#i'm cracking up about it too just thinking of the future!! how the tables turn

[overnightheartbeats]

"Well yes, but—" to no avail. He was on a roll, and there was nothing that could stop him. The more he spoke, the more ashamed she felt. He was right. Her friends had been nice, telling her it wasn't her fault, but Isaac didn't know her. And, clearly didn't care enough about her to lie. This was on her. Her immaturity and irresponsibility caused this. She really was the reason his life was in danger. "We weren't going in blind, we had the intel! Our teams were on the same page." All that to say, Calhoun and Gleason did all the talking, because she had not talked much to Eli that day. Despite the bubbling frustration, she spoke in hushed whispers, reminding herself they were in a hospital. "Yeah sure it's strange, but I'm not—I haven't had a chance to analyze the case." At least they were also in agreement over that. He wasn't her superior, but the protocol did apply regardless. "Yeah," she huffed out. "I'd quit." Laurel couldn't think of it, what to do if he didn't recover. She knew, for a fact though, she wouldn't be able to return to work without him.

it was pretty obvious that she was hiding something. She knew the weird vibes Gleason said were just her feelings come forward. The same feelings she had wanted to talk to Eli about. Part of her was willing to tell his brother, if that helped in any way to help him understand. But, no she refused. Laurel hadn't had the chance to tell Eli, the one who mattered. She'd be damned if she told someone else first. "Maybe I should. Memory loss would keep me from returning to work," she countered, feeling his narrowed eyes on her. He didn't believe her, and she knew he had good reason. There was something she hid, but it was only meant for Eli to hear. No one else.

"I wouldn't." She agreed that she had hurt him, but the way he phrased it fired her up. Laurel couldn't pinpoint why, perhaps because he still questioned that she cared. "He means a lot to me. You're accusing me like I set off the damn building and purposely left him in there. I would never do that. I'm guilty of not talking to him the night before, a petty reaction sure, but I would never want this for him. You don't think it's crossed my mind? That my partner abandoned me, and that I'm only alive because Eli came back for me? It's all I've been thinking. I know that should've been me, and not him. He'd be okay right now." Survivor's guilt, or just the helplessness of seeing the guy she loved in danger. It was probably both. "That's all I ever want for him. I love him too, it's not just you."

Laurel's attention was drawn to the nurse before inevitably returning to endure more of his brother's wrath. She had no good answer for him, nothing she hadn't answered for him already. She wasn't standing as tall anymore, hands crossed over her shoulders and looking away from his accusing gaze. Laurel's head quickly shot up when she saw Julia marching right over to them. Being his brother's current reason his anger was fine for her guilty self, but Laurel couldn't deny the relief she felt upon seeing her friends. She was trying to find a good time to but in and tell Julia who the guy was. After all, she had made that mistake earlier too. When she turned to her, Laurel leaned in, "Juju, this is Isaac. Eli's brother."

Aaron didn't hesitate to let go of her hand as she walked off to step in for her friend. It seemed odd, for him to be the one to stay behind. He was perfectly capable of stepping up for Laurel too. Even from here, it was obvious. Whoever this was was not giving her any breathing room, and she was shutting down. But, he knew that of the two, his girl was the one to fear. So, he just watched as she effortlessly told off the man in the FBI jacket. He couldn't help but be proud of her, how protective she was of those she loved.

"You were upset with him. Ah, so yet another failure of communication with a co worker." To be honest she was racking up points the more she talked. "So, you rather have a co worker go in blind then push aside differences for a night and talk it out to make sure everyone was on the same page before said mission happened. Not only that but you were all operating on different mediums. Don't you think that's a little strange?"

He shook his head, he wasn't in the business to order her around. "I'm not your superior so I've got no say on the matter. I'm merely pointing out protocol in case you forgot." He hummed annoyed and let out a slow breath. "Well, what if he doesn't get in the clear? Going to quit?"

Eyebrows rose as suddenly Laurel fell into the don't know category. "Interesting. Memory loss, maybe you should get that checked out since you're here." He eyed her suspiciously knowing for a fact that she thought he was stupid. Contrary to belief, he and Eli did talk even if they weren't always on the same time zone.

"You wouldn't hurt him? Really, are you sure? From where I'm standing he may never wake up or recover from this. There's a one in a million shot this is one of those 72 hour cases where the person doesn't in fact make it. He went in after you knowing he was breaking about a thousand protocols, even though whatever petty bullshit was happening between the two of you was hanging over him. He still went in because your own partner was seemingly careless enough to let you fend for yourself." This was a pained brother speaking. This wasn't an agent telling it like it was. This was a brother who was terrified he was about to lose him over something that could have been avoided talking. "It seems like training and common sense went out the window."

Issac cooled down as a nurse confirmed Eli was now transfered and in his room. He thanked her and turned to Laurel. "Why are you fighting so hard to see him when you were just fine not being within feet from him just a day ago now."

When Julia and Aaron came down she didn't expect the sight she encountered. Her best friend cowering before a giant of a man. It was when she overheard him that she went into fierce protector mode. Letting go of Aaron's hand she went over and stood right in front of the guy, pushing Laurel to stand beside her. "Because she cares. Being upset at someone doesn't mean you stop loving them. Do you have friends, siblings? Ever had a fight with them? Did they stop loving you or you them? Don't think so. More apt question is what do you think gives you the right to talk to her like that? Think you're all mighty because you're a man. She doesn't have to answer to you either. You don't own the hospital." She turned to Laurel making sure she was okay before facing the man again. Unafraid.

[kazumiwrites-fanfiction]

Accidental Confessions

REQUEST: I FINALLY THOUGHT OF MY REQUEST May I request Azul, Jade and Riddle getting high because of mushrooms for some unknown reason and confessing to a gn reader bc their ability to stay composed just went completely out the window? It's more of a fluff/crack idea I came up with, sorry if it's not too clear @thehollowwriter

SUMMARY: When the usually cool and composed guys accidentally confess due to... Some interesting foods. WORD COUNT: 1.3k

WARNINGS: Mushrooms (need I say anything else), maybe OOC, Jade and Floyd and Azul shenanigans, they may act like they're under the influence of drugs (no actual drugs in the story though!!), these poor guys (please give them hugs), Ace is chaos A/N: Me, trying to make sure I get everything right: *types in Google* "what happens when you get high" on my school computer Don't do drugs guys :D (I would've said kids but I'm like 96% sure that most of the people reading my fics are in fact older than me) I love how I finished this a while ago and then was like "I'm gonna add a bit more to the end" and it was only like a paragraph- Azul is my favorite, you can see from how much I write for him </3 Also I love fluff and crack, I enjoy writing it the most! Feel free to send more requests like these <3

© kazumiwrites - All rights reserved; please do not steal, edit, copy, repost (etc) my work without my express permission.

Azul Ashengrotto

You know, Azul should have known better.

Jade always went out and got some mushrooms on his hikes, and he seemed pretty confident that he knew the different types of mushrooms.

But one single mistake - a mushroom similar enough to a perfectly fine edible one - and now he felt woozy.

Great.

It wasn't an unpleasant experience - he felt happy in that dreamy way, where you weren't able to comprehend much. But he knew this was bad.

What if he got addicted? That would ruin all his plans for his future. He needed to have a clear head.

He really should've been resting, but unfortunately, Floyd had ran off (most likely so he didn't have to be near the mushrooms). Due to that, Mostro Lounge needed an extra pair of hands.

So when he saw you, he immediately was on guard as much as he could be. Who knows what he could let slip when you were so close, and his thinking wasn't at its best…

He tried to avoid you, but unfortunately (again? Why were so many bad things happening to him today?) you sat at the table closest to him.

He had to go up to you and take your order. Your sweet smile almost made him melt, a soft flush on his cheeks as he just nodded quietly, jotting your order down.

You thought it was odd - Azul was usually the type to chat people up, try to get as much of a profit in as possible - but today was different. It made you a bit worried, honestly.

As you asked if he was all right, Azul's eyes widened.

His mind went blank, and the only words that left his lips were, "Sorry, you were just really cute, and I-" He froze as he realized the words he said, trying to backtrack, but he couldn't think right. "I mean, I just thought your smile was- you- I-" He shook his head slightly. "Forget it," he said, hands shaking slightly out of embarrassment as he turned and walked away.

As Jade had been watching and listening to the interaction, he quickly made your order before handing it to Azul (who had been hoping for some rest behind the counter before seeing you). Jade was saying something about how Azul really needed to be quicker with processing orders - Azul was pretty sure that Jade knew about his feelings toward the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm.

Azul sighed softly before trudging back to you, the food and drink you ordered held in a tray. "There you go."

As you inquired about what his previous words had been about, he saw the teasing glint in your eyes.

Did you know?

"It was nothing- I just like you a-" A slip of the tongue. Damn it. He hadn't meant to say that. He quickly backed away before almost sprinting to the VIP Room, his cheeks flushed a bright red. He almost ran into the doorframe though (which Jade may or may not have taken a picture of).

Bonus:

"I told you that Azul likes you a lot." Jade smiled, a small glint of his teeth showing. "Did you plan this?" "Jade might've given Azul an unusual mushroom~" That sing-songy voice had to be Floyd's. "I knew it." You rolled your eyes a little. "That was cute, though. Although your method might have been a little mean. Poor Azul." "You can go talk to him after you enjoy your meal." Jade smiled at you. "And Floyd, you haven't had anything to eat. Perhaps you would like one of the mushroom soups I've made?" "No- I've had enough of your mushrooms." A soft whine came out of the other tweel's lips. "But maybe Koebi-chan wants some?" "Thanks for the offer, but I probably should go to Azul as soon as possible." You laughed softly. "There's no telling what's happening to him right now, after all."

Jade Leech

Jade had a heavy mishap on his hands. He had gone a bit overboard with picking his mushrooms, and then Floyd had gone and messed with his careful labeling.

And then he didn't check the contents and labels thoroughly before he put them into a little snack for himself.

So now here he was, stumbling to Ramshackle Dorm for no reason in particular.

It was a wonder how he hadn't stumbled off the path, what with the hallucinations he was seeing.

He stumbled inside (luckily the door wasn't locked), quickly moving to your room.

At first you thought he was Floyd due to how off he was acting. But nope, that was definitely Jade.

"Jade?" Your eyes were wide as you stared at the male. "What are you doing here?"

"I love youuuuu." Well, that was a surprise.

Now you were really wondering if this wasn't Floyd. It sounded like something he would say.

As the tall male draped himself over you, you awkwardly tried to get both of you comfortable on the small chair. It was no use, however, as you toppled off of your chair and onto the ground.

You let out a soft huff, staring up at Jade who had fallen on top of you. How fun…

He seemed to have fallen asleep, relaxed on top of you. Well, at least he didn't seem to have gotten hurt.

You awkwardly patted his hair as you gave up trying to move. The floor was uncomfortable… But you could bear it, you didn't want to stop looking at Jade's sleeping face.

Riddle Rosehearts

Ace, the prankster he was, had put in an insane amount of sugar in some cookies he was making. He had then given the cookies to Riddle.

The unsuspecting Riddle had accepted the cookies, feeling a bit confused. Why was Ace making cookies…? No matter.

He was starting to eat some of the cookies when you had been brought to the Heartslabyul dorm (totally not by force).

You were also confused, and for good reason. Ace was saying something about pranking his housewarden, but to be honest? What reason did he have for calling you here?

You were pretty sure it was just so Ace didn't get punished. He didn't want to keep getting in trouble, after all. Though, the rational thought would be to not prank Riddle at all… But oh well.

"Hey, Riddle," you said, feeling a bit uncertain. You smiled a little at the male.

"Oh- hi, kantokusei." The red-haired male blinked at you, looking confused.

"Yeah, so- Ace dragged me here? I don't really know why, but-"

He paused for a heartbeat before replying. "I don't know why he brought you here either." He sighed softly, shaking his head.

"Well…" You shrugged awkwardly. "Are those cookies any good?" You gestured vaguely towards the plate in front of him.

"They're too sweet." Riddle frowned a little. "Ace has no delicacy in doing these things, he thinks more is always better."

You let out a soft laugh. "Sounds like him." Just as you reached for a cookie, his hand brushed past yours.

He froze, cheeks flushing adorably. All the sugar in his system was making his heart race and not be focused on what he was thinking.

Before he could even question it, he grabbed your hands. "…I like you a lot." he got out before freezing yet again, hands still holding yours. Why had he said that?

Little did either of you know, Ace was wheezing behind the closed door. He had put in a small little potion, nothing major, that caused a person to say what they felt to the person they liked. He had gotten it from Azul, and it clearly had worked.

The deal had been worth it to get blackmail on his housewarden. Now, if only he could somehow use this to get rid of Riddle as housewarden and all of his strict rules… That would be great. Maybe he could even actually win?

As always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! ♡ Send your thoughts grr

This post has details for requesting, and I also currently have a writing event going on here. Please check it out!

[r0mantic-f00l]

DAD REGULUS I REPEAT DAD REGULUS ‼️ with any senecio you want just DAD regulus

I fear u have just inspired me to make a series of just dad regulus 😞😞

Meant to Be

Regulus Black is meant to be a father.

You believe that completely whenever you see him interact with your children, that adoring and loving look in his eyes whilst he smiles and laughs. Of course, he smiled and laughed before your children came along, but it became different. His smile turned wider and brighter, and his laugh is louder and more joyful.

He was terrified to become a father, afraid that he wouldn't feel like a parent and there would always be a distance between him and his child because of that.

However, as soon as you gave birth to your first daughter Adelia, he held her in his arms and she wrapped her tiny hand all around his index finger. That's when he knew he would do anything for his little girl, that's when he felt complete.

When you were pregnant with your second daughter Audrea, Regulus would talk to your stomach all the time, speaking about how much he loves her, how much her older sister cannot wait to see her, how much he loves you for not only being his soulmate, but also being the mother of his two children.

He never thought he could have a family, but when he met you, he felt an inkling, he saw a vision of a happy family in his future.

♡

You have just came back into your house after grocery shopping, carrying two bags all the way to your kitchen where you proceed to empty the bags and place all the food in the right places.

Regulus usually helps you, but you assume that he did not hear the front door open and shut, as he is most likely occupied playing with Adelia.

Chatter that contains a squeaky high-pitched voice and a deep cool voice flows into your ears from upstairs, Adelia's bedroom door being open. You smile and walk up the stairs after you finish putting all the groceries away.

Clinking of small tea cups is heard amongst Adelia talking excitedly as you approach her room, only looking in through the sliver of the cracked-open door as to not disturb this precious moment.

"Here's your tea, Daddy." Adelia places the empty tea pot down on the small table, her plastic tiara shifting down her head as she looks down.

Regulus has a pink cape that is way too small for him wrapped around his neck as he wears a matching tiara to his daughter's. He holds the baby Audrea in his lap, holding her up against his torso with one arm wrapped securely around her as he lifts up his empty small tea cup and pretends to sip whatever drink Adelia 'poured' into it.

"Mm, how lovely!" The man takes another sip as if he truly enjoys the 'drink' and places the delicate cup down on the table.

"Thank you, honey."

"You're welcome, Daddy."

"I thought my name was Prince Daddy?"

"Oh yeah! And-and I'm Princess Adelia."

"Of course, my princess." Regulus bows his head, Audrea grabbing onto a long curly strand of his black hair, cooing as she yanks it.

"Ow, okay, okay, sweetie, let go. Let go of Daddy's hair." He gently pulls his hair out of the baby's grasp.

Adelia is pouring tea into hers and Regulus' tea cup once again, taking a sip out of her small porcelain cup and rubbing her stomach as she hums happily.

"No tea for your sister?" Regulus asks.

"No, she doesn't want any."

"How do you know that?"

"She told me."

"Right, so a four month old baby can speak to you."

Adelia crawls to where Regulus is sat on the floor and puts a finger under the baby's mouth, moving it as she speaks.

"'I don't want any tea, Princess Adelia. I don't wike it.'"

The baby laughs as she stares at her older sister.

"Don't do that." Regulus says softly, with an amused smile on his face.

"Sorry Daddy." Adelia chirps happily before crawling back over to her side of the table.

You smile warmly, feeling such love for your wonderful family as you watch the scene in front of you, but you now have the strong urge to join in.

"I think you mean Prince Daddy?" You correct your daughter's little mistake as you step into the room with a grin on your face, Regulus immediately smiling at you as your daughter gasps and stands up to run to you, hugging your legs.

"Mummy, can you join my tea party?" Adelia asks with a hopeful look in her eyes.

You pretend to consider it for a moment, a finger tapping your chin as you glance up at the ceiling.

"Hm, okay then. But as long as I get to be Princess Mummy."

"No, you'll be... you'll be Queen Mummy."

You sit next to your husband on the carpeted floor and kiss Audrea's forehead as she coos.

"Wait, why am I Prince Daddy and she's Queen Mummy? Shouldn't I be a King?" Regulus protests with a frown on his face.

Adelia giggles at his pout and points at her father.

"No, no, you're just a Prince!"

You smirk as Regulus slumps over and shakes his head, yet he still smiles softly.

"Prince Daddy, can you give Queen Mummy your crown?"

"Sure, should I give her my tea cup too?" Regulus mumbles under his breath as he places the plastic tiara on your head instead, the crown wonky in its placement.

"Yes, please." Adelia nods her head, grinning with mischief as Regulus holds his mouth open in faux offense.

"Be nice to your Daddy, he just lost his crown!" You tickle Adelia's side, her laughter making you smile wider.

"Yeah, I think Uncle Sirius has been rubbing off on you too much." Regulus shakes his head as he grins.

The tea party continues until Regulus prepares dinner, the four of you sat around the dining table as you feed Audrea mushed carrots whilst Regulus bribes Adelia with chocolate to eat her broccoli and cauliflower.

The golden sun shines through the windows in the dining room, making your husband's hair glow and the fake ruby in your daughter's crown twinkle.

Regulus laughs as Adelia begins to eat her vegetables with such enthusiasm after he promised her that she can have chocolate cake after dinner, and you feel your heart swarm with love.

Regulus Black is meant to be a father.

[luna0713hunter]

Can you write more prompts for Zoro pleaseee? Thank you:))

Author's note : haha!!!i was actually gonna write a new fic for zoro when i saw your request!!!as always,ask and you shall receive!

College love

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Summary : new semester,new classes,new classmates and a new love

Warnings : none,College au (my favorite trope),studying and late night talks, gender neutral ,maybe more parts?,not me in the middle of exam season and dying from overworking myself

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

College sucks.

Everyone tells you college is great;its a place full of new experiences,a new life. Having coffee with friends after lectures and studying together,or simply doodling in your notebook as the professors talk about gods know what.

But as you sip your third cup of coffee that night and rub your eyes while yawning,you glance down at the remaining pages you have to go through before your exam in two days,before you groan and bang your head to the table.

Its exam season,and you're currently sitting in the library at 3:04 am.

College sucks so bad.

You know you have tomorrow to study as well,but between working part time job at a near the campus cafe, and going to lectures,you barely had any time to study.

You stared at your empty cup of coffee and sighed before standing up;then you guess its time to get a refill

✧

"wow,you look like shit."

You dont raise your head from the desk as you groan at your friend.

"hello to you too,Nami."

Nami drops his bag next to you with a 'Thump' and settles down. You feel her hand rub up and down your back (almost awkwardly) and through your misery you manage to crack a smile;being comforting is like a physical torture for your ginger friend.

"did you pull another all nighter?"

Slowly,your head turns in her directly and you narrow your eyes.

"not everyone can be both gorgeous and smart effortlessly like you,Nami. Us, lowly humans,have to choose one." You ignore her eye roll and continue, "and i choose the one that can get me a good job in the future."

"looks can be pretty useful too,honey."

"I'm going to choke you."

"be my guest."

You're too busy to bicker that you dont even notice the door of the class opening and a new person stepping inside. Just as Nami's about to wrap her arm your neck and choke you instead, that's when your eyes land on the new person in the class.

And your breath stops all together.

The first thing that catches your eyes is his green hair. The man is tall,and a mess of green hair making his brown eyes stand out more. There are three golden piercings on his left ear. His black leather jacket looks expensive,and you dont need to see the key to guess that he's probably owns a motorcycle..

"y/n!" You realize you've been staring shamelessly at the man and suddenly whip your head in Nami's direction.

"Nami!" You grip her shoulders and shake her violently, "who's that?!why havent i seen him around?do you know him??is he single???!!"

Nami shoulders off your hands and looks at you like you've grown a second head.

"He's Zoro Roronoa. Our classmate. You haven't seen him cause he almost never shows up at lectures. What the hell is wrong with you exactly?"

"what's wrong with me is that the man is drop dead gorgeous," you frown at her, "and geez girl. How do you know so much about him?"

"cause he's my "kinda friend". We go out drinking together sometimes."

"WHAT?!"

Your shriek is so loud,that when you turn around, you see mr.gorgeous is eyeing you with annoyance.

Great. Your new crush thinks you're crazy.

You duck your head as your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Nami rubs your back sympathetically and you groan tiredly.

"want me to introduce you to him?"

"hell no," you whine and rest your cheek against your desk; letting the surface cooling down your heated skin, "he obviously hates my guts now."

"to be fair,Zoro hates everybody's guts."

"its just a crush Nami," you flash her a smile, "it'll go away eventually."

Unfortunately,it in fact,doesnt go away eventually.

After your embarrassing moment in the classroom,you seem to run into Zoro awfully alot; Whether it be getting a coffee from the near campus cafe,or working your shift there,you seem to always see him.

Zoro liked his coffee black,that was no surprise. The first time that you surved him the black hell,he hadnt even batted an eye at your shakey hands or your stutter.

And you were certain that he had forgotten all about you.

Among the finals creeping close and closer,and with you drowning yourself under your books until morning before going back to your lectures or job,you had completely forgotten all about him.

So when you drop your head on your text book at almost 4 am and try hard not to burst into tears or having a mental breakdown in the almost empty library,you almost scream when a warm can of coffee touches your cheek.

Your head snaps up,and your mouth parts into a small scream that soon gets an ugly glare from the librarian. You shoot her an apologizing look,before turning your head back to the person in front of you.

Zoro freaking Roronoa,holds the coffee in his hand and gives you an unimpressed annoyed look.

"why are you always so loud?"

You dont answer;your mouth hangs open from the shock,and you blink a few times to make sure you're not hallucinating.

"what," you clear your throat, "i,uh, excuse me?"

Zoro rolls his eyes and sits down in front of you while dropping his own backpack on the table. He then slides the drink in front of you and while folding his arms across his chest,he eyes you for a second before looking away.

"you look like a mess. Figured you needed some coffee," he gives you a displeased look from the corner of his eyes, "or some sleep."

Your hands wrap themselves around the warm can;and a small laugh escapes your dry lips.

"you think i can sleep with all these books?i can barely manage between lectures and my part time job with only two hours of sleep as it is!" And for some reason,your stupid brain decides that its a great idea to cry in front of your crush;as if you haven't embarrassed yourself before. So your lower lip starts to wobble,and you let out a small sniffle.

There's a moment of silence;where neither of you say a word. With you starting to finally breakdown,and Zoro just glaring at the textbooks like they had personally offended him. Finally,after a while,you hear him sigh and look up at him with your blurry vision.

"... I'll help you."

"what?"

Another sigh.

"i said, I'll help you study. Im familiar with this stuff,so it'll be nothing."

You let out a loud gasp and stand up from your sit .

"Seriously?!wont you need that time to study?!"

"helping you makes me remember these stuff. It'll be alright."

And when you hold his hands in his,you grin so widely that you feel your cheeks hurting. You shake his hands and laugh lightly.

"thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!"

"yea yeah." He shakes off your hands and stands up,and amongst your joy,you manage to catch a small smile on his lips. Zoro flings his backpack on his shoulder and walks away. He gives you one last look and says "go home and rest for now. See you tomorrow."

And suddenly,the world doesnt seem so bad. College doesn't suck,and your crush, apparently,doesnt hate your guts after all.

[kitorin]

to you, my lover.

in which, shinonome akito surprises his favourite writer.

contents. shinonome akito x gn!reader, just fluff really, <- might've ruined it with an attempt of crack, unproofread and messy bc i can't think properly anymore a/n. this was supposed to be my birthday fic, i didn't finish it in time and was considering deleting but nah not today

You're tired. Really tired.

It's not a complaint, being permitted to stay out late to celebrate your birthday, now returning on a long yet peaceful and empty train ride. With the occasional rattling, it was silent, with the exception of your tired breathing and the rustle of your clothes every time you shuffled around a bit.

And your boyfriend.

Arms crossed and back leaned against his seat, his eyes remain shut, resting a bit after such a long day. Fatigue pays a visit to you as well, a yawn claws out of your throat, earning an immediate reaction from Akito.

Arm snaking behind your head, he pulls you in by the shoulder, making sure you rest comfortably against his. You snuggle against him, the scent of his cologne makes you crave more of him and his touch. The jacket that was once resting on his lap is thrown over you, and carefully he adjusts it, without moving his shoulder.

"Tired?"

You nod, resting your eyes a bit.

"If you're able to stay awake, I want to give you my gift."

"Excuse me?" As if you weren't ever exhausted in the first place you sit up, staring at him with confusion. "Akito, you bought me pretty much every book on my 'to be read'. Not to mention the promise rings too." Your glance at the silver wrapping around your finger, amber and saffron imbedded into it. "I told you so many times I didn't need anything, let alone something that would've costed so much."

Akito shrugs casually. "There's no such thing as 'too much' when it comes to you."

"And there's a thing called being financially irresponsible..."

"I'm managing my money carefully, I swear." He pledges with breathless laughter. "I assure you it wasn't expensive, I promise. I'm going to give you the world when I go professional, anyways." He fishes for something out of his bag, something small and wrapped with colourful paper.

"This feels like a book." You comment instantly, it's easy to identify when you've received so many for your birthday.

Akito shrugs again in response. "Check it, then."

You oblige to his words, unwrapping the package in a manner that didn't make a mess on the train. Your guess was correct, it is a book. Only this time with an unrecognisable title and author— it didn't have either. It was white, with nothing else.

"Who's the author?"

Another shrug, and you decide not to bother asking anymore questions. You turn to the first page.

Table of contents. This time you recognise the titles.

Because they belong to none other than you.

"You printed it out all of this?" You've re-read your writing constantly, whether it be proof-reading or trying to figure out how to elevate your prose. But when it's in your hands in the form of a book instead of the words you type up on your laptop, it feels surreal, maybe even a bit wrong. It's everything you've sent and shown him, whether it be fan fiction, attempts at poetry, extracts of screenplays, or snippets from future novels you plan on publishing.

"'Course I did. You love books, I love you and your writing." Akito says it all the time, always being the first person to read your works, sending a plethora of text messages about his thoughts on them.

You inspect the contents of the book, and as he said it's all your work. But, pale highlighter adorns the pages, black ink decorating in between lines, hearts and even more words committed to paper.

The imagery here is gorgeous here. I love these words especially ->

Although I can't and don't, I feel like I can relate to this character, the way you express their internal thoughts and actions makes me feel like I've become them

Why is he so adorable?? The dialogue is so sweetly comforting.

I think this one's my favourite. It was super cute. Short and simple but enough to make me smile all day.

You turn to another story, this one with a darker premise.

SHE DESERVES BETTER !!

This hurts so much ╥﹏╥ Internal monologue is a 11/10 (as always)

Uh oh...

PLEASE HAVE MERCY

SCREW YOU SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE A HAPPY ENDING

This one's my new favourite. Thanks for making me cry

(my tear stains) Small arrows point towards (formerly) wet patches on the page, the evidence left there shocks you.

"You actually cried? And annotated your tears?" Not once, but multiple times, on each work that connoted anything sad.

"Love, your writing, just like you, makes me feel a lot. It's not often I cry, you know." He leans in to kiss you on the cheek. "Hope my annotations did it some justice."

Each comment makes you smile irresistibly, whether it was a serious paragraph breaking down and analysing specific moments or 'someone cooked here.' being scrawled. No details were missed by him, ones that you assumed were too subtle and therefore unnecessary because no one in your comments noticed them.

"You noticed all of this? None of my friends or readers did."

"Of course I did. I've read everything over and over again and love you too much to miss any of those details."

"And every note at the end is synonymous for 'new favourite'." It's not a complaint, it's quite adorable really, watching him struggle to make up his mind. "You even compiled your favourite quotes at the end? You think my stuff is quoteworthy?"

"How could I not? Heck, I don't think an anthology is enough. I need it tattooed somewhere on me." A gasp severs his words. "I know exactly what I'm going to do on my eighteenth birthday."

"Don't. Think about it." But the prospect of him loving your prose enough to permanently etch it into your skin makes you smile. "But seriously. This is beautiful, thank you." You're not sure why it feels so different, despite Akito always texting you these sorts of comments. Perhaps it was it's physical manifestation that had evoked so much emotion.

"I remember, when I first opened up to you."

And so do you. It was certainly awkward, with a plentiful amount of tears and uncertainty. But in the end you found yourself comprehending Akito and his character more, which was worth any sort of unpleasantries.

"You ended up analysing every song I covered or wrote. And you still do. I kept those notebooks with me, and read them whenever I felt worried. It's you. You're the reason why I can listen to recordings of myself without wanting to hide. Took me a while, but without you I wouldn't've achieved it."

You peer up at him, as he gazes at the train's roof, reminiscing those memories. You had contemplated for so long, wondering whether that act would've truly done anything, whilst worrying about embarrassing yourself. Now, being able to admire the peaceful expression he wore, you can easily say you have no regrets.

"I wanted to do the same for you. I didn't like how you weren't able to see the perfection your writing held." Akito's hand reaches for yours. "I know what it's like. To hate your own art because of what other people say and growing fearful of another's opinion, or how subjectivity doesn't seem to be in your favor. It's suffocating, that's why you mean the whole world to me for freeing me of that insecurity." He bites his lip, a method he relies on to quell any strong emotion.

He's spot on. The words of others are equally as capable of hurting as they are uplifting. It's common advice to not heed any mind to others, but when it comes to writing it always felt necessary to you. No matter how well you wrote to satisfy yourself, it didn't mean anything if no one else liked it; it meant no sales, meaning no money, which only meant that writing was an invalid career for the future unless it pleased others.

Even if it weren't a professional pursuit, it doesn't feel like something one can establish its value, at least, not without the validation of others.

"You were the lens I needed to see the beauty in myself. And I want to be the one you need."

You smile, planting a kiss on his lips. "Think you already are."

Akito sighs with a grin, "Then, I can die happy now."

A playful, gentle, slap hits his shoulder. "Quit being so overdramatic."

"What? Would've been a waste if the best author in the entirety of human history didn't get to see how amazing them and their writing were."

"Now you're just hyperbolising everything."

He pokes you in the cheek. "I see you smiling."

"Because of how ridiculous you are." You thank the train for being empty tonight, otherwise you wouldn't have the freedom of quarreling. "You're an idiot. Sometimes."

"And I still think having one of your quotes tattooed onto me would be a good idea."

Akito's persistent, even when it came to things that appeared to be mere jokes. "That's so random—? No you're not getting any of my writing tattooed onto you."

"Fine, but left pec or right pec?"

"Oh my god." Though you scold him, the rest dissolves into breathless laughter, as he pulls you in for a hug.

He scatters kisses all over your face, as you savour the warmth of his body. "Happy birthday, love."

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins, @pokkomi, @chigirizzz

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  dartlekey! @dartlekey has 11 fics in the Stranger Things Fandom and 9 of them are in the Steddie tag!.

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @dartlekey:

If you were church (I'd get on my knees)

RUSH! (T4T REMIX)

At a medium pace

With great power

"I read the "with great power" series not long after I got into the Steddie fandom and was instantly like "I need to raid this author's other fics" and subscribed to them. No regrets for that choice!!" -- Anonymous

Below the cut, @dartlekey answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

For me, Steddie hits that sweet spot of strong characterization but woefully underexplored details, both for the individual characters but also their dynamic with each other in canon. That makes their relationship the ideal writer's sandbox - since they're both so fluid, you can explore the characters through each other, showcasing many different and even conflicting facets of each other while still retaining their original characters and behaviors. Either of them can be rich or poor, famous or an everyguy, Gay or Bisexual, Dom or Sub, Top or Bottom, Trans in any direction - the details are up to you! 

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love a good slowburn friends-to-lovers fic. It needs to be a specific kind for me though - I'm not much one for prolonged pining, but I love it when the friendship is explored in such depth that the next step feels like an inevitability. Watching that deep platonic affection turn not-so-platonic, that's the good shit. 

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

My specialty as a writer, I think, is crack treated seriously, or crack with a twist. Usually the first question that sparks one of my fics is “If X happened, would that be hilarious or what?” and then the second is “But if it was because of Y, would that be fucked up or what?” I think you can see it best in If you were church I'd get on my knees (what if Steve was a stripper at Eddie's stag party BUT it was actually a social commentary on queerness and sexuality in the face of religious oppression), but it's in At a medium pace too (what if Eddie couldn't move his arms because of injury so Steve “has” to jerk him off, but it's actually about how growing up queer can warp your perspective on healthy sexuality) , or even in Don't look back (What if Eddie had to dom Steve for plot reasons, but it's all body horror and trauma and spiraling codependency). 

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

I don’t think I could name one all-time favorite, because what I enjoy most about fanfic is that different writers bring different character interpretations, storytelling styles and plot ideas to the table, which I find incomparable. I have enjoyed many of the well-known classics, of course (pukner I owe you my life--), but let me use this chance to give a shout-out to some less well-known masterpieces! My top three underrated fics are Three Days on the Red Planet by CaptainHoney/@grandmastattoo on tumblr (retro scifi, gritty but humorous hopepunk, every single fic of theirs is a certified banger but I love this one the most for some reason!!), Love dirty men alike by wrenowich (chef au, an ode to kitchen culture in all its griminess, I love a detailed backstory plus Steddie being wonderfully weird about each other), and That’s just wasteland, baby! by fastcardotmp3 (post-s4 apocalypse survival, sweet and aching and tired and yet hopeful, made me cry in the best way). 

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

One that's pretty unique to the steddie fandom, or perhaps general stranger things fandom, is “if canon event x had happened differently/hadn't happened at all/had happened to a different person, how would the rest of canon change?” I still need to work out a lot of details in my head, so that's all I'll say for now, but it's something I'm very interested in exploring.

What is your writing process like?

Much to the horror of fic writers everywhere, I don't do first drafts, I just write out everything in detail, scene by scene in chronological order. I edit as I go, and consider the many-numbered, often unplanned writing breaks an important part of my process - when I let the written portion sit for a while and the unwritten ideas percolate in my brain for a bit, I often end up with new plot points or solutions for problems I've been having! And when that inspiration strikes, I can write anywhere - on the train, during lunch break at work, in the vegetable aisle of the grocery store… I have gdocs on my phone and I use it liberally; I'd say I write at least 80% of any given fic on my phone. 

Do you have any writing quirks?

Apart from the hot mess I just described, I'd say it's that I never use Beta readers. I'll occasionally ask friends to help with specific details if I need an expert on certain subject matter, but I've found I get very grumpy and fussy if someone pokes at my plot (even if or rather especially if they’re right lol), and I don't want to subject anyone to that. 

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

For oneshots or series comprised of single-chapter fics I like posting as soon as I'm done, but for multi-chapter works I've recently found that starting to post only after I've finished most (if not all) chapters beforehand improves the quality of the story! Since I tend to integrate new ideas or shift around plot points a lot while writing, I often end up in completely different places than my original concept, so if an early chapter isn't posted yet I can retroactively edit it to add foreshadowing or tone-match the end of the work, remove loose threads and suchlike. Don't look back is a good example of how this has worked out for me; comparatively It don't bite (Yes it do) - which I wrote and posted chapter by chapter - is tonally all over the place. 

Which fic are you most proud of?

Naturally I love all my babies, but I consider Don't look back my magnum opus - both because it is the longest fic I've ever written (13 chapters and 90.000 words in total, that's practically a novel!) and because it's the most plot-rich, labor-intensive, and overall serious in tone. I even worked in subplots about the rest of the cast, so it almost reads like its own season. I wrote it for last year's Steddie Bigbang, which means there's also a gorgeous accompanying artwork by @the-chilly-kat. 

How did you get the idea for With great power?

At the time I'd seen a few marvel AUs floating past me on the tumblr timeline, usually with Steve as Spiderman and Eddie as the human component of Venom, and having just recently seen the Venom movie depicting the rich relationship between Eddie Brock and the symbiote, it surprised me that most left the symbiote as its own character, and not substituted one of the ST main cast. The symbiotic relationship of Stobin immediately came to mind, though I also still loved the idea of Steve as Spidey - then I remembered that in the Toby McGuire movies, the two are not mutually exclusive, and it all spiraled from there. Eddie as Deadpool just made sense - immortal wild-card with a dubious moral code but a heart of gold? Obviously! Plus Spideypool is, of course, a classic ship. 

When writing With great power, what was something you didn’t expect?

I actually got several curious comments about the sex toy Steve uses in Because the night - a grindable or grinder, which is a flat-ish silicone structure, usually ribbed in an interesting way, that one can grind against to get off (as the name suggests). I thought it was pretty common, but apparently it's not very well known!

What inspired  RUSH! (T4T REMIX)?

Oh, it's my time to gush! Because the idea for the first work actually came about from a late night conversation I had with the beautiful, amazing, wonderful @maikaartwork, back when we were, how should I say, in the courting stage? Seeing as we met through the Steddie fandom, I decided to write Baby Said basically to seduce them - and I am happy to say it worked, as we've been dating for over eight months now and are planning to move in together next year! Both works from RUSH! - T4T REMIX (and the secret new WIP, shh) are thus somewhat inspired by our conversations and our t4t relationship, but also by the many interesting and different trans people I've met over the years, and trans solidarity and relationships in general.

What was your favorite part to write from At a medium pace?

The small-talk in between position changes - no, really! I love a mindless marathon-fuck story as much as the next person, but there's something very sweet and intimate about those little breaks in sex, the pass the lube, move your leg a bit, what's for dinner later of it all. That's where you see that emotional connection - there's no admission of crushes or big love confessions in this fic because it's right there in the details.

How do/did you feel writing RUSH! (T4T REMIX)?

Honestly, it's just really really fun and self-indulgent. The Steddie dynamic in it is so bitchy, all the bickering makes me laugh even as I'm writing it. It's also just really fun to write about the trans experience in a way that is curious and loving, and reflects all the very different and yet similar ways people experience living in a body that defies expectation. I've loved all my fellow trans people sounding off in the comments about their own transition experiences, it's wonderful to have such a fantastic community!

What was the most difficult part of writing If you were church (I'd get on my knees)?

Curiously enough, not the many religious trauma bits! Much like Eddie in the fic, I'm only church-freak adjacent - I grew up in a non-religious household but with extended family that were extremely catholic, so the odd juxtaposition of being occasionally close to but definitely not involved in what is pretty much cult behavior inspired much of this fic. The most functionally difficult part to write was actually the wedding - as an aro-spec & trans relationship anarchist, church weddings have never been relevant to me, so I had very little idea what actually goes into one! Very little of the research I conducted on the topic actually made it into the fic, but hey, the more you know. 

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

People keep asking me that, and I never know what to answer! If I had to pick one, though, maybe the last few paragraphs of Don't look back - where you can see the tragedy coming, but there's no way of stopping it, because it was always going to end this way. And then Eddie's last words before the end of the fic call back to the title as well as the general theme of the fic - it just all comes together for such a crescendo of an ending. 

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Yes, actually! Coming soon in the SteddieBang'24, me and my lovely artist @hawkinsleather have been working hard on a 20k post-s4 fic called A glimpse of your canvas, which is about closeted transfemme!Eddie, women's solidarity, and Steve's very confusing no-good trip to the gay bar. Both With great power and RUSH! (T4T REMIX) have another WIP pending which I'll eventually finish (I promise, I'm just easily distracted!!), and for those who are still mad about Don't look back’s open ending, I'm almost done with the sequel, which features a lot of bad decisions by all characters involved, the healing power of community, and a bit of accidental child acquisition. 

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Given the chance of this platform, I would like to notify my readers that I'm a terrible procrastinator when it comes to replying to comments, but I read and cherish every one of them - and repeat commenters, I see you, I love you, I am chewing on your arm like a dog with a bone!! I would also like to thank the steddie fandom in general for giving me the hottest partner known to man or God, and for the many friendships I've been so fortunate to build here. Talk about transformative works, am I right? <3 

Thank you to our author, @dartlekey, and our anonymous nominator! See more of dartlekey's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[brotherblaze]

JAILBAIT² —simon 'ghost' riley

▹ simon 'ghost' riley/gn!reader

▹ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

▹ synopsis: Ghost leaves you in Soap's care while he's away on a mission and the two of you get along like a house on fire. So much so, that Ghost's first order of business upon his return is to drag your asses home from a pub.

▹ cw: suggestive themes

▹ wc: 2,7k

▹ info: i'm blocking blank/default blogs; y'all look like bots

The training room is loud. You spot Price and Ghost in the corner of the room, overseeing whatever the newbies are doing; you think they take rotations overseeing the newbies but you don't care enough to actually ask. Ghost has his arms crossed over his chest, intently staring at two recruits sparring and you almost feel sorry for the poor sap that's gonna get his spirits absolutely crushed by him.

"I know that you've got a lot on your mind like 24/7, but God, if you don't look like a brainless bimbo with a dump truck ass standing there like that." You smile when he looks at you, head slightly tilted to the side. A few heads turn to you, probably whispering their condolences to your future as you stop in front of Ghost. "I dig it, I dig it so much."

"How about we use our inside voices?" Price says.

"Yeah, sure, okay dad." You clap your hands together once. "I got a B on my final essay and I'm here for my prize."

Price cracks a smile. He places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes gently. "I'm proud of you." The smile his words get is wide, a glimmer in your eyes.

When he pulls back, Ghost leans in, his mouth at your ear, black balaclava pulled up to his nose. His warm breath caresses the shell of your ear, sends a shiver down your spine, and has blood rushing to your cheeks. "Good job, pet." The tone is low, savory, thick.

And fuck, your beaming smile has his heart thundering in his chest like a wild horse. The blood is rushing so loudly in his ears that he doesn't even hear what you say before you take off again. He lingers for a few moments, staring at the doorway, willing his pulse to slow down again.

Soap grabs the office chair next to yours and sinks into it. He pulls himself closer to you, still keeping a respectful amount of distance between you. You wonder if Ghost had managed to scare him, too. Although afraid or not, he leans against the table you're sitting behind. He glances at the puzzle game open on your laptop screen, then looks at you.

"So, why 'Jailbait'?"

"Slang terms like 'jailbait' are hard to find an equivalent to in other languages. Especially if the languages are from different language families. 'Jailbait' is Germanic, I'm more comfortable speaking Uralic."

"You're not American?" He seems surprised. You shake your head.

"No, I just spent an ungodly amount of time watching American cartoons as a child; I'm from mainland Europe. I thought the term 'jailbait' meant someone who looks younger than they are, and Simon won't stop making fun of me over it—it's been three years." You look up from your laptop, eyes narrowed at the people in the briefing room—Ghost, Price, Gaz, and others you don't recognize—then look towards Soap. "And Price likes enabling him. Thanks for embarrassing me in front of my boyfriend, dad."

Soap physically takes a double take and you raise a brow. "You—"

"I really didn't think military men are this gullible." You turn your office chair towards him and jab him gently in the shin. "No, we're not related, but I'd say he's a better father figure than my actual father; tells me he's proud of me and all. We lived in the same building for a short while."

Soap relaxes; like he's had the weight of the world taken off his shoulders. He tilts his head back, a low string of Scottish curses leaving his lips. Finally, he looks at you, a small grin on his face. "I see why he calls you a pain in the ass."

"That's the name of the game." You pull your chair closer to him, one leg slotting between his so you're close enough to talk without anybody overhearing. "You got any dirt on Simon or Price? I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

He thinks for a moment, then smiles. "Okay. Ghost thinks we don't know he likes listening to Lady Gaga."

"He sleeps on his back like vampires in those old movies. I have pictures."

"I need those pictures. Price once passed out on the couch after three beers while the rest of us were eating Christmas dinner."

"Price used to do positive affirmations in the morning."

"Ghost buys his underwear only on sale; said it was a good financial decision."

"He still does that. Oh, he's a total cat dad, even though my cat doesn't understand him 'cause I don't talk to her in English."

Ghost's voice drifts in front behind Soap. "I'm going to make that cat bilingual." Soap freezes, and immediately shakes it off. He glances at Ghost with a slight chuckle. Ghost tilts his head to the side. "You two look chummy."

"Trading secrets; y'know, the usual." You nod at him, taking in the tactical gear, the weapons holstered on his body, the new mask. "Betcha gotta fight off the ladies with a stick looking like that. What's up?"

"We're heading out, should be back by tomorrow. Johnny, I'm leaving them in your care." He talks like he's handing over the most important mission. Maybe you should start compiling the differences between Ghost and Simon. "You," he flicks his fingers against your forehead, and you frown, placing your cool fingers over the place he flicked, "don't bully him, and take your medication and your vitamins."

"I don't need my antidepressants as long as I can look at your ass." You roll the office chair slightly to the side to catch the curve of Ghost's ass. "Tactical asscheeks—I'm feeling better already."

Ghost makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat and you grin. You reach into your hoodie pocket and pull out your pill organizer, dramatically flipping open today's empty pocket. The remaining pills rattle when you shake it.

"Hey, Si," you begin, fitting the pill organizer back into your hoodie pocket, "what sound does a sleeping T-Rex make?"

"Copy. Behave."

"Me? Always."

He's gone quickly after that. Life continues on around you. So, you push the worry to the back of your mind, tuck it away somewhere you might forget about it. Soap is sitting next to you and you turn your laptop slightly to give him a view of the show on your screen.

"I'm surprised he didn't answer your joke; he's the king of shitty jokes," he says in the middle of the opening credits.

"He's not supposed to; he's gotta come home to hear the answer."

Suddenly, Soap understands.

You don't race to greet him when he returns.

And then he gets word that someone drove you and Soap to a nearby pub. And forgot you there.

He's suddenly invigorated from the draining mission by cold fury in his veins.

Price intercepts before Ghost can verbally eviscerate the person who drove you, pulls him away by the shoulder and wraps his fingers around a car key.

The drive is silent until they pull up to the supposed pub you're at. Ghost slams the car door shut with more force than necessary and Price doesn't bother saying anything.

The insides are dimly lit, the scent of alcohol sharp in the air. There's a rowdy group in the corner, a cake in the middle of the table. Ghost doesn't immediately spot you anywhere in the pub and it's got his heart racing, chest tight, because fuck, you're supposed to be here and every scenario of what if starts flooding into his mind like a violent torrent of water.

"Simon!" His head snaps up when he hears his name in your voice and you're emerging from the crowd of people with a bright smile. You throw your arms around his neck and he wraps his arms so tightly around you that you wheeze. His grip relaxes slightly. Price walks past him, towards Soap who's emerging from the same crowd, drunk. He almost stumbles over a loose floorboard.

"You having a party?" Ghost asks you and you giggle. He brings one hand to rest on the back of your neck as you pull away, his thumb stroking your jawline.

"We were gonna have a drinking competition but those guys asked if we wanted to celebrate with them 'cause someone didn't come and they didn't wanna waste the drinks." You point towards the group and Simon realizes they're all young women, about your age. They wave and you return the gesture with a gleeful giggle. "Think they asked 'cause they like Soap."

"Well, wave your new friends goodbye, we're leaving."

Ghost lets you go and watches you hurry back to the group of young women. They seem saddened at your departure, taking turns hugging you and shouting their goodbyes to you and Soap as you leave. Ghost helps guide you into the car, hand on your head as you duck to climb in and he buckles you up. You want to protest, tell him you're not five and can do it yourself, but he moves with such efficiency that you bite your tongue.

The drive is silent. You fiddle with the car radio but can't find a station signal. It's frustrating and in the end, you just leave it, white noise and all. Ghost turns it off.

"Fuckin' shitty thing," you mutter under your breath. "Hate this. Fucking hate Freud—why the fuck is he the father of modern psychology? He was a fucking pussy ass bitch who made really good points in his early work but then backpedaled and went 'oh well, actually, every male child sees their father as competition and every female child sees their mother as competition because they both have the desire to copulate with the parent of opposite sex', like what the fuck, dude? His patients had literally been abused as children and he gaslit the shit out of them and I'm supposed to hail this piece of shit turd as the end all be all? No, fuck that."

You pause to take a breath, already gearing up the rest of your rant, and Ghost speaks up.

"What's the name of that one show with the big robots?"

There's a momentary silence as you turn to stare at him. "Evangelion?"

"The one with the kid who cries a lot." He presses his thigh against the steering wheel and opens the bottle of water in the cup holder. He passes it to you.

"Evangelion." You take a sip of water.

"What's the plot about?"

"Do you want it chronologically or the way the anime put it? Fuck that, you're getting chronology. Shut up, listen—"

Price is almost in awe at the way Ghost has managed to de-escalate your rant. He recalls the one and only time he's seen you drunk like this, crying in the apartment building elevator, shaky breaths and choked sobs between cussing out the self-service checkout in the grocery store down the street. He hadn't known what to do, how to make you feel better, so he'd ended up sitting on the cold tiled floor of the hallway with you, not catching half of what you'd said, but still listening.

Now he's here, years later, listening to you prattle about hundred-meter-tall angels and robots piloted by children and whatever else, with someone who's successfully managed to defuse your breakdown-inducing drunken rant. And Ghost is listening intently, interjecting with a question every now and then.

Your arrival at base gets a few stares from others. They're easily swayed by Ghost's venomous look in their direction, all of them turning back to what they'd just been doing. Price grabs Soap and bids you goodnight.

Simon exhales a heavy breath when the two of you are finally in your (temporarily) shared room. The door clicks locked behind him and he tugs his balaclava off. You're still talking, wildly gesturing, but you've switched languages three times now and Simon has lost any thread of plot he'd understood.

He sinks down onto his bed with a tired sigh, head tilted back, eyes closed to allow himself this one moment of peace, one last pause before he can pass out next to you. He hears you stop in front of him, hands cradling his cheeks.

"Please kiss me, Simon." Your voice is a whisper into the cool air, hands dipping down the columns on his neck.

"You're so needy," he rasps, large hands now on your waist, pushing under your shirt. You're so warm and you startle when his cold hands make contact with your skin. You nod then, a small 'uh-huh' said under your breath, fingers tapping nonsensical patterns against his shoulder.

Either that or you suck at morse code.

Simon helps you shimmy out of your jacket and shirt, his fingers hooking behind your bra clasp.

Simon Riley is all jagged edges and scars, rough hands dripping with blood. So much blood—there's not enough water in the world to wash it all off. Sometimes he can't get the taste out of his mouth. He moves with the precision of a killer, tries to make no unnecessary movements, nothing that would threaten to compromise the mission.

You—you're soft. There's a glimmer in your eyes when you call out his name or see a dog on the street, a flower blooming between the cracked pavement of a sidewalk. Your hands cradle his face gently to place a kiss on his lips, like he's made of glass and any force you might exert when you touch him will make him shatter. You don't keep an umbrella on you, but a coral pink raincoat, tucked into the bottom of the bag you go to university with, right next to your apartment kets clipped to a plush raccoon.

You take hour-long showers twice a week just to focus on hair care.

What the fuck, you had said when you'd found out he showers in three minutes. The water doesn't even heat up properly in three minutes, you'd said. Simon had only shrugged.

His hot mouth trails down your neck, your collarbones, chest, all open-mouthed kisses. Wet tongue flicks your nipple and even your moans are soft. The breath that escapes you when he repeats his action is a soft exhale. Soft, soft, soft, too soft for him, too good for him—he's a seasoned killer, the shadow that goes bump in the night and grabs grown men from the back, a knife to the jugular as his departing gift.

The scent of your strawberry body kit washes away the scent of iron in blood.

"Stop teasing."

"You're drunk," he says, low murmur against your skin, reverberating into the hollow of your chest.

"'M not." You run your fingers through his blond hair, nails raking against his scalp. It's just barely long enough for you to grab a handful and tug and it elicits a breathy moan from him, forces the tension out of his neck and he leans further into you, hands on your hips.

More, just one more moment of solace, and then Simon is grabbing a t-shirt and pulling it over your head. He's a solid rock, unmoving as you use him as a point of leverage to peel your jeans off. He helps you into your yellow sleeping shorts, tightens the white drawstrings, and knots them.

His eyes fall on the faint marks on your thighs, most of them already healed. There's one, though, darker than the others that's still having trouble fading. He leans down, presses a gentle kiss against that one.

"Tease," you grumble. "Pain in my ass."

And he laughs, tired and suddenly in pain again, ribs aching from a blow he took to his bulletproof vest. He smacks your thigh and you tell him something not-so-nice in a language he doesn't understand as you climb past him to get to your cot.

By the time Simon has shrugged off his own clothes, neatly folded and placed where they usually are, you're mumbling incoherently, fading fast. The corners of his mouth curl up slightly. You reach for him and he takes your hand, fingers lacing together. He's careful as he lowers himself onto the cot that sometimes screeches and groans.

"Hey, Si," you mumble, "what sounds does a sleeping T-Rex make?" Even half-asleep, you pause for dramatic effect. "A dino-snore."

"Good one."

He pulls you close, close as he can, and presses a kiss onto your forehead.

bonus: When Ghost comes back from his run the next morning, he finds Soap in your (temporarily) shared room, sitting on your cot as you explain the lore of Evangelion to him. You have charts.

[deathblacksmoke]

Dramamine—Part 4

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Nick Ruffilo

Series Summary: Cynical, brooding bartender Nick meets too-earnest, pretty boy singer Noah when The Rabbit's Foot starts hosting an open mic night.

CW: angst, hints at past trauma, Noah being pushy and kind of annoying and not taking the fucking hint, mention of death

*Content warnings will be updated by chapter*

Word Count: 1.5K

Taglist: @concretenoah / @ladyveronikawrites / @circle-with-me / @darksigns-exe / @xxrainstorm / @monotoniscreaming / @agravemisstake / @iknownothingpeople / @cookiesupplier / @jiizzy / @bngurngheart

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future fics!

Author's Note: I'm finally back on track with my updates yay 🤍 POV switches to Noah in this one. Next part will be an interlude. Hope y'all enjoy <3

dividers by @cafekitsune 💐

NOAH’S POV

It’s been 6 days since Noah last spoke to Nick. It’s been 6 days since, mid-hookup, Nick stormed out of Noah’s apartment abruptly and without an explanation.

At least he said he was sorry before he slammed Noah’s door, shaking the room and extending the crack above the door frame. Even so, Noah can’t keep himself from replaying the night in his head, trying to figure out what went wrong. Was it him? What had he done? How does he fix it?

He tried texting him, but when enough texts went unanswered, he decided to cut his losses. He can leave Nick alone if that’s what he wants.

It’s only been a few weeks since they met, but the thought of not having Nick around turns his stomach. He had cracked what seemed to be an impossibly tough exterior, and he thought they were both having fun. He thought Nick liked him too, but just as soon as he was in Noah’s life, he was gone.

His absence aches, leaving something painful and hollow in Noah’s gut. Nick’s tea mug had been left untouched on the coffee table for days—Noah couldn’t quite bring himself to move it to the kitchen and rinse it out. He’d love to say it didn’t have an effect on him when he came home from work to find it had been washed and placed back in the cabinet, but his heart sank.

He changes his mind. If Nick wants to be left alone, he’ll have to tell Noah as much or block him.

Please Nicky, I just want to know if you’re okay.

The text goes unanswered again. He doesn’t know what he expected.

The thought of going to The Rabbit’s Foot to have Nick ignore him straight to his face doesn’t sound appealing to him at all, but he doesn’t want to let himself be pushed out. With or without the promise of seeing Nick at the end of the night, he’s loved doing the open mic nights.

He doesn’t want to let Nick stop him. Against his better judgment, he hopes that after he plays, he’ll be able to pull Nick aside for a talk. It’s wishful thinking, but it’s the same wishful thinking that’s kept him going for this past week. Goddammit, he barely even knows Nick, but he feels like he’s flailing not knowing what’s going on with him. He really did mean it when he said he just wants to know if he’s okay.

When he steps through the door, he sees something he hasn’t seen once in the weeks he’s been coming here. His stomach drops. Behind the bar, there’s no Nick. There’s Jolly and there’s the bouncing barback and there’s some guy he doesn’t recognize, pouring Guinness more shamefully than he’s ever seen. Nick would hate seeing that, but Nick isn’t here.

Noah wonders if it’s his fault but pushes the thought away, can’t allow himself to get caught up in it. He can’t let himself spiral out about it. He just had really hoped Nick would be here, if only so he would know that he’s okay.

It’s agony.

“Hey, you’re up there next,” he’s taken out of his thoughts when Jolly sneaks up on him, a strong hand on his shoulder.

He wants nothing more than to ask about Nick. Second to that, he wants to get the fuck out of this bar and never come back to The Rabbit’s Foot again.

“Thanks, man,” he says instead.

He wants to go home, but he won’t. He’ll go up there, he’ll introduce himself, he’ll sing his song. He’ll pretend he’s not being torn up by Nick’s nagging absence.

Because the thing is, once Noah starts playing, it becomes clear to him how much he’s grown to rely on Nick’s presence here. He’s become dependent on Nick’s bright blue-grey eyes burrowing into his fucking skull, how the focus he places on not getting distracted has made him better. He remembers all the chords he had fucked up or missed altogether that first night, when Nick stormed out for whatever reason it was. He didn’t ask. He’s noticing himself missing them now—his voice is cracking. He feels humiliated. He wishes Nick was here. Nick should be here.

He just has to make it through the song.

There’s no blame for how our love did slowly fade And now that it’s gone, it’s like it wasn’t there at all And here I rest, where disappointment and regret Collide Lying awake at night

Blinking back his tears, it’s clear he picked the wrong one.

It takes all of his resolve not to bolt out the door when he’s done, but he’s feeling brave. More so, he’s feeling like if he doesn’t get an explanation soon, he’ll lose his mind.

His nerves spike as he approaches the bar, especially as the barback spots him and fails to hide the narrowing of his eyes. He wonders what he knows. He wonders what Nick told him.

“Hey, um—” Noah starts when he’s in front of the bar, ignoring the other bartender completely. The barback looks at him expectantly, a little irritated, and it makes him feel uneasy. “I’m sorry, I never caught your name.”

“I’m Nick,” he answers, and Noah has to stop himself from laughing as he raises an eyebrow. “Folio. You get Yuengling, right?”

“I do, but I wanted to ask you about something, actually.”

He’s suddenly more nervous than ever, as Folio fixes him with a look of disgust. He wishes he’d never come here tonight, and especially that he never came up to the bar. But he’s come this far, and he’ll keep going, even as upset as he feels that maybe Folio knows something about him that he doesn’t.

“If you’re looking for Nick, no one has seen him since he took you home last week,” Folio tells him, and a shiver runs down Noah’s spine. It’s worse than he thought. “I don’t know what you did, but no one can get more than a ‘no’ from him when we ask about work or if he’s okay.”

He wants to say that he didn’t do anything wrong and then leave. He feels tears welling up and threatening to fall, and he feels mortified. But he really needs to find out what’s going on. He hates thinking that he involuntarily, maybe, ruined Nick’s life.

He sticks with the exact truth, instead. He sticks with oversharing to a stranger. He tells Folio fucking everything.

“Does he not like guys, or—” Noah starts to ask. He’s horrified to even bring it up. He finds the whole ordeal mortifying enough. “I just can’t figure out where I went wrong.” 

“Honestly, Noah, I was surprised you made it as far as you did with him,” Jolly interjects. Noah had no idea he’d been listening in and his cheeks heat. “He hasn’t really liked anyone or anything for years. Not since Jazz.”

He wonders if Jolly should be telling him this. He almost regrets asking, but he needs to know who Jazz is and what happened to make him like this. He needs to know why everything went from fine to disastrous in the blink of an eye.

“What happened with Jazz?” he asks, and Jolly’s shaking his head as soon as he’s done asking.

“Not for me to tell you. You’ll have to ask Nick.”

But he can’t ask Nick. Nick won’t respond to his fucking texts, but he’s always been persuasive. He leaves the bar with Nick’s address scrawled on a bar napkin, and he feels like a stalker. Maybe he kind of is, but he feels more hopeful than he has in a week.

Nick looks like a wreck when he pulls the door open. Noah peers past him into the apartment, and it’s even worse. He doubts he’s gone outside since the moment he stepped foot back in, and he doubts he’s slept much either, if he goes off the deep blue circles beneath his eyes. 

“What are you doing here, Noah?” Nick asks, sounding exhausted. He expected anger or distaste when he showed up at Nick’s door unannounced, but he never could have anticipated the look and sound of defeat he’s met with instead.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay. No one’s heard from you and—” Noah starts saying, but decides to get on with it instead. He figures the best way to get his answer is to cut to the chase. “Jolly and Folio told me about Jazz.”

“They wouldn’t have.” Nick says, rolling his eyes. He’s right enough.

“So you got dumped, Nick—”

He stops before he can say the rest, because Nick growls in a way that scares him a little, makes him feel fucking ill. When Noah meets his eyes, there’s a fiery anger that, even from one of the grouchiest people he’s ever met, shocks him. He half expects the door to be slammed in his face.

“Oh, they really didn’t tell you shit,” Nick starts. This is where the disgust Noah was expecting was hiding. “Jasmine is fucking dead, Noah.”

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

Chapter 29.

i scanned the restaurant for the raven haired boy i adored. whenever my eyes landed on him, my heart skipped a beat. he stared down at his phone while he awaited our arrival. i led my parents to the table, climbing in next to johnnie as my parents sat across from us.

my mom gave him a fake ass smile and stuck out her hand. "Hi, i'm y/m/n."

johnnie took it with a sincere smile on his face, shaking it gently. "johnnie. it's nice to meet you."

my mom had a glare in her eyes as she silently judged his tattoos, piercings, and makeup. i was relieved to see that johnnie wasn't too scared not to go in makeup or anything but what he usually wears. i smiled softly as i stared at him, admiring his calm attitude.

my dad seemed much more genuine as he shook johnnies hand. "i'm y/f/n, it's great to meet you, man."

"i think you have a brave style choice," my mom glared towards me, giving me the stink eye before making eye contact with him again. i took johnnies hand from under the table and held onto it like my life depended on it. "How long have you been dressing like this."

"Since i was around 14," he answered confidently, "i guess it just kind of stuck with me all these years."

my parents began talking amongst themselves before we got to order our drinks and food. johnnie quietly filled me in on how his morning went, simultaneously comforting me. his voice was soft and sweet, just above a whisper, so only I could hear him.

whenever drinks arrived at the table, my mother turned back to johnnie. "What's your current occupation?"

johnnie stuttered, "I'm a youtuber."

"Wow, does that make good money for you?" My father seemed somewhat interested.

"Actually, yeah. I'm pretty big on YouTube, and it pays really well." johnnie stayed respectful with his words, but I could tell he was being extremely cautious.

"That's good to hear. so, I heard you two live together, is that right?" My mom interrupted. johnnie nodded in response. "How's that working?"

it seemed as if my mother was trying to find all of the little cracks and holes in our relationship, as if she was digging for where our relationship could go wrong.

"It's working really well, we haven't had any issues so far." he took a sip of his drink.

my mom looked slightly annoyed by how well this was going.

despite her acting off, the rest of the brunch went smoothly. johnnie and my dad had a conversation about what he wants in the future. johnnie expressed that he does, in fact, want a family at some point, which made my dad's face light up. meanwhile, my mother stayed silent.

after me and johnnie had paid the bill for all 4 of us, Johnnie rode with us back to the hotel. I dropped my parents off and drove back home with johnnie in the passenger seat.

"that was fucking scary. it seemed like your mom had something against me." he laughed nervously.

"she has something against everyone. I think she's just mad cause I'm actually happy or something along those lines. my dad seems a lot better, though." I explained, waving my hand around as I spoke. "i can tell my dad likes you."

he smiled softly at my comment. "well, at least your dad fucking likes me. maybe i'm just not cool enough for your mom."

"well, i think you're too cool for my mom." i teased him.

johnnie took my hand and squeezed it. "did they say anything about your tattoos?"

i laughed nervously. "i didn't show them. my mom was already being weird. i might show my dad later, though."

about 15 minutes later we made it back to the house. i crawled into our bed and went on my phone while johnnie decided to hop on and stream. he decided to go on his stream and play a highly requested game, Poppy Playtime 3. about an hour later, i went to sit next to him and join the stream, which made the chat go wild. i got to speak to the chat for a little longer before he decided to save the game where he was at and end the stream. he then joined me in the bed and we cuddled and watched movies for the rest of the day. with the eventful morning, i was glad to spend the rest of the day with johnnie.

[broke-art]

Red Son x hostage reader

"Not eating will only make you weaker, peasant girl." Red Son challenged folding his arms.

You turned away stubbornly. For all you knew he had poisoned the food. And it didn't matter anyway. You'd missed meals before.

"You've got to be kidding me. This is the third meal you've refused. You're going to kill yourself."

You shot him a cold glare over your shoulder then turned away once again.

"Atleast answer me, dang it!"

You refused to even turn this time. Red Son had kidnapped you, to lure your cousin Mei and your mutual friend M.k into a trap.

Yet, Something was odd about it. From what you could tell, he hadn't sent a ransom to your father or, far more likely, your uncle. And he was being rather generous. Fretting over your refusal to eat being only one of the many oddities at play.

Still, you held your tongue. Hoping perhaps your silence would urge him to give you some type of understanding as to why he had taken you.

Mei had been right there! Her father was far wealthier, M.k and her were closer, and you and Tang had a running bet to see when Red Son would finally tell Mei he had a crush on her. So why take you?

"Fine!" Red son snapped suddenly.

His outburst made you flinch slightly.

"You sit here and be stubborn. I am going to handle that nuisance of a 'hero'."

Red son slammed the door behind him with a growl and marched to his room. Slamming his door with just as much force, he glared at it a moment before he deflated.

This was not the way to get into y/n's good graces. And yet he couldn't find any better ideas. And that wretched Noodle boy was supposed to have come for her by now! And he hadn't. Had he miscalculated?

No. The noodle boy was too 'heroic' to simply leave y/n to any villain's mercy. Although heaven knew 'mercy' she would hardly require from him. A simple smile would crack his resolve.

Red son groaned burying his face in his hands. His mother had been right. He was like his father. Soft for his intended.

But y/n wasn't his intended. Atleast not anymore. Red son's mind wandered back to the day he learned of his betrothal and this whole situation has escalated out of control.

"My what?! M-mother, you can't be serious." Red son stammered following Princess Iron Fan to the dining table.

"I'm perfectly serious, Red son." Princess Iron fan responded cooly taking her designated seat. "You know very well my options were, at best, limited after your father was taken from us." She explained massaging her brow. "A betrothal seemed....promising to your future. And the family was a close friend of your father and I. When they had a daughter.... Well the timing was almost perfect."

Red son took his seat mutely a concerned frown tugging at his lips.

"And when you two became friends in your early childhood, I thought perhaps it could blossom into...more." Princess Iron fan shot him a knowing look.

Red Son's cheeks burned and he stiffened in his seat.

"Mother....you don't mean-"

Princess Iron Fan nodded.

"I mean y/n l/n. She seemed a good match for you. Don't think I didn't notice how often you attempted to impress her." Princess Iron Fan's lips curled up into a smirk on one side.

Red son flinched slightly in his seat.

"That was a long time ago, mother!"

Her smirk fell with the reminder and Red Son felt a pinch of guilt as she nodded.

"Well yes...it was. And now that you are old enough, and you have brought your father back to us-" A small gleam of pride shone in her eyes, causing Red Son to sit a little straighter. "I see no reason to hold you to the agreement."

Relief flooded Red Son's chest. And he sighed.

"However,"

His relief was cut short with that one simple word.

"We demons have contracts, Red Son. Betrothals between us are... Not easily broken. Fortunately, I instated a clause that would allow you to break the betrothal on the condition you inform the intended and her family yourself."

Red son's shoulders eased some. That wouldn't be too difficult. Right? They were friends of his parents after all. Of course they would be understanding. And y/n....well he hadn't seen her in years. Surely, his little crush was long gone.

"Of course, mother." Red son nodded. "I'll see to it first thing in the morning."

Princess Iron Fan nodded.

"Good."

Once his father returned, they ate together and discussed where Red Son could find the l/n family. His mother also informed them that y/n's mother had passed away. And her father was, somewhat less popular with his parents. Particular his father. Still, this hardly worried Red Son. Anyone, who defied his family fell sooner or later. With the exception of the Monkey King and the noodle boy, but that was due to come before long he was sure.

The next day Red Son followed the map his mother had created to guide him and came to a moderately large mansion's gate. With a sigh he went to touch the buzzer when he heard a scream from the courtyard.

His interest, and slight concern, piqued Red Son walked around the walled perimeter and climbed the stone when he came to the scene where he believed the scream resonated from. Once he reached the top he kept low and watched a young girl take a brutal hit to the gut and hit the ground.

"Father please!" She pleaded. "Listen, she didn't mean t-" A vicious kick to her side threw the girl closer to Red Son. This gave him a proper view of a crimson liquid spilling from her gut where one of her arms hugged the wound tightly.

Her h/c (hair color) hair spilled over her face even while her e/c (eye color) eyes stared at her father pleadingly.

The sight ignited something odd inside him. As though someone had ignited a long forgotten fireplace.

"I don't care what she meant!" The father spat. His movements staggered and off kilter.

The sight informed Red Son the man was indeed drunk.

"This is my home. And as long as you live under my roof, you will follow my judgement!"

With that the man threw a bottle Red Son hadn't noticed till that moment at the girl. His nerves jerked but thankfully her father's aim was lacking. As the bottle smashed against a tree a good distance to her left.

The man turned on his heel and stomped back into the house and Red Son felt tempted to follow, but what he heard next made him freeze.

Soft crying twisted his gut as he watched y/n picked herself up and went back into the house.

Red Son sat for a moment his mind going over the possible solutions to this....predicament. Slowly, he slid off the wall and walked back towards the forge a plan formulating in his mind.

He watched her then for a few weeks and learned beatings were common in the l/n household. And y/n hadn't changed much. She was still the kind and hopeful yet spunky and sassy girl he'd known all those years ago.

There was only one major issue. Y/n wholeheartedly believed her father had her best interest at heart. Each time he followed her to her hangouts with the dragon horse girl she would go on and on about how her father was endlessly patient, always apologized, and never held her many faults against her.

The realization came quickly after that, her father was as manipulative as he was abusive. And he had manipulated her into believing he of all people was her hero. And Red Son fully intended to shatter that façade.

A knock on the door woke him from his reverie. Red Son lifted his head as a bull clone entered and informed him that the girl was becoming 'difficult'. With a sigh Red Son got to a stand and followed the bull clone to the holding cell.

He was going to get you away from that tyrant permanently, but he couldn't do that if the plan didn't play out accordingly.

You threw a bull clone by flipping him over your shoulder and dodged another that lunged at you. Then you raced towards the door to what you assumed was the dining room only to run smack into Red Son's chest.

He grabbed you quickly and pinned you against the wall.

"How did she get out of her cell?!" Her demanded looking at the nearest bull clone whilst you writhed against his hold. "Picked the lock?! WITH WHAT?!" The way his voice cracked made you pause then laugh a bit.

The sound made him pause then glare at you.

"You think this is funny, peasant girl?!"

You smirked.

"Well not the situation per se, just your reaction."

His hair exploded into flame and if you weren't mistaken you could have swore you saw his cheeks twinge pink before he shoved you at a bull clone.

"Ugh return her to her cell. Now!" He nearly yelled before stomping away.

Another bull clone grabbed your right arm whilst the one Red Son had shoved you at grabbed your left. You struggled against them watching Red Son's retreating form.

"I will get out again!" You shouted after him. "And my friends will come for me."

"Oh trust me-" Red Son's voice made you pause your struggles. "I'm counting on it."

The bull clones locked you back in your cell and you huffed. What on earth was that supposed to mean?! You guessed it didn't matter, what did matter was you getting out of here and warning your friends and cousin Mei.

Red Son stalked down the hall muttering to himself about stupid peasant girls and tardy fools. That was until his foot pressed against a small metallic chain.

Taking a step back, Red Son inspected a small silver locket on the floor. Immediately memories assaulted him.

"I made it for you." Red son said offering it to the y/n with an annoyed frown.

"H-how?" She stammered in awe taking the locket gently.

Red Son rolled his eyes.

"In my forge of course." He paused as tears welled in her eyes.

"You...really are going away for training aren't you?" She whispered turning her tear-filled gaze on him.

Red son felt his gut twist.

"Well...yes. Mother insisted but-" he sighed. "I couldn't leave without giving you a reminder that should you ever need me, I'm not far."

Y/n hugged him then. Causing him to stumble back from shock.

The memory gave way to the present as he inspected the demon bull family crest in the center surrounded but a mural of flames.

He released a low huff. The locket was an amateur's work. It would be far more suiting to give her a new one, but something told him this version held sentimental value. The only real issue was, as he moved it he realized the front part and back of the locket had snapped on two.

With a small frown he changed direction. Heading towards his forge now.

Meanwhile you meddled with the lock on the cell door using a bobby pin. It was shockingly easy the last time. You didn't really recall where the catch mechanism was this time round. Which made the task somewhat more difficult.

Just as you thought you found it the door to the outer room began to open.

With a gasp you snatched the bobby pin and shoved it back into your pocket.

Just then Red Son entered with his hands folded behind his back.

"Evening y/n."

"Red son." You responded boredly as though you hadn't just been picking the lock.

He stepped into the room and leaned against the bars with an arm.

"It appears you're missing something."

You leaned away feeling butterflies flutter in your chest.

Just then he opened his other hand revealing your locket in his palm.

You gasped and froze.

But he simply slid his hand between the bars with an annoyed look.

"Take better care of your belongings, peasant girl. I will not return it again."

You took it and stared at the silver reflection as Red Son turned. But you hardly noticed him leaving.

This locket had been given to you by your best childhood friend. You hadn't even noticed the resemblance until now. But you mind fled back to that day when he had given it to you.

You didn't remember the boy's name only a fuzzy blur of a red overcoat. Your jaw fell as you caught a glimpse of Red Son's over coat wafting behind him before the door to the outer room slammed shut.

[countrymusiclover]

10 - Erik and JFK

Part 11

Battle of Heart and Mind

Tag list - ask to be added (in my ask box please) @aintinacage @hiraethrhapsody @mostlymarvelgirl @importantgalaxyrunaway

Leaving from the place I was moments ago I heard the three make voices now in the office downstairs. Entering the room Hank stood by the desk, Logan remained near the doorway and Charles was laying on the couch drink in his hands. “We need your help, Charles.”

“Need his help how exactly?” I came and sat down beside him on the couch seeing him finish what content he had in that glass.

Logan turns his head to me. “Bring the X-Men together. Stop Raven from killing Trask which starts the war.”

“So you’re saying they took her power and what…weaponized it?” Charles got up from the couch pouring himself another drink.

Logan nodded. “Yup.”

Charles plopped down in his desk chair downing some alcohol. His demeanor and physical appearance wasn't what I recalled it to be. Hank and I had tried our best to pull him out of the dark but he's just fallen over the edge now. "Now what exactly does Raven and Addi have to do with all this...saying that I...that we choose to believe what you are saying is true."

"In the beginning, the sentinels were just targeting mutants. Then they began targeting everyone. They began identifying the genetics in non-mutants...who would eventually have mutant children and grandchildren. Many of the humans tried to help us but it was a slaughter. Leaving only the worst of humanity in charge. I've been in a lot of wars but I've never seen anything like this. And it all starts with her and Raven." Logan began explaining looking between the three of us where I could see his whole body stiften at the horrible memories he must have been having.

“Raven won't listen to me.” Charles chuckled dryly looking over in my direction thinking back on Cuba. “Her heart and soul belong to someone else now.”

Logan put a hand on his hip throwing his other hand away from his side. “I know. That's why we're gonna need Magneto too.”

“Erik, you know where he is right?” Hank asked the man from the future who said nothing.

Charles got up from the chair stomping around the table and out the door. “He's where he belongs!”

“Charles!” I called his name forcing myself to my feet regaining my balance for a moment.

Logan tilted his head. “What the hell happened to him? Am I going crazy or are you two together or something?”

“We were…until the day I found out I was pregnant.” Looking over my shoulder I explained softly. “The war in Vietnam destroyed everything. Teachers and students were drafted. Hank attempted to help with his legs but…I'm gonna go find him. Charles!”

Moving towards his bedroom he had the door only cracked open slightly. Pushing it opened he lifted his head up sniffing through tears. “Charles, can we talk?”

“What do you still see in that man, Addi?” He sniffed through tears, wiping them away with his sleeve.

Coming to sit on the edge of the bed with the former telepath professor I laid my head on his shoulder. “Because of what he did the day JFK was assassinated. The part of the story you choose to forget.”

“He's not right for you or the baby, Addi.” Charles weakly responded, reaching down, intertwining my hand in his. “I just don't want you to get hurt. Even if you never truly love me the way I love you. I still want to keep you safe.”

Touching his face with my freehand he leans into my palm. “I know how you feel about him after what happened in Cuba. But this means helping Raven…and apparently saving humanity and mutants from an all out war. If you won’t do it for Logan’s tall tail then do it for Raven…do it for me.”

“I'll do it for the both of you.” He whispered, laying his head against my chest and I kissed his forehead just holding him for a moment. The relationship that Charles and I had was comfortable for sure. He was there for me throughout the pregnancy and with my mother. I did love him but it would never compare to my feelings for Erik.

November 22, 1963 - Dallas

Erik and I made our way through the abandoned building that was on the same street that the president was supposed to be driving down since he was visiting for something. Erik peaked his head out the window with me leaning against the wall beside where he stood. “I got word that the assassin is somewhere in this building with a gun. I can feel it somewhere.”

“Do you want me to go looking for it?” I questioned him, figuring that I should help him in some way.

He shook his head no, focusing his attention back towards the busy street. The president’s car came around the corner following the secret service cars that were behind it and in front of them. A gunfire sound blasted through the air where Erik raised his hand about to stop the bullet but the door downstairs got busted open. “Search the entire building!”

“Erik.” I called his name while watching the commotion from the streets below us. The bullet that had been fired hit the president in the back of the head and his wife reached back trying to help but he was already dead. Everyone in the cars and on the streets surrounded the car and I knew the men in the building must be service men.

He moved away from the wall grabbing me by my shoulders with a serious look in his eyes. “You have to go now before they find me up here.”

“Are you crazy? I am not leaving you here to be captured. How could you even consider such a thing?” I spat at him wearing a dark orange coat with some black jeans and combat boots. I had put my hair in a braid.

He was wearing a green turtleneck underneath a brown coat. His gaze remained on mine and I felt him pressing his fingers into my shoulder blades. “Addison, this isn’t a joke. Those men are looking for the man who just killed the president and they most likely will blame it on me if they can’t find the guy who actually fired the shot.”

“So we run and get out of here before they do. We stick together like we promised.” I snapped at him not wanting to leave him here like this.

He threw his head back, sighing in frustration where we heard a bunch of boots coming up the stairs meaning we were running out of time if we were going to run like I wanted him to. “We don’t have time to discuss this, Addi. I can’t let them capture you too.”

“So what am I supposed to do while you’re stuck in the pentagon…besides coming to visit you if that’s even possible.” I asked, gripping the material of his jacket almost closing the gap completely between us.

Erik pressed his forehead against mine and we just stood holding onto each other till he whispered. “You go see your mother or go find Charles. I need you to promise me.”

“There’s voices upstairs!” One of the men downstairs said to his fellow men and they started to be heard coming up onto the floor we were on.

Erik turned his head back, pouring his attention down to me. “Promise me, Addi.”

“I promise….and I love you.” I blurted out having the elevator door opened and the men started running towards us.

Erik grabbed my arm and we ran towards the old staircase that we had used to get up here. He holds my face in his hands, kissing me quickly. “Don’t get caught while I’m gone, Addison.” He rounded the corner holding his hands up in surrender while I peaked my head around the corner watching the officers arrest him on the spot.

“I'll help you get her.” Charles and I had left his bedroom seeing Logan was still talking with Hank. “But not for any of your future shits but for her.”

Logan nodded. “Fair enough.”

“Tell you this, you don't know Erik, that man is a monster, a murder. You think you can convince Raven to change, to come home.” Charles gave him a half smile. “But what makes you think you can change him?”

Logan admitted. “Because you and Erik sent me back here together.”

“The room they're holding him in was built during the...2nd World war when there was a shortage of steel. So the foundation is pure concrete and sand, no metal.” Hank had unrolled a map onto the large table in the library that revealed the inside layout of the pentagon from what he could find.

Charles rested his hands on the table. “And he's being held a 100 floors beneath the most heavily guarded building on the planet.”

Logan raised a brow. “Why is he in there?”

“What, he forgot to mention?” Charles couldn’t contain his laughter while I just stood back biting my tongue.

Hank said. “Uh JFK.”

Logan finally figured it out. “He killed.”

“What else would explain the bullet miraculously curving through the air.” Charles shakes his head glancing over at me silently for a moment knowing how I felt about what he had just said. “Erik's always had a way with guns.”

Leaning my back against the wall I rested one hand on my growing stomach looking between the three men in the room. “Never thought I'd say this but let's go break into the Pentagon.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[rebel-walnut]

Let's Do The Time Warp Again

Steddie Season 3 time travel fic, Part 4

Ao3, Pt. 1, Pt.2, Pt.3

"Tell me again."

Dustin is sitting in the corner booth of Scoops Ahoy wearing the dorkiest summer camp getup Eddie has ever seen. Steve is sitting across from him with Robin standing slightly off to the side, Eddie trailing farther back near the door where the sign is still flipped to closed. 

Steve has just finished giving Dustin the rough outline of hey I'm actually from a year in the future and so is that weird guy with the long hair and we're totally superly and utterly fucked and should probably get back so we can stop messing with the timeline, even though we were maybe about to die in our own timeline. Or something along those lines. This is the third time Dustin has asked Steve to explain it again.

Steve drags his hands down his face and clasps them under his chin, staring Dustin down. "I told you everything I know, man. We finished off Vecna, or at least I thought we did, I heard the bell chimes in 1986 and then the earth opened up and I woke up in 1895,"

Dustin scrunches up his nose. "Yeah I got that, but what specifically happened before you woke up?" 

Steve's face screws up into a look of total concentration before he spins in his seat to peer over the back of the booth at Eddie. "I… can't remember. Eddie, what do you remember before you woke up at the record store?" 

Eddie's hands automatically come to the phantom bites and tears at his sides as he pushes back the rising sense of fear that's latching in his throat.

"I remember dying. The bats all fell to the ground, but it was already too late for me. I remember Henderson came to me, and then I think it was you, Harrington," All eyes in the room are trained intently on Eddie as he pauses. He swallows.

"And then, I think those vines started opening. I'm pretty sure someone was carrying me, but the ground went all red like the gate in the trailer. I think I blacked out after that- pain or death I'm not sure- but then I was alive a year ago behind the counter of Hot Wax. Jury's still out whether it's a blessing or a curse."

Steve's mouth opens with a small gasp that's barely audible while his eyes light up in recognition. The weight of his awed stare is too much to handle, Eddie redirecting his gaze to the very interesting plain tile of the shop and toeing his sneaker at the cracks between them.

"I was the one carrying you when we fell into the gate."

Eddie's gaze snaps back up.

"What?" He says at the same time Dustin yells, "That's it!" While smacking his hands down on the table. 

"Wait, wait, wait," Steve's attention turns back to Eddie, "We fell through the gate together? And you were carrying me?" 

Steve nods, "Bridal style."

"'Bridal style,' Jesus H. Christ-" Of fucking course the one time Steve Harrington would ever be holding Eddie is when he's too dead to notice it- bridal style no less. 

"So that makes sense why you're here together then," Dustin adds, butting back into the conversation. "I just don't get why it sent you here though, I mean based on how those gates have worked in the past, you should have just popped out on the right side up. Definitely not a year ago and at a different location altogether."

Dustin is getting that look on his face that Eddie only sees during D&D combat, the face that says he's already analyzing every possible outcome and weighing every possible pro and con. "Do you think every gate has the ability to work that way or just the one you two fell through?" Dustin is staring expectantly at Steve and Eddie despite the fact that they have just as much information about the upside down as Dustin has. Actually-

"Time works differently in the upside down, remember? Wheeler's journal stopping when the Byers kid went missing?" Eddie's eyes are jumping between Steve and Dustin, both of them scrunching their noses then returning their gaze to the table in an honestly adorable mirror of each other. Robin, meanwhile, continues to stare at the three like they've lost their minds. 

"But why stop time when Will went missing?" Dustin directs this one towards Eddie with a slight hesitation that hits Eddie right in the chest- he keeps having to remind himself that this kid doesn't know him yet. Eddie steels himself with a hard swallow.

"Maybe he was the first thing from the outside world to get to the upside down," Steve's eyes lock into Eddie. "It's not a huge jump from stopping time to warping time, especially since those gates totally have some supernatural voodoo going on."

Robin steps forward from her place resting against an adjacent booth to lean in between Steve and Dustin, her knees not stilling their shake as she ducks her head conspiratorially. "So you losers are telling me-"

"Hey!" Dustin's screeching is apparently exactly the same in '86 as it was in '85.

"-that this hell-dimension not only exists, contains monsters -and mind controlling ones at that!- but can also manipulate time?" Robin's eyes grow impossibly larger as she stares between all three of them.

Eddie comes up behind the corner booth and drops his hands onto Steve's shoulders, the sudden weight causing a jolt up Steve's spine as he turns to meet Eddie's eyes. "Precisely, Miss Buckley. However, Harrington over here luckily has done this before. I suggest we use him to make a timeline of everything that happened so we know exactly what we're up against. Then we go back -or I guess, forward- in time and fix this shit," He shoots a winning grin at Steve before giving a quick squeeze to his shoulders and letting go. 

Steve looks away with a cough before stammering back at Robin, "Um- yeah, he's right. Grab the 'you suck' board," Robin squints her eyes as she looks between Steve and Eddie, slowly backing away from the booth to head to the back room. 

Eddie slides into the seat next to Steve, throwing an arm around him and jostling his shoulder in an overdramatic show of comfort. "Don't worry Harrington, we'll be back to our regularly scheduled deaths a year from now very shortly," Steve grimaces.

"Crazy, that's kind of what I'm worried about," Eddie squeezes his shoulder again as Robin returns with a whiteboard covered in tallies, all of them falling to one side under the title declaring 'YOU SUCK.' 

Robin catches his smirk, "It's to keep track of all the times Steve has failed to hit on women in the shop," Eddie's cackle gets Steve to fully turn to Robin.

"I'll have you know I'm a changed man, Robin."

"Oh yeah, Steve?" Dustin's shit eating grin is as bright as ever. "You got a girlfriend in '86 we don't know about?" Eddie's snort is all the confirmation Dustin needs to laugh in the face of Steve's love life. 

"If you count telling Wheeler about his '6 kids and a Winnebago' dream then maybe-" Eddie's laughter is stifled by Steve's sharp elbow in his ribs.

"You heard that?!" The horror in Steve's eyes is priceless.

"Hard to ignore your huge ass heart eyes when there's like eight of us crammed up in your suburban-wet-dream-mobile-" Steve clamps a hand over Eddie's mouth, fingers digging into the side of his cheek.

"Shut up," Steve says all low and probably unintentionally sultry, but Eddie sees the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. And oh man, it's taking everything Eddie has not to close his eyes and replay the last ten seconds under totally different circumstances. He's sure his cheeks are flushed to hell, but he can't tell if it's his own delusions or the heat that's painting Steve's cheeks a similar shade of pink.

The alarm on Steve's watch goes off, causing him to pull his hand back and stare at the small screen. "Shit, lunch rush."

Robin glances up through the window to the rest of the mall, then back at Steve. "We can't stay closed during lunch. Being a bit low on sales today is one thing, but Nate will definitely notice if there's nothing in the till," Steve nods, making a shooing motion at Eddie so he can leave the booth. Steve goes to unlock the door and flip the sign back to open, before throwing a considering look at Eddie.

"Don't you have a job you're supposed to be at now?" 

Eddie waves him off. "More pressing matters at play right now, don't you think?"

Steve's brow furrows in the way Eddie is becoming increasingly more familiar with. "Yeah, but we don't know how long we'll be stuck here for. Better to mess with things as little as possible in case there's bigger repercussions than we think," And that, well Eddie can't argue with actual logic and reasoning as much as he would like to.

"Fine, I'll go grovel to my manager about food poisoning or some shit," he brushes past Steve as he opens the door, triggering the small bell hanging from the frame. "Don't miss me too much, Harrington," Eddie gives him a small salute as he leaves, and if he leans in a bit too close to Steve's face to see if he blushes that beautiful shade of pink again (he does), that's nobody's business but his.

Thirteen minutes, a very cool yet annoyed manager named Sherrie, and an exceedingly long-winded story about how Eddie was 'just really going to shit my pants if I don't leave like right now, or maybe I'll vomit, or maybe both' later, Eddie was skipping back into the cool air of Scoops Ahoy. 

Steve and Robin were situated behind the counter at the front with Dustin still taking up the whole corner booth to himself, slinging ice cream for various ungrateful children and middle aged parents alike. A surprisingly long line has formed in the short time it took Eddie to lie to Sherrie's face, and as bad as he felt about it, seeing Steve goddamn Harrington twirl his ice cream scooper around and dole out charm left and right in those ridiculously short shorts made it all worth it.

Robin catches his eye as the bell announces his arrival, a Cheshire cat smile crawling across her features while she finishes serving a group of middle schoolers. Eddie's stomach drops as she shoots him a wink over her shoulder while she bustles into the back room, coming out only a moment later with the worst possible solution to their problems.

"We need Steve to write out the timeline, and I don't know if you noticed, but we also currently need two people scooping," Eddie blanches as her sly grin grows somehow wider. He catches Steve smirking while Robin shakes the fabric in her hand in Eddie's direction. 

"No, absolutely not," Eddie says while Steve meets his eyes through his lashes, face still turned down towards the freezer. Eddie stills just long enough for Robin to huck the folded set in his direction, smacking him in the face and falling into his hands. "Make Henderson do it."

"He's a child."

"So? What's a little child labor for the fate of the universe?" Steve snorts as he hands a cone into a greedy child's hands while Eddie thumbs the abrasive cloth in his hands. "I'll be ridiculed."

"Oh come on, if we can do it, so can you. Now get changed, Munson. Or should I say, sailor," Robin Buckley will be the death of him, Eddie's calling it right now. She comes around to lead him by the shoulders into the back room, leaving mock soothing pats along his arms.

"Oh- one more thing," She gives him one last shove into the back room before crossing her arms, "That's Steve's spare uniform, we each have one. Just so you know. Or, you can wear mine if you want…" 

Eddie's sure his cheeks are flushing for the millionth time today. He blubbers like a fish as he tries to meet Robin's knowing eyes before stammering out a quick, "No, this is fine."

Robin closes the door with a grin and a nod, leaving Eddie to slump down onto the dinky table. He thumbs over the garish blue and red fabric before he finds a small red and yellow embroidered patch that says 'Steve' across the chest with a small anchor on the edge. Fucking of course.

His head snaps up to the sound of the sliding window opening as Steve himself folds his arms across the ledge.

"One more thing for your uniform, and trust me, it's completely mandatory," The teasing lilt to Steve's voice causes Eddie's eyebrow to quirk up as he sets the uniform (costume) down next to him. In one swift motion, Steve swipes the sailor hat -that Eddie is just now noticing he put back on- off his head and tosses through the window, landing lightly in Eddie's palms.

"Welcome aboard, Munson," Steve says with a wink, sliding the window shut again and leaving Eddie with a terrible costume and a list of things to try not to think about.

_____

TAG LIST (reply to be added): @estrellami-1 @melodymeddler @songbird-garden @gregre369 @croatoan-like-its-hot @messrs-weasley @bestwifehaver @mediguro @goodolefashionedloverboi @huniiibee @rhyswritesreadsandcries @i-have-three-feelings @mightbeasleep @grtwdsmwhr @hirikka @starlight-archer @clumsiluni

[iheartpapipascal]

Dangerous Statement

Pairing: Jack Daniels x f!reader

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!!!

Summary: reader has bad sex the night before, so her roommate helps her out. Basically smut with a little plot beforehand and a tiny bit of fluff after (because I can't resist). Also, the reader isn't aware of Jack's occupation in this fic, just a heads-up.

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, nippleplay, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it up, yall), small praise kink, softdom!jack (blink and you'll miss it I'm serious), creampie, fluff, no use of Y/N. If I missed anything, please let me know in the comments!

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I really liked writing this, and I hope yall like it too. If you have any suggestions for future fics, just let me know :) also, if anyone knows how to make your posts say the "see more" thing, I would really appreciate it😭 I'm tired of scrolling all the way through a fic just to get to my other posts lmao.

Enjoy!

Edit: had to tweak a few things today, it was really late when I posted this last night and I forgot to add some stuff. Now enjoy (for real this time).

You yawn as you lumber into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from your eyes. Still making yourself aware of your surroundings, you spot the coffee machine on the counter and walk over to pour yourself a cup.

"Mornin'."

The smooth southern drawl of his voice abruptly cuts into the silence of the apartment, making you jump. You turn around, sipping on the hot, bitter liquid to face him.

"Jack? I thought you weren't supposed to be back for about a week."

He sits at the small two-seater dining table with a newspaper in hand and his beloved Stetson on the surface beside him.

"Well, I wasn't, but once we landed in Dallas, my boss musta' had the sudden realization that he overcompensated for the amount of work that needed to be done, so I was uh, sent home early."

You blink as you take in the slightly annoyed tone of his voice, the way his brows furrow as he talks, and the way his eyes glide over the page he's focused on.

"Oh."

You never really asked about his job, but you knew he was pretty secretive about it and that it kept him away often.

You pause and take a swig of your coffee.

"Hey, Jack, when'd you get in?"

Shit. Please say he got here this morning. Early this morning, too tired to even shower, please say that. Please say he didn't hear anything. Please, please, pl-

"Pretty late last night, but apparently not late enough. Boy, it sounded like you were havin' fun," he snickers as he turns the page.

Shit indeed.

"I don't know what you mean," you say, playing dumb, but he sees right through you.

"Oh come on, sweetheart," he drawls, tearing his eyes away from the paper and looking up at you through dark lashes, "You weren't exactly quiet."

"You think maybe," you scoff under your breath, giving up the useless facade, "That was the point?"

You couldn't hide the disappointment in your voice. And you were disappointed. You had high hopes for the man you had met the night before. He had seen you from across the bar and bought you a drink. He came over a minute later and cracked a cheesy pickup line. Despite your groans, the alcohol already in your system made you easy to laugh, and you invited him to have a seat. He was kind, funny, moderately handsome, and when he touched your leg after a joke, it gave you goosebumps. Yes, he was all this, and somehow, completely horrible in bed.

Jack chuckles. "So you were fakin'?"

"Yeah, nothing new though, if I'm being honest. Seems like all men have the same goal: get off and get out."

He looks back down at the newspaper. "Well that's quite a statement."

"So you're saying it's not true then?" You bring the mug to your lips, awaiting his answer.

He shrugs. "In my personal experience, no. A woman never leaves my bed unsatisfied."

You scoff lightly. "Well aren't you special?"

"It's true, sugar," He looks back up at you. "You wouldn't."

You look at him with wide eyes, silent at the suggestion that's clearly a joke. Clearly. Right?

"Hey, you there?" His voice snaps you out of your thoughts and back to the present.

"Jack, what do you mean by that?"

"By what, sweetheart?"

"By saying that I wouldn't."

You lock his eyes with yours, daring him to say the words again. He looks at ease, like he's enjoying this, even. He clears his throat.

"What I mean by that, is that if you had sex with me, darlin', those moans wouldn't be fake."

You stare at him, cheeks heating up, even more dumbfounded by these words than the last. This side of him wasn't relatively unseen, though. He was always flirtatious with you, and sometimes you even returned those words jokingly. He made it easy enough, being hot as hell, but he was your roommate. You had deemed him off limits on day one.

"Is that an offer?" You tease, trying to salvage your dignity.

He closes the newspaper and stands up, smirking. "I don't know, is it?"

You look at him as he walks towards you, still trying to wrap your mind around his words. The only viable explanation for this is that he's messing with you.

"You're kidding, right?"

"I don't know, am I?"

"For God's sake, Daniels, just answer the damn question," You say in exasperation. "It's too early in the morning for riddles."

He closes the space between you, his eyes locked onto yours.

"I think I've made my intentions pretty clear, darlin'."

You're looking up at him now, so close he can probably hear your heart trying to jump out of your chest. Your eyes take all of him in, your gaze lingering first on his warm brown eyes, the shape of his beautiful aquiline nose, then the pout of his lips. You can make out his familiar scent of whiskey, caramel, and spicy hints of cinnamon. You make one last feeble attempt to deny what you want. What you need.

"Jack, I don't know...." Your words almost get caught in your throat as you continue to take in his presence so close to you. "I don't know if this is a good idea."

He smiles as he takes the mug out of your hands and sets it gently on the counter.

"Let me help you make up your mind."

Your eyes lock on his as he cups one side of your face with his hand. And then he's kissing you. His lips touch yours and suddenly you feel a longing for him that you hadn't known was there. Your eyes flutter closed as you savor the kiss, tender but firm. He tastes both spicy and sweet, and you feel as if you can't get enough. His lips linger on yours for a moment before he lets them separate and presses his forehead to yours.

"Just say the word and I'll stop." His words break the silence the kiss fills and your eyes open to look at him. You take in the situation for a moment. You pushed up against the counter, this close to him. Your bodies feel as if they were made to be pressed together like this. Fuck it, you decide. You reach up to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him back toward you. The kiss is rougher this time, more needy from the both of you. Your hands find his hair and run through his dark locks, looking for anything to grab onto.

He softly grips your waist with his free hand and takes his lips away from yours. You would protest at the absence if he wasn't moving his mouth lower to your chin, down your jaw, and then finally making you gasp as he hits a spot on your neck that sends sparks all through your body and heats up the place between your legs. He lets his hand fall from your face to make its way around your waist, then lets the other one go lower to snake its way around your upper thigh. In one swift motion, he picks you up and sets you gently on the counter, still kissing you hungrily.

His hands seem to have a mind of their own, moving to touch every part of you that they can at once, though still never enough. They move across your legs, your waist, and up your shirt, each spot they desert replaced with a feeling of need for his touch. Your eyes are closed and your mouth is open in a soft 'oh' as he moves his lips from your neck to your sternum, your hands still playing with his hair.

He lightly touches the fabric of your shirt and pulls his lips away from your skin to look at you again, both of you breathing in unison.

"This shirt needs to come off, sweetheart."

The words weren't a statement, but a question. One last chance for you to stop this before it goes too far. He slowly bunches up the fabric at each side of your shirt as he awaits your answer. You give him a single slow nod, telling him to go ahead. He nods back as he carefully lifts the shirt up over your head and tosses it on the floor.

Normally, when he was home, you would wear a sports bra under your shirt to bed, something to cover your chest. You had grown up uncomfortable with the idea of anyone seeing too much, and that notion stuck with you into adulthood. But due to him not being there for the past few days, you had freed yourself from that restraint.

"Shorts, too."

He plays at the waistband of your shorts as you adjust to allow him to pull them off and throw them haphazardly next to your shirt.

You look at his face for any type of reaction, waiting for him to say or do something, anything, as he just stares at you for a moment. Stares at your bare breasts, the way they shape a deep 'V' into your chest. The black lace panties you're still wearing from preparation for the night before. He stares at you in awe of what he deems perfection.

He brings his hand to your stomach, slowly moving it upward to cup your breast, his thumb moving circles around the bud of your nipple. The stimulation gives you chills as he kisses you again. He starts to move down like before, but doesn't stop at your collarbone. Instead, he goes further to your other breast, kissing and licking at your other nipple as he looks up at your reaction. Your eyes are closed in concentration, trying to savor the moment.

After a minute, he stands up and guides your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. He makes out with you ravenously as he picks you up, carrying you across the apartment and to the couch. He brings both of you down onto it, him on top of you as your legs untangle themselves from around him. He sits up for a moment, taking off his T-shirt to reveal his bare chest, then goes back to touch your lips with his. One hand is in your hair, the other making its way down your body, finally settling on the fabric of your panties.

His fingers rub small circles around your sensitive spot through the fabric, making you squirm. He smiles against your lips as he takes in the small sounds you make against his. He drags his mouth down your body as he continues to play with your clit, enjoying every reaction he can draw from you with just his hands.

"Fuck, sweetheart. So wet for me already, hm? You want these fingers inside you, sugar?" He says, his mouth down by your entrance, placing small kisses around the area and sending jolts through your body with each one. Not able to wait, he pushes the lace aside as he licks a stripe up your pussy, making you moan softly. You cover your mouth, embarrassed to be making noises this early.

"Yeah, just like that darlin'. Keep makin' sounds just like that for me." He reaches up to grab your wrist to remove it from your mouth and pin it to your side. He continues to tease your clit with his tongue as your body begs for him and your mouth does the same. He finally lets his tongue enter you, looking up at you as he chuckles at your reaction.

You moan and continue to writhe under the influence of his tongue as he uses his forearm to pin you to the couch.

"Shhh, sweetheart. Stop movin'....just relax. Stop squirmin' or I'll stop. Understand?" He says, clearly enjoying the way you're trying to control yourself.

"Mm-hm." You nod, unable to form coherent words and try to focus on following his directions. You try, but you're falling apart at the seams with the way his tongue is massaging your pussy. With the way his mustache is rubbing against your clit, creating friction and blinding all your senses with pleasure. He takes your legs and throws them over his shoulders, then enters you with his fingers. Fingers much bigger and and longer than your own.

He curls them inward, repeatedly hitting a spot that makes you see stars. You moan loud as he continues to eat you out and finger you at the same time, stimulating and bringing you to the brink of an orgasm.

"Jack, please," You beg between moans, finally finding the words, "I need more."

He laughs as he meets your request, curling his fingers even deeper inside you and sucking your clit, sending you over the edge. You wrap your legs around his neck and cry out his name louder than ever as you come, closing your eyes as white-hot pleasure courses through you. You buck your hips against him as he helps you ride out your high until it becomes too much for you to handle. He cleans you up with his tongue, lapping up your orgasm and making you shudder with every touch placed on your overstimulated area.

Then, he pulls you up into a sitting position, now at eye level with you. He brings his fingers to your lips, letting you taste yourself on him. It's unlike anything you'd ever experienced before, and you allow yourself to enjoy it, looking into his eyes as you lick every bit of your juices off of him, coming off his fingers with a soft pop. With your legs now together, he's able to pull off the useless panties separating your pussy from him in a single quick motion and let them drop to the floor. He stands up and unbuttons his jeans, dropping and stepping out of them. From your sitting position, your eyes are level with his boxers, and he gives a low hiss as you palm him through the thin cotton with your hand.

"These need to come off, sweetheart." You look up at him, feigning innocence as your hand continues to tease him. You tug at the waistband with both hands and pull them down, eyes widening as you take in the sight of his cock.

Oh, fuck. Of course he's big.

Your reaction is subtle but apparently not invisible, because he laughs softly and lifts your chin to look at him in the face.

"You can take it darlin', you'll be fine. Promise."

You quickly regain your composure and nod as he strokes himself a few times, trying to relieve some of the tension in him. Then, he takes your hands and helps you off the couch, kissing you as he turns you both around and sits. He pulls down so you're straddling him, your hands running through his hair as he lines himself up with your entrance.

He stops kissing to look at you and you do the same. He nods in encouragement as you prepare yourself. You start to move down and pause as the tip stretches your entrance. "Fuck," you mumble, and stay there for a second. He's not moving, letting you go at your own pace, and you're instantly thankful. You close your eyes and brace yourself as you lower onto him. You let out a soft gasp and hold onto him tighter as you put his full length inside you. He's painfully big and you stay there for a second, getting used to him. You're positive you wouldn't be able to do this if you weren't already wet from your previous orgasm.

When you feel ready, you start to ride him slowly, still trying to get comfortable. There's still a stinging sensation that comes with each downward motion, but you start to welcome it as pleasure begins to creep its way into the existing pain. After some time, the pain completely subsides and you're left with just desire for more of him. You start to pick up the pace and he notices, both hands on your hips to help guide you onto his cock. You open your eyes to look at him, letting out soft moans as he talks you through it.

"That's it, sweetheart, you're doin' amazing. Look at me, just keep your eyes on me."

Your legs begin to shake as you continue to move up and down, still somehow not enough to get you where you're going just yet.

"Jack. Faster. Please go faster," you whine, barely getting the sentence out. And just like that, you're begging just like you did earlier. With a rushed breath, you choke out the one word that will make him give you what you need.

"More."

Your pleas are hushed and quick, but he understands them. He starts to thrust up into you, his hands gripping your waist hard, no doubt leaving marks. He brings you down onto him with such force that he bottoms out, making you moan loudly. He does this over and over, and with each of his thrusts you melt into him, clinging onto him for support. Your cries for him become louder as he continues, until you swear your neighbors can hear you in the next apartment over.

"Fuck, sugar, keep goin' just like that. Good girl, just keep sayin' my name. So fuckin' pretty when you do that."

His words are low and barely heard over your screams, but they push you further nonetheless. You can tell he's close, but you can also tell there's no way in hell he's about to let himself come before you. He swears as he pounds into you from below, holding you steady as you ride him. The final motion that threatens to send you over the edge is when he brings his index and middle finger up to his tongue then back down to your clit, rubbing it in small, controlled circles. You try to close your eyes but he grabs your chin and makes you face him.

"Look at me darlin'. I want to see those pretty eyes on mine when I make you come." You look at him as best you can and try to focus on his eyes as he keeps his relentless pace, drawing out cries of pleasure from your lips. Then finally, without much warning, the coil tightening in your core snaps, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. Your eyes are still trained on him as he continues to fuck you, each motion making your muscles clench onto him and sending blinding pleasure to every last part of you. You put your head in the indent of his shoulder as you grip onto him for support, the reality of the situation coming back to you as your orgasm wears off. He continues to fuck into you, chasing his own high while whispering praises in your ear. After a few thrusts, his breathing increases and the sound of his voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Where do you want it, sugar?" He asks, his words strained as he tries to maintain his pace. Your face leaves his shoulder and you sit up to look at him.

"Inside."

That's all he needs to hear. He leans his head back against the couch, low groans escaping his mouth. Some seconds later, you feel his warm orgasm enter you, filling you up, and its unlike any sensation you'd ever felt before. You cant help the smile creeping onto your face. It'd always been a kink you wanted to explore, but during previous sessions with other men it had never felt right to ask when the time came. With Jack, though, you don't feel any hesitation to ask for what you want. It's freeing and you know instantly that you would be comfortable telling him even your deepest desires.

He slows his pace to a stop as you rest, still on him. He brings his hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as he looks at you, searching your face for any signs of discomfort. He carefully guides you off of him then helps you sit down on the couch. He stands up then turns to face you. You have a look of confusion on your face and start to protest before he stops you.

"Don't move, alright? I'll be back in a sec."

You wait on the couch as he goes into the bathroom. He comes back after a minute, a wet washcloth in hand. He carefully cleans you up, chuckling as you shudder when the cloth touches a sensitive spot on your body. When he's done, he tosses it onto the floor beside his clothes. He sits on the couch beside you, then gingerly brings you both down into a laying position, one arm cradling your head, the other wrapped around you, pulling you close to him. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you tenderly before moving up to kiss the tip of your nose, then finally your forehead. He lets himself linger there for a second and you close your eyes, savoring the moment. You bring your hand up to touch his cheek, a small smile spreading across your face.

"So, were they fake?", he asks after a minute, laughing softly. You pretend to swat at him with your hand.

"Shut up." You say, laughing with him.

"Hey," he continues, caressing your back with his hand and still snickering, "you didn't say yes."

"Didnt say no, either." You continue, your head finding its favorite spot in the crook of his shoulder. His next words are missed as you doze off with him holding you, feeling as if you could stay there forever in his arms.

[sinofwriting]

Dinner Gone Awry - Tim Speedle

Words: 685 Summary: Tim really shouldn't have been surprised to get called away. Note(s): I have a taglist! So if you want to be tagged in the future for any of my fics, click here to fill out the form! Also, I'm so in love Speed, my god.

Masterlist | Support Me!

“Shit.” Tim muttered, glancing at his phone that displayed a text from Horatio saying one thing: 911. He glances back up, a sorry expression on his face. “It’s fine, Tim.” She says before he can even begin to apologize. “But,” “Go. Horatio wouldn’t need you unless it was an emergency and you can make it up to me later.”

His brows furrow, he doesn’t want to leave, not when it’s their anniversary dinner, but god did he love how understanding she was about his job. “I will make it up to you.” He promises, quickly standing. Pulling out his wallet he quickly grabs his card and places it on the table. “Use my card, buy yourself whatever you want and I’ll see you at home, yeah?” He tells her, quickly leaning down and pressing their lips together. “Okay.” She murmurs, smiling as she watches as he begins to walk away.

“Text me if you need lunch!” She suddenly calls out, earning a few scandalized looks. “I will!” His near shout and thumbs up earns even more looks and she has to force an apologetic look on her face as one of the waiters approaches the table. Something told her that she’d have to buy herself dinner somewhere else with Tim’s card.

—

“Well, don’t you look fancy.” Delko says, when he gets to the scene of a jet crash. He rolls his eyes, “if this what you call fancy, I feel sorry for any woman you're with.” Both of Delko’s eyebrows raise and Callie who had overheard turns to look at Speed. “I think I have to agree with Delko.” Callie says. “Button up shirt, slacks, and what is that,” she pauses to step closer and takes an exaggerated whiff, “Well, I think I smell some cologne.” He scowls at her, “where’s H?” She smiles at him, “over where the pilot was found, he’s got your kit for you.” “Thanks.” He mutters, before heading over to where the boss is.

“Any survivors?” “Yes, all three on board. One pilot, two passengers.” “A jet for two people?” “I know.” He spots his kit just a foot away from H, but before he can get over to it, H is handing over one of the camera bags. “Anything I need to look out for besides the crash.” “All three were shot.” His eyebrows go up, “Are we thinking unsuccessful murder suicide.” “I don’t know what to think.” “Alright, I’ll start taking pictures.” —

He’s dead on his feet, eyes blurry, and jaw cracking from another yawn when he finally gets to his apartment nearly thirty-six hours later. It had to be some miracle that he hadn’t crashed his Ducati, but he wasn’t about to leave it at the lab.

He slumps against the door as he kicks off his shoes, groaning at how good it feels for them not to be trapped. He considers bending over to pull off his socks, but ends up toeing them off, he didn’t want to chance falling over.

Moving away from the front door, he kicks his shoes and socks away, unknowingly kicking his socks under an end table where he won’t find them for nearly a month. With another yawn, he wanders into his bedroom, unbuttoning his slacks and then pulling both his button up and undershirt off in the same go, grunting when the button up nearly becomes stuck around his head. He tosses the shirts in the general direction of his hamper before stripping off his slacks and briefs, tossing them the same way.

He turns his neck side to side, cracking it with a relieved groan. Eyes half closed, he crawls into bed, not surprised to feel the warmth of another body in it already. He is however surprised by what he feels.

“You're naked.” He mumbles, hand moving up her side to where her fourth rib is before sliding back down to her bare hip. “For me?” His lips quirk up at her laughter. “I think you're a little too tired for that.” “Never.” She hums, “go to sleep, Tim.” “Talk to me until I do?” “Of course.”

[koiturine]

a first kiss is supposed to be a pretty foundational thing, isn't it? it's something i usually try and get out of the way as soon as possible. if you can't even stand the feeling of their lips, the relationship has no future.

how's that worked out for me in the past? i'll give you a hint: it's our third date and i haven't kissed koi yet.

i'd like to think i'm pretty good at reading people, and it's obvious that he has some insecurities about it. i sure can't blame him. just about any bit of affection is a roll of the dice. sometimes he'll hug me back. sometimes he'll shrink right up. sometimes he gives heartfelt compliments. other times he gives cheesy one-liners in a cute attempt to flirt with me.

i thought koi was dead for over five years, and the last thing i want is to lose him again. every time i lose a gamble, i take two steps back. to the point we moved from holding hands to just walking next to each other.

he's rambling about the unbelievable shopping trip he had the other day, and even though it's hilarious, i gotta say i'm a little scared.

this much risk management isn't exactly typical for me, but it's a sacrifice i'm willing to take to keep him around. respect the space, and it'll be way worth the return on investment. i can already tell with the way he keeps looking at my hand. curiosity is always the first step. and a massive relief, i was getting seriously impatient.

"oh! here's the place!" dammit. koi stops to walk in front of me inside the restaurant he wanted to show me. "uh... table for two? or do we wanna sit at the bar?" he turns over to me like i care. "let's do the bar."

he skitters over to a seat near-ish the middle, giving me just enough room to sit next to him. "is it usually this crowded?" even weirder, i actually want to have the little booth with just the two of us. koi's hand twitches.

never mind, i'm too close to that return on investment to give up now. "no, not on tuesday at least... or..." koi chews on his memory of this place. favorite place in the area, but he shows some self control. good. "i can never tell the difference between tuesday and thursday! can't believe they'd just let them start with the same letter, it just makes planning shit out that much more annoying."

i'm still poking through the menu, but koi is a big boy. he can order his piña colada all by himself. "saturday and sunday isn't any better."

"actually it is! they're both the weekend, so who cares?" when i start our tab, he scooches his seat closer to mine. his body starts leaning in my direction, but something stops him before getting his head on my shoulder. "such a tease..." i take every crumb of hope he carelessly leaves behind. without them, it's making me pretty antsy.

the feeling of not being good enough just can't get out of my head. did i give him too much too fast?

"one sec, i gotta take a quick stop in the restroom."

i'm not gone for long, but apparently long enough for someone to start talking to koi. he's always polite. no matter how drunk or forward or annoying a stranger is, he doesn't know how to defend himself. he also doesn't know the difference between friendly and flirty when it's pointed his way.

the stranger's poise tells it all. laughing with him, cracking jokes, asking about him... before he manages to touch him, i speedwalk to wrap my arm around koi without thinking about it.

"hey, jackpot."

"hey, avie--"

i kiss him before he can even finish his sentence. he heard the nickname. he knows he's taken. even though koi feels stiff as a board, the guy gets the hint. walked away without a word. did i have to do it that way? of course not.

"...sorry about that, koi. i just didn't want him to--"

he yanks me back in for a couple more kisses, arms wrapped around me and obviously making up for lost time. taking desperate breaths, practically holding on for dear life.

now that's the kind of payout i was hoping for.

[luckynightdinosaur]

Predvember Day 3

Prompt: Phase

Word Count: 1k

Summary: A woman is captured by Weyland-Yutani, and discovers their plans for her.

Pairing: None

Tags: Human experimentation, corrupt corporations, forced pregnancy (future), dialogue-heavy

Warnings: None

Phase One. 

That's what the scientists are calling it. 

"The beginning of a new breed of soldier, one who can do that which regular men and women cannot. That's the goal here, you see?" 

One of them, a short, rotund ginger woman, tells Max as she is tightening the restraints on her wrists. 

"You're crazy," she spits out between gritted teeth, wishing that the force of her glare was enough to cause the woman to drop dead as she struggles on the metal table in a vain attempt to free herself. "You can't do this to me. I'm an American citizen. I have rights." 

The scientist, whose name tag reads "Fritz", clicks her tongue mockingly. "Don't be ridiculous. The moment you signed those papers, you gave up what rights you have. You belong to Weyland-Yutani." 

"You lied to me!" Max shoots back. "This was supposed to be a social study, not some- some crackpot science experiment! You lied." 

Fritz hesitates, but only for a moment, before she shrugs, her blue eyes narrowing. "It was necessary." 

"Necessary?" Max chokes out, a mixture of indignation, terror and fury making her voice crack. 

She can't believe it.

What these people are proposing is insane. For starters, aliens aren't even real, and yet here they are, claiming that they're going to use extraterrestrial…dna, to impregnate her? 

In the hopes that, what? She conceives a brand new organism, something humanity has never seen before? 

It's the most ridiculous thing that she's ever heard. What is this, a sci-fi movie? 

"You're not going to get away with this, you know," she tells Fritz, as she tests the restraints again, wincing at the way they bite into her skin.

Fritz has the audacity to roll her eyes, a smirk playing at her lips. "Can you get any more cliché? Of course we're going to get away with it. We did our research. No one is even going to notice that you are gone."

The scientist chuckles, shaking her head. "Even if they do, it's doubtful that they will care too much. Anyone who does care about you….well, they aren't in any position to help you anyway, are they?"

"You don't know anything about me," Max retorts, stung at the implication that this woman is aware of her history, even as her stomach drops. 

Did they actually look into her background? Were they just out here targeting specific people for these supposed tests? Or did they just do it for her specifically? 

"I know a lot about you. I know that you only have one living relative, your grandmother. Though she's not long for this world, is she?"

Max grits her teeth. Her grandma Susan is the only reason she's here. 

She is very sick, and Max can't afford the treatments, only able to work part-time while she attends university. 

Finding the advertisement for the study had felt like a lifeline being thrown to her, like the universe had decided to stop shitting on her for once. 

Stupid. So stupid. 

She can't believe she had actually thought that things were looking up, that she'd actually be able to get her nana help. You know what they say. If it's too good to be true…..

"My job will notice if I don't come in, and-" She begins, trailing off as Fritz snorts, her smirk widening. 

"Your job? You mean that dead end ice cream place? Right. Your coworkers despise you. Besides, you'll be replaced in a few days. I doubt that it'll make much of a difference." 

Fritz turns, picking up various things around the room, continuing to speak. "You don't really have any friends that you contact regularly, either. No pets, and no significant other. It's quite sad, really." 

Max swallows hard, barely paying attention to the other woman's words as she struggles to think of a way out of this mess. 

"Why are you doing this? How could you be a part of something like this? It's….. it's wrong." 

Fritz tilts her head in her direction, setting down various unidentifiable tools on a tray next to the table that Max is restrained on. 

"That's subjective. This is for a good cause. Are you even aware what this means for humanity as a whole? Countless men and women die every year fighting for this country. This project will open doors to advancements the likes we've never seen before. This could save lives. And anything that does that, well. It's not bad in my book." 

She's crazy. She's fucking crazy. She actually thinks this is okay. 

"And what about me?" Max demands. "What if I die because of this? What then? Is that still for 'a good cause'??"

"The sacrifice of a few to benefit the many," Fritz replies with a shrug. "I don't know why you're so upset. Personally, I would be honored to be a part of something like this, but I…don't fit the requirements, sadly." 

Her eyes flick to Max's body, her expression undeniably jealous for the quickest of moments.

Max resists the urge to make a nasty comment, her jaw aching with how hard she's clenching her jaw. 

"Besides," Fritz continues. "You're still getting what you want, you know. Your grandmother will be looked after during this project, and will be as long as you prove useful. You have no reason to be upset."

No reason to-

"No reason to be upset!?" Max shouts, rage flaring through her as she strains herself against her restraints. "Are you delusional, or are you just stupid? How can you say-"

"The doctor will be with you soon," the scientist interrupts loudly. 

She gives her a fake, cheery smile. "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. I'll be the intern recording your progress throughout this project. I look forward to assisting you through your journey." 

Before Max can respond, she turns sharply on her heel, and exits the room. 

Leaving her to stare at the door with nothing but dread for company, as she waits for the inevitable.