#in case I need to recall some memory

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

rafe having no boundaries and grabbing his girlfriend's ass in front of family during a family trip

A little Rafe and Sarah being siblings

—

‘’Can you not do that here?’’ Sarah grimaced after Rafe wandered in and smacked your ass on his way to the fridge. ‘’We’re cooking. That’s gross.’’ 

You and Sarah had woken up earlier than everyone else and decided to whip some pancake batter. They were coming along nicely, slowly piling up on a plate.

Rafe rolled his eyes in response and leaned against the kitchen counter. ‘’Chill out, Sarah. I’m just saying ‘good morning’ to my girl.’’

Sarah scoffed, giving him a glare as you flipped out the pancake in the pan. ‘’Well, keep your 'good mornings' to yourself until after breakfast and when I’m not around, alright? I’ve seen and heard enough things I didn’t want to.’’ 

Your cheeks turned red and you kept your eyes on the pan, embarrassed as memories of Sarah catching you topless in their pool and all the times she heard you through the walls of Tannyhill before Rafe got his own place. You’ll never apologize to her enough. 

‘’Stop acting like a prude. I’ve heard you on the phone with that pogue you’re seeing. Ahh, John B., I wish your fingers were inside me. I’m so close, I need to—’’ 

Sarah grabbed a blueberry and threw it at her brother, her face burning hot at his mockery. If eyes could kill, Rafe would be a dead man. She looked murderous. 

Rafe smirked, unfazed by the blueberry that was thrown his way. He crossed his arms crossed over his broad chest, and his blue eyes flickered with amusement. ‘’These walls are old. Did you think I couldn’t hear you?’’ 

To avoid a Sarah vs Rafe duel from happening, you asked Rafe if he wanted chocolate chips or blueberries in his pancakes. You already knew the answer, but you needed to defuse the bomb before it would explode. 

‘’Blueberries. You know how I like my pancakes, baby,’’ he said, pushing himself off the counter and closing the distance between you and him in a few strides. 

Sarah shot a glare in his direction, her eyes narrowing, but Rafe chose to ignore her and kiss your shoulder, standing right behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his chest against your back and resting his chin above your shoulder.

‘’Rafe, you’re distracting me,’’ you warned, pouring batter in the pan and adding some blueberries. 

Rafe laughed lowly, his chest rumbling against your back as his arms wrapped tighter around your waist. He pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot behind your ear, his lips lingering on your skin for a few seconds. ‘’These look good. Think we can take the pancakes to bed after you’re done?’’ 

Breakfast in bed, away from everyone else, sounded tempting. You've had breakfast with the Camerons since you arrived, sticking to the polite routine. You missed being alone with Rafe in the morning, taking it slow and engaging in non-PG activities.  

Before you answered, Sarah cleared her throat beside you, a disapproving look on her face. Rafe thought he was subtle and sleek when he had his hand wander under your robe. 

He lifted his head and gave her a cocky grin. ''What?'' 

‘’In case you forgot, I’m still here,'' the blonde recalled, taking a few plates from the cupboards and deciding to set the table. ‘’And Wheezie and Dad and Rose are gonna come down soon.’’ 

‘’I know,'' Rafe replied, stepping back and letting you finish the pancakes. ''If you had not been here, I would have her bent over the counter already.’’ 

His words should have shocked you, but you were used to his bluntness by now. Rafe never held back, always saying exactly what was on his mind, no matter how outrageous. No matter the audience. You thought he would behave and tone it down with Wheezie in the house, but he didn’t. 

Thankfully, her young ears were not around.

You looked over your shoulder, failing at hiding the smirk that tugged at the corners of your lip.

—

OBX taglist: @moralina@eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx@sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife   @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue   @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker   @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage   @maybankslover @sunflowerziva @laylasbunbunny @Honey-marvel15 @leoluvsur-pappy @slytherhoes @kcskye123 @outerbanksacc   @pedrosprincess   @mikaelsonsstuff  @skyesthebomb   @a1mzcruml3y @iluurmom   @popeheywardssecretgf  @madelynie  @loverofdrewstarkey   @radiant-whore  @outsider-at-hogwarts @luci1fer @bbycowboi @rafecameronsbadussy @urbfsbitchlol @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @Veescorneroftheworld   @papayaboyluvr @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @johannelis2302nely @lynbubble   @straberryshortcake143 @beth-gallagher22 @doestalker @rubyliquor @theflcwer @angelxxrose @sierraluvzz @cruzgrecia @evelestrange @sunnysunny133696  @under-seasoned-pasta @hoeforsirius   @buckyswhxre @emerald-09   @simonessolarsystem @rehead1180 @stvrkey  @ynmunson @riddle18  @love4ldr @withfireandbl00d @wonderland2425 @blublock404 @eddieslut69

[autistichalsin]

I hate that I have to give this PSA at all- that I do is a failure on the part of multiple governmental organizations. But it is important.

COVID damages a lot more than you think. It damages more than your lungs, and does more than give you digestive issues. And sometimes, those issues can last well after you get better, even if you're not a person you would otherwise think of as being sick with long COVID.

If you only remember these two things, please just remember that:

COVID can and does damage your heart.

COVID can and does damage your nervous system, particularly your brain.

If you have had COVID in the last 18 months, you are at a highly elevated risk of sudden cardiac death compared to someone who hasn't. In the first three weeks after getting sick, your odds of dying from a heart-related event are 81 times that of an uninfected person, and five times higher in the following 18 months. You are also at a higher risk of of developing nonfatal heart disease; 40% likelier. (Source for all claims in this paragraph)

If you develop ANY cardiac symptoms at all after getting COVID- heart palpitations, blood pressure issues, fatigue, fainting, getting out of breath easier than is normal for you- you need to see a doctor as soon as possible, and you need to tell them you've recently had COVID. You have long COVID until proven otherwise.

Similarly, your risk of neurological disorders remains heightened over a year after getting COVID; approximately 40% higher. (Source) This manifests in more ways than I have time to list, but includes a vastly higher risk of dementia of all types (doctors are particularly seeing this with the under-45 group that was previously extremely rare), memory disorders, sensory issues (like persisting loss or distortion of taste and smell), mental health issues like anxiety or depression, and even more.

These can manifest in a lot of ways. But if you experience new anxiety or depression, new behavioral issues (particularly for those under the age of 18), if you suddenly can't focus anymore or can't remember things anymore (ESPECIALLY words, COVID has been noted to cause extreme difficulty with word recall), if you have tremors, if you're tired all the time, if you have "brain fog", if you have trouble sleeping, I could go on... again. You have long COVID until proven otherwise. EVEN IF you aren't "that sick". Even if you have energy to do things and can mostly function but you just aren't doing well in school/at work anymore because you can't remember the things your teacher/professor is talking about/the new work protocols your boss went over with you.

If you hop over to the subreddits for teachers or professors, you will notice a lot of them noting their students don't remember basic things the teachers have been pressing for an entire semester, or that students can't sit long enough to focus through a movie. And sure, some of that is cell phones reducing attention span, or students just not paying attention- but they just can't seem to pick up the pieces there that they are seeing long-term sequelae (that is, a different illness arising from COVID infection) in their students. It is everywhere, but few people are connecting the dots.

Similarly, there is a huge wave of pilots being unable to pass their physicals and losing their licenses, or making mistakes due to brain fog (in some cases even leading to crashes) or falling victim to sudden cardiac death in the middle of a flight.

EVERYONE is at risk from this. No one is talking about this. I don't kn- well, actually, no, I do know exactly why, I just don't like it. People want to make COVID the new flu, but it just isn't. It is not and never will be the flu. And we are willingly inflicting cardiomyopathy and dementia and all sorts of awful things on people in the name of regaining a sense of normalcy that is gone, but ironically would be closer to returning if we had accepted for a while that things WEREN'T normal and acted accordingly. But that chance is gone now, COVID is never going away because people couldn't bother, but they still can't admit it, they can't face the consequences of their actions, so instead we're getting this attempted coverup of the real long-terms dangers of COVID that even "young and healthy" people have.

But pretending things are normal doesn't make sick people healthy. So instead, try to educate folks, because there is a very high chance you or someone you know is sick right now, due to COVID infections they had months ago, and doesn't know it because people are pretending COVID is just the flu but with tummy upset and a disrupted sense of taste/smell.

People NEED to know what the actual dangers are.

ALSO, sidenote: if you are masking, and ask your medical team to mask, and they respond by starting to suggest you are experiencing "COVID anxiety", find a new provider. Immediately. Don't even continue the appointment. They are not interested in helping you.

Signed, your friendly neighborhood epidemiologist.

[ddejavvu]

Helloo!! Sooo I have a picture of mgg as my lock screen but his face isn’t in the picture and I was wonderinggg if you could write about the girls at the bau seeing your background of your phone and it’s some guy but they don’t know it’s spencer and they ask all these questions about this mysterious secret boyfriend you have and asking to meet him and r is just like maybeeee idk knowing that they have in fact met him and maybe spencer is near by and hearing all this and is just all shy and flustered. If you do write this THANK YOUUU you’re writing it phenomenal, one of a kind, it’s so good!!! <333

"Woah, hubba hubba," JJ's eyes bug out at your phone screen, and Emily, forever on JJ's wavelength, snatches it out of your hands before you can properly dim the screen.

"Who is that?" Emily asks everyone's burning question, and one of Penelope's hands squeezes yours, with nails, to emphasize her urgency.

Your lock screen is a picture of Spencer's bare chest clad only in a blazer, the front open in a lewd V that showcases the dark pink kiss marks you'd spread across the smattering of wiry curls he's grown. It's not something you'd meant to flash your coworkers with, and Spencer chokes on his water while Derek hoots and hollers at it.

"There are some things that should be kept private," Rossi drawls, eyes wide and haunted as he stands, "I'm going to get Aaron and myself another refill, just in case any worse pictures get shown around the table."

Hotch laughs at the older man, amusement lining his features handsomely as the group continues to tease you.

"So, when are you bringing this guy around? Not that we'd recognize him anyways, unless he showed up shirtless with lipstick all over him."

"Derek, you-" You barely stop yourself from saying, 'you have met him', instead swerving into an easy insult, "You're the last person I want to introduce him to. You'll never let us live this down."

"None of us will." Prentiss promises, her grin wolfish, "You'll be lucky if Garcia doesn't manage to track him down using nipple-recognition software."

Your technical analyst cackles into her drink, and Spencer makes a hasty getaway.

"I need the bathroom," He paws with burning cheeks at Derek's leg, ushering the man out of his way so that he can speed-walk to the bathroom. You watch him go, hearing Hotch let out a rare laugh at his urgency.

"Poor Spence," JJ croons, "Did you see how red his face was?"

"That kid's almost thirty and I bet he can't even say the word 'sex' without blushing." Derek scoffs.

"He can't. I've seen it." Garcia confirms, "It's pathetic."

"Pathetic," You snort, but what your team hears as agreement, you mean as contradiction. Spencer was nothing close to pathetic that night- sweet and tender, yes, but pathetic, no. He'd cupped your face while you'd spread a smattering of sticky kisses across his chest, and he'd stared into your eyes when you'd taken the picture, a smile on his face even though he'd known his grin wouldn't be in frame.

"Well get all of it out now," Hotch advises, a teasing tone in his voice, "Spencer won't come back if we're still talking about it."

"I'm happy for you." Dave states, setting his and Aaron's drinks down, "But so help me, Y/N, if I ever see your boyfriend's naked torso again, I'll kill myself."

You refrain from telling Rossi he had just seen your boyfriend's bare torso, last week when Spencer had needed to be stripped of his cold, wet clothes, and thrust into a heated blanket for warmth. No one had batted an eye at his brief nudity, and neither had you, because you'd memorized every inch of his skin. You didn't need to ogle him; you could recall his body from memory.

"I'll keep that in mind." You nod at Rossi sagely, "Just don't go through the rest of my camera roll." You see Spencer exit the bathroom, peering cautiously at your table to see if he can predict the conversation before returning, "Or you'll find a lot worse than his chest."

[yandere-writer-momo]

Shoutout to Monster Anon for another amazing idea

Yandere Short Stories:

Right Where I Want You

Yandere Private Investigator x Fem Reader

TW: Yandere themes, delusional behavior, unhealthy behavior, racism (ex mil makes a comment), savior complex, murder, stalking, etc.

Inhale. Exhale. Nicalli blew cigarette smoke from his lips while his body sunk into his plush couch in his pent house. Another failure of a day in an attempt to find dirt on his target.

The stench from his lit cigarette did little to soothe the loneliness in Necalli’s heart. No, this small vice merely burned the back of his throat and made his clothes reek of bad decisions. This small action did little to satiate the growing lust that consumed his very being.

Nicalli ran an umber hand through his long, black hair. A few strands stuck to his sweaty palms while his heart raced in his chest.

Nicalli had been plagued with alien feelings ever since he’s taken on this new case. The case that involved the Goldberg family and their son’s fiancée, (your full name).

He has been a private investigator for over a decade and he’s never had someone be so innocent. How could (your name) not have a single speck of dirt on her?! Good people didn’t exist in this world! There was no way someone so pure could be involved with the Goldberg family…

Nicalli sighed in frustration and put his cigarette out on the jaguar shaped ashtray on his coffee table. His russet eyes scanned the various documents before him in frustration.

All he had were pictures of her helping at the local soup kitchen and her indulging in her small hobbies. She was so mundane… he didn’t have anything to give his employer to ‘protect her precious son.’

Nicalli had been on this case for eight months now and he still had nothing but pictures of this absurdly beautiful woman. Henry Goldberg was lucky to have such a faithful woman… Nicalli would die for one.

Nicalli didn’t believe in love after the betrayal of his lover when he was in the military. It was that betrayal that made him become a private investigator in the first place so no one else had to find out like he did… yet this life was lonely. Nicalli was so lonely and now he was enchanted by his target. How pathetic was that?

Nicalli continued to admire to various pictures he had of (your name). She was really beautiful… how could someone smile so joyously? There was nothing in this world to be happy about… or was there?

.

.

.

Nicalli recalled the memory of when he first received this job. He sat in the Goldberg mansion’s study. His large body squished into a small leather chair while the mother and son gave him fake smiles.

“We need you to investigate (your full name).” Mrs. Goldberg pushed a file towards Nicalli, the Mexican man accepted the file with a solemn look. “I feel like she’s cheating on my son… or even involved in some sort of illegal activity.”

Nicalli was shocked to open the file to see the smiling face of a beautiful young woman. This woman was involved in some sort of illegal activity? She looked like she couldn’t harm a fly!

“I will be able to sleep better at night knowing my son is in good hands.” Mrs. Goldberg she d a few crocodile tears before Henry Goldberg handed Nicalli a check that would make anyone gasp at the amount.

“I heard you’re the best in the business so please, don’t disappoint us.”

Nicalli took the money and nodded his head. He could do this… this job would be like all the others…

.

.

.

Nicalli felt his breath hitch the first day he saw (your name). He’s never seen someone so pretty before… she had to be some sort of forest fairy rather than a human.

Nicalli studied her from his car, his russet eyes studied her in great interest. He has followed her around for weeks now and there was still not a speck of dirt on her…

Nicalli was in disbelief. (Your name) seemed to be a good person… but he was determined to find something on her. Anything would do.

So he continued to stalk her which brought him to present day…

.

.

.

“Have a good day!” (Your name) smiled at the various homeless people that inhabited the soup kitchen. She served each one with a cheery smile, even if they seemed displeased with her.

Nicalli sat in the corner at a bench. His russet eyes studied her in distaste. Didn’t she tire of this? These people didn’t appreciate her company… no one seemed to despite her constant efforts. Nicalli didn’t understand the point of her unnecessary kindness.

(Your name) was so sweet, she could make teeth rot. A woman like her didn’t belong in a place like this, it was dangerous-

Nicalli jumped when (your name) stood before him, a bowl of soup in her hands.

“Hello?” (Your name) tilted off her head to the side as she studied Nicalli in interest. “I always spot you here, but you never come up to the stand so I thought I’d come to you.”

Shit. He had grown careless since she’s so docile… now she knew his face. Should he just call the mission a done deal?

Nicalli was shocked when she gently placed the bowl in front of him with a soft smile. “Here. Enjoy some soup, okay? You always look so sad…”

Nicalli bit his tongue. No matter how badly he wanted to refuse her, he couldn’t bring himself to. If he rejected her kindness, it would be as if he kicked a puppy. And people do not kick puppies.

Nicalli was surprised that the soup was delicious but then he saw her smile even wider.

“I made the soup, so please enjoy to your heart’s content. If you need anything, I’m (your name)! I’ll see you around, mister!” She then went back to the kitchen while Nicalli sat dumbfounded.

The Hispanic man sat there for a few minutes longer before he felt a blush envelope his cheeks. His heart wildly leapt in his chest and his palms began to sweat buckets. What just happened to him?

There was no way… no way he had a crush on (your name)? Yet he couldn’t help the way his eyes shyly glanced towards her bubbly form while she served the rest of the costumers.

She was a good person… (your name) was a genuinely good person. Nicalli was sure of it. And now he needed to report his findings to the Goldbergs.

.

.

.

It took everything in Nicalli not to choke slam Henry Goldberg into the velvet carpet in his study. This man was a bastard… he didn’t deserve (your name).

“God, I thought you were the best of the best!” Henry sighed while his parents chuckled.

“Now son, I’m sure he’ll find something on that commoner.” Mrs. Goldberg pointed out to her son who scoffed.

“Mommy, at the rate he’s going. He’ll need to make something up!” Henry hummed, the man reached for his check book. “How much money do you need to fabricate a lie on her? I truly cannot marry a commoner, but it looks good for the citizens-“

Nicalli furrowed his brow. What on earth were they on about? “Aren’t you happy she’s a good person?”

Henry and his mother paused before the two of them erupted into laughter. “Happy she’s a good person? No one told us you were a comedian!!”

“How about you plant one of my necklaces or jewels in her home so we have the grounds to annul this engagement? I really cannot have my son end up with a woman so poor like that.” Mrs. Goldberg took off her diamond necklace and tried to hand it to Nicalli but the private investigator pushed it back toward her. “Oh come on. People like you are familiar with stealing, right?”

Nicalli’s head spun in horror and confusion. They were going to frame her to make themselves look better for the people… they were going to frame an innocent woman for a crime. The Goldbergs were horrible people… horrible villains.

“Mother, not all Mexicans are thieves.” Henry rolled his eyes before he gave Nicalli a knowing smile. “But I do need you to pin a crime of some sort on her. I can’t have her have the Goldberg family name.”

Even though Nicalli wanted to scream at the two of them, he must feel himself in. He needed to have evidence to show (your name) to save her. Nicalli wanted to save her… she didn’t deserve to have her name tarnished over corrupt people like these ones.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Nicalli gave the Goldbergs a stiff smile. Yes… he’d contact his sources to dig dirt up on the Goldbergs.

Nicalli didn’t become a private investigator to harm innocent people. Nicalli did this to protect the innocent from heart break.

.

.

.

Nicalli threw his coffe table across the room after his source had called him and faxed him over pictures of Henry Goldberg with escorts. Bastard… that fucking bastard!

Henry had this perfect woman and he cheated on her with escorts?! He was involved in drug and sex slave trafficking?! This was a rabbit hole Nicalli never thought he’d find himself in… and he had to get (your name) out.

A man like that didn’t deserve her… not like he did. Nicalli would treasure a woman like her. He’s pamper her and make sure she was properly pleasured- what the hell was that?!

Nicalli shook his head to clear his thoughts. How dare he think of her in such a way… Nicalli wasn’t worthy of her.

Nicalli’s cheeks flushed in anger. Henry had to suffer. He had to pay for his crimes. The Goldbergs had to pay for their crimes.

Nicalli snatched one of the pictures up before he was able to locate Henry’s location. It would be easy to track him down… Nicalli was all too familiar with the Red Light District.

All he needed to do was figure out which vehicle was his, but that couldn’t be too hard. Henry was a classic spoiled narcissist. His car would be colorful and loud, just like him.

.

.

.

The death of Henry Goldberg was on every news channel and in every article. His shiny red sports car was totaled and the bodies of two escorts were found with him. The cause of death was drunk driving and brake failure.

There was not a doubt in Nicalli’s mind that (your name) would be distraught… but he had to take care of Mrs. Goldberg first.

Nicalli adjusted his black leather gloves on his hands as he slowly approached the Goldberg’s office to discuss further business. The pistol with a silencer attached was buried deep within his coat.

This was all for (your name)‘s future… for their future together. It only made sense to him that he got the girl after saving her! Nicalli could make her happy!

Nicalli would have (your name) right where he wanted her…

.

.

.

(Your name) sniffled in her bed, her body trembled in sorrow. She couldn’t believe Henry died and his mother had committed suicide… she knew Mrs. Goldberg adored her son, but she had no idea it was to such an extent…

Yet she wasn’t surprised about Henry being a deviant. It was why she avoided being physical with him. There was a small voice in the back of her head that told her he was bad news… yet was it wrong for her to want the money to live a good life? She’d never have to worry about bills again if she married him… but then he sent the private investigator her way.

God, it irritated her… but she wasn’t a horrible person. She just wanted a better life was all… was that a crime?

And she always felt unsettled under that man’s gaze. He had such sharp features and such a piercing stare. There was no way people didn’t know he was there when his presence felt like a predator’s.

The man had such a bewitching appearance. Hell, his hair was prettier than hers and his hooked nose was gorgeous… that private investigator was more attractive than her dead white fiancé.

So when she had a package full of photos of Henry with escorts, she knew it was her ‘stalker.’ It was nice to know he had a good moral compass, but these photos were too late. They weren’t anything she wasn’t aware of.

Despite her bubbly attitude, (your name) was not naive. She knew the Goldbergs weren’t good people. No old money family were.

(Your name) sighed as she rose up from her bed and wiped her eyes. There went her plan to be with a man with a trust fund…

(Your name) was surprised to see a bouquet of red roses and carnations on her doorstep. It seemed that private investigator may have a crush.

(Your name) smiled in thought. He was a private investigator for rich people, right? Then maybe he had the money to ensure she had a good life?

She turned her head and spotted the shy man on his car. That classic 1964 Chevrolet impala always stuck out like a sore thumb.

(Your name) wiped her eyes a bit before she gave him a smile. She could spot his red cheeks from her place by her door. It seemed she wouldn’t have to work too hard for this one… because she had him right where she wanted him.

[kneazle]

Sal stood outside of the hospital room, placing his body directly in front of the closed door blocking anyone from entering. As he saw them coming down the hall with Buckley in the lead he placed his feet steady on the floor, crossed his arms over his chest, and straightened himself to his full height.

They stopped short at the sight of him.

"Sal?" Chimney blinked in shock, glancing at Hen and Nash so quick he might have missed it if his gaze wasn't so focused on them all.

He narrowed his eyes. "Nice to see you too, Chimney."

"I just- don't you live on the other side of the country now?"

"I moved back recently," Sal said, not saying anything further on the matter. None of them needed to know about his wife passing, of moving back to LA with his daughter to escape all the memories that were becoming suffocating. "What are all of you doing here?" He said, eyeing them.

Buckley who looked fit to burst, stepped forward. "How- how is he?" He asked, eyes darting from the door and back to Sal, fingers fidgeting.

"Lucky," Sal said, jaw clenched. "He broke his arm, some ribs, they had to fix some internal bleeding, and he has some nasty bruises."

He seemed to deflate at Sal's words, the only person he didn't know reached over to take hold of Buckley's arm. "What I don't get is why any of you are here."

Buckley flinched back at the words and the man he didn't know narrowed his gaze at Sal before speaking. "We're here to see Tommy."

"Really? Wouldn't have known," He said sarcastically. "What I mean is, none of you have been there for him in the last three months. I get it, Buckley is your boy and Chimney in your case family- but Tommy was your friend long before he came into your life, but what does that matter huh?"

He watched all of them shift, guilt crossing most of their faces as Nash only frowned. Sal told himself he would keep control, but anger rose in his chest the more he stood in front of them, remembering the way Tommy mourned more than just the loss of his boyfriend because of his choice. "Tommy made a mistake and was an idiot don't get me wrong, but all of you were real quick to drop him and he might not have a whole posse behind him like Buckley obviously does, but he has me now, and as far as I'm concerned none of you deserve to step foot in this room."

"Deluca-"

"No," Sal interrupted, jaw clenched. "You aren't changing my mind, Captain Nash."

"Please!" Buckley burst out, a look of panic setting over his face. "I- I promise I won't yell or upset him, I just need to see him with my own eyes."

Sal felt bad for the kid, he did, it wasn't his fault Tommy had been broken too many times and got scared. He opened his mouth to tell him no, when a voice coming from the other side of the hall spoke first. "Sal, let Buck in at least," Lucy stepped near him, handing him a coffee. "You know Tommy wouldn't be happy if he found out you prevented Buck from seeing him," He huffed, taking a long sip from the cup, purposely stretching his response out. Lucy sighed in annoyance. "Look, do I support Tommy's choice? No, but the only person going in that room is Buck. The rest of you? A simple text asking someone how they are, takes two damn seconds. You didn't have to be buddies anymore, not if you didn't want to, but fuck would it have hurt to show some compassion for a man who you claimed was a friend only a day before?"

Silence settled over them all. Sal lifted his cup, hiding his smirk behind it at the rage seeping into Lucy's voice.

"We didn't mean to-" The one Sal didn't know the name of began to speak. Diaz, he thinks, trying to recall from Tommy's stories.

"Sure you didn't," Lucy spoke over him, a snap to the words. "Buck, you can go in."

Sal sighed but moved away from the door. Buckley nodded his thanks, head hung low as he moved, multiple emotions filtering across his face. He stopped when stepping beside Sal, turning to face him and Lucy with watery eyes. "Thank you you two...for being there for him." He ducked into the room and shut the door behind him.

Okay, maybe he wouldn't mind if Buckley stuck around. It was clear he still cared about Tommy, and that was enough for Sal.

Hours later after he knew they talked, Sal leaned against the doorway. Buckley sat in the chair as close to the bed as possible with his head laying on it sleeping with Tommy, hands held tight with their fingers laced together, both of their faces looked completely relaxed as tense and sadness turned to healing.

Sal nodded to himself and turned away, closing the door behind him.

"He's going to be okay," Lucy told him, moving away from leaning against the wall. "They aren't letting each other go again."

"I damn well hope not," Sal grumbled.

She chuckled, and swung her arm around his shoulders, leading him away. "Let's go get some breakfast from the diner for dinner."

"You're fucking weird," Sal told her with a scoff.

Lucy grinned, not offended in the least. "You said the same thing about Tommy but you love us. Now come on big guy, you're paying!" She moved away from him quickly with a laugh.

Sal gaped before taking off after her. "Like hell I am!"

[thatsdemko]

without me? - l.norris

masterlist | pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: the silence he enters to is odd… but was there ever really any silence?

warnings: smut + not intended for minors + no plot?

a/n: reminder this is 18+ content!!! I need some serious motivation to write smut so if anyone has any….

there’s a stillness to the room that he just can’t describe. like everything in his apartment looks so picturesque, the sun setting, a dimly lit lamp in the corner. the eery sound of quietness are odd against his ears.

the sounds of the rubber against the pavement, the whirling of drills and tools, the vibration of the car still keep his body in working mode. the endorphins swell his brain with happiness and serenity as he walks from the living room towards the bedroom.

that’s when he finally begins to hear noise.

at first it’s just the faint sound of the mattress squeaking, then, he as steps closer, he can begin to hear the headboard rattling against the wall. whatever he was feeling in his brain shot straight down to his cock and spread an aching in him.

he couldn’t stand behind this door any longer. finally pressing his palm into the knob, he pushes the door gently. his eyes are greeted with the best sight; you. legs apart, vibrator in hand, your hair sprawled across the pillow case, and the oh so sweet sounds of your whimpers are flooding his eardrums.

he can’t help it, the smile that spreads is cocky. you look pathetic and helpless, like something was clearly holding you back, and god he couldn’t wait to put you out of your misery.

you didn’t head the door open, and you certainly didn’t hear the drop of his bags, but you did feel his hand grasp yours and toss the vibrator to the side.

“lando,” you whimper softly. your eyes flutter open for a brief second, you see he’s removing his belt from his waist, and in his own eyes he has some sort of thirst and desire he can’t resist.

you don’t blame him, you’d been waiting for him. you spent all afternoon cleaning to erase your mind from the nasty thoughts you had about your boyfriend. you could still see the ass and hand prints against the shower glass, you could still recall how he fucked you until both of you came collapsing onto the floor.

every part of this house was haunted with some sort sexual memory, and you had attempted to clean it all awaiting to start new ones, but that wasn’t enough. after all that, you still felt unfulfilled. so enter the vibrator, and now, finally, there was lando.

lando’s hips grind against yours, his cock fitting nicely inside you, warmth radiates off of him. your back arches in an automatic response, your body molding up into his, he pushes you down. it’s not stern, but it wasn’t a gentle gesture either, it was still hot coming from him. possessiveness was something lando never lacked.

his thrusts become harder, nonsensical words fall from his lips that range from “I missed you” to “fucking wet” and none of them strung a proper sentence. you just allowed him to take you to the place you couldn’t quite get to with a mechanical toy, and you thank him with peppering kisses to his neck that you know you’ll get shit for tomorrow.

“never fucking do that without me.” he grunts rolling off your body to lay beside you. he takes a moment to catch his breath before sitting back up, “the place is too clean.” he states.

nodding your head you turn in his direction, “do you want to mess it up again?”

“fuck yes.”

[railingsofsorrow]

drabble #11

summary: you are caught red handed squinting while reading and your coworkers don't let it slide.

w.c: 682

warnings/content: no warnings just fluff and bickering between friends; annoyance towards dirty lenses (based on a personal experience); secret relationship (implied).

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

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“pretty girl.”

you were writing something down in a post-it note that you thought was relevant for the investigation before derek's voice came out of nowhere, startling you.

you look up at him, frowning, “why do you have to sneak up on people like that?”

“where are your glasses?” he inquired, narrowing you down with a suspicious look. his arms crossed over his chest as he had the serious stance he usually carried when he was trying to figure someone out. you straightened your back slightly, choosing to go back to your reading since you didn't have a reading speed of 20 000 words per minute and you also didn't want to answer that question.

see, here's the thing. glasses are annoying. dealing with dirty lenses is the worst part of wearing them, because as soon as you clean them up, they get absolutely filthy in the next second. also, you broke your lenses at least three times given your line of work.

so, yes, you purposely forgets them a few days a week to not deal with these issues.

maybe more than just a few days a week.

and your coworkers decided to make a comment or give you a look every time they catch you squinting up at a page.

“hey,” you glared up at derek morgan as he flickered your case file much to your annoyance. “i'm talking to you. where are your glasses? can you even see me right now?”

“shut up, derek.”

“do I need to get you a new pair to leave it here in the office?” he asked with indignation written all over his face. “that's the only way you'll wear them!”

“I don't need to wear them.” you practically hissed at him before he broadcasted the conversation into the entire bullpen. “they're reading glasses, it's not like I need to have them on all the time.”

“the strength of your glasses recently increased to 2. so you do need to wear them if you don't want it to get worst.” spencer dropped his things on his desk, butting in on the conversation as if he had been invited. you scowled, not the slightest amused. he only shrugged.

“see what I'm saying, pretty girl?” derek gave you a look. he resigned with a ruffle to your hair then walked away to make some coffee.

you let out a sigh, fixing up your strands in frustration.

“here.” you looked down at the object placed in your lap. “you forgot it at my place last night.” you blinked up at him, mouth agape.

“i-what?”

“at the bedside table?” spencer gave you a look. the faint memory of your eyeglasses case on top of his bedside table came to your mind.

which was why you couldn't recall where your glasses were at home. you had been late for work and decided to give up on the search.

but they weren't even at your place.

“I cleaned them up.” he added.

“oh. right.” you took the case from him, a coat of pink painting your cheeks. you hoped he didn't expect you were going to wear them. “thank you.”

“thankfully you didn't purposely forgot it at home, right?” spencer softly teased, poking your hip which earned a kick in his ankle.

“shut up.”

he chuckled, stealthily eyeing the bullpen that was fairly empty because it was still early in the morning. he leaned down and quickly pecked your cheek then the corner of your mouth.

“spencer!” you hissed, a warning in your tone as you looked around for any prying eyes.

grinning cheeky at you, he took a few steps back. probably to go to the kitchen to grab the coffee derek was taking too long to bring. “movie night at 8 again?” he mouthed.

with a roll of your eyes, you nod “yes.” you mouthed in return, sticking your attention back to the twenty files to be finished at your desk.

“put your glasses on!” he said out loud on purpose, now attracting attention.

you groaned, hiding your face between your hands.

idiot. an absolute idiot.

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taglist: @lilyviolets

[rukunas]

angsty?? deku sucks here (sorry don’t kill me)

“So?” His hands clasp together, steepled in anticipation. “What did that extra get you? Flowers? Chocolates?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on.” Dynamight smirks. “I need to know so I can get my girl something better.”

You scoff as you place the bouquet of fresh red roses in a vase on his desk, courtesy of his new model girlfriend. The note, marked with a perfect lipstick stain, taunts you. “Is it a competition?”

“When it’s with Deku?” Dynamight flashes his canines. “Yes.”

“You’ll win either way. I wasn’t lying. He didn’t get me anything.” You do your best to keep the vitriol out of your voice, but there’s still a sharpness hidden in your tone.

Bakugo catches it, smile disappearing and his brows pinching together in an uncharacteristic concerned frown. “Oh… That case from the Commission is probably kicking his ass right now.”

“Yeah.” You shrug stiffly. “Enjoy the flowers.”

You feel like a bitch. Dynamight is right— you’ve seen how much Izuku has been working, spending late nights at his office, traveling abroad, meeting with some big officials in the government. You even told him to not worry for Valentine’s Day.

So, why were you mad? You had no right. And yet, you thought…

Buzz.

Your phone: Sorry baby, will make it back late 2nite :(( Don’t wait up on me

Well. It didn’t matter what you thought.

The day seems everlasting, annoyingly so. You would know— having to watch each of your coworkers get their own little presents and cards throughout the day. It would be just as bad if you went home and swiped through your phone all day, watching couple after couple post about their date plans. Fuck it, you’ll just stay back in the office and work ahead, it’s not like you have anything else to do.

“The fuck are you still doing here?” A gruff voice echoes from the hall.

“Why are you here?” You shot back, eyeing the hero who leans against your door frame. You recall when you first started working for Bakugo as his assistant, nervous to even look at him in the eye. Now, you openly glare at him. “Your date is at 8. It was hard as hell to get that reservation, you better not waste it.”

“She’s busy, said it in the note. Where’s your date?”

“He’s busy.”

He hums lowly before looking away, staring at the clutter on your desk. Precious hero figurines that you’ve been collecting for years are propped up in poses, along with a picture of you and Izuku. It was from so long ago, you barely remember the memory.

“Would you—” He starts.

“Can I—”

Silence takes over as the two of you interrupt one another.

“Sorry. You go.” You gesture at him to continue.

“Come with me. For dinner.”

“Me?”

Maybe it’s an illusion, but you swear the tips of his ear go pink. “You said it yourself. I can’t miss that reservation. And you said you don’t have plans…”

“Okay.”

“Seriously?” He sounds surprised. It makes your lips curl upward, followed by a breathless laugh.

“Why would I say no to free dinner?”

“I never said I was paying.”

“Oh, shut up, Katsuki.” It was not an illusion, you conclude, watching as his cheeks turn the same color pink as his ears. It takes you a moment to realize you said his given name.

“Alright. I’ll start the car.” He turns to walk out. “Check your desk before you go.”

“Huh?” Too late— he’s disappeared around the corridor.

Suspiciously, you scan your desk. Maybe he left some form that needed your signature? A PR proposal? But nothing seems to be out of order…

Wait. You pause, breath catching as you find the one thing that definitely was not there before. The Limited Edition All-Might Golden Figurine—the figure that was one of the ten ever made, and one that you’ve always dreamt of getting your hands on— stands boldly at your desk. You don’t know how you missed it, not knowing when it was placed there. You feel warmth bloom at your chest, knowing the one person who’d given it to you.

With hands still shaking in excitement and awe, you send out a text: I love you and I love the gift! Thanks baby!!

You find yourself grinning from ear to ear as you pack your things into your bag and put on your jacket. As you do so, your phone buzzes. A happy sigh flutters from your lips as you rummage through your purse to grab it. You knew he’d get you something! He wouldn’t have forgotten Valentine’s Day! And he’s gotten you the best gift you have ever gotten—

?? What gift?

You roll your eyes at his faux cluelessness, moving to take a picture of the figurine. But, as you do, you catch the note stuck to the bottom of it.

The handwriting isn’t Izuku’s. Though, you recognize it immediately.

Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope I won.

[arthenaa]

nocturne (interlude) — mizu x f!reader

synopsis: it seems as if you've always managed to bump into your father's regular in untimely situations. it also can't be helped that you think he's absolutely handsome.

content: reader is a daughter of a medic and an apothecary, golden retriever x black cat trope, might contain historically inaccurate terms (not that well versed in the edo period or japanese culture. forgive me), mizu will be referred with he/him pronouns, mizu being emotionally constipated ig, slight mention of violence and gore, fluff, pre-relationship, meet cute, sfw.

a/n: heyaaa :D its been awhile since ive posteddd. considering this as a break from comms and sch!! ill try to be more active in posting as my xmas break is approaching hehe <33 current hyperfixation is mizu from blue eyed samurai. (I HIGHLY SUGGEST WATCHING IT !!!) enjoyy part 2!! (my love mine all mine)

You can still remember the first time you met him.

It was quite easy to recall the memory with ease. It was after all one of the nights where there weren't many customers fluttering about to avail your father's services in medicine due to idiotic accidents and miscalculated duels. You watched your father pull out herb after herb, vial after vial, stitch after stitch as more and more swordsmen of all ranks came in and out of the shop.

You were quite well-known around town as the daughter of the medic—often smiling and huffing about. Some say you were too naive to be comfortable and accommodating to your father's customers but others also claim you were elegant and a ray of sunshine due to your approachable and easygoing nature. None of that mattered anyway, not when the field of medicine was your only focus in life.

Your father doesn't like to call you his apprentice but you knew you were his. After all, with all the knowledge he's passed down unto you, you might as well run your own apothecary but alas, you still had much to learn.

It was also a quiet agreement among men that no one pays too much attention to the daughter of the skilled medic and apothecary. You suppose it's because of your father's standing and reputation that most men would rather cut off their arms than get on the bad side of one of the only medics who can actually do a decent job in life-threatening situations.

Which brings us to the current topic at hand.

It had been a cold winter that night. Your father had been busy making fresh medicine at the behest of a high lord in one of the rich provincial states up north. It was up to you to man the front and be alert in case any wanderers might walk in asking for help.

The harsh breeze of that winter night was your first cue. The doors had swung open which left you scrambling off your seat then a second later, a man with a lean stature stumbles his way through—arm clutching the side of his stomach.

Your breath hitches as he props himself against the wooden pillar. He looks up at you, blue eyes clear and intense that it left you speechless from where you stood.

"I-I," He gasps for air, eyebrows scrunching from the pain. "Help-I need—"

You wasted no time in aiding him as you took wide strides to his injured form, arms holding out to keep him steady as he began to wobble back and forth. You scream for your father, worried that the man before you would pass out at any moment.

Thankfully aware of the situation, your father prepares the receiving area. You look back at the injured patient with worry in your eyes as you further assess all sorts of damage on his figure.

However, you can't help but find yourself entranced by his clear blue eyes. Despite being on the brink of utter exhaustion, he has managed to keep himself awake perched up on your shoulder.

He locks eyes with you, blinking slowly, and just as you begin to get lost in those blue hues of his, his body begins to fall.

"Sir, wait—!"

Then he's out like a light.

The next time you met him had been purely coincidental.

After that night, the man left quietly like the leaves falling gently along the stream. He left quite a hefty sum of money on your father's desk and kept the bed clean at his departure. It's safe to say that your father was overjoyed by the payment.

Your father had sent you on an errand to town to gather some supplies from a supplier he trusts. He had been busy attending to patients and manning the counter to be the one to get the package himself.

"You have nothing better to do anyway, might as well be useful to your old dad," Your father scrunched his nose playfully as he placed a bag of money on your palms. "And if a man approaches you, remember to use that knife I gave you and make clean perforation at the jugular vein—"

You had stopped your father right there.

It didn't bother you that much and this also was an opportunity to get some leisure time. You did as you were told and saved a bit of money for window shopping.

Stumbling upon an artisan selling hair ornaments, your eyes immediately dart toward a golden hairpin with imitations of sakura leaves. Upon reaching out to inspect it, a hand collides with your own causing you to let out a gasp.

"Apologies—" Your eyes dart up to look at the stranger but is met instead with familiar blue eyes, this time under the disguise of orange tint sunglasses. "Oh! It's you."

The man furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "Are you Mr. Gojo's—?"

"Daughter?" You perk up with a smile. You shift from heel to heel at the intensity of his gaze. Somehow, you're feeling quite nervous with this gentleman. "Yeah. I caught you that night."

"Ah," The man nods, awkward in his stance before turning back toward the array of ornaments in front of him. "Thank you."

"I-It was no problem," You stammered, hands smoothing out the fabric of your kimono. "It's what we do after all."

There's a hum of response coming from the man before silence ensues between the two of you. He had gotten back to analyzing other items that the vendor was offering and you could only stand there, discreetly watching his every move.

You didn't have the opportunity to take a good look at him besides his eyes that night. Your father seemed like he had recognized the man before you and ushered you out of the room before you could have the chance to offer help. Though, now, you could see that he had a proportionate height—a few inches taller than you but still tall nonetheless. His shoulders evoke confidence with every move of his body but his face talks of the mystery hidden under the guise of his kasa. He was pretty, yet... handsome. You've never come across a man who could embody both sides of the spectrum.

"Do you need something?" His voice had startled you out of your daydream causing your cheeks to flush. He raises his eyebrow with his ever-perpetual glare. You give him a sheepish smile.

"I've never gotten your name, sir." You purse your lips, tilting your head as he squints his eyes at your request.

"My name? Why?"

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water at his response. Why? What does he mean why? This man was truly cynical, you think.

"Well, I saved you, didn't I?"

"Correction. Your father did." The man deadpans. You giggle at his tone, eyes crinkling in amusement.

"Alright, no need to get so philosophical with me," You jest, trying to get him to lighten up to you. You take a step closer, trying to gauge his expressions as you give him a lighthearted smile. "Is getting to know people a crime now?"

The man sighs before looking at the array of hair ornaments to your right. He then grabs the hairpin you were looking at and tosses a bag of coins toward the vendor. He places it within your palms before adjusting his cloak. You flinch at the sudden gesture, unaware of his intentions.

"It's Mizu." He says before turning and leaving without further explanation. You stand, agape as the man further blends in with crowd with each step he takes away from you.

This man—No, Mizu, surely is interesting.

This next meeting was one you were thankful of.

Now, it wasn't as if your meetings were solely limited by chance. He became a regular after your father's incredible work on him. You watch him arrive usually at the end of every week, either looking to restock the medicine that your father gave him or get himself treated for an unwanted injury.

You tried interacting with him during his visits but Mizu always either cut the conversation short or grunted in annoyance. He never tried to entertain much of your whims and only left you grasping at straws for whatever possible chance of interaction he might give you.

Although, despite being cold towards you, he still has the heart to help you in mundane tasks whenever he encounters the chance. For instance, upon seeing you struggling with the basin, he immediately walked over and carried to where your father is with ease. He also grabbed your freshly bought basket of fruits and guarded you on your way back home. He even thumped the back of your head lightly with his hand on his way out while you were fixing up the front.

He was an enigma. A puzzle you desperately tried to solve but always failed.

The thought of his gentlemanly actions had always left your heart thumping faster and louder within the confines of your chest. Wanting to know him, get closer to him, see the corners of his lips upturned—anything to see a version of him only you can keep.

It also seems that your father is familiar with his master. You hear talks between them, asking about the well-being of a man named 'Master Eiji', the one whom Mizu calls his swordfather. You ought to know better than to eavesdrop but somehow your attention has always been led towards his very existence.

Your father had always been strict about you ever since you were but a wee girl. He had expressed the importance of having a fruitful marriage with someone who is of your deserving. He, after all, was in a true love marriage with your mother and was together for at least 25 years before your mother succumbed to her illness at the age of 45.

It also didn't help that you were deemed the sunlight of the town, often getting several interested looks from promising men. But all your suitors couldn't take the intensity of your father's expectations. It's safe to say that you won't be getting married for awhile.

"Just stay here, my daughter," Your father sighs as he serves you seconds of your favorite food. "Who the hell cares about marriage anyway."

You laugh, reaching out to pat your old man's hand. "It's going to look bad for you if you don't marry off your one and only daughter, y'know?"

"That's precisely why I don't want to do any of that," Your father grumbles, taking a sip of his soup. "Work here, eat, sleep, go have fun. That's what your mother would've wanted anyway."

You were grateful for your circumstances, yes, but you've always wanted to help out as much as you can for your dad. His reputation as a skilled medic can only take so much before others will come to expect more. So as long as you're in his care, you try to help out around his shop as much as you can.

Although you wonder if your father would allow him to—

Ah, forget it. Convincing your father was a lost cause.

Back to the current task at hand, your father had tasked you to gather some herbs from the forest near your humble abode as it is less taxing for your finances when you have easy access to one nearby. Gearing up for the coldness of winter, you stepped out of your house in pursuit of such herbs. With a hop on your step, you wish to finish your task sooner than later to prepare for a certain gentleman possibly visiting later at night.

The only you thing you didn't account for was the possible danger you'd be encountering.

"Listen, I-I don't want any trouble," You slowly backed away as a group of men began surrounding you. It was uncommon to encounter bandits around this area as this was situated near the town. You're not so sure as to what prompted this criminals to stage a robbery in broad daylight.

"Oh, c'mon little miss," One of the bandits chuckled. He twirled a knife in his hand as he approached you menacingly. "We just wanna know what you're up to."

Your breath speeds up as one of his companions playfully advanced with a jump in his step. You flinched back, heartbeat thumping as the crunch of leaves around you signified their slow advance towards your figure. You clutched the knife your father gave you within your hands, ready to use it in case one of them tries something.

Jugular vein. Neck. Neck. Vein. Keep it fast. Right side.

"Perhaps we could do something fun, darling? I'm sure you'd love it." Wide grins and loud laughter erupted from their lips.

Vein. Lethal point. Could head straight through the liver. Artery. Perforation.

Your head had begun to ramble, your father's words echoing within the depths of your mind. Just as you adjusted your grip on your knife and one of the bandits had began to finally get whatever they aimed for in the first place, a breeze of wind suddenly alerted you of a new presence.

You shut your eyes in fear as one of the men at the far back screamed.

"What the fuck?!" The leader bellowed as he watched his man crumple to the ground, holding what was left of his dismembered arm. The other bandits begin turning towards the new opponent, swords ready as they watched him step over their comrade.

You open your teary eyes, locking gazes with the familiar hues of blue hidden under orange tint. There's some sort of hardened glare as Mizu looked at you up and down, assessing your well-being within a matter of seconds.

"This is Takayama's jurisdiction," Mizu's deep voice bellowed as he placed his hand on the scabbard of his sword. "I suggest you leave."

The leader lets out a scoff as he widens his shoulders to appear more menacing to him. Mizu only looks at him under the guise of his kasa.

"You are outnumbered, samurai," The man smirks. It might've been intimidating with the number of men that surrounded Mizu but you were well aware of his prowess as a swordsman and completely had faith in his abilities. "Your talks of dominance do not affect me."

Mizu chuckles, one hand reaching up to push back his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"We'll see about that."

"Thank you," You smile widely, eyes crinkling as you grab his extended hand.

The bandits groaned in pain as they crumbled to the ground. Some have even passed out from the harsh hits that Mizu had inflicted. You watched him twirl and move with elegance, slicing and hitting with precise angles that left you in awe at his performance.

It took at most 15 minutes for him to finish all of them and another 3 minutes for you to pick your jaw off the floor and fix yourself up.

"It's no problem," Mizu nods at your gratitude. He holds your hand firm as you wobble back and forth to stay back in balance. "Although, I advise that you venture towards areas within the town vicinity. This area is bordering outside of Takayama, thus the bandits."

"Ah," You let out a soft laugh. "There were more herbs here. I thought it was safe."

Mizu doesn't reply back as he gazes at you from the comforts of his glasses. You flush at his stare, still not being able to handle its intensity. You look down to busy yourself with, staring at your conjoined hands before finally taking notice of a scratch on the side of his hand to his wrist.

"You're injured," You whispered as you pulled his hand close to yours. You hear Mizu's breath hitch as he stumbles slightly at the pull of your hand. You look up at him as he furrows his eyebrows.

"I-It's fine, it doesn't hurt." He tries to reason with you but your grip on his hand remains steady.

"You saved me so I'll repay you by treating this. Alright?" You give him your best smile and suddenly the samurai doesn't have the heart in him to say no. At the sound of his reluctant silence, you enthusiastically pull out your satchel filled with medicinal tools. It was handy that you always kept your tools with you no matter where you went.

You applied antiseptic, brushing it with a clean cloth along the wound. Whether Mizu felt the pain or not, he only remained as still as a rock while you worked.

"You're early today," You try to make conversation as you clean his wound up. Mizu stays silent for a few seconds before replying.

"I had free time," He says. "I... was also out of medicine so..."

You hum, nodding along his words as you make gentle strokes to ease the pain (if he ever felt it).

"If you ever need to go out like this again," He picks up the conversation making your heart skip a beat. There's a pause of silence before he continues. "Let me—If I'm there, let me know. You don't need to endanger yourself like this."

You let out a quiet laugh as you finally wrapped his wound with a white strip of cloth. You look at him with softened eyes, reveling in his slightly flushed cheeks and gaze dulled by sincerity. There's a pause of comfortable silence between the two of you, only lost in each other's gazes.

You slowly reach out, hands pausing as you communicate a request for consent. Mizu only gives you a small nod before you reach out to pull off his glasses. Those same beautiful blue orbs stare back at you as you revel in their gaze.

"You're more handsome like this," You whisper as you take a step closer to him. Snow gently falls around you, cascading in gentle flow as you breathe out puffs of air. Mizu tilts his head with an upturn of the corner of his lips.

There it is.

You flush in his gaze as he reaches up to brush a stray hair away from your face. "You're jesting," He says with a quiet tone.

Your gaze at him doesn't waver. "I'd say yes if you asked me to marry you."

Mizu let's out a chuckle, eyebrow raised at your bold response. "You are one dangerous lady, Y/N. Does your father know that?"

You roll your eyes at him. "How could he know when all he does is keep men away from me," You tilt your head playfully, "Although, I do wonder why he often keeps you close. Perhaps, he's found you to be worthy of a man."

Mizu laughs at your praises, shoulders shaking as the two of you stand close to one another, basking in the soft breeze of the winter sky. He lifts his hand up and flicks your forehead. You flinch back, holding your forehead in pain as you give him a glare.

"Ow?!" You frown as he looks at you with a smirk on his lips. "What a way to turn off a lady!"

"You're too adorable to be a lady," Mizu teases as he crosses his arms over his chest. He tilts his head as he looks at you with squinted eyes in thought. "Kind of like a.... puppy."

Your jaw drops at his comparison causing him to release a few chuckles. It wasn't fair that he was out here causing poor things to your heart and raised by a father who was direct and determined to achieve the things he wanted in life, you didn't allow yourself to back down.

With wide strides, you easily reach where he stands before standing on your toes and grabbing his face as you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"Wha-?!" His face flushes a deep red as he moves back holding his cheek. You flash him a cheeky grin as he looks at you with wide eyes.

"I'll be waiting for your proposal, Mizu," You giggle, swaying back and forth with your hands tucked behind you. You put on his glasses before leaning slightly forward with eyes squinted playfully. "Or shall I be the one to propose, hm? Seeing as your blushing from just a kiss on the cheek."

Mizu takes a few seconds before collecting himself. There's an unreadable look on his face before makes careful steps towards you. You watch him, curious as he stops in front of you—hand reaching out to pull his glasses off from your face. You expect him to start berating you for invading his space but what you received after was certainly something you never took into account.

He leans down and gingerly places a kiss on your lips. Your breath hitches as he presses himself close before pulling away all to fast. Your lips tingle as you watch him put on his glasses back with a smile.

"I'm no coward, Y/N," He adjusts your cloak as you remain speechless in front of him. "I don't make promises I can't keep."

And just as he enters, he walks off with quiet footsteps, leaving you grasping at whatever was left of your brain after what he just did. Your face flushes a deep red as your fingertips touches your lips with shaky movements.

Did this man just—

"Are you coming?!" He calls over from the dirt path back to your house. You stumble in your footing as you rush over to him.

"I-I'm coming!" You stammer as you gather your things and rushed towards him. He greets you with a smile and this time with his glasses tucked away. Blue hues greet your flushed form and suddenly an overwhelming realization washes over you.

Oh, I'm definitely not going to let this man go.

a/n: MY WIFE MIZU MY WIFEEE,,,,, planning to make a pt2 idk lemme guys know if u want one. will also fix my archive, tumblr's getting messy. NOT PROOFREAD but will fix if ever i do go back on this after my finals. HOPE YALL ENJOYED THIS!

[harrowing-of-hell]

i've been meaning to talk about the scene where cytherea's body shows up underneath harrow's bed, and the whole "is she actually there or not?" question, because many people seem convinced that ianthe was gaslighting harrow and i genuinely don't think she has any reason to do so. the scene itself is deliberately ambiguous for several reasons. the most obvious is that harrow hallucinates. she knows this. the audience knows this. this is precisely why she seeks out ianthe in the middle of the night, because harrow doesn't trust her own senses.

harrow also used bone to shackle cytherea's body to the floor— and yet her body somehow disappears from underneath the bed without breaking these shackles. initially, this would indicate cytherea's body is another hallucination.

however, we also know that there's something weird going on: for some unexplained reason, cytherea's body apparently doesn't trigger blood wards.

after cytherea's body goes missing, it also can't be detected by john or found anywhere on the mithraeum.

one possibility is that cytherea's body is negating magic somehow. her body is being necromantically preserved by john and thus her body is imbued with john's magic. that may be why wake can move around in it completely undetected by john himself, and also may be why she is able to bypass blood wards and other types of necromancy.

but again, no concrete answers are given, and any ideas or claims are just pure speculation. all we know is that cytherea's body has been able to do weird things and avoid detection, so it's not exactly unreasonable that, if she was underneath the bed, she may have been able to escape the the shackles somehow.

additionally, though i'm not at all inclined to believe this, we also can't rule out the possibility that both of these appearances of wake-in-cytherea's-body were hallucinations and the only time harrow really saw her was in the incinerator room when she was trying to kill g1deon.

at the end of HtN, gideon claims that cytherea's body was obviously there, but she isn't reliable because she only has access to harrow's memories. she would recall that situation as harrow did, meaning she would remember any hallucinations harrow was experiencing. unlike harrow herself, gideon doesn't doubt harrow's experiences, but harrow feels the need to confirm whether she's hallucinating when it's not already obvious to her that this is the case.

and then there's ianthe, who's behavior during this scene is weird:

ianthe says very little during this entire scene before leaving harrow's bedroom, and i think this is deliberate, only meant to make it more ambiguous as to whether the body under the bed is actually there or not.

but it's actually because of ianthe's behavior here that i believe that harrowhark seeing cytherea's body underneath the bed was an hallucination.

there are other times where ianthe comments on harrow's psychosis:

in both of these situations, she's not nice about it! in fact, ianthe takes the opportunity to insult harrow or question whether harrow's actually seeing the things that she's seeing.

importantly, her behavior in these two instances is very different from what she does when harrow tells her to look at cytherea's body underneath the bed and touch it. ianthe doesn't insult harrow at all or call her "crazycakes" or "mad", just asks if harrow's been sleeping, says good night, and walks away.

i think that this is because ianthe gets really uncomfortable whenever she's confronted with harrowhark being in undeniably vulnerable positions.

when she sees harrow bloody and naked after being attacked by g1deon, she brushes it off by essentially going "yikes", but the fact that she makes no attempt to help harrow recover from the attack and hastily walks away from the sight of harrow's maimed body is very telling.

her walking away is so unexpected that i've seen several people say that they're not sure why ianthe didn't take that as an opportunity to manipulate harrow (even harrow expected it to happen, and welcomed it). and yeah, from what we see of her character in HtN up until this scene, it does seem ooc for her to just walk away with nothing but a quippy comment.

but to understand her behavior i think it's important to note that ianthe does see harrow as an equal! at any given opportunity she brings up the similarities between herself and harrowhark. ianthe also does this because she's down bad, but regardless, she would never equivocate herself to someone who she thinks is lesser than her.

i also don't think she would do this if she didn't care about harrow— and she does care about harrow! she was genuinely happy to see harrow was alive before realizing that it wasn't harrow but gideon-in-harrow's-body. at the beginning of HtN she kneels before harrowhark in "unmistakable supplication" and looks at her with "half-beseeching, half-contemptuous despair" as she offers to help defend harrow's body once they go into the river to fight the RB.

ianthe has no reason to gaslight harrowhark for fun the night before the RB is supposed to attack. she incessantly taunts harrowhark with her impending death all throughout HtN, but she doesn't actually want harrowhark to die. gaslighting and destabilizing harrow further when harrow is already likely to die directly goes against this desire.

imo ianthe does enjoy having someone rely on her and is willing to be manipulative to achieve that, but i think she relied on harrow just as much as harrow relied on her. in HtN, harrow is very much filling the coronabeth shaped hole in ianthe's life and i don't think ianthe would risk losing that.

that's all to say, i think it's precisely because ianthe sees harrow as an equal and cares about her in her own fucked up way that, when faced with harrow's vulnerability, her immediate reaction is to brush it off and help harrow save face by walking away from the situation.

ianthe views vulnerability as a weakness and thus thinks she is doing harrow a favor by walking away from harrow in her times of weakness and making no further comment about it. it's like how many people react when they see a stranger crying it public; they would feel similarly embarrassed to be seen crying in a public space, so their way of helping that person is to ignore the fact that they're crying and prevent them from experiencing further embarrassement. she would want harrow to ignore her moments of weakness, and so in turn, she ignores harrow's moments of weakness.

in a way this is kinda how they show solidarity to each other in HtN; despite how they threaten each other with death, harrow defends ianthe when she's struggling to use her rapier arm, keeps ianthe's secrets, never explicitly mentions that ianthe cries at night to anyone (actually i think there are several scenes where harrow suspects ianthe has been crying, and she doesn't mention it aloud). in turn, ianthe thinks it best to not acknowledge or make it known that harrow experiences hallucinations. they know they're both in shit positions and aren't trying to deliberately make it worse for each other.

this is ultimately why i think ianthe wasn't lying when she said she didn't see cytherea's body; she not only has zero reason to do so outside of "for fun", but destabilizing harrowhark further would go against the fact that she wants harrow to survive the RB fight. ianthe's behavior when harrow asks her to look underneath the bed is also directly in line with the other occasion in which she has to interact with harrowhark in an extremely vulnerable moment: she seems incredibly dismissive of the situation, and then walks away.

[transformers-spike]

After the autobots eating puss hc I AM BEGGING for the Decepticons counterpart. Please please please pleaseeeeee I need my evil boys and girls eating pussy and eating it GOOD

Will be doing the cons I've seen until now in the show. So sorry Shockwave, you gotta wait this out.

Dreadwing is, to put it simply, horrible at eating out. Please don’t hold it against him, he wasn’t exactly out there back on Cybertron, and things got even worse when he was cooped up in his spaceship hunting down Autobots and Wreckers. Can he even remember when he last ate valve? Probably, Cybertronians have better memories than humans, but there’s no way he doesn’t cringe inside recalling the event. He has no idea what he’s doing, he’s the furthest thing from a Casanova, the antithesis of a sex god. Show him some mercy and give him instructions, he’ll listen to them as best he can, you just wish he would go harder and stop holding back like you’re made of glass. To be fair, by Cybertronian standards you’re extremely fragile, but… you trust him enough not to kill you with his glossa. It’s all awkward licks without your input, staring down at your pussy like it’s a bomb he has to defuse, and it’s not very sexy when he’s analyzing your genitals instead of eating you out. He can treat you like a gentlebot as much as he wants, protectively cupping you in his servo while on his knees, bringing your little body to his intake and ex-venting against it, leaving shivers down your spine. But the second he gets to work it feels like you bought a vibrator on Temu and received a bootleg PS5 controller. Either you beat the circumstances and cum against his face, or you make no progress in the span of hours. Cut the guy some slack, he’s trying his best to please.

Skyquake has the opposite problem. No, sadly not in the sense that he can tongue fuck you until you see Primus and get a drawn out “Nice” from their God/Creator/Dad. Bad cunnilingus runs in the family. The issue is, he’s too rough. If it’s not the general glossa to clit action, it’s the way he’s holding you in his servos, digits wrapped too tightly around your itty bitty body, enough to make you wince. He will adjust his grip if asked, but don’t expect him to remember during the entire act. You offer a prayer to the fallen Cybertronians who had their anterior nods bitten off by a walking jet with no chill. Squirm too much and he’ll assume he’s doing a good job, beg him to stop and he’ll take it as encouragement to keep overstimulating you. Except it’s not overstimulation – oh no. He’s turning your pussy numb faster than you can say “I wish it was your brother”. He’s well-meaning, just too intense for your own good. You have to treat him like a rescue, lure him in with treats and train him to stop biting you at random intervals. If you manage, he’ll lower his aggression, if only a little bit, and he’ll try being more mindful of your reaction, shedding his one track mind for a night or two. There are complicated cases, then there’s Starscream who, like the drama queen he is, has to be number one in avoiding your genitals like the plague until he feels safe enough to give them a try. Ironic since he can shishkebab you with those giant claws, but dude needs to trust you enough if he’s going to stick his glossa between your folds. Worst thing is; he’s good. Not just good, but fantastic at eating out. Who fucking knows how many Cybertronians had their valves ruined at his servos, but you have to earn your keep, make it to the top of his most trusted list and reap your reward. He enjoys the act, leaning all casually against a wall with you in his servos, keeping your thighs apart with two sharp as steel digits; applying languid licks to your pussy until you’re shaking in his gentle grip. Buck into him, he encourages it, it feeds into his ego, and by Primus the more praise you slather onto your words the better he does. Give him any kind of appreciation and he’s clinging onto it like the holy grail. He gets off on pushing you to your limits, having you beg for more as he assures you in a silky voice that you will get your dues soon. Absolute 10/10, do recommend.

Soundwave does not possess a proper “mouth” by human standards, doubtful he even had one when he was forged. But he has a sort of… throat intake for lack of a better word which he uses to refuel. Fear not fellow robot-fuckers! He makes up for what he lacks in other ways, mainly making proper use of his tentacle-like cables, each possessing a number of thin wires. Under usual circumstances, he uses them to connect to machinery or, in case he needs an extra oomf during a brawl, lights his opponent the fuck up with one billion volts of pure ass-kicking electricity. Now, don’t worry, Soundwave isn’t planning on turning your pussy into a death row inmate. He’s got enough control over his own frame to avoid this worst case scenario, and he’s certainly not clumsy enough to accidentally fry your pussy like a thanksgiving turkey. Those wires feel way too good inside of you, dragging across your clit with ease and squirming between your folds like miniature tentacles. The whole ordeal is akin to a consensual hentai experience with no need to yamete kudasai him; he can gauge your reaction on his own. After all, as the Intelligence Officer, deciphering body language is a must.

If you're letting Airachnid eat you out, you have no survival instincts. I'm not saying you're an idiot, but you're widely overestimating her “kindness”. Let's all take a moment of silence for the fallen valves of innocent Cybertronians. If and only if she has the barest sliver of empathy, she's going to torture your pussy until you're a crying mess caught in her web, without turning you into her newest trophy once the deed is done. At least not a dead trophy, because once she gets her servos on your squishy little human body, you belong to her, a hypothetical deal with spider Satan in exchange for the best head of your life. She's cruel in every sense of the word, but her talent at pushing you to the brink of insanity leaves you willing to risk everything, including your genitals, in this one sided power dynamic. Bound in her web, she delights in ghosting her digits over your throat, pushing down just enough to remind you of your place in this bargain. She can end your precious organic life whenever she pleases, mixing fear with pleasure as she presses her lips to your pussy.

Breakdown is a special case, always has been. Among the vast majority of Decepticons, he doesn't aim to make you beg, nor to destroy your sense of self with his glossa. He's just… a guy, completely normal next to the others, and this, ironically enough, makes him stand out. He's good at what he does, not mind-blowing by any means, just average. He has practiced enough with valves and made his partners overload plenty of times. A pussy is small, sure, but he's had minicons before, you're in safe servos here; and he’s not rusty at it either, he's one of the very few Cybertronians on Earth who frags on the regular (in no small thanks to Knock Out). Contrary to what his status indicates, he's more than just the “smash your opponents into scrap” soldier. It feels nice to lower his inner walls around someone other than his partner. There’s a major difference between the self-assured intimidation he wants to exude and the softness he craves. As such, shows exceptional gentleness handling you, cupping you in his huge servos or, if you're a daredevil, holding your hips with two massive digits as you grind your pussy against his intake. 

“Cute,” he thinks as you hump his face like an overly territorial parakeet. You may be a little shit, but you’re his little shit that he pampers and pleasures until you mellow out and relax against his chassis.

Knock Out fucks. End of discussion. He FUCKS. He has fragged on Cybertron, he's fragging on the Nemesis, you cannot stop him. Am I exaggerating? Possibly, but Knock Out is a young Cybertronian with the libido of an unneutered bull, so of course he can eat pussy. Issue is, he's smug about it, teasing you with the tip of his glossa until you beg him to put in some actual effort. He draws out your pleading until you have tears in your eyes, then he grants you the orgasm you've been dying for. Have fun being handled like a particularly juice push pop candy, you must sacrifice your dignity for robot cunnilingus. Knock Out may want you to assume he's a natural at human pussy, but the truth is; he's been googling the topic nonstop like a horny 14 year old on his dad's computer. He actively wants you to believe it’s an effortless task, you have no idea how much time and effort he puts into researching the topic, all for your admiration. Now please, give it to him, especially after all this hard work. Just don’t mention how you glimpsed his internet history.

Calling Megatron intimidating would be an understatement. Sharp denta don’t mesh well with pussy, nor does an ex-gladiator current warlord with your squishy body. But he “begs” to differ. Head from this bitch is the equivalent of sticking your entire hand in the jaws of a rabid rottweiler; you can do nothing but pray he doesn’t bite down. You’re the dumb little fleshling who found itself in his grasp, and he’s not letting go anytime soon. Human pussy is infinitely more fragile than Cybertronian valve, and he makes sure to remind you by skimming his jagged denta over your thighs. You’re caged in his servo, arms squeezed at your sides as you let the tyrant savor you to the last drop, leering down at you with half-lidded optics. He looks like he’s about to bite a chunk out of your private bits, and the fear makes you taste all the sweeter. Unscrupulous as he is, he has no shame stroking his spike during the act, growling between your legs promises of what’s to come. If you’ve survived this long, Megatron values you to a self-indulgent degree. Keep back and let his glossa drag you to the highest highs and the lowest lows, it’s not like you can do anything between those claws. He treats you as he pleases, but what pleases him most is making you cry out and twist in his grasp from overstimulation alone. Humans are so terribly sensitive.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Kiss it Better Pt:3

Curly x Reader

AN: I am just speechless. All this support is making me tear up. Like holy shit. Thank you. Don’t worry! When this finishes(god idk how it will I’m making up as I go since yall want more chapters) I’ll make sure to post it to AO3 for easier access! Just thank you again! And uh. Don’t forget I have a Kofi and Wishlist if you wanna like tip or something. NO PRESSURE! Just a reminder to anyone who WANTS and CAN! You come first! Just. Thank you again!

SUM: You couldn’t sleep, so you try and remember things with Curly to lull you to sleep. As you do, you remember things that are important for a captain to have. Very important, and you are gonna be certain to find them

Warnings: Jimmy, sexual assault, mentions of abortion (it’s a rather calm chapter really. Take it as a pallet cleanser because the next chapter imma really show you how fucked up Jimmy is))

You just couldn’t sleep. It felt criminal to right now. So much was going through your head. So much has happened and now you had time to let it all soak in. The crash, Anya, why there was a crash, Curly’s condition, it made sleep impossible. Especially alone in that big bed that was meant for you and your husband.

You tried to take in deep breaths, and just let the thoughts wash over you. There was responsibility as the Captains Spouse. You weren’t just ‘eye candy’ like Jimmy said. You had worth, and were just as much important to the team as everyone else.

Such as learning a thing or two about what Captain should do in case of an emergency.

Curly was in no state to help, and Jimmy sure as fuck won’t help either. He was the reason everyone crashed after all. He’s a loose cannon and you needed to tip toe around him. Who knows what he might do next. You weren’t even sure if telling Swansea and Daisuke about what’s going on was smart.

Swansea has little girls of his own after all. He won’t react well at all. Then there’s Daisuke. Barely nineteen and thrown into this mess. He might panic or maybe even do something crazy like confront Jimmy. There was just to many what ifs.

So you were left on your own.

You would wrap yourself up in what was once Curly’s sleep robe and grab his spare ID card. The very thing that can unlock any door, and be the one thing that can lock your bedroom door. Definitely should have Anya sleep in here for a while. She deserves to be able to sleep soundly.

While you were waiting for everyone to sleep as well you would explore the bedroom. Looking into nook and cranny to see if there was anything of use. The Captains always were given a bunch of extra shit after all. Even Pony Express had to meet some safety protocols. Curly was their best after all. Even went as far as to try and help him fine work else where. That’s what he explained to you.

Shame. Was just a normal bedroom. The only thing that made it special was it was bigger, and had a lock. Dammit all to hell.

That’s when you tried to think back on past memories of you and your husband. To try and recall any kind of special thing the ships carry. Oh how you felt so guilty for never paying enough attention. Made you feel stupid and useless, but you weren’t.

At least not in comparison to Jimmy.

With a deep breath, you managed to recall something. Something not long before the crash even. You had knocked on the cockpit door to enter it, and was greeted to your husband and Jimmy working. Curly was rambling on about something, while Jimmy kept eyeing the locker suspiciously. As if he wanted to get inside of it for some reason.

That’s your best lead now. God dammit was it a shitty one. The cockpit was stuffed to the brim with foam. But then again that’s the front of the cockpit. If you were careful, and cut the right spot, maybe you can access the locker.

It’s something. Something is better than nothing.

With the robe tossed aside, a change into your jump suit, gloves slipped on, and beanie pulled on to keep your head safe you would make your way to the kitchen. Card key tucked securely inside of your jumpsuit compared to a pocket.

Jimmy can’t know.

Can’t know that you were stealing the only knife that the ship had.

Was going to be a pain in the ass to cut that foam but you really had nothing better to do. So, you unlocked the cock pit and focused on remembering its layout.

“For Anya, for Curly, for Swansea, for Daisuke, and all our families back home.”

You would start the slow and agonizing cutting. Little by little. Just chopping away to try and reach the right side of the pit. To get to that locker and see what was inside. That locker was in the cockpit for a reason. It can only be accessed by the pilots for a reason. There was a reason.

Any time you felt like your arms would give out you thought back to Curly. How he didn’t really have arms anymore to begin with. How Anya was busy throwing up right now. How they needed you. They both needed you.

It had been well over a hour, but you managed to reach the locker. You allowed yourself a breather at the sight of it. Damn was that a pain, but it’ll be worth it. Right?

With your breather over you would use the key card to access the locker. Inside was….Honestly junk. That had you very disappointed. You were honestly ready to cry out of frustration, only to see there were a few locked cabinets inside.

Ones that needed codes.

Codes you knew.

Curly made you memorize them in case of an emergency. He just said to memorize them. That it’s meant to just unlock pin pads. That Pony Express never bothered to change them.

You went to the lower locker and typed it in.

Strange, there was nothing inside. Suppose whatever was inside was taken out. You wondered what could have been in there. Was a very small locker so maybe it was some code scanner or universal unlocking device. Just wasn’t big enough for something you hoped for.

A transmitter.

He prayed it was near the front of the ship. That a transmitter would stuck in the heart of the foam, or as far as just shatter on contact. They had to have a spare communicator. Pony Express had to follow SOME rules after all. Imagine the ship being discovered and the people who found it saw it was missing something as important as that.

So you typed in the code for the larger locker. You were kinda afraid of opening it. To be met with another empty void of metal and dust.

You took a deep breath, and opened.

There really was a god.

There was what you were looking for. A real deal communicator. It was real, it looked untouched and even had dust on it to show that Jimmy never reached it.

Before you grabbed it you made sure to close the door behind you. Just to be sure. Was the dead of night, well from what the clocks say, and everyone should be asleep. Even Jimmy had to sleep. You had to make you move now.

Remain calm, and focus.

You can’t fuck this up.

You snuggled yourself into the corner of the pit, with the communication device in your lap. You hooked the head phones onto your head, and turned it on.

As you waited for it to boot up you made sure you were positioned so that if anyone came through the door, for some reason, you’ll notice. As far as anyone was aware though this room was basically a wall. No purpose to enter. You should be safe, but you had to think ahead. Jimmy was unpredictable, and so full of himself.

Better to be over prepared than see what happens if Jimmy finds out what you are doing.

Couldn’t help but give a squeak of surprise when someone finally spoke to you.

“This is the Emergency Spaceship Retrieval Sector. What seems to be the problem?”

A woman, through the static, spoke to you. Tears of relief fell down your face but you forced yourself to remain focused. You can’t mess this up now. No way no how.

“This is Tulpar for Pony Express. We have suffered a crash about a month ago. From what I can recall we had been a little over four months into our twelve month journey-“ You immediately explained, as to best help them get an estimation on how far the ship had traveled.

“Alright, who may I be speaking to at this moment?”

Deep breaths.

“I am the Spouse to Captain Curly. It is me, Jimmy the co-pilot, Anya the nurse, Swansea the mechanic, and Daisuke our intern.” Deep breaths, keep things quick and to the point.

“Are you all in any immediate danger?”

You had to think about that a moment. Jimmy is a dangerous man. Who knows what he might do next if you don’t play along. So, you had to be honest. You felt guilty for telling the operator what happened. That Curly suffered greatly and needed immediate medical attention, how Anya was a victim of assault and required an abortion as soon as possible, and that the reason for it all was because of Jimmy. He crashed the ship, he raped Anya, he destroyed Curly, and god knows what he will do next.

“Estimated arrival time will be about a month. We have your exact location thanks to the communicator. Remain calm, and know that help is on the way. We have logged this down in the report. Take care of your crew the best you can, Captain.”

And she would log off. You would let your head thump back, and simply cried. Cried in pure relief and joy. That a real person heard you, and was aware of what’s going on. That if anything did go wrong that at least someone knows. Someone will know what happened.

There was hope.

Now was a matter of survival.

One month.

You all needed to survive one month.

One Month Until Rescue…

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@dinkyzoop @danart501 @spudfromspace @niyamamiya

[samuelsdean]

Who Needs Time Management When I Have You?

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: one of the many perks of having a boyfriend with flawless memory is that you do not have to remember stuff—he remembers them for you.

genre: tooth-rotting domestic fluff

word count: 1.5k

author's notes: i wrote this because domestic!spencer reid is a guilty pleasure of mine. i can definitely picture him as an attentive boyfriend because aside from the fact that he has flawless memory, he's an overall caring guy. with that said, i hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this!

ONE OF THE MANY PERKS OF HAVING A BOYFRIEND WITH FLAWLESS MEMORY IS THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE TO REMEMBER STUFF—HE REMEMBERS THEM FOR YOU. Do you have a dentist's appointment at 9? Covered. He will be waking you up at 7 with breakfast in bed. Your sister’s birthday is coming up. No worries! He has already ordered a bouquet ready to be sent on the day. It is amazing, and you thank your lucky stars for him every morning when you wake up and see him cozily sleeping beside you.

However, you were out of luck on the boyfriend angle today. You had your monthly—or if the BAU is free—girls' night scheduled tonight. As much as you enjoy having girls' nights with the BAU girls, Spencer also likes to spend some time out with the guys for a nightcap or something, whatever the men at the BAU enjoy when there is no case. And that means, your boyfriend is busy getting ready to go out as well. Although Spencer has never forgotten a thing in his life—even when he is on the brink of life and death—you do not want to stress him out even more by asking him what you think you have forgotten to prepare.

So, today when you were running around the house like a madman trying to collect the stuff you need to bring to Garcia’s for girls' night, you have no one else to blame but yourself. You have depended on your boyfriend to remember stuff for you that you always leave the preparation at the very last minute. At the moment, you believe you’ve never hated yourself as much as you did now, which is quite the feat considering that you’ve hated yourself a lot before for chickening out on confessing your feelings to boy wonder—your boyfriend, Spencer Reid—only to find out he shares the same feelings.

Scratch that, you hate your boyfriend right now more than you hate yourself.

Currently, that same boyfriend has been snickering nonstop at you dashing left and right and gathering the things you need to bring. Face masks? Check. Wine? Check. What else were you forgetting?

“You know, there’s this study that says only 82% of people have a time management system.” 

Your ever-loving boyfriend, Spencer, decided to share. You were about to chuck the throw pillow at him because you could hear the I told you so in his voice, but you knew his fact-sharing and nagging was his unique way of saying, “I love you, but you could’ve remedied this problem by preparing the stuff you’ll need the night before.”

“No, I don’t, Spence. But, do tell.” 

At this point, you’re pretty sure Spencer was sporting a shit-eating grin and was probably holding in a laugh at the strain in your voice from recalling whether you’ve got everything so you can head over to Garcia’s. You’re pretty sure Garcia is about to talk your ear off if you’re running late. You missed out on the last girls' night after you bailed on them, wanting to spend the night with Spencer, watching Star Wars, and eating takeout.

“There's a survey done recently which revealed that 90% of people say better time management can lead to increased productivity.” Spencer started explaining, hands waving around as if to demonstrate the numbers in front of him. “However, only 18% of people have a proper time management system.”

“And?” 

“Well, it just reminded me of you.” Spencer pursed his lips now, as he tried to explain his thoughts without annoying you. “If you just had a proper time management system like a to-do list or a planner. You could save at least..” He stared at his watch and did the math, “You could save at least one hour and forty-three minutes of your time instead of panicking over whether you got all the things you need for girls' night.”

“I don’t need that when I have you. Don’t you think so?”

This made your boyfriend blush, and you giggled, heading towards his direction, so you could wrap your hands around his waist and bury your face into his chest. You were the luckiest person alive for getting to date someone as wonderful as Spencer.

What you just said would not have made anyone flush and nervous, but Spencer was different. You knew he’s never been in a formal relationship with anyone before you. Thus, from time to time, he still gets embarrassed by your antics which you’ll always be endeared by. You live to see your boyfriend getting flustered because it gives you a reason to shower him with affection like now.

“I love you too, Spence.”

You looked up at your boyfriend, who looked like he was about to burst from your directness. You and he may deal with a lot of blood and gore during work, but he can be the most fainthearted person alive when it came to your affections.

“B-but I didn’t say I love you..” He trailed off, confused as to why you were suddenly proclaiming your love for him. You grinned even more as you pinched the tip of his nose.

“You didn’t have to, Spence. I know your nagging is one way of you saying you love me, and I love you for that.” 

Spencer scrunched his nose and rubbed the back of his neck out of shyness. If you could keep him in your pocket for safekeeping, you would. He’s just too precious for this world.

“But, as much as I love you, I know just as much that Penelope will have my ass kicked by Emily if I get to her house late,” you broke free from your boyfriend’s comfy arms, checking the bags you packed while doing so. “I have to go, baby. I think I got everything I need.”

Picking up your bag and care package, you ruffled your boyfriend’s brown locks, which made him frown a bit and sigh. You snickered at his reaction and proceeded to walk towards the front door. You were about to reach the staircase just outside your shared apartment when you realized something. 

You forgot your car keys.

Berating yourself in your head, you were certain once you entered that door, Spencer would be on your case like a mother duck. He can be too fretful when it comes to you. Oh well, that is one thing you love about him. Huffing, you slowly turned the doorknob and found Spencer leaning on the wall just inside the door with his arms crossed, looking at you smugly. You rolled your eyes.

One thing about Spencer Reid is he can be a cocky little shit when proven right. And that happens most—if not all—the time, with his IQ of 187 and eidetic memory. Unfortunately for him, he also happened to date a cocky little shit—you—who likes to fluster the living lights out of him. And right now, you just thought of the perfect way to get back at him.

But first, your car keys. Spencer next.

Once you have retrieved the pesky item—like it’s the car keys’ fault, you forgot to get them—you turned towards the door, not paying any attention to your boyfriend, who was already cracking up at you. Only when you’ve reached the door, your back towards Spencer, did you smirk. Oh, he’ll never know what’s coming to him. You did a U-turn and 

“Forgot something, sweetheart?”

“Why, yes I did, Dr. Reid,” you stated plainly, beelining towards him, making him take a few steps back until he ended up with his back against the wall. He's so easy to fluster. "I forgot to do this."

You slanted your head and pressed your lips against his. Your bodies were snug against each other as you kissed heatedly against the wall. You could feel the flutter of his long lashes against your cheeks as he parted his lips slightly to kiss you deeper. You could taste your shared breath, smell his faint perfume, and feel the slight scruff of a stubble about to show up. Warmth blossomed in your chest when you felt Spencer caress your face as if you were fine porcelain.

Kissing Spencer Reid never gets old in your books. Despite his lack of romantic experience and being the eager researcher that he was, Spencer was an eager lover—he would kiss you every chance he'd get to know how to please you, which paid off, by the way. This may be a biased opinion but you think the best kisses you have shared were with Spencer.

However, like all good things, kissing Spencer has to end, or Garcia will have you banned from her house for running late.

You pulled away from Spencer and grinned at him, to which he returned with a stunned smile. You chuckled when you noticed your lipstick smudged on the corner of his lips and brushed a finger to erase it. You wouldn't want your boyfriend to be the subject of Morgan's teasing once they're together after this. Noticing the daze your boyfriend is under is about to wear off, and he was about to say something, you beat him to it by pressing a smooch on his nose and pulling away completely. 

"I gotta go, Dr. Reid. Don't miss me too much!"

You scampered towards the door and shot a wink at your bewildered boyfriend—who was now sputtering in indignation for interrupting what he was about to say. He is so cute.

[lucysarah-c]

Scratches down his back

Summary: Repeat after me, nothing good happens in the common showers unless it’s Levi sandwiching you with the wet wall. Sadly, this is not the case. So, nothing good will happen.  Author's Note: I'm revisiting this piece, my second-ever Levi fanfiction, after Tumblr inexplicably removed it. I've made a few alterations, so if you recall the original, you might notice some differences. I've attempted to recreate it to the best of my memory. Despite initially intending it to be full NSFW, I've reconsidered; it doesn't quite match the tone I'm aiming for. This leans more towards being a Crack fic than an NSFW one. Warning: This story contains suggestive themes but nothing explicit. Word Count: 2.8k

She lotioned up, fingers deftly twisting and knotting the towel around her body to keep it from slipping. Annoying groans echoed in the humid tiled space as she struggled to finish her routine while maintaining modesty and not taking up too much space. 

"Holy Sheena," a voice called from her right, making her turn around hastily. 

"What?" she responded. 

Hange walked closer, seeming less concerned about covering up after coming out of the shower. "Those bruises... tell Shorty he's supposed to fuck you, not try to kill you," they joked. 

She sighed intently and found the well-marked fingertips around her hips, washing away marks around her wrists and the obvious hickeys and bite marks on her inner thighs and lower collarbone to conceal them from daily life. Y/N couldn't help but chuckle. 

"Forgot I had those," she commented, momentarily happy before furrowing her brow again. "I can't find anything here!" 

The former HQ of the scouts lacked a pumping water system, everything (despite her boyfriend's attempts) smelled of mold and humidity. The place was freezing due to the tall ceilings and lack of proper insulation, especially in the middle of the forest where temperatures dropped the lowest. Having to shower there, under shaky candlelight, with buckets of water and a cup to pour it on her body was a nightmare. 

"How could you forget?" Hange seemed less stressed about the shower situation, either because they had fewer steps in their routine or because they were less ashamed. 

"I got used to it, and I usually don't share bathrooms, so no one can see me naked," she explained, searching among her personal hygiene items for the next step in her routine. "I forgot how impractical communal showers were." 

"Ah, yes, because you and your hubby have all the space for yourselves," the brunette joked, making kissing sounds to annoy her further. 

"You're just jealous that my love life is very active," she retorted. 

"Don't point those fingers at me, save those assumptions for Erwin," Hange teased. 

Their banter made her laugh and nod slightly in agreement. "Speaking of which, did he send you here to help with something?" 

"Supervise a bit of the situation for him and fill out reports for the MPs and the military board," Y/N explained casually as she started to put on comfy clothes. 

"So, basically... a conjugal visit so Levi doesn't get blue balls," They quipped. 

Coughing loudly as the foam from the toothpaste made her choke in shock, she spat into the sink before looking up, blushing deeply. "HANGE!" 

The squad leader chuckled, unfazed by the outburst. "Your marks tell me I'm right. You arrived last night, and he jumped on you like a beast in heat." 

She scoffed, not saying a word as her mouth was still full of toothpaste. Frowning slightly at the squad leader and shooting them an askance look, but Hange didn't seem offended, taking the conversation lightheartedly. 

As they finished their dental routines, Y/N was surprised by Hange's efficiency. They clearly had different notions of after-shower routines. 

"Don't be so hard on him," Y/N defended her boyfriend tenderly as she rinsed the toothpaste residue. "He's stressed about the whole Titan boy situation. He needed to unwind." 

Both walked out of the room lethargically, as if neither had anywhere urgent to be. "That's the excuse Shorty gave you? But if Eren is so meek around Levi..." Hange argued back between chuckles. 

The empty corridors of the former HQ made her shiver, quickly losing the warmth of the shower as they strolled. When the name of the new cadet in Levi's squad was dropped, Y/N couldn't help but grimace and bite her bottom lip to hold back a chuckle. 

"What's so funny?" Hange asked. 

"Nothing," she replied. 

"Come on, just tell me!" 

"Fine..." she relented, "but this stays between us." 

"You know I can't promise that," Hange joked, indicating that juicy information wouldn't stay secret for long. "Just spit it out." 

"I met Eren earlier today..." she began. 

"Yeah, and?" Hange prompted. 

Y/N's subtle, almost innocent blush didn't match her sassy chuckles. "He's hella cute." 

Hange's loud gasp echoed in the empty hallways, prompting Y/N to hush them intensely. "You're a taken woman, Y/N!" the brunette argued, albeit without seriousness. "And... He's a kid. Have some decency, you creep." 

"Hey!" Y/N quickly protested. "I never said I was going to sleep with him or something like that! Can't a girl admit when a boy is cute? I mean, did you see his eyes? He's going to be turning heads around here before you know it." 

Hange chuckled, "If he survives..." 

"What a depressing thought, Hange, for Sheena's sake," both continued walking. "Mark my words, he's going to be handsome and will have girls swooning over him." 

"Including you?" Hange teased. 

Y/N shook her head softly, regretting telling the squad leader about it. "I could teach him a thing or two," she joked back, earning a shallow laugh from her companion. 

"Don't let Shorty hear you say that," Hange warned. 

"I'm joking, I'm joking," she assured. 

The heavy stone walls seemed to catch every little molecule of dust between the bricks as she swung the door open to the basement kitchen, probably designed to keep the cold temperature for food storage. Or perhaps it was an old castle, and the staff was secluded to the forgotten and unpleasant part of the architecture. Once inside, Petra and Eren were cutting potatoes while sitting on big, chipped wooden boxes. 

"Hey," Y/N greeted, rubbing her arms over her clothes as the humidity and coldness of the place seemed to penetrate every piece of clothing. "The bathroom is free if you want to take a shower." 

Y/N chuckled softly at her own words. "Well, 'shower' is a bold word for sitting down and throwing buckets of water on yourself," she clarified, jokingly. 

Petra seemed to understand, smiled at Eren, and stood up to clean her hands before leaving. They were taking turns for showers, mostly because the former HQ lacked a water pumping system, so they had to fetch water early in the day. For showers, the water had to be warmed up by the stove and then carried to one of the rooms they had chosen as a bathroom. Neither room was ideal because of the wooden floors, but they made do. 

She noticed the big, almost innocent eyes of the cadet looking up at her, both seemingly waiting for the other to make the next move. Eren continued with his task silently until she cleared her throat. 

"So... have you taken a shower yet, Eren?" 

"No, ma'am," Eren replied stiffly, making her scoff. 

"You can call me Y/N," she said, taking a spot next to him on the box. "Here, let me help you, or we'll be having potatoes for dinner the day after tomorrow." 

Her hands began to peel the potatoes with expertise. "You're good at this," he commented, looking down at his own pile and noticing a good part of the peel had taken the potato with it. 

She chuckled, "Ugh, you know how many potatoes I peeled before I was promoted," she joked. "You're showering after dinner? Make sure to rinse the water out of your hair if you're going straight to bed; you might catch a cold otherwise." 

Eren seemed surprised by the comment, or perhaps by the interaction overall. "Yes, ma'am," he replied with less self-assurance. "Captain Levi said the rest should go ahead, and then we'll go... I feel bad that he had to wait to take his turn because of me." 

"You're showering with Levi?" she asked, entertained, cutting off a bit of the self-hate speech that the cadet was about to embark on. "You're not planning on stealing my man, are you?" 

Oh, how quickly the blood rushed to his cheeks. It was priceless. "N-NO! I-I, no. I'll n-never," the poor boy began to stutter. She playfully patted his back while having a blast. 

"Relax, Eren. I'm messing with you," she said between chuckles. "It's just a silly shower, sweetie. Levi goes to bed very late, so showering last doesn't affect him." 

"But Oluo said–" 

"Ohhh, please," she interrupted him again, rolling her eyes as she returned to her task of peeling potatoes. Momentarily pointing at him with the knife, as if to emphasize her point, she continued, "Do not listen to him. Oluo is like one of those very tiny little dogs. They bark and bark and may even bite more than a regular-sized dog, but they actually hold no power." 

It was time for the cadet to have a short chuckle at her comparison. "Mr. Oluo isn't going to like that." 

"Well, I'm higher in command than him so." 

There was a brief calm silence as both of them continued to prepare dinner. "You're too nice to me, Squad Leader," Eren murmured, slightly ashamed. "The rest of Captain Levi's squad is nice too, but I can feel their fear..." 

Y/N couldn't help but find it endearing, the little pout on his face. "Oh sweetie, I'm the one who brings the first paperwork of the day to Erwin, and sometimes I even have to wake him up. There's nothing you could do that could scare me after that," she said while reaching forward to pinch his right cheek while wrinkling her nose. "You're a cutie." 

The side smile mixed with a not subtle blush that extended to his ears and the subtle shame in his eyes. Everything in his attitude screamed 'I'm not a girl or a kid, don't call me that.' 

But that was exactly what he was in her eyes: a kid. 

Clicking his tongue, cursing under his breath, he moved the shaking candle around, trying to find a good lighting spot against the old mirror while passing the razor close to his skin. The flame shook under the little insulation of the old rooms, and the humidity of the showers didn’t help as it rained little drops of condensation too close to it. Unlike Eren, who had finished showering and looked around ashamed, unsure how to even begin to dress up for bed without looking awkward (he could start by not standing still in the middle of the room), Levi seemed rather relaxed. Apparently, his only problem was shaving under that type of light. 

The Captain looked over his shoulder, found the cadet looking as if he wished the earth could swallow him. “Come on, brat. We don’t have all night. Get dressed so I can take you to the basement,” Levi spoke up. “Don't be so tense. I cleaned the place myself.” 

‘The cleanliness is not my problem,’ Eren thought to himself as he tried to carry on. But keeping the towel around his hips while trying to put clothes on that stuck to his humid body, nothing was going according to plan. 

“I bet you shared showers in worse conditions at the training camps,” Levi kept his usual stoic face as he cleaned the residues of shaving cream from his face and carried on unaffected by the situation. 

But Eren couldn’t unglue his eyes as soon as he noticed them. Yes, them. The red striking scratches down the back of his superior. Well-marked, five on each side decorating his shoulder blades. Eren swore he was trying not to pay them any mind, trying to remember to breathe or even to stop the saliva as his mouth hung open looking at them. 

Levi mentioning the shared showers at the training camps didn't help. Because all he could hear repeating endlessly in his mind were the stupid conversations Reiner and Jean would have about the hypothetical chicks they were planning to lay with. How they throw their heads back as they moan your name. Their nails sinking in your back as you pounded into them. 

‘Think of something else, Eren. Think of something else,’ 

“S-sorry,” he stuttered out a reply as the object he was picking up slipped from his clumsy hands, gathering his superior's attention, who was now staring at him as he kneeled to pick it up with his face as red as a tomato and nervous eyes. 

Levi raised a silent eyebrow for a split second before slightly shaking his head, not giving it much thought. ‘Teenagers,’ he thought to himself while sighing. 

Eren wished he could stop his own mind because it wasn’t just Reiner’s voice playing in his head but the created mental images of what he thought, in his inexperience, it looked like: his superior—no—his hero, fucking the sweet, caring woman who had just been peeling potatoes with him. Her hands that pinching his cheeks, sinking its nails into his squad leader’s back while moaning his name. Wrinkling his eyes closed, trying to erase the mental images as he could feel the blood pumping. ‘You’re not planning on stealing my man, are you?’ her voice echoing in the walls of his head, pumped lips and sultry eyes as she looked back at him playfully. 

‘Think of something else!’ 

“What could you probably be thinking of?” Levi’s voice echoed as his worst nightmare. Had he said that out loud? This time Levi had turned around to face him, left hand resting on the sink as he had his trousers on but hanging loosely on his hips as he was halfway getting dressed. He didn’t seem friendly, and his dead glance demanded an explanation. 

“Ehm- I,” Eren began to stutter, trying to find a logical explanation. His mind was racing miles per hour, how to explain. He was peeling potatoes, she made a joke, now he knows they are dating, Levi had his back scratched by her. She, her nails, her joke, her pretty lips— 

“Y-Y/N,” 

Ah- He shouldn’t have said that, but it was the first word that came to his mind. 

“What?” Levi’s voice seemed to source from hell itself. 

Heavy steps again on the floor, as he rushed back to his room. “Oi, where are you going so angry, shorty?” Hange rested against the wood frame while drinking a cup of tea. They had heavy under-eye circles and despite the dose of caffeine from their drinks, they seemed very lethargic. 

“Tch, to talk to my girlfriend about not messing around with my subordinates,” Levi had a heavy frown on his face as his hair still leaked little drops of water. “I just had the most uncomfortable conversation with Eren,” Levi said between clenched teeth, barely modulating. 

Hange chuckled while raising an eyebrow, blinking a couple of times. “Y/N told you she thinks Eren is a cutie? I’m surprised...” 

Levi, who had never stopped facing down the hall to his room, not even when he began his conversation with the other squad leader, slowly turned around to face the brunette as he heard that with a clearly confused face that turned into a frown as the information sank in. “What?” he spat out. 

Hange began to chuckle as they feared that they had misunderstood, “Ha ha... didn’t you say you had an uncomfortable conversation about Eren?” 

“Clean up your filthy ears or go to sleep already, four eyes,” the captain said calmly before clarifying, “I said a fucking uncomfortable conversation WITH Eren.” 

“Now, tell me what the hell you meant by that and make it quick because I already stood in a leaky bathroom for easily half an hour hearing Eren stutter apologize after he said my girlfriend’s name with a fucking hard on.” 

Observing out of the window as she admired how calm the deep forest was at the former HQ. It was rather cold, but she had only her nightgown on, a sheer translucent piece of cloth. The door of the room swung open, revealing an extremely angry Levi. He shut his door close and walked up to her. 

“What's gotten into you?” She questioned, confused. But before she could even reply, he was grabbing her face, pressing her cheeks together, and slightly raising her face to have it inches away from his. 

“You’ve forgotten your manners. I’ve been too soft with you,” Levi groaned, “First of all, you don’t go around playing cheeky with my subordinates.” 

She could feel the tug from his grip, pressing her closer as her hands touched his arm. Breathing heavily, humming a moan at his words. “Second, you truly think you could have a brat like him when I can already tell you’re dropping with the idea of me teaching you your place again?” 

“Lev-” 

“Your next words should be ‘Yes, sir’ if you know what's good for you,” he let go of her face just to slap her ass, “Go to bed and ass up, baby girl.” 

She moved excitedly in the direction he indicated but turned around as she bit her bottom lip, watching as he grabbed a belt from his uniform, “and that?” she asked curiously. 

“To make sure I’m the only one who leaves marks behind.” 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out.

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[yaut-jaknowit]

Back again with yet another idea -🥤

So this could be with any of the beans but I was thinking that the reader got caught by some bad bloods or human and experimented on. One of those being something that slowly transforms them into a yautja. The reader might try to hide this from their mate (like the scales slowly appearing, how sensitive your senses are becoming) but the reader can’t hide much from an experienced yautja

The Wrong Secret to Hold

Pairings: Ahtaal (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Warnings: mentions of self harm (needing to rip off skin) (?)

Word Count: 2334

Summary: Ahtaal may no be an enforcer but when he found out you were stolen right off of his ship, he became one. Just for that reason. He tracked you down through the stars until he was able to pinpoint your location. From there, he tore apart the bad bloods who stole you. But it was already too late. The bad bloods had already planted a seed.

Author Note: I love the fact you called them beans! I'm going to refer to them like that for now on. It's always great to see from you Cup Anon!

Masterlist

Ao3

Three weeks has passed since Athaal saved you from a cunning duo of Bad Bloods. He may not be an enforcer but he took upon himself to kill them after they kidnapped you. Right from the safety of his spacecraft. A mistake he has since learned from, increasing the security of the ship’s systems. He had almost lost you, his mate.

After he retrieved you, gaining the two skulls of those who wronged you. Both of them hang nicely above your shared bed. A bed you were curled up in, even after being awake for at least three hours. Three hours of rest you desperately needed. In the end, they were lost.

The nest like bed built into the floor was usually comfort, perfect to curl up in and nap. Everything was too much. The room was too cold. The air too dry. The blankets too scratchy. Then, there was the noise of the engines. They caused a raging headache to pound in your skull, driving away every rational thought in your mind.

Everything was too much.

This had progressed ever since Ahtaal saved you from those Bad Bloods. Your memory of your time with them was foggy, blurry of what they might have done to you. It wasn’t long they held you but they had changed something in you. You blamed it on the trauma they had put you through, part of the reason why you couldn’t recall what happened to you.

Athaal saw an uptick in your heartbeats. Not by much, only ten on average, but called it normal. Fear of a prey animal only reacting. That was that.

Then, the oversensitivity began to grow. Even the clothes Athaal had stolen for you from earth were too much to put on. Yet, your mind warred on the fact being naked was bad or being driving into insanity when you could feel your own skin. You had to reframe yourself from scratching your skin off every time you breathed.

All the blankets had been pushed of out the massive concave bed. They had been touching you, grazing your skin. The feel of them made you want crawl out of your own body and throw yourself into a pit of lava.

As this progressed as well, you refrained from telling Athaal. He’s been stressed since you’ve been napped right from underneath his mandibles. He’s been working hard on the ship, ensuring the same thing never happens to you again. Plus, with the killing, he also had to make a case against his clan’s court about the legal execution of the Bad Bloods. Not that the seem to disagree but it all revolve around the honor code. To keep the balances and checks in their strict system.

The last thing that Athaal needed added to his plate was whatever was affecting you. It would pass. It was just trauma. Your scenes overworking to keep you safe after such an attack.

Until you wondered into the bathroom to relieve yourself only to find… scales?! Your hands grasped the porcelain sink, heart beating at a thousand miles per second. You felt lightheaded, legs ready to give out at any moment. There were scales starting to grow on your chest.

Your fingertips gingerly touched the rough patches and winced since they were sensitive too. Tears burned your eyes, right on the edge of falling. Why was this happening to you? What was happening to you?! There’s no scientific reason for something like this to occur. You didn’t know of any disease in the universe that could cause this to appear.

What strength you had left, you stumbled back to the bed and collapsed onto it. The softness of the bed irritated your skin and made it feel like hot pokers were digging into where the cushion touched you. With an annoyed growl, you climbed back out and laid on your back.

The floor was unforgiving, cool to the touch. Yet, it was an improvement to the bed that made you want to desperately claw at your own skin. You huffed and curled up into a ball, hands covering your head as if protecting you from an attack. Your scenes were still on fire, driving you up the nearest wall. But, the energy to move was gone. Then, you were asleep. A fitful, restless sleep.

Raging hungry stirred you from your wasteful nap. A growl sounded from the back of your throat, sounding deep and dangerous. You stretched out only to bump into something warm. You froze. Then, slowly, you creeped your gaze over your shoulder to find the red form of Ahtaal sleeping at your back, chest facing you. Fear creeped into your heart, pumping into your veins. The lump in your throat was swallowed down thought. He wasn’t awake.

One of his arms was draped over your torso and kept you securely pressed against his body. At any other time, you would’ve enjoyed this soft moment with him. His loving embrace. But his heat, the texture of the scales on his chest. It was overwhelming.

Despite the love for him telling you to endure this discomfort, you grasped his wrist and held it up. It weighed a lot due to the muscles that cord it. But, you were able to roll out from underneath him. You climbed out of the bed then stopped and turned to look down at him for a fleeting moment. He was still, breathing normal, eyes closed. He hadn’t woken up.

A soft sigh of relief left you. You about faced again and snuck away towards the kitchen. Anything to quell this pang of hunger that curled and boiled deep inside of you. In all of your years, you’ve never felt like before. Even if you hadn’t ate the day before, and you had.

The open kitchen was dark as you worked inside of it, not needing light on to see. You worked diligently. Two bowls of fruits and a plate of dried meat was your preparing meal. Even that seemed not to be enough for you in the sight of your eyes.

Unease crawled up your spine. Instinct roared its head. A growl rumbled from the depths of your chest as you leaned over your prepare food, eyes darting out to the open space. Your teeth bared.

Ahtaal stood in the doorway of the kitchen, posture lax but eyes watchful. Your growl lessened until he took a step towards you. One of your hands slammed down on the counter. Part of the warnings that ranged from you not to step an inch closer. This was your food. No one would take it from you.

Through the darkness of the ship, you saw the way his head jerked back and he didn’t move any closer. The whisper of your name rolled off of his forked tongue. Questioning. Your piercing gaze refused to move away from the threat that could take away your nourishment. Food you were desperate to consume but not with him there. Eating would be an opportunity for attack.

His dark form stepped back and eased the pressure his presence seemed to caused to you. Your growled lightened slightly but your eyes didn’t wander. They were pinned strictly on him. His brows furrowed before he slowly knelt down. Anything to appear he wasn’t a threat to you, his mate. Submissive as the position seemed, he did it for you.

Your name fell from his tongue again. That’s when your scenes, this primal instinct started to clear. You shook your head, eyes flickering down to the floor. All of your thoughts scrambled as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.

One of your hands covered your mouth. What was that? Terror overtook every emotion inside of you. Your gaze met his again but as the prey you were. The exit was blocked by his kneeling body. Your heart pounded like a bird desperate for escape. You back away from him and the food, back meeting the wall opposite to him.

“Little one?” he softly called out to you.

Those Bad Bloods. They had done something terrible to you. There was something terrible wrong with you now. Your terrified gaze met his again. Then, you bolted.

Strong arms ensnared around your torso before you could escape. Heat pressed against your back. Your nails raked down thick scales, failing to cause any damage. Your legs kicked and hits his thighs and stomach but did nothing to deter him. Ahtaal traps your back to his chest and stand. Now, you were up in the air as he pinned you to him.

The restless sleep and everyday waking up more tired than the day before caught up to you. The adrenaline couldn’t keep up. You slowly go limp in his hold, chest heaving for breaths.

Ahtaal sets you back down on the ground and spins you around to face him. Those dark eyes of his are scanning every inch of your face and body. They narrowed down on your eyes. His hand pinched your jaw and dragged your head up. “Your eyes… they’re lightly glowing,” he grounded out. You felt his claws digging into the flesh of your cheeks for a moment.

His gaze continued until it notices the rough patch on your chest. The red giant pushes you back until your shoulder blades touched a wall. A hand softly encircling your throat to keep you pinned. He leaned down. His free hand running over the textured skin. You hissed and squirmed in his hold. “Stop, that hurts,” you whined, voice grumbler than usual.

Next, he moved his mouth to the crook of your neck. You felt his tongue rung across the skin there. Ahtaal tensed and growled shortly.

“You smell like a Yautja.” Instantly, you thought he was thinking you were somehow cheating on him or the Bad Bloods scent still lingered on your skin. He pulled back to look you in the eye again. “But it’s your scent.” The words were softly spoken, as if in disbelief.

The hand trapping your neck drifted up to cup your cheek. “What did they do to you?” he snarled but the anger was directed at the two who stole you from him. The question was meant mainly for himself but opened for you to answer.

You swallowed hard, chest still heaving to calm your racing heart. “I-I don’t know,” you cried, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “Something’s wrong with me. Everything’s too loud. Everything’s too much. The air is too dry. It’s cold. My skin… I can feel everything!” Even his hand touching you was starting to drive you insane. The texture was rough against your sensitive skin.

Everything went still. But you could easily hear the engines rumbling, his heart pounding. You could smell his concern, his confusion, his anger. You could read him the same way he could read you.

His furrow deepened before his hand softly left your cheek. It was instant relief. Less contact. Less touch. Less everything.

“I keep the ship colder for you. I lessen the humidity for you,” he muttered and returned to his full height, gaze blank. He was working overtime in his mind. The gears spinning quickly to come up with a solution. You stood leaning against the wall, fingers twitching with the need to rip your own skin off again. “And… you can see in the dark, can’tcha?” Your weak sigh answered him, eyes closing to block out everything.

He took a couple of steps back and shakes his head, trying to deny this. Internally, he was attempting to put the pieces together. To figure out what they have done to his mate. Yet, none of it made sense. The site he found you at… those Bad Bloods, they- his mind stopped there. Pausing as the realization dawned upon his form. Experimented. On you. His mate. They had injected something into you to change you from his perfect mate.

A deafening growled tumbled from his chest. Your hands slammed over your ears at the sound. A pained cry leaving your chapped lips. He stopped immediately and even flinched himself. Pauk.

Instantly, his first mission was to find a way to fix this. To fix you. To save you. To help you. A firm, stern gaze passed over his features. He reached out and tilted your head back. Your eyes sliding open to find the dark gaze of your mate on you. “I will find a way to help you. I will scour this entire universe for a cure,” he grounded out, voice low to help ease the pain it may cause to you.

The Yautja was beyond pissed. He wished to go back when he slaughtered those two Bad Bloods and made their death even longer. For all the pain they have caused you that’s currently injuring you. His mandibles clicked against one another in a harsh way.

You believed him. You knew he would. He’s been through thick and thin with you. You are his as much as he is yours. The corresponding marks etched into the backs of your shoulders was physical proof enough. He grunted with a nod then glanced over at forgotten food. “It seems like you have a Yautja appetite,” he stated and pulled away from you. You dipped your head and also gazed at the dishes.

“Come,” he called and strolled over to the plates. Ahtaal picked up all three skillfully and brought them over to the table. “Eat. Eat everything you desire. It will take you time to grow accustom to this new side of you. But I will help you in every step of the way.” If it didn’t hurt, you would’ve hugged and kiss the alien to death.

Slowly, you moved over and gingerly sat down in a seat he designed for your smaller statue. Until your hunger was satisfied, he fed you whatever you wanted and needed. In that moment, you knew you could never want or need anyone else besides him.

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Even More Dead Boy Detectives Fic Recs

I've discovered some amazing new authors since my last post! And writers I've already recced have published more great stories So here's another fic rec post!

Who? You mean your teammate in the Codependency World Cup? (series) by RoseGanymede95

I couldn't chose! They're all great! Basically a series of Edwin and Charles through the years and on cases pre-show. It scratches that adjusting-to-being-dead/newly-escaped-from-Hell itch and the authors writing is magic! It also fleshes out a really interesting conflict in the payneland dynamic: Charles' drive to protect Edwin at all costs clashing with Edwin's guilt over putting Charles at risk/depriving him of some ideal afterlife. Parts one and four also introduces Constantine/Johanna and part three revolves around an absolutely gut-wrenching temporary break-up. 😢

In Hell I'll Be in Good Company by laylabinx

Charles rescuing Edwin from Hell does not go smoothly. Just. Bucketloads of Trauma for both of them. And for you, the Reader. It's so good though!

your fangs in my neck (like an anchor like a vow) by shadowquill17

Vampire Edwin AU! It's great because it combines the (homo)eroticism of vampiric feeding with Charles' whole bisexual crisis and post-confession Edwin worrying about making Charles uncomfortable. Also Charles is some kind of demigod/immortal agent of divine vengeance which is an AMAZING detail and I desperately want to see some fanart!

The same author's ongoing story to the pain is also excellent though very angsty (cw temporary character death). I'm anxiously waiting for an update!

To Memory Now I Can't Recall by engineering_madonna

This is an amnesia fic and the most recent in an established relationship series. The first two installments feature the boys getting together and navigating their new relationship, so pulling the old 'character A forgets their whole romantic relationship with character B' trope hits especially hard! The whole series is lovely, but I am WEAK for temporary-amnesia.

Lemonade & Sunrises by paraph

A Quiet Place AU! The boys are alive, but they're the only ones. Very bleak but in a way that makes me want more!

1999 au (series) by websters_lieb

The boys figure their shit out in the 90s. Also, Edwin gets to read Maurice and queer theory. The cases in both stories are compelling and the author's writing and characterisation of the boys are excellent.

I also recommend offer me that deathless death which is about the boys' first meeting, Charles' funeral and the birth of the agency.

if I could reach the stars (i'd give them all to you) by ObsessedWithFandom

Charles falls first, Edwin falls harder. This is an AU of the author's excellent Charles' bisexual awakening fic, which I also highly recommend. It has lovely OCs and Charles having a sweet little friendship/romance with the boy he saved in canon, which actually makes his death a whole lot more tragic.

Came up from that lake of fire by ghostinthelibrary

Charles and Edwin get caught escaping Hell and promise to capture a demon-eating ghost called The Deathless in exchange for their freedom. With the added twist that they get to be alive again! An exciting case, high stakes and all the alive-again culture shocks and emotional/interpersonal drama you could ask for.

gig officially gigged by laiqualaurelote

Band AU! It shouldn't work but it does. Which might also be an in-universe review for the band tbh. Idk, I loved Edwin's massive obscure musical instruments and Charles being his unpaid roadie. Peak Found Family Feels.

No Rehearsing It, No Reversing It by DontOffendTheBees

Charles overthinks being in love with Edwin, my beloved. This time with increasingly flimsy pretexts for why they NEED to kiss. Just perfect Idiots in Love, no notes.

The Case of David Bowie's Made up Sexuality by williamvapespeare

The agency attempt to help a living lesbian couple deal with a haunting. Meanwhile, Charles struggles through his bisexual (re)awakening. With bonus past (living) Charles no-homo-ing himself to the nth degree. Pure of heart, dumb of ass, indeed.

The lamps are going out by CasiHuman

Vengeful Spirit Edwin AU! Has some interesting ghost lore and Edwin being convinced his touch is painful to Charles (love that trope!). Also features some of the author's adorable/hilarious fanart at the end.

just frame the halves (and call them brothers) by Anonymous

Crystal stumbles upon the ghost of Edwin's older brother, who hires the agency to free him and his platoon from the battleground they've been haunting. Case fic with interesting details about Edwin's family life and an awkward as hell family reunion.

the case of the very long ferry ride by obsceme

Sex pollen but with skin hunger, so it's more touching turned making out and hand jobs in a bathroom. Interesting use of ghost lore and it's cute and well written.

Form 239, Schedule L by sanctuary_for_all

Charles Rowland's Love Language is Acts of Service: The Fic. So many feels! Plus Afterlife worldbuilding and some quality Night Nurse rep.

don't go sharing your devotions (lay all your love on me) by Hephanna

The boys and Crystal accidentally summon an alternate universe version of Charles. He's very... handsy. Charles being jealous of himself is objectively hilarious and it looks like it could be heading towards throuple territory. Possibly even a foursome, if alternate Edwin figures out parallel universe travel. Which he probably will.

Still a Better Lovestory by Vamillepudding

Hanahaki disease! Charles is on the case but Edwin's being weirdly uncooperative about his own curse. I loved the worldbuilding (there's a whole sisterhood of washerwomen!) and the angst, plus the writing is excellent.

The author has also written Eternal Sunshine, in which Edwin is cursed to feel no love of any kind. It makes for an interesting character study, contrasting cursed Edwin, his public reserve and his actual personality.