staring at the page.

He just couldn’t summon the willpower to actually read it.

You’ve been looking forward to it all day, what’s wrong with you? You like to read, just read the book!

I just don’t have the energy.

And then it was time to look at the patrol reports. Mask back on, trudge back to the office.

See, you didn’t really have the time to read anyway.

Hunter flipped through reports without reading them, putting his head down on the desk.

I’m too tired for this.

I should have taken that nap.

He flicked himself in the head. “Focus, you need to get this done. You said you’d get it done, you came down here to do it, no getting distracted, just do it.”

One of the reports contained a demon sighting, a real nasty large one.

Huh. He’d have to make sure the patrols to that area were briefed on the possible danger, maybe assign larger patrols. He felt sick just thinking about rearranging the size, changing the routine of the coven—it was a lot of work.

Sounds like a tomorrow problem.

Yes. It was too late to worry about it now—there was nothing he could do at the moment, he’d just have to figure out the change tomorrow, when he assigned patrols.

Nightly inspection.

Nothing wrong. Everything in order. No problems.

Hunter unpinned his cape, hanging it up neatly. Tunic left for laundry, armor and belt hung up with cape. Helmet on the bedside table.

Teeth brushed, face washed, all in order.

Hunter was asleep when his head hit the pillow.

Alarm. Shut it off.

Hunter didn’t for a minute, until the biting of the alarm demon got too painful to ignore. He flicked it away.

Titan. Just. Let me lie here for a second.

No. You put off redesigning those patrols, so you have to get an extra early start, now get up.

Uniform.

Tea.

Night shift reports—a little faster than usual, mostly skimming. No sighting of that demon.

Figure out those patrols.

Hunter thumped his head against the desk repeatedly.

Figure out the patrols.

Come on, stupid brain, focus.

Okay. He could make the patrols not going through the area with the sighting a bit smaller—there hadn’t been any incidents in those sectors, so they didn’t need a full patrol. And then he could just add those extra people to the patrols going through the hot spot, warn all patrols to be on the lookout, and… the new patrols needed to be particularly well-balanced, with a mix of defense and offense. So he couldn’t just shift patrol members from one side to another, he had to redesign the entire schedule to make the best teams.

Should have looked at this last night.

Well, you didn’t, because you never learn this lesson, now redesign the patrols.

He was late out of the office to see the early risers, hurrying to the briefing room where he explained the situation, handed out the new assignments, warned the scouts to be on their guard and to call for backup if necessary, then hurried off to the throne room.

This was the closest thing he got to a break until after dinner. Sure, he had to stand ramrod straight and hold still unless it was necessary to move, but at least he didn’t have to think, at least not the way he had to when he was designing patrols. He just had to be alert.

Lunch.

Reports.

Patrol was nice. He finally got to be alone, no one looking for direction or asking him to do something.

Lilith had never done patrols when she was coven head—but then, she’d had her special assignment of capturing the owl lady.

Oh. Oh, right, Lilith had also had to organize Covention, which would… now be his job. He should probably get on that—except he didn’t really have the time to organize Covention, because he only barely had enough time to get the DAILY things done, he didn’t have time for a major project like Covention!

Whatever. Whatever, he’d just have to get ahead on some patrol schedules, and then he’d have the time. It would be fine, he just had to work a little harder now, and start planning early. He could use some of his free time, it wasn’t like he was managing to do anything he actually wanted to do anyway.

Hunter finished the patrol—nothing to report, nothing of note.

Training.

Dinner—he just grabbed some food from the mess hall and headed up to his room, scarfing down a piece of bread while he planned the next week’s worth of patrols.

He could skip the nightly check tonight—it technically wasn’t one of his official duties, it just made him feel safer. But tonight he was too busy, he lost track of time looking at old covention shows and speeches.

Hunter rubbed his eyes with a yawn, clearing away his plate. Time… time to go to sleep.

Titan.

Alarm. Shut it off.

I don’t want to.

Get up. Get up, get up, get up.

Hunter ripped the alarm demon off of his arm with a groan, sitting up and scattering old covention records. Titan.

He stacked the papers neatly.

Mask on.

Tea.

Reports.

The patrol reports he’d missed from yesterday marked another demon sighting—and there were a few citizen reports, too, the creature was destroying local shops. Not just a watch anymore, then—he needed to put a price on its head, which meant he needed to take a look at the coven budget.

Later problem.

Shift assignments.

Emperor’s guard.

Titan. Was this it? Doing this for the rest of his life? Was that what he wanted?

Of course it was. Of course it was, of course it was. This was a bright future—looked up to, in command of the most powerful coven, right hand man to his uncle. So what if it got a little monotonous, a little stressful? There were plenty of people who would kill to be in his position.

Public time over. The throne room doors closed. “Golden Guard. It has come to my attention that we have a bit of a demon problem.”

Hunter inclined his head. “Yes, sir. I’ve increased patrol size, and was planning to put out a reward for its capture or destruction.”

“I would prefer if you oversaw this one personally.”

“Personally?” Whoops—he hadn’t meant for that to come out questioning.

“Personally. I know you have a lot on your plate, managing the coven. But I’m certain you can handle this as well, yes?”

Yes, he could handle it. Of course he could handle it, it just meant shifting priorities, and taking up the time he’d set aside for planning covention, and maybe getting behind on the reports for a couple of days while he solved this problem. He could handle it, but that didn’t mean he wanted to. You don’t have to. You could outsource the job to scouts, or put that reward up.

But Emperor Belos wanted him to do it, and Emperor Belos believed he could do it—which he could, no problem—so of course he would, because he couldn’t disappoint the emperor, no matter how much he wished he could just have one focus.

“Of course, Emperor Belos. You can rely on me.”

Okay, okay, okay, he just had to find and kill this thing quick. He skipped lunch, re-reading the reports of the demon. It always appeared in the same spot at around the same time—luckily during his report-reading time, not in the time he would be in the throne room. Simple, easy, go to spot, kill monster, get on with life.

Hunter took a deep breath. Okay. He’d just go with the patrol tomorrow. No big deal.

Patrol, reading a few more reports as roamed his set area.

You wished for something new to break up the monotony, he scolded himself, tucking reports away on his way back.

Training—nope, he was too tired. Not today. He was hungry, too, but mostly he was just. Exhausted. He kept himself together long enough to get to his room, then passed out on his bed.

What time is it?

Hunter blinked blearily at the setting sun outside—past dinner, then. That was fine, he was fine. He’d gotten sleep, and that was what really mattered.

Alarm. Shut it off.

Hunter peeled himself off of his bed with a groan. He didn’t remember falling asleep again.

Maybe I should leave the demon hunt for tomorrow.

No. Nope. He’d put it off long enough, waiting for its normal appearance time instead of tracking it down. He just needed to grit his teeth and get it done.

So after his time guarding the emperor, he went out with the next patrol. And then, there it was, a giant cat-like creature with bat wings and the tail of a scorpion. The rest of the patrol assumed defensive positions, and Hunter zipped forward, shooting bolts of magic at the creature. It yowled, swiping a paw at him. Hunter just barely dodged it—his mind was fuzzy, slow. Maybe he should have made an effort to eat something this morning. Another blast of magic—but that just seemed to be irritating it. Hunter zipped to the side, hitting a tree with his magic instead. It crashed down on top of the demon, pinning it, and he came in for a closer look. Where was its weak—

Hunter rolled to the side as its tail stabbed down towards him. It grazed his leg, and hot pain flooded from the wound.

Too slow, too slow, too slow.

Wait—

Hunter dodged the next tail strike, then slammed his staff against the creature’s tail, using a burst of magic to send the tip of the tail into the creature’s eye. It howled, thrashing.

The scouts jogged up, binding the demon. Some help they’d been—no wonder this thing had been terrorizing people. “Sir! Are you alright?”

Hunter waved them away. “Fine. Just a scratch. Can you handle this?”

“Sir!”

“Good.”

Hunter climbed onto his staff, warping away. Ow—that stung. It was just a scratch, but the creature’s venom made the whole thing throb and itch. He didn’t think it was deadly—none of its attacks on citizens had been fatal, and even stabbing itself in the eye hadn’t killed it. But it sure did hurt.

It’s fine, it’s fine.

Back to the coven. Wrap up the leg, sew up the rip in his pant leg, slap a healing patch on to stop the pain so he could carry through the rest of the day.

Finally eat a meal—but not scarf it down like he wanted to, because other coven members were there, so slow and dignified it was.

Those reports were piling up—I’ll do them later.

Pass out, barely managing to hang up his uniform.

Alarm. Shut it off.

Hunter didn’t move, just staring up at the ceiling, his leg throbbing and pulsing.

Come on. You can do it. Just like every other day. Just… get up.

Just five more minutes. Five more minutes, and then we’ll get up.

No. You have to catch up on all of those reports—because if you can’t get the reports done, you won’t even be caught up to today, and it will just pile up, and you won’t be able to do Covention plans.

Hunter pulled the alarm demon off.

You can do it.

No one will notice if you’re struggling as long as you continue to succeed.

One day at a time.

[faofinn]

No. 19 ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

@whumptober

@whumptober-archive

Knees Buckling | Repeatedly Passing Out | Head Lolling

Fao had been having a fucking awful day. Work had been relentless, endless trauma and so long on his feet he’d forgotten what it felt like to sit down. He’d barely had time to drink, let alone eat, and he knew he was in trouble. He’d spent most of his time in theatre squeezing his leg muscles to keep him upright, aware if he didn’t he was likely to pass out in theatre. Which, needless to say, wouldn’t be ideal. He was a consultant, not a fresh faced medical student. Hell, he’d not even passed out as a med student. 

Of course, the coffee shop was closed when he finally left work, close to 9 that night. No chance of food until he got home, then. And Finn wouldn’t have cooked, so he’d have to find something in the freezer. He loved his brother, but what he wouldn’t give for a housemate that could cook again. 

He wasn’t quite sure how he made it to his car, but he did. He knew he shouldn’t really drive, either, but he had no other options. He needed to get home. Sitting was bliss, and he spent five minutes just breathing, head tipped back. 

Luckily the drive home was quick, the roads quieter given the later hour. He made it back in one piece, parking on the drive and killing the engine. The next challenge would be getting out of the car, but if he took it slowly hopefully he’d be alright. 

He made it upright, grabbed his bag and headed to the door, fumbling with his keys in the lock. Eventually the door swung open, Arrow waiting for him on the doormat. He chucked his keys down on the side, and bent carefully to pat the dog. 

“Finn? I’m back, finally.”

Finn gave a grumble in response, from his nest on the sofa. "Late."

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

"You alright?"?"

Fao shrugged. “Exhausted.”

"There's a spare ready meal in the fridge for you."

“Have you eaten?” He asked tiredly. 

"Yeah."

“Good.” Fao padded out of the room and into the kitchen, the dog eagerly following him. “Did you feed Arrow?”

"He's still hungry."

“But you fed him?”

"Yeah. You were gone ages."

“Shitty day.” Fao said, digging around in the fridge for the food Finn had talked about. 

"Bad cases?"

“Bad everything. Just endless.”

Finn finally made it through to the kitchen. "You look like shit."

“Thanks. I’ve not eaten since ten this morning.” He muttered, shoving the food in the microwave. 

"Have you at least been drinking?"

“Can’t drink in the middle of a case.”

"Go and sit down then."

“Honestly, I’m fine. I had half my bottle today.”

"At least have something now."

“I will.” Fao said, turning back to the fridge to grab a can of drink out. He could use the caffeine, as well as the drink itself. 

"Mum's been getting at me about you."

“Ugh, not your responsibility.” Fao muttered. “You can’t fix the NHS.”

"No, but we live together."

Fao sipped his drink. “I’m an adult I’m still not your responsibility.”

"Could say the same about me."

“Different, you’re my little brother.”

"And? I'm an adult."

Fao shrugged, and the microwave beeped at him. “Still different.”

"Not really."

“I’m fine, though. Mum doesn’t need to worry.”

"Yeah, well. I'm still going to worry."

Fao shrugged and pulled his food from the microwave, wincing at the heat. He didn’t know what to say to Finn, knowing he’d worry whatever he said. There was no point fighting it. 

"Are you working tomorrow? I can’t remember your rota."

“Yeah, but night shift.”

Finn groaned. "Really? That's crappy."

“Trauma doesn’t stop at night. Means I get to sleep more, at any rate.”

"Yeah, fair enough. It's just always worse for us."

“It still sucks.” Fao agreed. 

"You just get to play with the worms." Finn teased. 

“Oh, piss off.” Fao grumbled, padding back to the living room with his food. He flopped on the sofa, feeling decidedly unsteady. 

"I'm not wrong."

“You’re so rude.” He shot back, eating his food. It was hot, and tasty enough, and Fao was definitely hungry. He finished it quickly, and reached forwards to set his plate on the coffee table to free up his lap before he stood up. 

That was a mistake. 

His body finally gave in. His knees buckled, the way they’d been threatening to do all day, and his head lolled as he slumped to the floor, unconscious.

"Fao!" Finn rushed forwards, grabbing his brother to stop him hitting the coffee table. He pulled him onto his side, rubbing Fao's shoulder. 

Fao groaned, coming round after a few minutes. He rolled onto his back, looking up at Finn. “Oops.”

'"Yeah, oops is right." Finn said softly. "I'm telling mum."

Fao rubbed his face. “Sorry. Don’t tell mum.”

"I'm telling mum, whether you apologise or not. You're calling in sick tomorrow too."

“I’ll be fine with some sleep.” He said thickly. 

"Yeah, I don't care."

“At least let me see how I feel?” He protested, struggling to sit up.

"You can sit, but you're not going to work."

“‘M not in for like 20 hours.” He grumbled, finally managing it and leaning against Finn, eyes closed against the dizziness.

Finn wrapped his arms around Fao. "Yeah, I know."

“Be fine wit’ sleep.”

"You can have lots of sleep." He said. "You're still not going to work."

“We’ll see.”

"Can you reach your phone?"

“Mm, why?”

"Can I have it?"

“Why?”

"Because I want it."

“Get your own phone.”

"Dick." He muttered, stretching to reach for his. He grabbed it with a groan and returned to prop Fao up again, scrolling through the contacts. 

“You’re a dick. Are you calling mum?”

"No." He shook his head. It wasn’t technically a lie, their parents shared the landline.

“What are you doing, then? Look, I feel fine.”

He hummed. "You weren't saying that five minutes ago."

“Sure, I fainted, but what’s new? I feel okay, nothing out of the usual. You don’t have to tell on me.”

"I do. Hi, mum! Fao passed out and he's fine but can you talk to him?"

“Finn! You’re such a knob!” Fao protested, smacking his arm.

"Ow!" Finn smacked him back. "And tell him off, he's hitting me!"

"Boys, come on. You're adults."

“He’s being a child!” Fao protested again, reaching for the phone. 

"You're both being children!" She said, though her tone was affectionate. 

Fao rolled his eyes. “Mum, I’m fine, Finn’s just being overdramatic.”

"When are you next seeing your consultant?"

“God knows.”

"You ought to give them a call. We'll come over tomorrow, I'll get Fred to get some shopping in too."

“Fucking hell mum, it was one faint, I’m not dying. I can do my own shopping, I’m 33!”

"And it was one accident with Finn, too. Stop being so stubborn."

“Fuck off, that’s different. I had a shitty long day, didn’t eat or drink enough, and worked a close to 14 hour shift.” He said. “Of course I bloody fainted.”

"I don't think you're proving the point you want to."

Finn had to laugh at that, nudging Fao. "See?"

“What I’m trying to say is that the world isn’t ending, I don’t need to see my consultant and I don’t need you both to rush here and stock up my fridge. I’m an idiot, I didn’t look after myself properly, and I paid the price for it. I should know better.”

"So you'll call in sick? Take some time to put your feet up?"

“Well, I’m going to go to bed and try and get at least 12 hours sleep. If I call in, the department is up shit creek.”

"If you collapse at work, you're all up the creek." She warned. "We'll be over tomorrow if you don't."

“I’ll let you know how I feel in the morning.”

"And then we'll be able to get there for lunch."

“Mum, if I’ve called in sick I’m going to be in bed, not fucking around having lunch with you.”

"So you're gonna stay in bed?"

“If I feel shitty enough to call in sick, then yes.”

"Finn?"

"I'm gonna call after we hang up."

“You can’t call in sick for tomorrow's shift at 10pm tonight.” Fao grumbled. 

"Watch me."

“I hate you both.”

"Yeah, I love you too, Fao."

“If you’re going to insist on coming up and making me stay off of work, can you at least bring cake with you?”

"Of course we can."

“Fred can make it.”

"He will."

“Thanks. Finn, can I get off the floor now?”

"Just to the sofa?"

“I want to go to bed.”

"Alright. I'll call you later, mum."

“Love you, mum.” Fao said softly. “Sorry.”

"Don't be sorry. I love you both."

They said their goodbyes and hung up the phone, Fao reluctantly agreeing to at least sit on the sofa first before he went up to bed. His legs still felt shaky and his head definitely wasn’t right, but he’d be okay with some rest.

[tails89]

If you’re still doing the prompts thing, could you do #20 (“This is, without a doubt, the stupidest plan you’ve ever come up with...I’m in.”) with Buddie from 9-1-1 please? And if not, no worries. :)

Hey there, sorry this took so long. Sometimes my brain just doesn't want to cooperate...

Anyway, hope you enjoy (I changed the prompt a lil)

Also posted on AO3

“Here.” The beer appears in Buck’s peripheral vision, and he reaches for it, fingers slipping in the cool condensation that beads down the side of the bottle.

“Thanks man.” He takes a long sip and stares out into the backyard. “Oh, hey. How were parent teacher interviews yesterday?”

Eddie groans and drops heavily onto the porch swing, throwing his legs up on the railing beside Buck’s.

“They were fine,” he says, taking a long drink from his beer.

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound fine,” Buck says, twisting to face Eddie. “Is everything okay with Chris? Is there—"

“Christopher’s fine.” Eddie cuts Buck off before he can get too worked up. “He’s doing well in school, got lots of friends.”

“Oh.” Buck takes a sip of his own drink. “So, what’s the matter then?”

Eddie pulls his feet from the railing and plants them on the porch.

“He’s got this one teacher, and every time I see her, she’s got something to say about me being a single dad.” Eddie leans forward, his elbows braced on his knees. “Like I’m not good enough for him on my own.”

“You know that’s bullshit,” Buck says. “You’re a great dad.”

Eddie just waves him off.

“Anyway, she was going on about my job and how the long hours aren’t fair on Chris and how alone he is... anyway... Chris told her he’s not alone. He said he’s got me and Carla, Pepa and Abuela and... his Buck.”

“Of course, Eds, you know we’re all there for Chris.”

“I know but, I just—I don’t know why I said it.” Eddie leans back against the swing, staring out into the night.

“Said what?”

“I may have told her we were together...”

The half-mouthful of beer goes down the wrong hole and Buck chokes.

“What?” He wipes his sleeve against his mouth to catch the liquid that’s spilled down his chin.

“It just came out. She kept going on about the type of home environment I was providing, and I know I shouldn’t have let it get to me, but—Chris was so excited. I tried to tell him it wasn’t true—"

“Eddie, it’s fine.” Buck fidgets with the label on his bottle. He can’t quite bring himself to look at his best friend, afraid his face will give him away. It makes sense now why Chris was so happy to see him today, and perhaps why it had taken so long for Eddie to get him into bed. “You need to tell him though.”

“I know.” Eddie sighs and drains his beer. “I honestly didn’t think he’d be excited about the prospect of me dating again. We haven’t really talked about it.”

Buck isn’t excited about the idea of Eddie dating again, dating someone else. He keeps his mouth shut though and finishes his beer. The seeds of a very terrible, stupid plan start to take root in his brain.

“Hey, if uh,” the words stick in his throat. “If you need some time, to tell Chris, I don’t mind pretending for a day or two.” Buck’s heart is pounding so loud in his chest, he wonders if Eddie can hear it too. “Just until you do.”

Eddie laughs, tipping his head back against the seat.

“That is, without a doubt, the stupidest idea you’ve ever come up with...” he says, still chuckling.

“Ha, yeah,” Buck plasters a grin on his face. “Pretty stupid.”

“You know what, I’m in,” Eddie says, regaining his composure. “Just for a day or so. I’ve got the rest of the parent teacher interviews tomorrow night and then I’ll sit Chris down and explain it was a misunderstanding.”

“What about the rest of the team?” Buck asks. “We’ve got a ten-hour shift tomorrow. What happens if they find out?”

“They won’t.” Eddie’s tone is warm and reassuring but Buck shakes his head.

“It just takes one,” he points out. “If Maddie finds out, she’ll tell Chim. And if Chim finds out—” he lets his head tip back with a groan, “—he’ll tell everyone.”

“Is it really that big of a deal?” Eddie asks him, planting his feet back on the porch and sitting up.

Yes, because if people find out that they’re ‘dating’ they’ll have questions and Buck can’t handle that kind of scrutiny, not when he’s already harbouring major feelings for his best friend.

“No,” he says instead. “I guess not. It’s just one day. What’s the worst that could happen?”

~

Buck pulls up at the station bright and early the next morning. He parks beside Eddie’s truck, a smile spreading across his face when he realises he has Chris with him.

“Bucky!” Chris's whole face lights up and he throws his arms around Buck.

“Hey bud.” Buck ruffles the kid’s hair and walks with them towards the firehouse. “What are you doing here?”

“Pepa’s running late,” Eddie explains. “She got caught up in traffic, so she’s going to pick Chris up from here. She shouldn’t be long,” he says, addressing Bobby this time.

“It’s not a problem. You hungry Chris?” Bobby asks, matching Chris’ pace as they head for the stairs. “I’ll see what I can rustle up for breakfast and you can tell me all about school.”

Chris nods along enthusiastically, following on behind Bobby.

“Hey Christopher.” Chimney leans over the balcony rail. “You got any fun stories for us kid?”

“Oh yeah!” Chris hands his dad one of his crutches so he can free up a hand to grip the stair rail. “Did you guys know Dad and Buck are dating?”

Every eye in the building turns to them.

The thing about the station is that it’s never truly quiet. There’s always some noise, some movement, no matter the time of day. But in that moment Buck could have heard a pin drop.

Hen is the first to break the silence.

“Alright, pay up.” She waves her fingers in Chim's face. “Better luck next time boys,” she crows, holding out her hands.

“I definitely heard you say November,” Chimney argues.

“I said, before November.” Hen grins. “It’s before November. Now pay up.”

“You couldn’t have waited just a few more weeks?” Chimney asks them. “Really, is that too much to ask?”

“What is happening right now?” Buck stares at his friends in disbelief. “Have you all been taking bets on us?”

Hen and Chimney share a look. “Uh, yes.”

They say it together, Hen bursting into laughter at the indignation on Buck’s face. “Oh please, you think you’re so hard to read? You wear your heart on your sleeve, Buckaroo. I read you.”

She counts the money she’s won, stuffing the notes into her pocket. “You boys just paid for my anniversary dinner. I can’t wait to tell Karen.” She pauses. “I don’t suppose you two also offer babysitting services?”

Buck bites his lip to hold back the panic clawing at his chest. His gaze flicks to Eddie, laughing and reassuring Chris that he’s not in trouble for spilling the beans. He’s acting like it’s nothing—like their whole team hasn’t been plotting behind their backs.

Eddie had promised that no one else would know, but that had gone down the drain in seconds. And now what? Do they keep up the lie or do they come clean? The idea of telling everyone that it’s not real is worse than knowing they’d been betting on him and Eddie getting together. Or do they already know that too? Maybe that’s the next bet and they’re all just waiting.

“I, uh—” Buck takes a half step back. “I’ll just be back in a minute.”

He doesn’t run for the stairs. He keeps his gait even until he’s at the bottom of the staircase and then he makes his escape to the bathrooms.

Buck spends the rest of the day avoiding the team. Well, avoiding them as much as he is able while still doing his job. While they’re at the station, he finds chores to keep himself busy, ignoring the looks he gets from Hen and Chim and ignoring the friendly teasing that he can’t take a joke.

Avoiding Eddie is the worst. Buck can’t bring himself to do it. He constantly finds himself gravitating back towards his best friend, drawn like a moth to a flame.

Buck keeps waiting for Eddie to pull him aside and ask why he’s not keeping his end of the bargain. Eddie keeps looking over at him, face pinched with an expression Buck can’t quite name. He’s probably pissed Buck couldn’t even keep it up for twenty-four hours, and now they’re both going to look like fools in front of the rest of the team.

~

“Thought I’d find you hiding in here.”

Buck glances up from the bunk to catch Bobby leaning in the doorway.

“I’m not hiding.”

“Good, because lunch is ready.” He goes to leave, then stops, rapping his knuckles against the door frame. “For what it’s worth Buck, we’re happy for you. Both of you.”

“Thanks Bobby.” Buck stands slowly, inhaling deeply. He can do this. He can pretend to be dating Eddie in front of his co-workers while also somehow pretending that he’s not wildly in love with his best friend. He’s got this, no problem.

Buck lets the breath go in a rush.

He’s so fucked.

Everyone’s eyes look up as Buck reaches the kitchen. He’s the last to sit and there’s just the one spare seat left beside Eddie.

As he settles into the chair, Eddie bumps their knees together under the table and offers Buck a reassuring smile.

“So,” Chim says reaching for the salad bowl. “I need details. When did this start?” He gestures between the two of them with the salad tongs before loading up his plate.

“Yeah, how long have you been keeping this from us?” Albert pipes up.

Buck swallows against the lump in his throat. They should have come up with something, just in case, but now they have nothing and—

“It was a few weeks after I got home from the hospital.”

Buck glances across at Eddie, brows knit together in confusion.

“I’d broken up with Ana and Buck was over a lot, helping with Chris,” Eddie explains, accepting a plate from Hen. “There was this one day. Buck had just got back after dropping Chris at school and we realised Chris had forgotten to take this book he’d wanted for show and tell.”

Buck can feel his frown deepening. He remembers this.

“Anyway, Buck wanted to go all the way back to Chris’ school to give it to him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Eddie’s looking at him now, holding Buck’s gaze as he recounts the story. The whole team is looking at them, the heat of their scrutiny makes Buck squirm in his seat. “I said it didn’t matter, Chris could just take it another day, but Buck said—"

“It matters to Chris.” Buck feels his face flush. At the time, Eddie had laughed and said something about Buck being too good for them before Buck had run out of the house clutching the book.

“It just kind of hit me, you know?” Eddie finally looks away, reaching for the bread rolls in the middle of the table. “Just how lucky I am to have him and how much he cares about us and… I kissed him.”

There’s a collective gasp from around the table and all eyes turn back on Buck.

“And what did you do, Buckaroo?” Hen asks, leaning forward in her seat.

“I uh—” Buck glances at Eddie, eyes wide. “I kissed him back?”

“Yeah, and it was about damn time,” Chimney shouts around a mouthful of pasta. “You guys are so cute. It’s disgusting.”

~

The rest of the shift is better after that. Everyone seems satisfied by their story and Buck lets himself fall back into his regular comfortable rhythm, hanging with Eddie between call outs. There is still some awkwardness to it, Buck can’t stop his mind from wandering back to that morning, imagining what it would have been like if it had gone more like Eddie’s story. He’s surprised Eddie even remembered it, it had been just another day between the regular doctor and physical therapy appointments that consumed his every waking minute.

He waits until later that night to say anything. Chris is in bed and they’re back on the porch nursing a beer each.

“Can I, uh, ask you a question?” Buck tears at the label on his bottle. “That thing you said at lunch, about how we got together…” He trails off, not quite sure how to verbalise the whirlwind of feelings it had stirred in him.

“Yeah, well I had to say something convincing,” Eddie says, taking a sip of his beer.

“Oh, right. Yeah.” Buck had spent the whole afternoon thinking that maybe, just maybe his feelings for Eddie weren’t as one-sided as he’d initially thought. This though, this is like a bucket of ice water to the face. “I don’t think I can do this, Eds.”

Eddie’s head jerks up.

“I thought I could pretend, but I can’t.”

“Why did you suggest it then?” Eddie doesn’t sound angry. Buck almost wishes he did, it would be easier if the were both yelling at each other. Anything would be better than the soft disappointment in Eddie’s tone.

“I thought—” Buck takes a breath and tries again. “I wasn’t thinking when I suggested it. I think there was just a part of me that thought that getting to pretend with you was better than nothing. It’s not though, it just made it that much more obvious how much I want this— want us.” Putting down his beer, Buck goes to stand. “I’m sorry. I’m gonna go—”

“Wait. Buck.” Eddie catches his arm. “I should have kissed you.”

“What?”

“Chris’ show and tell. I didn’t kiss you that day, but I wanted to. You were just out the door so damn fast.”

“You wanted to kiss me?”

Eddie pulls him back down onto the swing with a fond eyeroll. “We’re you not listening to my story at lunch?” he asks, voice teasing. “I meant what I said about how it just hit me. You’re amazing Buck, and Chris and I are both so lucky to have someone like you, someone who cares with everything you have. I think I’ve loved you for a while, but that morning I knew.”

“I love you too.” Buck knows he’s grinning like an idiot, but right now he doesn’t care. “I know you didn’t kiss me back then but… you can kiss me now.”

And Eddie does.

It starts off soft and slow—a tentative brushing of their lips, but then as neither of them back off it grows more desperate. Buck curls his fingers in the hem of Eddie’s shirt, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

When he finally pulls away, they’re both red-faced and breathing hard.

“So, I guess this means we don’t need to break up,” Buck says with a laugh.

“No,” Eddie agrees. “I plan on keeping you around for a long time.”

[honey-dewey]

Moreno Family Movie Night

Pairing: Marcus Moreno/GN! Reader

Word Count: 1,658

Warnings: Mentions of the events of the movie Jaws, but this is 100% fluff

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell​

The prompt for this week’s Writer Wednesday was given, as always, by the lovely @autumnleaves1991-blog​, and the masterlists are created by @clydesducktape.

“What the hell do you mean you’ve never seen Jaws?” 

Marcus looked up from the breakfast table, eyes wide. You and him had been talking about childhood movies and he’d admitted to never seeing the classic movie. “I dunno,” he said. “I just never saw it.” 

You sat beside him, still slightly shocked. “You were, what, a teenager in the 80’s?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And Jaws came out in the mid-seventies.” 

“Yep.” 

You stared at Marcus. “And you haven’t seen it!” You said, probably a bit louder than you should have.

Marcus laughed, taking your hand. “Babe, is it really that much of a tragedy that I haven’t seen Jaws?” 

Nodding, you kissed Marcus’s knuckles absently, already looking up movie tickets on your phone. “Yes it is, Mr. Moreno. Yes it is.” 

Two days later, you had a plan. There was a beautiful vintage drive-in theater that was doing a marathon of summer movies, and Jaws just so happened to be on the list. You got tickets, getting a third knowing Missy would probably be joining you, even if she just slept in the backseat the whole time. 

Naturally, you told Missy all about your plan first. 

“Hey kiddo,” you said, poking your head into her room the day before movie night. She was doing homework, but looked up when you came in. “Wanna go somewhere special tomorrow night?” 

“Yeah!” Missy said eagerly, jumping up. “What are we doing?” 

You smiled. “I’m taking you and your father to see Jaws at a drive-in.” 

Missy hugged you, her homework entirely abandoned. “Really?” she asked. “Is it scary?” 

Laughing, you nudged her back towards her desk. “Well, when it was made, it probably was. But now? Not really. The special effects are, pardon my language, complete shit.” 

“That sucks,” Missy groaned, flopping back into her chair. “But it’ll still be fun!” 

You nodded. “Yep. Gonna be fun.” 

The night of the movie, you insisted on going out to eat, as a treat because Marcus had been working his ass off at work and deserved to relax for one goddamn night. He accepted, grinning as you took him and Missy to your favorite tiny little burger place, just outside the drive-in. The burger place was technically a food truck, but the burgers were so damn good you didn’t care one bit. 

Sitting at a picnic table with your food, you sat practically in Marcus’s lap, handing him his burger and passing Missy’s across the table. The night was warm but not overly stifling, with the setting sun in the background and the gentle sounds of the evening rolling over. It was peaceful, even with Missy shooting you amused glaces in between fries. You simply smiled at her, giving her the barest of head shakes when Marcus wasn’t looking. 

“So,” you said, stealing one of Marcus’s fries and smiling at him when he poked your side. “Missy, how was school?” You were trying to keep the conversation mundane, so as not to give away your plan. 

“Good!” Missy said happily. “I started a new project in science today. It’s all about animal classifications.”

Marcus nodded along as she spoke. “Really?” 

“Mhm!” Missy hummed. “I got this list of animals, and I have to make a poster classifying all of them.” 

“Sounds fun,” you said, taking another fry, despite Marcus’s playful nudging for you to not. “And how’s your Heroics stuff going? I know you said last week there was a fight.” 

While Missy told you about how her after-school activity was going, you checked the time, smiling. Half an hour. 

When you were done with dinner and conversation, you ushered everyone back into the car, not wanting to be late for the movie. The sun had fully gone down, and you had a tiny bit of trouble finding the movie spot, but when you did, Marcus knew what was going on instantly. 

“I swear to god, if we’re seeing Jaws,” he said as you showed the attendant your tickets. “Missy is in the car!” 

“It’s a PG movie,” you reassured, smiling at the attendant when they told you where to park. “Well, PG by 1975 standards, but that means it’s PG-13 now.” 

Marcus sighed. “Are you sure?” 

You nodded, laying a hand on Marcus’s thigh after you’d parked. “Hon, I watched this movie about a dozen times when I was like, seven. She’ll live. Plus, it’s only PG-13 because people get eaten, duh, and you can see the silhouette of a woman’s bare boob for like, half a second. It will be okay.” 

Reassured, Marcus began to fiddle with the radio, as per the instructions on the screen in front of you. The radio fizzed and hissed, sound going fuzzy until he found the right frequency, playing smooth waiting music. 

“Ten minutes,” you said happily, looking into the backseat. “Now is the time for bathroom breaks.” 

Missy didn’t get up, only shifted to the middle seat and scooched forward a bit so she could see. Marcus got out, but only so he could grab a few blankets from the trunk that he kept in there for emergencies such as forgotten ones at sleepovers or a car breakdown in the winter. As he distributed the fuzzy blankets, you managed to find a once lost bag of gummy bears, now unearthed from your center console. You passed Missy a generous handful, leaving the bag open in the console for you and Marcus. Just as Missy asked when the movie was going to start, the lights dimmed, and the message faded from the screen. A cool voice said through the radio, “Please enjoy your movie,” and then, it had begun. 

You smiled, taking Marcus’s hand. The movie brought back millions of memories for you, mostly memories of crowded couches and late nights with extended families. Even now, you could still remember crawling into your father’s lap and falling asleep there near the end of the movie, although it may have been the middle, but you couldn’t recall that detail now. All you knew now was that you had to make this very first viewing memorable for Marcus and Missy, just as it had been memorable for you. 

“Okay, the first attack is kinda super scary, so be warned,” you said softly. “Missy, honey, if you get scared, just tell one of us, okay?” 

Missy promptly shushed you, focused entirely on the movie. You smiled, turning back to the screen. 

Not even five minutes later, Missy and Marcus were gasping, meanwhile, you were unfazed by the frankly terrifying death that had occured. 

“I’m never swimming in the ocean again,” Missy decided, scooting back and trying to conceal a yawn. 

“I second that,” Marcus added, gripping your hand tighter. “You’re sure this isn’t scary?” 

You nodded, smoothing your thumb over the back of Marcus’s hand. “I promise,” you said. “That’s the scary bit.” 

Around the halfway bit of the movie, you heard Missy shift in the backseat. Turning, you smiled as she yawned widely and lay down, her eyes barely open at this point. “Missy,” you said softly. “If you’re tired, close your eyes. I have this movie on DVD, and we can always watch it later, okay?” 

Missy gave you an exhausted thumbs up before turning over and burying herself in her blanket. You leaned closer to Marcus, placing your head on his shoulder. He moved so he was closer to you as well, cuddling up as best he could with the center console in the way. 

Despite the late hour, you and Marcus stayed awake for the rest of the movie. It was hard, but eventually, the movie was drawing to a close, and you were finally ready to fall asleep, even if you were the one behind the wheel. 

“Babe?” Marcus mumbled as the credits began to roll, nudging you to see if you were still awake. “Hey, you up?” 

You nodded, stretching and pulling the blanket off of you. “Yeah. Did you like the movie?” 

Marcus yawned, looking into the backseat, where Missy was still stretched across all three seats, using a spare blanket as a pillow. “Should I wake her up?” 

“She has to buckle in,” you pointed out, starting the car and fiddling with the radio so it was playing actual musica again. “So yeah.” 

After Missy woke up, accompanied by a lot of groaning and complaining, you pulled out of the parking lot and began to drive home. Missy fell asleep again, sitting upright and leaning against the window, and Marcus very quickly began to do the same, his hand loosely holding yours as he drifted off. You smiled, the gentle sounds of your two favorite people sleeping mixed with the soft music coming from the radio lulling you into a place of peace. 

Home came too quickly. Despite how exhausted he was, Marcus carried Missy into the house, laying her in her bed and pulling her blankets around her. You stood in the doorway, waiting for Marcus. He smiled, giving you a gentle kiss before following you to your bedroom. 

“Tired?” you asked, watching Marcus stumble around the room looking for the pyjamas you were holding. He nodded, grinning at you. 

“Yeah,” he said softly, coming towards you and taking the pyjamas. “Good movie though.” 

“Really?”

Marcus nodded, wrapping you in a warm bear hug. “Mhm,” he hummed, the vibration of it in his chest rumbling through you. “The special effects were garbage, but it was really good.” 

You smiled, wrapped in Marcus’s hug, warm and safe, there was no place you’d rather be, especially after a night like the one you just had. Nothing could make it better than it already was like a Marcus Moreno bear hug. “Just wait until I make you watch the rest of them. In the third one, the shark’s brother or some shit is out for revenge.” 

Marcus groaned into your shoulder. “No. No, absolutely not. We are not watching that.” 

“Aww, but-” 

“Nope!”

[mintseesaw]

love like that

Prompt: You fainted during your shift in the hospital. And Dr. Min, whom your colleagues have no clue of your relationship with, has to be the one to check up on you. Pairing: doctor!yoongi x doctor!reader Genre: fluff, fluff, lots of fluff, established relationship au, drabble Word count: 1.5k rating: pg-13 Warnings: reader’s disregard of own’s health, imposing of punishment, literal spoon feeding if it makes you cringe lol a/n: something light before I update aurora ;) wrote this in honor of my fave yoongi look so far which is pretty obv on the banner haha

As you come back to consciousness, your eyes flutter open, only to shut them close at the blinding hospital light pointed directly at your line of vision. The pristine white walls illuminating the ambience of the sickly familiar room only gave you a dizzy spell.

Still dazed with the remnants of being unconscious, you couldn’t seem to find the last bit of your memory and why you’re lying in a bed inside a familiar facility instead of being the one to check the patients up, yourself. With your eyes closed, you heard a familiar voice spoke, breaking the oddly cold silence, “You okay?” “Why am I here?” You manage to ask with your desert dry throat and a pounding head.

“You fainted.” Yoongi responds briefly. Right, you did! When and where did it happen, again?

”That doesn’t mean I have to be here. How long was I out?” “About 6-7 hours. Your blood pressure dropped, so is your blood sugar. You’re sleep deprived and you haven’t been eating?” He answers in his usual thickly low, professional tone. If you only cared to listen closely, you’d notice he sounded like a father scolding his child for skipping proper meals over sweet treats, than a caring boyfriend that he actually is. You also fail to see the way his forehead creases, him sporting a cute pout while he scolds you with his deadly, monotonous tone.

The nurse, who is on the other side of the bed currently administering a vial medication through your IV, didn’t miss the coldness seeping through Dr. Min’s voice as her thumb slowly pushes through the end of the syringe.

However, the proximity between the two doctors picques her curiosity. The terror senior cardiologist and the junior resident are physically too close to only be labeled as mere colleagues. On your second attempt, you squinted your hypersensitive eyes. Blurry sight steadily adjusts to the familiar figure. As your vision becomes clearer, you finally get to see your boyfriend, Dr. Min, clad in his usual knee length white coat. The undone buttons of the white fabric lets you have a glimpse of his inner dress shirt and the black pair of slacks his lean legs adorned.

Your eyes remain glued on him, not minding the faint sting of the thick liquid as it seeps through your veins from the back of your right hand. The intimidating, gorgeous doctor that you luckily call your boyfriend returns the same longing gaze.

Prior to your fainting spell, the last you’ve properly seen and talked him was two days ago, when he had arrived at the hospital which was only an hour left of your shift.

“I didn’t notice, I guess I was just... occupied?”

Unexpectedly, he flicks your forehead which stung more than the medicine flowing through your veins. “Idiot, you almost got yourself killed.”

“Yoongi!” You whimper in protest.

Yoongi crouches his upper body, dipping his head low to soothe the now reddish area on your forehead with the supple pair of his lips.

He would not want to go through that frightening moment, again. He had seen the worst of the worsts, but having to experience the same thing that his previous patients’ families had endured turns out to be his own nightmare.

Yoongi received a call from a junior resident several hours ago. Ironically, your colleague chose to call Dr. Min out of all the cardiologists in the hospital. The junior resident assumed your case isn’t just a mere fainting spell of fatigue.

He rushed his way to the hospital, furiously driving his car like a maniac. How could he not? When your colleague suggested to place you in ICU if your blood pressure continued to drop. With you remaining unconscious, medications and supplemental fluids had to be administered through your IV to help normalize your vital signs. Fortunately, your body has responded with the medications. “You should eat before I leave.” He murmurs, peppering your skin with his warm breaths.

You didn’t respond, having other intentions in your mind. Lightly tilting your head up, you hover his parted lips. From the looks of it, you two seemingly forgot you have other company inside the room. At the unexpected sweet display of affection, the nurse quietly gaped as you both became too outworldly with each other.

“Only if you’ll eat with me.” You propose. Then Yoongi draws back, pulling the retractable board up over the bed as a makeshift table. Swiftly, he places the tray there which carries the hospital prepped meal that includes porridge, soup and side dishes.

The flustered nurse cleared her throat, silently excusing herself to give privacy to the newly discovered love birds.

Yoongi darts his eyes to the female staff who refused to meet his gaze. Adjusting his heavily graded specs on the bridge of his nose, he takes the chair beside the hospital bed.

Having no sense of will to consume food, you unwillingly pull yourself up. Yoongi then hands you a water bottle, which you took in his hand and eagerly chugged down half of its content in no time. But then the unappetizing food in front of you makes you scrunch up your nose in disgust.

Peaking on your left to look for alternative food that is a little appetizing than the ones Yoongi served, you found nothing else. Other than his daily dose of caffeine. You had enough of it for the day, but you‘d rather have another one or anything else other than that meal.

“Can I have some of that?” “What,” Yoongi pauses, only to follow where your gaze has been directed. When he realizes what you were referring to, he sternly objects, “No, not until you’ve completely recovered.”

Pouting in defeat, you silently huffed, crossing your arms against your chest. You really have no full intent of eating the food, but when you meet Yoongi‘s warning peer, you’re forced to mimic his movement as he obtains a spoon.

Holding the silverware between your fingers, you silently watch him scoop a generous portion of porridge in his spoon, thinking he would eat the porridge himself. But he held it forward, near your lips. The slight arching of his eyebrow made you slowly part your own lips, as if he has this mythical power over your body.

I thought I asked him to eat with me? And not make me eat?! You silently complain.

Yoongi didn’t stop pestering you with the porridge, almost force feeding you with his deadly stare. Something that you didn’t want to mess with ever again. However, on the sixth spoon, you finally had the courage to push his arm away, not liking the way it is making your stomach oddly churns.

“You barely touched your soup.” He proceeds to scold you, coaxing you with another spoonful of porridge.

Whining, you shook your head. “No more,” Then you lean your back against the headboard to increase the proximity in between. “Can you release me now? I have to attend to my patients. What about the meeting with my team? Oh God, Professor Kim—”

“You are my patient, baby. You need to be closely monitored until tomorrow. Don’t worry about your shift for now, your superiors will understand.” “But do I have to be here alone for the next 24 hours?” You gloomily asked, sulking. Realizing there’s no way for him to stay with you here considering he has one of most hectic schedules among the senior residents. He chuckles softly, reaching out to smoothen your protruded lips with his thumb. Gone is the terror doctor from the cardiology department.

“I’m afraid so. I would stay here with you if I could. However, I have an operation in about fours hours’ time. But you’ll go home with me tomorrow so I can watch you over.” “Really?” Your eyes instantly light up, loving the idea of you and him sharing an apartment. You considered the thought before, however, you think it’s too soon for you two to live together. And you understand that Yoongi strangely craves the isolation, so you have not brought up the matter. Unless he asks you to. Technically, you’ll only stay with him for a couple of days.

Still, this is a progress. “Hmm. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He whispers, taking in the elation dancing in your eyes. He cups your cheek, thumb rubbing indefinite paths to the expanse of the soft muscle. “Which reminds me, you won’t be spared with forgiveness this time.”

“W-What?” “Ten,” emphasizing his next word with a slap on the side of your scrub suit clad hip before continuing, “for each round. You like being punished, do you not my love?” You yelp, eyes rounding from shock. “I will make sure you’ll be sore enough, you won’t be able to come to work for a week, baby.” He promises, his orbs growing dark as his mind starts to reel with lewd fantasies of you. His warning alone had you instantly weak in your knees, the familiar heat rapidly spreading in your stomach, and all you could do is fist his white coat, groaning achingly in need.

Yoongi smirks, knowing full well what the sound means, then invades your mouth in a searing kiss.

mintseesaw © 2020

[frostedfaves]

Repercussions (8)

Masterlist

Pairings: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Wanda lets you have a little freedom and you take advantage of it.

Warnings: dark themes

A/N: I was going to do one long part to show the aftermath/consequences of what the reader did, but decided to leave you on a cliffhanger instead 😏 you have my permission to yell at me for it though. I’ll be posting part 9 tomorrow!

Previous part

-

“Hey, printsessa.”

You looked up from your bowl of cereal, offering Wanda a smile that widened as she approached, placing a gentle palm on your cheek when she leaned down to kiss you.

“Good morning, Wan. I’m almost done,” you added as you gestured to your bowl, and she shook her head.

“That’s not what I came over here for, although we do need to leave soon.”

“Oh, then what’s going on?” you questioned before shoveling your last spoonful in.

“I wanted to give you this.” She grabbed your hand and turned it over, dropping an iPad into your palm. “My meeting at the tower will be pretty long and then we have to wait another hour or so for Tash to get back from her mission, so I don’t want you to get bored. I downloaded all the games you like and a reading app.”

“Thank you, Wan.”

She responded to your gratitude with a kind smile and a kiss on your forehead, grabbing your dishes as she pulled away and taking them over to wash. You unlocked the iPad, using the time Wanda was distracted to quickly download Instagram and log in. A few DMs popped up once the app loaded, and the one that caught your eye first came from your ex-girlfriend, Brittani Gray.

Hey! I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked, but I’ll be in your city this week for work! I hate to be so last minute, but I’m only free to meet today.

The message was sent an hour ago, and you found yourself quickly responding to her before you had time to think about your actions. You named the place you wanted to meet in and closed the app, switching over to a game just as Wanda walked away from the sink.

“Ready to go?” she asked and you nodded sweetly, your expression dripping in false innocence.

-

“There she is!”

You looked up from subconsciously counting the tiles in front of your feet, meeting the eyes of the billionaire that owned the tower you just entered.

“You must be the girlfriend. Tony Stark, nice to meet you, kid.”

You told him your name and extended a hand, fighting the urge to roll your eyes or gag when he grabbed and planted a kiss on the back of it. He then moved on to address Wanda, and you wandered over to a nearby armchair, removing the iPad from the little crossbody satchel you were given to carry it in. You plugged in earbuds and turned on some music while you kept yourself busy with another game until a hand touched your knee.

“Hey.” Wanda’s eyes seemed to sparkle when you met her gaze, and you couldn’t help the look of adoration you gave her. “I’ll be upstairs, but if you need something you ask one of the secretaries to call me. Love you, baby.”

A kiss was dropped on the top of your head before she quickly walked away with Tony, and you knew she was probably kicking herself for the declaration. Despite how much the two enjoyed controlling most aspects of your life, the one thing they never pushed for was a confession of love. Natasha and Wanda knew they loved you, but they wanted you to have the freedom to realize it on your own, so they made it a point not to use the phrase until then.

Another hour or so passed while you busied yourself with sudoku, crosswords, or the occasional coin collecting game until you got bored with it. You then moved onto people watching until a notification came in from Instagram.

I’ll be there in about 20 minutes!

You quickly logged out and deleted the Instagram app, tucking the device away safely in the bag as you got up and exited the tower. Walking to the main street, you quickly hailed a cab, double-checking that the cash you swiped a few days ago while Wanda took a shower was still in your pocket. You paid the driver once you were dropped off and went inside the building.

“Brittani?” you called, your lips forming a grin when she faced you. “Hey! How are you?”

“Hey, I’m great!” she replied as she brought you into her embrace, examining you head to toe when she pulled away. “What about you? I have to imagine pretty well...you’re definitely glowing.”

“Really?” you questioned almost sarcastically with an incredulous expression.

“Yeah, you seem happy.”

“Happy to see you as usual,” you told her casually as you looked around the café. “I’m gonna grab a table while you order.”

“You don’t want anything? My treat.”

“Well, I already ate but I’ll take a--”

“Smoothie?” she finished for you with a teasing grin. “I already know which one.”

You laughed and shook your head as you stepped away to find a table far from the street side of the building, not wanting to be seen by anyone that knew your girlfriends. Brittani sat in front of you a few minutes later with her coffee and muffin, handing your smoothie and a straw over and beaming when your hands brushed.

“You know, as happy as I am that you agreed to meet, I’m very surprised to be sitting here with you now.” She glanced at your confused frown and continued. “Even though things didn’t end terribly between us, I’d always assumed you moved so far to get a fresh start and let go of everything in the past or something.”

“I guess in a way I did but...I don’t know.” A heavy sigh left your lips as you turned your attention to your smoothie. “I was pretty depressed when we broke up because I hadn’t been single in so long. I didn’t know how to handle it and every reminder of you made me angry. I’d planned to go even farther away than this.”

“What stopped you?” she questioned curiously, and her gentle tone helped you feel safe enough to meet her gaze again.

“I just thought that if I was going to move anywhere, it should be for me and not because I’m running from something or someone. So I thought a lot about what I really wanted, did some research and somehow ended up in New York.”

“Well I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” she confessed as she leaned forward to grab one of your hands. “Breakup or not, we were friends first, and it feels so weird to not have been there for a rough moment in your life.”

“I know, but everything went how it should’ve,” you assured her, laying your other hand on top of hers. “Had you been there, I would’ve tried to be with you again and I never would’ve learned the things about myself that I did.”

“I’m glad it all worked out then. So have you dated since then or…?” Your eyes widened a bit in panic and she quickly pulled her hands away. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

“No no, it’s okay.” Your own hands shifted back to your smoothie, and you took a sip with a smile. “So, I see you got that promotion you wanted.”

The conversation moved on from there to details about her job, and she explained all the traveling and salary increases that came with it. You found it easy to listen to her, even though you didn’t understand half of what she was saying, simply enjoying the normalcy of it all. Although you were able to find little moments of enjoyment in your insane relationship with Natasha and Wanda, it’d been a while since you just sat in a public place with someone who wasn’t looking over their shoulders for an enemy most of the time. It was nice.

“So then we somehow ended up with 60 pieces of dessert even though we only ordered 20!”

“Britt, I’m not seeing the problem here.”

She cackled loudly in a contagious way that made it so easy to join in. The two of you were so caught up in laughing that neither of you noticed someone approaching your table until you felt a stern hand gripping the back of your neck and Natasha’s cold voice in your ear.

“You have ten seconds to get in the car before I drag you there myself.”

-

Tags: @littlegasps @imnotasuperhero @nat-km-mh @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @fayhar @cherrieloco @mjaudrey @seventeen0 @bebe404 @becka107 @its-a-long-way-to-ba-sing-se @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @messuhp @sxphiaswitch @muted-stoneheart @trikruismybitch @wannabe-fic-reader @natashadeservedmore @darkangelxoxo @witchxaf @sakurat123

[plush-rabbit]

Don’t Tell Shigaraki

TW: Menstrual Cycle, Blood, Cramps

A/N: Cramps suck and this is a lot of shameful cuddling and whatnot because I want a hug when I’m dying.

The dreaded time of the month is here and you’re currently dying. The cramps are painful and almost make you feel sick, but the thought of having to get up and find a toilet is tiresome so you beg your body to just relax for a second. The heating pad that you bought is cranked to the max and it still isn’t doing anything to help numb the pain. You really have no idea what else to do and the small stash of chocolate you have hidden is tempting but again, the thought of movement is much too painful. So you lay in bed and press the heating pad into your stomach hoping that something good will come out of it while you grind your teeth.

You could call Tomura but he isn’t exactly the most comforting person around and you doubt he knows how to even make you feel a bit better. You don’t even know how to feel better. You tried going to sleep but the pain is too unbearable to even focus on anything else. You could try to do yoga but then that would involve moving and right you’ve found a sweet spot where the pain is at least an eight out of ten.

No. You’re fine. You’ve had cramps before and you’ve survived them, all you have to do is go find pain killers and hope you don’t faint. You let out a breath, “Okay, on the count of three I get up,” you whisper to yourself, fisting the blanket in your hands. “One,” you flex your feet, “two,” you take a deep breath, “and three.” You’re still lying in bed. “Okay, so that was a failed attempt. One more time.” You count down and on three you rise from the bed and clutch your lower belly. “Okay, good job,” you say in a pained whisper.

The trek to the kitchen is a long and painful road where you have to lean against the wall and stop for a few seconds so you can just breathe. You don’t pass anyone on the way there, you hand cradling your lower belly makes you feel all too vulnerable. But that’s the thing, you are vulnerable right now. You’re in too much pain and you want to be sick and if you stand for any longer, you’re sure to see black spots in the corner of your vision. You don’t know why it’s so painful right now. Why everything feels too sore, like you’ve just ran a marathon and now your joints and muscles are begging for rest even if that’s just all you’ve been doing the past hours.

You slump into a kitchen chair, letting out a whine at the harsh surface of the chair. The pills are here somewhere, in a cabinet perhaps, maybe it was the bathroom. You groan and bury your face into your arms. You can’t get up again. Everything hurts too much and you can’t force yourself to get up again. You don’t know how long you’re slumped over for. Could be a minute, could be ten, and you didn’t bring your phone to help distract you. This was supposed to be a simple mission and here you are close to tears because your cramps haven’t dulled even a fraction.

“You look pathetic,” a voice drones out.

You look up, your eyes the only thing in view as you’re met with the icy gaze of Dabi who holds an unlit cigarette in his mouth. You roll your eyes and fit back another wave of nausea. “Don’t smoke in here. Go outside or something.”

He holds you gaze and hooks his foot around the leg of a chair, pulling it out and resting on the edge of it, the cigarette still hanging limply from his lips. “What’s wrong?”

You raise a brow. “You care?”

He shrugs, his expression bored but eyes never leaving yours. “If your little boyfriend finds out your sad, he’ll blow a fuse. And I’m not really in the mood to hear him scream,” he sighs, “so what’s up?”

You glower at him in suspicion and ultimately shrug and lean on the back of the chair, your hand coming back to cradle your lower belly. “Cramps.”

He lets out a low whistle. “Sucks to be you.” When you shoot him a look he chuckles and raises his hands in defense. Long, thin fingers wrap around the cigarette and he places it on the table. “You take any pain killers?”

You shake your head in response. Your tongue coming out to wet your lips, you speak, “Sat down before I could look.” Dabi throws his had forward and rises slowly, pulling on the handle of the cabinet harshly and shuffling around the items inside. “Don’t make a mess,” you tell him halfheartedly.

“Shut up,” he mutters. “Let me find the damn pills and then you can whine.”

Dabi isn’t all that bad. He’s rough around the edges but he really does care even if he acts like he doesn’t. He’ll help out in a pinch and god he’s insufferable but he’s still a friend. “Hey Dabi,” you drum your fingers on the table and he hums in response. “You’re hot... Right?”

He straightens his neck and turns to you, a hint of mischief in his wide eyes a roguish smirk takes over. “Gotta be more specific than that doll.”

“Like body temperature.” You shift your gaze from him and turn to the table.

“Yeah, why?” The cabinet closes.

“Okay, so this is super embarrassing and if you utter a word about this to anyone, I’ll like totally end you.” You swallow your pride and look at him with a raised chin. “Do you mind if I borrow your hand? Please? When I feel better, I’ll make you you’re favorite dish. I promise!”

“Pain’s that bad?” You nod and he sighs. “Ugh. Fine. But we’re going to my room. And you’re making it tomorrow. Got it?” He holds out his hand and you grasp it, giving him a firm handshake. You rise from the chair, fingers knotting into your shirt.

“You know if he finds you in his room, he’s going to blow a fuse right,” Himiko giggles, stepping into the kitchen with a sway.

You startle. “How long have you been here?” You crane your neck to see if anyone else is behind her but you’re pulled back by Dabi.

“That’s why you’re not telling,” Dabi says, shoulders rising as an eye twitches. “Listen, you don’t tell him and I don’t know,” he waves his hand in the air, “little Cramps over here will get you something.”

“Please don’t make “Cramps” my nickname,” you mumble.

“Can I come? I can massage your hands! There’s a pressure point to take away the pain somewhere there! Come on please?” Himiko bounces in her place, with hands pressed together in a pleading motion. “Please!”

Dabi looks at you.

“You know she’ll tell him if she doesn’t come along. And it’ll be your ass on the line, not mine,” you point out.

He throws his head back. “Ugh, fine. But only you two. And don’t touch my things,” he warns, pointing a finger at the both of you.

“Whose room are we going to?” Jin asks, peeking his head into the kitchen.

“No! No one else,” Dabi snarls, hands extended in front of him.

“We’ll tell Shigaraki,” Jin says in a deeper voice.

-

You’re in Dabi’s bed that smells heavily of cologne with a light scent of burnt wood. The fan above blows cool air and Jin is busying himself by having his legs thrown on top of yours as he reads a book, clicking his tongue in certain parts before flipping over the page. Himiko is busy massaging the webbed part of your hand while she compliments your hands, telling you how pretty you’d look with red nail polish. And Dabi is grumbling while he lays in an awkward position with a hand over the small of your belly.

“Listen, what happens here, stays here,” Dabi says, with a hand holding up his phone while he watches a show about office workers.

You peer over and place your hand above his. “You know, I didn’t take you for a fan of Agg—”

“Shut it or I kick you out.”

“Oh! After this I think we should watch a movie!” Himiko says cheerfully, giving you a toothy grin.

“I wouldn’t mind. There’s been a couple things I’ve been meaning to watch. Jin, Dabi, you guys in?”

“I’d love to!” Jin salutes. “We could order in and eat all sorts of things!” A hand is placed on your knee and fingers absentmindedly begin to tap on you.

“Dabi?” You ask.

“I hate all of you,” he murmurs, clicking out of the application and moving onto another one. “Look, just don’t mention any of this shit to the others.”

The three of you look at each other and give a matching grin. You pinch your fingers together and put them to corner of your lip, and with a quick movement, you swipe your fingers across your lips and mimic tossing something over your shoulder. The other two do the same and Dabi merely rolls his eyes accompanied by a scoff.

“We can watch something on the weekend or whatever,” Dabi rumbles, bringing a pillow to bury his chin into.

“You know,” you start off, throwing an arm over your eyes, “this is actually helping a lot. The pain isn’t as bad as it was before… Thanks. A lot.” You roll your lips and the hand that is held by Himiko jerks its fingers. You feel your hand be given a reassuring squeeze in return.

There’s a mixture of words all intertwined and muddles together as they each begin to respond to you. The door is opens slowly with a creak and all of you freeze, Dabi immediately pulling his hand back and shoving it under the pillow. You raise your arm and look at the door.

“Hey, have you seen—”

All of you freeze and crimson eyes scan over the room and land on you where your hand is placed over your belly.

“Tomura, hey,” you smile at him and rise onto your elbows.

His eyes are wide for a second before they narrow. “Whatever.” The door is slammed shut and you wince. A few seconds later, you hear another door slam shut.

“He’s not happy,” you groan.

“No shit,” Jin says quietly, hand squeezing your knee.

You sigh and pull your hand away from Himiko and bend your legs, causing Jin to stand up from the bed. “I’m gonna go check on him.”

“You’re all good now?” Dabi asks, turning his head to lay flat on the pillow.

The bed creaks from under your weight as you get off. You raise your arms above your head and flex your fingers towards the ceiling of the room. You turn to look at Dabi who stares at your through half lidded eyes. “Yeah, I’m all good. Thanks again Dabi.” You ruffle his hair and smile when he pushes your hand off of him. “Thanks again Himiko and Jin. If you guys need something later, just call.” You give them finger guns and walk out of the room closing it with a soft click.

The walk back to the room is slow and heavy, you can already feeling the brooding energy that emits from the shared room. You give a gentle knock on the door, announcing that you’re coming in and you thank the heavens that the door isn’t looked.

Tomura is on the bed, with his back facing you and blankets shoved off onto the floor of the room. You click your tongue. “Tomura, I told you not to let the blankets spill onto the floor,” you bend them and toss them back on the bed, “They’ll get dirty.” The bed squeaks as you sit down and he jerks when you touch his back. “Tomura, look at me please,” you coo, letting your hand run over his back.

“Why don’t you just go back to them,” he says in a nasally voice, the volume from his phone is raised to its peak.

“Because I want to be here with you.” You prop pillows against the bed frame and lean against them, your hand moving to grasp his shoulder. “There’s no need to get jealous.”

“Not jealous,” he growls.

“Then can I have a kiss,” you offer, shifting closer to him.

“Screw you.”

“Do you want to know why I was with them?” You pause for an answer and sigh when you don’t receive one. “Well I’m going to tell you anyway. I was with them because well… I’m on my period and the cramps were super bad. And coming to you just felt embarrassing—”

“And going to them wasn’t?” He pouts, and turns to face you, still on his side.

You shrug and a noise of confusion. “It’s different. I was in a lot of pain and I don’t know. Look I’m super sorry.” You bring your knees closer to your chest before you decide to let them fall once again. “Would you have known what to do?”

He’s silent and his face scrunches. “I could have figured it out,” he mutters.

You let out a breath. “I know you could have.” You push his hair out of his face. “I’m still in a bit of pain and I think cuddles might help.” You speak gently, twirling a strand of his hair around your finger. “Do you want to do the honors?” You ask with arms opened wide.

“Only because you owe me,” he says with a hoarse voice, arms immediately wrapping around you  as he nuzzles his nose into your side, hands immediately going underneath your shirt and digging his fingers into your soft skin, the metal brace cold against your skin making you flinch to which he apologizes with a kiss.

“Seems like I owe everyone these days,” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair and bringing one of his hands to cup your lower belly, mewling at the heat he gives off.

His arms are tight around you, his hand that cusps your belly, moves his fingers softly, petting the soft part of you, while his other hands moves and shifts until he’s deemed comfortable. He coos into your side, words muffled and quiet, never reaching your ears but hum in response, feeling your eyes begin to droop. You lower yourself on the bed, ignoring his whine of protest as he looks at you through half closed eyes. When you open your arm back up, he places himself back to his spot, hand returning to your plush stomach, and drags his lips lazily against you in a kiss.

[whumpmatsus]

Hmm could do one where one one of boys has rough day, that leads to emotional overeating, and bellyache that they try to hide until they can't. Please and thank.

aaaaaa, lovely!

I went with Totty because it feels like I haven't written him in a while

and there's a tiny bit of Allmatsu, buuuut really it's mostly Cybermatsu :D

hope you like it, I had a lot of fun with it!

-

Most of the time, Totty thinks he does a pretty good job being composed at work.

However, that’s easy to do when the majority of the days are okay. Sometimes there’s a bad moment or two that he can recover from by the time he gets home; never before has it been an entire day full of nothing but bad moments.

Until today, of course.

It’s just been one awful thing after another. One of his brothers accidentally turned off the alarm clock, probably by hitting it or steadying themself against it while going to the bathroom… so he was late to work. When he finally got behind the register, there was already a decent-sized line and the early morning customers were irritable before their coffee. Nearly every single customer during his shift snapped at him in some way even when he was trying to be helpful.

His coworkers were less than pleasant, especially after a couple hours when one of them had to take over for him because he had to go pee. To make things worse, toward the end of the day he managed to smash his fingers in the cash drawer while closing it.

The highlight of the day was when he was on his way out and a customer wanted help. Company policy being that he wasn’t allowed to work in any way while he was off the clock, he told them he was actually heading home and pointed to one of his coworkers. Which apparently wasn’t good enough, as he was accused of being lazy and not wanting to do his job and told that the customer was going to talk to his manager and have him fired.

Is it any wonder he’s spent almost the whole train ride home in tears? It hasn’t been a great day to be Matsuno Todomatsu.

He feels a little better by the time he gets home, but he’s exhausted and overwhelmed by everything that went wrong. Part of him wants to find one of his brothers and bitch his heart out. The other part just wants to shove food into his mouth and pretend none of it ever happened.

Sutabaa allows employees to eat some of the cheap things for free during their break, which Totty doesn’t often take advantage of. He’d rather have a snack at home so he doesn’t have to scarf it down in ten minutes. Today, though, he managed to put away a chocolate croissant plus a couple of cookies, so he shouldn’t be hungry at all when he gets home.

And he’s not… really hungry. He just wants to eat something for the sake of it, so that maybe eating something tasty will make it seem like nothing went wrong today. The food during his break made things seem better for a minute while he ate it. All he wants is more of that feeling, to make believe it wasn’t such a bad day.

He doesn’t know where any of his brothers are, and he doesn’t particularly care. He doesn’t think he’d give half a shit if one of them walked in on him raiding the fridge and pantry as if he’s preparing to hibernate through the winter. They all stuff their faces at any available opportunity, so why would it be surprising to find him doing it, especially after a long day at work which none of the rest of them do?

It doesn’t even really matter to him what he’s eating, either. Just things that don’t require too much time between being in his hand and sliding down his throat.

There’s about a portion’s worth of takoyaki left in the fridge from dinner last night, so he finishes that off. Some daifukumochi that was in the cabinet, along with a packet of konpeitō. A bag of arare disappears pretty quickly, too. He doesn’t really know if the imagawayaki that was sitting on the counter was left for him or if it was a single treat that nobody had fought over yet ― regardless, he eats it anyway.

Each bite is a violent attempt to deny the shittiness of this whole day. It all tastes delicious, so he can lose himself inside it for a moment. What never really occurs to him is that every moment doesn’t last too long, and even though his stomach isn’t built for this kind of eating, he’s reaching for another snack as soon as the last one has dissolved on his tongue.

He throws packaging away as he goes, just to keep things neat. He’s just biting into his latest snack when someone else walks into the kitchen, and looking up, it turns out to be Choromatsu.

“O-oh, hey, Totty, you’re home. How was work?” He starts ducking into the refrigerator, then suddenly straightens up and gives his youngest brother a curious look. “… Uh. That’s my Big Katsu. Why are you eating it??”

Given that his teeth are currently sunk into it, Totty feels a little guilty. So at least he doesn’t have to fake the expression on his face. “Oh… sorry, Choro-nii-san! I’m just really hungry… I’ll buy you another one tomorrow.”

After a moment, Choromatsu sighs, evidently deciding to let Totty off the hook rather than fight with him about it. “Yeah, that’s fine. I was saving it, but if I haven’t craved it this long, I can wait. There’s other stuff I can have for a snack.” He opens the refrigerator door and pulls out a single mini carton of milk, then frowns. “Hey, wasn’t there some leftover takoyaki in here?”

He huffs as he closes the fridge. “Dammit. Osomatsu probably ate the rest of it while I wasn’t paying attention, the douche.”

He shakes his head and gets in the pantry for a bag of potato chips instead. “Guess these’ll do till dinner. Hey, Totty, you’re probably still hungry, right? Why don’t you share with me? I’m not starving or anything… half a bag would do it for me, I think.”

Totty’s stomach twinges suddenly, alerting him that he may have eaten too much. He’s not used to shoveling down this much at one time, though the realization that he’s uncomfortably full doesn’t stop him from hurriedly cramming the rest of the Big Katsu into his mouth.

And, honestly, it’s not like he can say no to the offer. He just told his big brother he was hungry and he’s been gulping down food at an insatiable pace. Thinking about the taste of potato chips sort of makes him want some.

Plus… Choromatsu is being nice by sharing, despite the fact that Totty already took one of his snacks without even asking. It would be mean to turn that down when he’s just trying to make sure Totty gets fed properly.

So he plasters a smile on and tosses the wrapper before stepping toward his older brother. Everything’s fine. “Ah, yeah… sounds good.”

-

Everything is not fine.

Dinner is beginning to be a struggle to get through. Totty hates wasting the food, but his thought is to put it away for later when his stomach isn’t actively trying to kill him. The pain is different to anything he’s ever experienced, a feeling like he’s full all the way up to his chest and so can’t get a decent breath in. He feels cold and clammy even though he knows he’s sweating. In short, it sucks.

The one thing he counted on was his brothers not noticing that he wasn’t eating anything. After sharing the chips with Choromatsu, he started to feel like he was going to burst. Even though the sensation quieted down a little bit, it never quite went away.

Now that he’s been faced with a table full of food, it’s even worse. His stomach is gurgling and swirling and nothing helps. Not taking deep breaths through his nose, not taking tiny sips of his tea, not focusing on any other thoughts. Nothing. It’s all useless. He thinks that as soon as dinner is over, he’s gonna have to go throw up. No ifs, ands, or buts; one way or another, he’s gonna be sick.

His only hope now is that he can ride it out long enough for everyone to head their separate ways so he doesn’t have to face the humiliation of admitting that he ate too much and hurt his stomach.

“U-uh, Totty,” Choromatsu speaks up suddenly, “aren’t you gonna eat anything? You were hungry enough to eat my Big Katsu earlier, I’d have thought you were really looking forward to dinner.”

Ugh. Did he have to???

Totty forces a smile onto his face. “Oh, yeah, I… I guess I’m just not in the mood for this stuff tonight, you know?”

The look on Osomatsu’s face could be mistaken for someone who’d just swallowed a lemon. “What?! But Totty, this is your favorite! You’re not gonna eat any of it? You can’t just skip meals like that, dude.”

“Yeah,” Ichimatsu hums thoughtfully. “You’re not gonna be any more healthy or attractive if you’re starving, you know.”

Geez. His brothers are so fucking embarrassing. Choromatsu is giving him some backhanded concern, Osomatsu is overzealous as usual, and Ichimatsu sounds like a Goddamn after-school special.

Karamatsu, meanwhile, is scrutinizing him just the same. “Yes, Totty, my brother… you look rather pale. You really should eat something!”

“Yeah, yeah!” Jyushimatsu practically launches himself over the table, holding a bite of food from his own plate between chopsticks toward his little brother’s mouth. “Here! Winding up for the pitch… batter uuuuuup!”

“Ughhhhh!” Totty leans back, even though any movement unsettles his stomach further. “You guys are ridiculous! I’m fine! W-what, am I not allowed to have just lost my appetite without every single one of my big brothers making a federal case of it?!”

All the others share a silent look, then there comes a unanimous, “Nope.”

He groans and leans his arm against the table. Shit, it’s getting worse. All he wants to do is run to the bathroom and puke, so that maybe he’ll actually feel better. If he does that, though, everyone will be on his case about how much he ate instead of how little he’s eating right now. He doesn’t need nor want a lecture.

Actually, what he wants more than anything is to just be taken care of and told that it’s okay, he screwed up a bit, it’s not the end of the world. That would require confessing to this stupid mistake, though… and he really doesn’t want to do that. He’s so sure that if he does, he’s just going to get scolded instead of comforted.

When he looks around the table again, he notices that Choromatsu in particular looks worried. “C’mon, Totty. You know we care about you. Osomatsu and Ichimatsu are right; it’s not healthy to skip meals.”

“Dammit, I know that, Fappymatsu! Just because I’m pretty doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” Totty scowls down at the food before lifting his eyes back up. “If I take one bite, will you all get off my back?”

He hates that those words just came out of his mouth. Even if it’s just a single bite, he doesn’t think his stomach will be happy with him. The idea of eating anything isn’t sitting well with him.

What else can he do, though? Just like with literally everything else, his brothers won’t stop bugging him until he caves in and does whatever they want.

The others exchange a look and Osomatsu shrugs. “Yeah, that should do it! Maybe after you take a bite you’ll realize how good it is and how hungry you are.”

Shit. Well, now he doesn’t really have a way out.

He takes as deep a breath as he feels he can, and collects a bite of food with his chopsticks. Although he isn’t sure how noticeable it is, it feels like his hand is shaking as he raises it to his lips.

Maybe it’s better to do it fast and get it over with. So, that’s what he does. The food in his chopsticks disappears in rapid time, and even though it feels like swallowing a spoonful of glue, he manages to get it down.

“Th-there,” he announces as he slams his chopsticks down. A hiccup squeaks out of him, followed by a fist pressed to his mouth, then he glares around the table at his brothers. “Ha… happy now? God, you guys are… you’re such… such…”

His stomach roils aggressively, almost like he’s just been punched in the gut. He cuts himself off with a loud, painful belch… and whines softly, because he knows what’s coming next. There’s no possible way he can stop it, nor can he get up fast enough to make it to the bathroom.

He tries to clap his other hand over his mouth in some childish belief that if he just blocks the exit, so to speak, he won’t be sick. Predictably, it doesn’t work.

Only a second and a couple of retches later, Totty has vomited through his hands into his lap. It’s perhaps more than a little ironic that his attempt to avoid lectures and feeling shameful has led to something incredibly humiliating.

The tears well up almost immediately, and it doesn’t take long for him to be sitting here coughing, not quite knowing what to do except cry.

“A-ah, Totty!!” Someone’s up from their seat, grabbing him gently by the shoulders. It sounds like Choromatsu, he thinks. “Hey… hey, it’s okay. O-oh, no, no, guys, it’s okay ― yeah, Mom, Dad, it’s fine, I-I’ve got him. Totty, hey, c’mon. I’m gonna help you to the bathroom and we’ll get you cleaned up. Okay?”

All he can do is nod, and it seems like even the fact that he leans against Choromatsu, all streaked with puke, doesn’t bother his brother.

It’s a short walk to the bathroom. He thinks he hears one of the others getting up to clean whatever mess he’s left behind. He just concerns himself with getting into the bathroom, then with lifting his arms when told so Choromatsu can help peel the soiled clothes off.

“It’s okay, Totty. E-everything’s alright.” His voice is low and gentle as he manages to also get Totty’s pants off, hanging everything over the side of the bathtub. If he’s lucky, one of the others will come rinse them off so they can go right in the wash while he tries to take care of getting Totty situated on the couch or something. “I’m gonna take care of you. You just cry as much as you need to, as long as you cooperate with me, okay?”

Totty sniffles, doing his best to stop crying. This is so embarrassing. “O-okay…”

Eventually the crying tapers off a bit, to the point that he can breathe normally again. His mouth has a bad taste and his throat hurts; at least his stomach feels a lot better, though. He’s just so mortified that he threw up on himself in front of his entire family after trying to save himself from this fate.

What did you think was gonna happen when you ate something else after already being stuffed and nauseous, dummy?? His mind is exactly no help at all, unfortunately.

Choromatsu is careful as he tries to get his little brother cleaned. As soon as all his dirty clothes are off, he wipes a wet cloth over Totty’s mouth to wash off any remnants of vomit and helps Totty wash his hands in the sink. He holds a couple pieces of toilet paper over Totty’s nose so he can blow, which makes him feel slightly less gross.

Once there’s no more danger of new clothes having leftover puke dripped on them, he darts out to the closet in the other room and comes back with a pair of Totty’s pajamas. It feels somuch better to be in fresh clothes after Choromatsu gingerly tugs them on.

With all of that done, Choromatsu sets a hand against Totty’s forehead and gives a contemplative hum. “Well, you don’t feel warm… you might still be coming down with something, though. I think maybe you should just go right to bed. We’ll get you settled on the couch in the other room so that hopefully the rest of us don’t catch it, and I’ll get you some ginger ale or something, okay?”

The idea of all that sounds nice, sure. He feels a little guilty for not being honest, however, so… “Um, Choromatsu-nii-san… I-I’m not… I’m not sick. I… I think I ate too much today, and… that bite I took out there was just kind of… th-the last straw, you know?”

Choromatsu frowns. “You ate too much? You said you were really hungry when you got home. And all I remember seeing you eat was my Big Katsu and some of the chips.”

“I ate a lot more than that,” he confesses, rubbing at his teary eyes. “There was some stuff I had while I was at work, a-and… and I was the one who ate the last of the takoyaki. I was just going through the fridge and the cupboards for a while before you walked in.”

“Oh… okay, I get that. Why didn’t you just tell us you overate today instead of forcing yourself to eat?”

More tears bubble up and start rolling down his cheeks. “B-because… because I thought if I did, you’d all just lecture me and tell me, ‘Oh, you shouldn’t do that, Totty!’ The day was so bad already…”

The more he talks, the more tears fall. “It was just one thing a-after another! Work was shitty, everything that could go wrong did,and I didn’t want you guys harping on me! I-I know I fucked up eating a lot, but doing it just… made me feel better for a minute… like the day wasn’t so crappy, like I could pretend everything was okay because I was eating something good. So I just… d-didn’t wanna tell you guys… I-I know you’d say it’s bad for me…”

Quietly, Choromatsu pulls Totty up off the toilet and into a hug. His hand rubs calmingly between his little brother’s shoulder blades, shortly after switching to a series of pats. “Hey, you learned your lesson. I know you think we’d give you some big speech… and maybe you’re not wrong. But I’m sorry it felt like you had to hide it and suffer on your own. That’s not what we want! We just wanna take care of you. If we lecture like that, it’s just because we love you.”

“I-I know,” Totty mumbles into Choromatsu’s shoulder. “Are you… are you mad at me? For doing it in the first place and for not telling you?”

“Mad? No! No, no, no way. I’m not mad!” Choromatsu presses a brief kiss to the top of Totty’s head. “You’re my baby brother. How could I be mad at you for this? Just… you know… next time, come talk to us instead of going to the food. I’d rather listen to you complain for hours than have you eat yourself sick.”

He gives a cautious squeeze, somewhat reassured when Totty squeezes back. They stay like this for a few minutes, with Totty burying his face against Choromatsu’s shoulder and Choromatsu rubbing Totty’s back.

Finally Choromatsu lets out a sigh. “Just so you know… even if we lecture you a little, we’ll still try to take care of you if there’s anything we can do. But we’ll… also do our best not to lecture as much when you come to us. Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah… it doesn’t hurt that much anymore.” He mirrors the sigh and just sinks into his big brother’s embrace. “Can I still go lie down, though? In the futon?”

Choromatsu nods and pulls Totty up when he gets to his feet. “Yeah, of course. That’s probably a good idea even though you’re not really sick.”

“And… can I still have some ginger ale?”

“Yeah, I’ll get that for you after we get you settled.”

Totty is silent for a few seconds while they walk down the hall, then he speaks up again. “… Will you maybe stay and cuddle with me for a minute, too? Even though I’m not sick?”

Choromatsu glances down before chuckling. Does he really think he has to tack on that condition, as if Choromatsu won’t cuddle just because Totty isn’t actually sick? “I… o-of course, Totty. All you have to do is ask, even if you’re not sick.”

“Okay…” By this time they’ve reached the bedroom, so he stands aside while Choromatsu unrolls the futon. Before too long he’s lying down, and Choromatsu has both arms around him, gently stroking his hair.

He closes his eyes and nuzzles against his brother. “Thank you… you’re the best nii-chan ever.”

He can feel Choromatsu grinning. “Am I even better than leftover takoyaki?”

Totty pouts at the jab, but snuggles closer regardless. “Way better.”