#maybe eventually they’ll get tired of me and just give me a job to shut me up

[yourheartinyourmouth]

husband and i admitted to each other today that we are terrified that poverty is going to kill us. it was terrifying and i can’t think about it or else i get so scared and nervous that i start shaking and i feel like i’m going to throw up & die

[aesthetic-bbyg]

OMG I’m so excited! ok ok how about a Lightner x fem reader smut, he takes her from the shop (like he did Cleo but the reader is Cleo in this situation) and she can’t help but talk back and sass him and he finds good use of her filthy mouth (🤤) rough and cussing!! choking? (Srry I’m crazy)

xx

FLITHY DESIRES

lightner x fem!reader

reader is of age , i kinda see her as a friend of the Pogues who sticks around to support them as they are younger , maybe like around rafe’s age (21 or so) , I do love a good age gap , he calls her sweetheart 🤭 , lower case intended, SMUT !

I’m gonna be so fr, I only partially follow the ask🫣 i sorta had my own thing envisioned and rolled w that instead. so sorry!! but it’s smutty and it’s at least something!

“NO, NO, STAY HERE. I’LL DEAL WITH THAT.” you happily offered, resting a hand on cleo’s shoulder. the girl paused her movements, looking up at you with hesitation.

“are ya sure? it’s my job, i can do it.” always the hard working woman that took responsibility cleo was, not even blinking at the offer to make her life a little easier.

taking a look at pope’s sleeping figure next to her you only smiled, gently pushing her back down into the hammock. “stay. i’ll deal with the fish, you just get some sleep.”

cleo let out a mixture of a defeated and tired sigh as she cuddled further into the comfortable bundle of fabric. “okay, then. just let me know if you need any help.” you nodded reassuringly, turning away to head down the dock before your wrist was suddenly caught. “oh! and my peppers move ‘em, or else they’ll dry up.”

you chuckled lightly, nodding in understanding. “move your peppers and feed the bait fish, easy.” you gently pulled away, watching as she sunk into pope’s side and fluttered her heavy eyelids shut. your footsteps were quiet when moving through the dry grass of john b’s yard and eventually to the crooked wooden boards of the dock. nothing but the sound of water and crickets filling the air, peace, such a foreign thing for the pogues.

reaching the small shop, you maneuvered your way through the dark, hands stretched out to assure that you didn’t bump into anything. looking down at the small tank of water you caught a small glimpse of the bait fish swimming around. you smiled gently, moving behind the counter to retrieve a plastic container of cheap fish food.

you were utterly oblivious to the very faint sounds of footsteps approaching, or the sudden arrival of a stranger as they lurked in dark. you even hummed, happily giving the hungry fish their food before closing up the container and putting it back in it’s place. it was then that you could no longer deny the presence of someone else as the man suddenly grabbed you.

his arm tightly wrapped around the entirety of your upper body, immobilizing you from even attempting to get away whilst his other hand clasped across your mouth, muting any noise. you fought as much as you could, thrashing and fighting against his strong grip. it didn’t realize exactly what you were doing until he let out a low groan into your ear.

“stop that.” his voice was deep and rough, enough that it sent shivers down your spine. you movements faltered slightly, in the midst of your weak attempts to escape his grip you been grinding your ass directly onto his dick. as immoral as it was, it was his only sign of weakness and you’d rather hump against him then potentially risk your life. so, you continued, even arching slightly so your movements were full of purpose. whatever his name was, he didn’t like it. suddenly he was pushing you forward and bending you over one of the counters. “i told you to quit it.”

“fuck off.” your muffled words attempted to snap, but it was no use against his large hand that kept it’s place. you shifted ever the slightest, the best you could in such a position. there came a point where you had hit a specific spot, letting out a moan before you could even stop yourself. your movements froze, eyes widening as your face went warm.

he chuckled from behind you, leaning down to breath real close to your ear. “now you’re just doin’ it on purpose, aren’t ya sweetheart?” you let out a pathetic squeak, still not moving. somehow, it was deemed a good enough answer for him. the man moved, his hips thrust forward, testing the waters almost. you tried your best to hold back any noise, only a heavy breath escaping your nose. “i bet you want this, don’t you?” another thrust of his hips, much stronger this time, and forceful. you let out small moan, pressing your forehead into the wooden countertop in utter embarrassment.

what the hell were you doing? this was beyond wrong, you were disgusted in yourself for being in such a position but realized, you’d stopped fighting. now it was just your body making it’s own mind up. fuck, the stress of dealing with six reckless teenagers had distracted you from your own personal life. were you really this desperate?

“if i remove my hand, will you scream?” he suddenly asked, hot breath hitting the shell of your ear. a chance to call for help, to get you out of the irreversible mistake you’re gonna make, all of that handed to you on a silver plater and you only had to nod. the man’s hand slowly slid off your lips. a slither of light at the end of the tunnel, one you could sprint to until you reached it. and yet, as the light touched your fingertips, it vanished. you didn’t let out a single noise. not a yelp, not even daring to breath too loudly. he was rummaging through the pockets of his cargo pants, keeping a bruising grip on your hands.

within the moment of silence you mentally processed what had occurred in a span of five minutes. you had only caught a glimpse of this guy before you were all over him like a animal in heat. keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? from the foggy blur, he didn’t seem too bad. you subtly began to move your head, peeking over your shoulder to look at him.

fuck. he was hot. it gave you a strange sense of relief, he may have been a evil asshole who hurt your friends but at least he was hot.

the rip of duct tape snapped you out of the daze. it nearly made you want to take that chance of freedom, but by then it was too late. cheek to cheek, the material was stuck to your face, muting you once more. “how you feelin, sweetheart?” he asked almost mockingly, chuckling at the sound of your muffled replied. “perfect.” layers of the tape bounded your wrist together, allowing the man’s hands to be free to wander. “look at ya.” he muttered, running a rough hand down your back until it reached the rounded skin of your ass. he paused, squeezing the flesh gently before slapping it with force. if there was a slight sting through the denim of your shorts, you didn’t even want to imagine what it felt like bare. you gently squeezed your eyes, subconsciously moving backward so you could get back that bit of friction that was enough to wind you up. he caught your hips, squeezing them with another huff of a laugh. “easy there, sweet. i’ll getcha what you want.”

you whined, letting out a huff through your nostrils. if you were going to commit such an act of treason, it might as well be as quick as possible. it didn’t want this movement to drag on too long. you felt a hand reached around, unbuttoning and unzipping you shorts, then he hooked his fingers onto the waistband and slide them down slowly. once the denim pooled at your ankles you heard him unbuckle his belt. strangely, of all the things that led up to that moment, the small noise of metal clanking excited you the most. he waisted no time on himself, removing the tight pants in seconds. Clearly you weren’t the only one feeling enthusiastic.

he pressed his hard cock that was still in the restrains of his boxers to your clothed pussy, like he was warning you. he groaned gently, playing with your (luckily) pretty panties to tease you before he did anything. then he reached around to rub your clit, making soft circles that definitely were felt but didn’t satisfy. you needed more. and that’s what you tried to communicate as you shifted around and whined into the tape. he only pressed harder and faster circles, forcing out a moan from you. you pushed further, rubbing your ass to his hard-on.

“i hear ya, sweet thing.” he mumbled, pulling his hand away, leaving a disappointed emptiness in your stomach. “I’ll give ya what you want, but no screamin’ that you can’t take it.”

there was the a couple of indistinguishable sounds from behind you as you awaited for him. then, he slid your panties to the side, running his tip through the wet folds. you gasped as much as you could with the tape covering your mouth, relaxing into the counter—which by now, it’s uncomfortableness was just a blur in your mind. he tapped his cock teasingly before he was shifting to line up with your hole. you would’ve given him all credit of being a potentially good man despite the things he’d done with the way he slowly eased into you. inch by inch of his thick cock into your cunt, a delicious stretch that made you clench your eyes shut. that was until he pulled all the way out and slammed back in, any thoughts of him being gentle with you being thrown out the window.

“fuck, you’re a tight little thing aren’t ya?” he cooed, contradicting his harsh thrust from moments before. he repeated the motion of pulling out slowly, then pushing himself back in with a brutal force. he didn’t pause like the last time though, he gained his pace, a fast one. you couldn’t think straight with the way he was snapping his hips, the slap of skin on skin meeting your ears. the guilt that once overflowed inside you began to drain as you found something much more desirable to fill you up.

the thought about how shitty this was is definitely still there, but now it was nothing more than a nagging thought you’d rather not let get in the way of your orgasm. as much you disliked being so tied up, the tape quieted your uncontrollable moans that definitely could’ve been heard from a mile away if it wasn’t there. you wanted to grip something, something to bound you to reality as the pleasure felt far too fictional. but you only could dig your nails into your palms, heavily breathing through your nostrils as the noises continued to spill out.

“fuck.” groaned the mysterious man, grip tightening around your hips. you’re going to be full bruises that are going to be hard to explain. “such a good girl.”

that’ll do it.

you let out a noise that came from deep in your throat, not being able to resist. he was pounding into you harder if that was even possible, hitting a spot that had taken your vision and made it white. as if it couldn’t get any better, his rough hand you’d grown to love went back to rubbing hard circles on your clit. this time, they were more than satisfactory. they had you seeing stars. at the feeling of you clenching around him he let out another groan, thrust slowing but never stopping. he tip was still grazing the spongy spot deep inside you, each time it grew more and more sensitive as you neared your climax.

you couldn’t even stay still anymore, your legs barely held you up as you quivered with the feeling of you teetering on the edge before eventually falling. you chest heaved into the counter, not even realizing you’d started sobbing with pleasure until a tear ran down your cheek. the man had pulled out just seconds after you came, stroking himself until he spurted out ropes of cum onto your ass. the low groaning in your ear had distanced as he lifted himself off you. you could hear him catching his heavy breaths, adjusting himself back into his pants.

you contemplated what to do. not exactly planning out the aftermath. luckily, you didn’t need to think much before he was reaching down to pull up your shorts. a gentlemen, despite absolutely ruining you just earlier. he tugged you up, forcing you to stand up straight before he turned you around to look at him. for the first time you were directly staring up at those dark eyes, and if he wanted to intimidate you he’d only needed to stare the way he was doing now. your face grew warm, embarrassment seeping into your skin.

you winced as he ripped off the duck tape, tossing it to the side without ever taking his eyes off you. you didn’t flinch as he hand lifted to slide along your jaw before it eventually tangled itself in your hair. you made a noise of surprise as he tightly gripped your locks at the root, pushing your head closer until his lips met yours. he kissed with such force and power that it reminded you of his thrust. it was just the way he was. strong. you did your best to melt into the kiss, attempting to give back that same passion but could hardly compete against him. he pulled back, trialing his kisses down to your jaw, then your neck, shifting back up to graze over your ear.

“don’t think i’ll stop coming after you because of this.” he threatened sharply, “you’re not safe and neither are your friends.” with that he let go of his tight grip, whipping out a pocket knife to slice the tape on your wrist and then he was gone. his boots heavy against the wood as he marched back onto his boat, not uttering another word.

you could only stare, watch as his boat disappeared into the waters. you felt dizzy, like all of this was a dream you would wake up from. you ripped off the rest of the tape from your wrist, tossing it in a nearby trash before rushing to do the whole with the peppers that cleo requested. you couldn’t stop thinking about the situation, each detail replaying in your head as you left the shop and began down the dock, back to the house.

cleo and pope were still resting peacefully in the hammock, another thing that tripped you out. they just casually slept here while you were getting fucked inside the shop? you rubbed your tired eyes, trudging through the yard and into the home. walking into your room you let out a sigh, not knowing what to do with yourself. the best thing was to get cleaned up, change clothes and go to sleep.

but even then, he haunted you in your dreams.

THIS WAS NOT SPELL CHECKED! apologies for any mistakes.

[dameronology]

rescuer {din djarin}

summary: din djarin rescued you - and then you rescued him {for @drinksomecoco !! i hope u enjoy}

warnings: brief mentions of torture, swearing

this is like....4k words?? it got a little out of hand, i won't lie to u.

- jazz xx

It wasn’t often that The Mandalorian found himself becoming attached to bounties.

Twice. He’d done it twice.

The first time, he swore to himself that it would be the last. Adopting his little green surrogate...frog? Son?

Okay, adopting his little green surrogate Grogu had brought enough tension into his life. It had gotten him back onto the radars of both the Empire and the New Republic; thrown him into some weird form of fatherhood that he wasn’t quite ready for and tipped his entire way of life upside down. Despite all that, he never stopped to question if all the exhaustion was more trouble than it was worth, because he loved his kid. Completely and entirely in ways that no parenting book or fairytale could ever quite describe. It was an intense form of love and attachment - and Din knew it was going to hurt when he would eventually have to return the Child to his own people. That was a little far off though, because he couldn’t investigate any further til he had the means to do so. Money and resources weren’t limitless and even The Mandalorian had to find means to an end.

Going back to the Bounty Hunter’s Guild wasn’t ideal, especially not with the kid in tow - but did he have any other way? Din didn’t know any other way of life, let alone another way of earning money. Besides, he figured it would only be a quick few months. A couple jobs here and there until he had enough in savings to travel far enough to find where Grogu really came from.

But it was two bounties; two bounties that he would find himself becoming attached to. Grogu was the only one.

It was through that decision to return to the Guild that Din Djarin would find himself stumbling across the next one. He was offered five pucks - the first four were easy. Standard jobs, really. Runaway criminals and Imps who had crossed people so many times that trying to work out their loyalty was head-ache inducing. He found them all in a matter of days, really. They were good at hiding but it didn’t count for much when The Mandalorian was good at finding.

Then there was you; the fifth puck. The one he thought was going to be the easiest.

Finding you wasn’t a problem. Tucked away in a corner of rural Tatooine - maybe twenty, twenty five minutes shy of Mos Eisley - you were hiding in plain sight. It would have been enough to protect you from anyone else but Din was an unrelenting expert in finding those who didn’t want to be found.

He never quite knew what to expect when he closed in on a bounty. Sometimes they ran and sometimes they hid. A few of them had tried to appeal to his humanity; to try and connect with the man they hoped was behind the mask. Because aside from the husky voice that occasionally escaped the helmet, there was no proof that The Mandalorian was anything other than a very convincing droid. That was, until, someone would lay a hand on his son or ship and suddenly, a wave of pure human rage would burst out from beneath the beskar.

You couldn’t have hidden from him or run away, even if you wanted to. Not because you were scared, but because you were chained up; wrists and ankles in shackles, keeping you tied to the walls of a filthy docking bay. From the sand piled around your feet, it was clear that you had tried to kick up a fuss at some point.

But based on the way that you looked at him - with tired eyes and a hopeless expression - that made Din realise: you’d lost the will to fight. He knew that you weren’t going to wriggle away or try to engage in combat.

“Are you…” The Mandalorian trailed off. “Are you alone?”

“Probably,” your eyes flicked up from the ground, unknowingly capturing his gaze. “I think I’ve been left for dead.”

He sighed. “I’m looking for a...Kan Durant. Is he here?”

“No,” you shot back. “He left me here for dead about a week ago. Probably knew that a bounty hunter was going to come after him at some point.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“I’m chained up,” you said. “Isn’t the answer to your question a little axiomatic?”

“Maybe,” he replied. “But if you know anything, it might be helpful.”

“Try Corellia,” you muttered.

Corellia. That was...doable. Not too far and not too hard to search. That would be his fifth and final puck and then Din could set off for the sunset in search of his kid’s home planet. That’s what this whole thing had been about.

But...you. You’d been left for dead - and based on the bruises around your eyes and on your limbs, that was the least of what you’d gone through recently. What kind of man would it make him if he left you? A fucking awful one, obviously, but what was he supposed to do?

Din slowly leant down, pulling a thin tool from his belt. He fiddled around with your cuffs for a moment, until there was a low hiss. They fell from your hands and onto the sandy ground - he expected you to get up, or to run, or do anything but sit there and stare at him with gaunt eyes. Maybe it was foolish of him to think that merely freeing you of your restraints was doing his part for the greater good.

“Is there anywhere around here where you can go?” he asked. “An inn? A cantina?”

You snorted. “No. I’ll die.”

“You can get food and medicine out there.”

“Mos Eisley is swarming with Durant’s men,” you explained. “The minute I step foot in any town or port here, they’ll know.”

Maybe being with Grogu had softened him, or maybe The Mandalorian genuinely couldn’t find it himself to leave you. But, he found himself doing the unthinkable: sticking his hand out to you, lifting you up, and leading you out of the docking bay and back towards his ship. He didn’t know what he was going to do or how he was going to do it but really, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. His main focus had been on keeping you alive until you were within the safety of the Crest.

You stumbled slightly when he put you down, tripping and falling towards the control panel to shut the loading bay doors. At least you were intuitive.

With that, you fell back to the ground. It was becoming clearer and clearer that you were in a bit of a state - how long did you say it had been? A week since Durant had left - so that was at least seven days without proper food or water. It was a miracle you were alive. Din had got there just in time.

“Why are you helping me?” you asked. “What do you want?”

He glanced over in your direction. “I don’t want anything.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” you shot back.

“I wasn’t going to leave you there,” Din replied. He paused for a moment, before turning to face you. “I’ve heard Durant’s name before. I know what he does to people.”

“Aren’t you more worried about finding him and getting the bounty?” you pushed.

Truth be told, Din wasn’t that bothered. He had enough money from the last four pucks to get him where he needed to be. The fifth had just been a little extra, so he had an easier time letting go of it. He certainly wasn’t the only hunter going after Durant’s ass and worst case scenario, Karga would give him a little bit of shit for not completing the job. All of that was a lot more manageable than living with the guilt of leaving you in the dark to die.

“Someone else will get him. I’m sure.” Din muttered. He reached for a ration pack stored away on a shelf and tossed it in your direction. “You should eat this. I’ll get us in the air and find some bacta-”

“- you really don’t need to,” you cut him off.

“Eat,” he pushed again. “You’re weak. You’ll need it.”

--

Over the next few days, you would come to find that forceful-but-caring demands were The Mandalorian’s main language.

He didn’t talk much - or at all really. He didn’t need to, not when you kept to yourself on the lower deck of the ship whilst he dealt with everything else. He didn’t seem to mind that you weren’t helping; after all, you’d been in a weak state when Din had found you and standing up had been hard, let alone maneuvering around the flying hunk of metal. You were beginning to feel a little more spry, thanks to the food, water and bactaspray. The combination was hardly an elixir of life but you’d found yourself feeling a little more human.

Sleep was the hard one. A combination of confusion - at the situation, at Din, at where you were going - and nightmares made it hard. Every time you closed your eyes, you found yourself hurtling back in time to when Durant had first captured you. You’d been a test dummy for all his weapons and experiments and really, you were just lucky to be alive and in one piece. It didn’t count for much though, not when you couldn’t get a single fucking second of shut eye.

You would have been a fool to think that Din hadn’t picked up on it.

He was observational by nature and even more so by craft. A man who was constantly looking over his shoulder and straight ahead; a warrior who had been raised to keep a weapon by his side at all times. Of course he was going to notice your insomnia, and the way your eyes seemed even more sunken and dull than when he’d first found you.

You were sitting in the hull when he approached you. Not a lot had been said, other than the occasional eat this or put this on your bruises. Again - all a little forceful, but with a sense of genuinity behind the words. You still had a hard time believing that he was legitimately just a man who wanted to help you.

“I find that noise helps.”

You glanced up at him. “I’m sorry?”

He cleared his throat. “When I can’t sleep, and when I have nightmares, I find that being in a room with white noise helps distract my brain.”

“Oh, right,” you gave him a small nod. “I s’pose it is pretty quiet down here.”

“It’s noisier up there in the cockpit,” he replied. “We’re going to be in hyperspace for a while so if you want to get some sleep, I’ll stay down here.”

“Thank you.”

For the first time in days, you finally showed a glimmer of emotion. It was just a smile - and one he figured was a forced one - but still, it was a good sign.

Din’s eyes followed you as you stood up, heading for the ladder up to the cockpit. You stopped in front of it for a moment, palms wrapping around one of the rungs. At first, he thought you were just pondering, or taking a moment to rethink your actions, but then a light bulb went off in his head. You were too weak.

Moving slowly, The Mandalorian positioned himself behind you.

“Is it okay if I put them here?” he quietly asked, large, gloved hands hovering over the side of your hips.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied. “Thank you.”

With Din’s support, you were able to grab onto the hatch above and pull yourself up, boots hitting the ground of the cockpit. He followed you up, guiding you over to one of the pilot’s chairs. The lights of hyperspace were flashing by, illuminating the entire room in a white-gold glow. It felt odd to be up here after so many days of confining yourself just to the hull - forbidden, even with the invite from The Mandalorian himself.

“How did you know that I get nightmares?” you asked, turning around to face him.

The helmet tilted slightly. “I get them too.”

“I’m sorry,” you softly sighed. “Thank you again for your help.”

“It’s okay,” Din brushed it off as though it were nothing. “We have about four hours til our next stop. I’ll wake you up before we get there.”

“Is that where I get off?” you asked.

“No,” he firmly replied. “It’s not safe there either.”

You had more questions that you wanted to ask - now more than ever that he was finally talking - but you were far too exhausted to even try. Once you’d fallen back against the chair and been handed a blanket out of nowhere, the noise of the surrounding machines practically dragged you out of consciousness.

---

One question you had wanted to ask Din had been about the duration of your stay.

How long were you supposed to stay on board? How long did he want you there?

You were almost scared to ask, for fear of the answer. After all, you barely knew him. He could get up at any moment and demand that you left, and you wouldn’t have been able to argue. All of this - this looking after you, this roof over your head, this care - felt too good to be true. Like it was all part of some elaborate ruse.

But it was funny, because you were even more scared that it wasn’t. If Din - or The Mandalorian, as you knew him - was truly just a nice person with pure intentions, then that was about to be dangerous territory for you. The minute that you started trusting him, and the minute you started to see him as someone who could protect you, would spell trouble. You had never intended to become attached, but it was only natural. You hadn’t had a single person look out for you - not once in your life.

Every time he made you food, or helped you up into the cockpit, you felt yourself slipping that way. A six-foot pile of beskar should not have been a sign of comfort, but the helmet came to symbolise...something. You didn’t know what. Attachment, maybe? A little inkling of affection for whoever the hell was below those inches of steel?

A few weeks passed and the tension slowly began to falter. It was probably the proximity more than anything, but the time proved to you more than anything that Din was genuine. He was helping you because he wanted to - there was no personal gain for him, nor monetary. He actually, honestly just wanted to do good.

And doing good, he was. Whilst he still kept his distance, he looked after you. He made sure that you ate enough to recover from your periods of deprivation and once a day, he would clear out of the cockpit for you to get some rest. He still helped you up the ladder every time -and even when you told him you were strong enough, he still stood back and watched just to make sure.

Because, truthfully, The Mandalorian was beginning to see something in you. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what, but he was intrigued by the way you were slowly beginning to show him parts of yourself. Where your eyes had once been gaunt and lifeless, they now had a spark in them. You were quiet when you’d met, but now you spoke to the kid and you hummed to yourself. It was like the life that was sucked out of you was slowly being breathed back in, day by day and bit by bit.

“Do you wanna get some sleep?” Din asked you one day.

“Yeah, sure,” you glanced up at the Child, giving him a small smile. “When did you last sleep, Mando?”

Another helmet tilt. “I get enough sleep.”

“I don’t believe you,” you thinned your eyes at him.

The Mandalorian sighed slightly - normally, that would have been a sign to literally anyone else to drop it. But with you? Nope. You saw that as a sign of progress; that the little, tiny display of emotion meant you were beginning to chip past those godforsaken layers of beskar.

“I get nightmares about Durant,” you continued. “Every time I panic and wake up in a cold sweat, I remind myself that I’m safe, because I know that you and the kid are here.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “You can tell me anything and I promise I won’t judge you. You’ve never judged me.”

He pondered for a moment, before releasing another deep breath. “I can’t sleep alone.”

“Really?”

“Last time I did, I woke up and my parents were gone,” Din explained. “So I wait til the kid wants to go to sleep and I just go with him, so that I’m not alone.”

Your heart dropped a little at that - partially because he’d opened up to you, but also because the Child rarely ever slept. If Din only ever waited around for their exhaustion to coincide, it must have been months since he’d last got a decent night’s rest. It was the least he deserved.

Nodding, you stuck your hand out towards him. “C’mon.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna sleep and so are you,” you replied. “You need it and if I’ve done everything that you’ve instructed so far, I think I should have the same in return.”

--

Din didn’t want to admit it to himself at first.

It being multiple things: the fact you were helping him, the fact your presence on his ship had made the place seem better, the fact that his heart skipped a beat every time you brushed past him.

Bar his surrogate son, Din had never been close with anyone before. He’d never even slept in the same goddamn room as anyone else, even. That was a fucking mammoth step for him, but when you took his hand? It felt like a baby step. Just a tiny hop from A to B. Not a massive milestone, or a moment of personal progress. You had made it seem so simple.

Maybe that was it.

You never over-complicated anything. Your intentions were always clear and simple - there was no moral ambiguity, no moments where Din had to question whether or not he could well and truly trust you. He just knew. It was funny, because it was the exact same situation you’d had with him - questioning why he was helping you, trying to work out what he wanted. This whole time, Din had been helping you solely because he thought it was the right thing and it’s what you were doing for him too.

Din liked when you sat close to him. There was a little wave of warmth he felt every time you shuffled a bit nearer to him when you both crashed on the floor of the cockpit, and a tiny swarm of butterflies that flew through him when you stuck by his side in busy towns and cities. It was clear that you found comfort in him after so many years of going without it.

In turn, he found comfort in you. Not just in the way you unintentionally looked after him, but just...everything. Your presence had been a little odd on the Crest at first, but now it felt weird to be without it. Hearing you single quietly in the shower and have one-sided conversations with the Child filled a hole in his life that he hadn’t even realised had been there.

It was as though he’d had a missing puzzle piece his entire life; a gap between all the interconnected parts that hadn’t been integral, but certainly inconvenient. And now that it was filled, he could take a step back and finally look at the bigger picture that had been forming. All the pieces were finally there - you and the kid and whatever odd family unit that made you - and the galaxy didn’t seem so nonsensical anymore.

A little over two months after he first found you, word got around that Durant had finally been captured. Not by Din, but that hadn’t mattered - because killing the man who had hurt you, even after everything, would never amount to everything he’d done for you.

The relief didn’t last long for you, though - because as soon as you realised you no longer had a reason to hide, it dawned on you that you no longer had a reason to stay with Din. Or, at least not one you were willing to share with Din. Begging to let you stay just for the sake of being near him didn’t seem like a very convincing argument - at least not from where you were standing.

But from where Din was standing, it was a little different. You were part of his life now, even if you had no idea. That wasn’t your fault, though. He wasn’t exactly the best at vocalising it. Admitting it to himself had been hard enough, let alone to you.

“So,” you spoke softly, clearing your throat. “I suppose you’ll drop me off at the next planet?”

You were both sitting in the cock-pit; the Child was asleep downstairs and the Crest was soaring through the last stretch of hyperspace before Nevarro.

Din didn’t want to drop you off. He didn’t want his ship to be silent all over again or to sleep without you by his side. The thought alone of not having you around anymore was enough to make him a little watery-eyed beneath his beskar barrier. You’d grown on him, and in return, he’d kind of, accidentally fallen in love with you.

“You don’t have to go,” he said.

You peered over at him. “If you can think of a reason for me to stay aboard, please do let me know.”

“I want you to stay,” Din replied. He gently reached out a hand and took it in his - it was the first time that he’d given you such a vast gesture. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “It is.”

--

Staying aboard the Razor Crest was one of the best decisions you’d ever made.

Not only because it meant you were well and truly safe, but because Din’s direct request was a sign to you that you weren’t imagining things. Whatever attachment you felt to him, he felt it too - but it ran deeper than that. There was a mutual concern and respect for one another. Something born of two lifetimes spent on their own, finally coming together in one.

Things had been a little slow before then; the way that you danced around each other, like two magnets that were meant to come together - just with a little hesitancy. There had been a lot of late nights and long trains of thought about the signals that the other was giving off; about whether you’d misinterpreted the way his hands lingered over yours, or the way you’d practically passed out on his shoulder.

But, after that - after Din had openly asked you to stay, and you’d happily agreed, things began to move a little faster. Where you’d once been slowly walking down that hill and towards each other, you were now slipping, tripping and falling.

With each passing night, you inched closer towards each other. God forbid you ever found out, but Din even found himself pushing the pilot’s chairs closer to each other when you weren’t in the room, just so he could properly feel you next to him when you dozed off. He enjoyed your presence at the best of times but it was those dark, quiet moments when he genuinely and fully needed you.

It came to a head one night when you’d laid down with the Child beside you - not upstairs in the cockpit, but in the tiny cot in the hull of the ship.

There wasn’t room for one person, let alone one person and a tiny creature. Even worse, for two people - one in a beskar suit - and the creature. It just didn’t work. It shouldn’t have worked.

But where there’s a will, there’s a way, and the moment that Din saw you dead to the world with the Child in your arms, he was certain that he was going to make it work. Maybe with a bit of reshuffling there, and if he just moved the kid here - and that was when Grogu bit him pretty hard on the finger.

Disregarding his reshuffling plan, he knew there was only one option left.

It was something he’d never dreamt of doing before, simply for how terrifying and exposing it was - but he took one glance at you, and once glance at his kid, and he knew it was going to be worth it in the long run. It was merely a necessary step to getting closer to you - physically, mentally emotionally.

You stirred slightly at the sound of metal clattering to the floor - not enough to wake up, but enough to be a little more aware of the room around you. A moment later, there was a quiet hiss, and then everything went black.

In your sleepy state, your brain reacted a little slowly - but then the mattress beneath you dipped, and you felt someone’s skin against yours. Not just skin, but stubble against the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to it, and warm fingers tangling with yours.

“The armour,” you murmured. “You took it off.”

“It was the only way,” he softly replied. “It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” you let out a sleepy hum. “Good night…”

“Din,” he quietly said.

“Good night, Din.”

[that-was-anticlimactic]

sk8 headcanons because i am Bored

autistic langa likes frozen fruit a lot—strawberries are his favorite—because he likes the cool texture

reki has lip freckles that really stand out after he’s been in the sun a lot ! there’s like four or five of them :)

just thinking about “all those friday nights / under the lights / under the bleachers together / you and i were meant to be something more than a faded memory / till you and i / something divided us” but matchablossom,,,

“but i’ve already lost it once / what i already won / i’ve lost too much now to care / but i know that something’s still there” ,,, matchablossom,,, ahhhhh

miya and shadow being besties,,, shadow being miya’s parental figure and miya being his adopted nb child,,,

shadow being the first person miya comes out as nonbinary to,,,

adam going to jail,,,

reki having a stuffed animal collection and letting miya name some and then realizing that miya never had a stuffed animal growing up so reki gives miya one of his older ones that he loved as a child and then buys them a new one too… and miya asks reki to name it for them because sentiments,,,

after seeing the girl he had a crush on kiss someone else, shadow takes out his feelings on the only thing he knows how to—skating at s but he’s not in a good mind and he feels sick because he thought he thought he thought he had a chance and he doesn’t pay close enough attention and gets hurt and miya calls him an idiot and patches him up and shadow feels like a kid again but it’s kind of nice to have someone else actually help with his wounds instead of just attempting to wash them and then cover them with makeup by himself,,,

joe and shadow bonding over hating the feeling of loneliness so they make up for it the only way they know how which is being loud and being extra because they don’t feel as lonely if they’re loud

reki, miya, and cherry = adhd club

cherry and reki drawing together… and reki teaching cherry how to be more loose and carefree when he draws and cherry teaching reki how to add more structure to his art,,,

langa stealing and wearing reki’s headbands,,,

langa with glasses

reki’s sisters doing cherry and joe’s hair,,, or even reki, langa, and miya doing their hair and shadow just watches and takes pictures and reki puts cherry’s hair in fishtails because he had practice with his sisters and cherry secretly likes it (and so does joe) and miya and langa just. completely messing up joe’s hair and putting hair clips in it and langa attempts a ponytail kind of like how cherry does his hair at s (and no cherry did Not find it very attractive shut up)

shadow being a scrapbooker and having like ten scrapbooks from his life,,,

shadow not being as good of an artist as cherry or reki but he does it because he enjoys it and when cherry and reki find out they invite him to draw with them

the crew / sk8 fam all going to shadow’s house and doing a couple scrapbook pages together and it’s a mess but it’s them and it’s one of shadow’s favorite pages because he’s never scrapbooked with anyone before

langa is just naturally beautiful and photogenic so the art squad always asks him to model for them if they want to draw people

joe has depression because i want him to

and shadow has anxiety

because i do Not want any of them to be neurotypical

yeah so joe has depression, shadow has anxiety, cherry has add and anxiety, miya had adhd and separation anxiety, langa is autistic, reki has tourette’s and adhd and depression ✌🏻

when miya gets old enough, shadow gets them a part time job at the flower shop

miya likes a lot of pillows

langa sleeps with no pillows (unless reki is partially his pillow)

thinking about after reki’s second beef with adam,,, joe after he tells adam off and they’re away from the crowd, he passes out because let’s be real—there is absolutely no way he didn’t get injured and the worse one is probably a broken nose and a huge gash at the back of his head with like skin peeling and stuff like need stitches so the gang all goes to cherry’s and they help patch reki up

somewhere in that time the love hotel gets brought up and by extension getting hit by the car and getting beat up and joe and shadow are on the verge of slamming their heads against the wall at reki’s nonchalantness

and reki’s p injured so he’s laying in the couch with his head resting in langa’s lap,,,

joe tells everyone embarrassing cherry stories from school like all the time (but joe was a foolish child so cherry gets revenge)

miya likes crime documentaries

joe unironically watched supernatural and that’s part of the reason why he and cherry broke up

(maybe joe just thought dean was attractive—sue him!)

lol wait what if cherry sued adam to pay for reki’s medical bills since they inevitably had to take him to the hospital

cherry constantly tells joe that he will sue him

joe may unironically watched spn, but cherry unironically watched glee

langa wrote destiel fanfiction once upon a time

langa wrote cas bakes dean a pie--

miya is carla’s favorite (after cherry)

cherry and langa with weighted blankets also

sometimes reki steals langa’s but only if he stays the night or langa brings it over and usually if he “steals” it, it’s them sharing it or reki needs the comfort of the weight if he’s not having a good time mentally lol

joe with depression,,, i just think about that a lot sometimes,,, sometimes cooking feels meaningless and, like langa, he only feels something when he skates but it’s only this temporary feeling of joy and life,,,

and shadow with anxiety,,, over-compensating his anxiety by being shadow at night and being over the top and sometimes mean because internalized ableism,,, and if he pretends he doesn’t have anxiety then maybe he won’t feel it late at night or when everything seems to go wrong during a shift at work and he keeps dropping flowers because his hands are shaking and girls don’t like guys with anxiety, right ??? so shadow thinks that he CAN’T have anxiety :/// poor dude

miya with separation anxiety pushing people away before they get attached because if they push them away before they become friends, then they wouldn’t be able to leave them,,,

langa always bouncing his foot in class and all the time because it’s his main form of stimming (look at that boy and try to tell me he doesn’t bounce his legs like there’s no tomorrow i dare you) and sometimes it makes his legs sore and cherry and joe once recommended using a heating pad if it got really sore and langa does sometimes and it makes him happy

reki with ts having anxiety when he has to speak in front of the class / do presentations because he’s hyper-aware of his tics,,, so he always meets langa’s eyes and watches langa the whole time and langa sometimes mimes taking deep breaths which really helps but honestly just seeing langa makes reki feel like he can do anything (because he would do anything for langa)

cherry doodling to stim as a child and always getting in trouble for it because teachers used to like get pissed when students doodled (or maybe they still do and it’s just always been pissy teachers and not specifically teachers when our parents were kids) and eventually cherry got fed up with getting points docked for doodling so he started writing lists and stuff and been realized he had impeccable handwriting (also joe let cherry doodle on his hand during classes they had together so cherry wouldn’t get in trouble)

cherry once had a dream that he was rachel berry and joe was finn uhh *insert last name here* from glee and joe had a beautiful voice when they sang duets in his dream so he managed to convince joe to sing in reality and turns out joe cannot sing and cherry’s glee dreams were never the same (look i am tired lol)

joe likes being the strong one in the group and he enjoys being able to mess around / show off by just casually picking people up (he also does it as an expression of love because they’re basically hugs depending on how he holds you) and one day cherry is like… done with it ??? and just strolls up to joe and just throws him over his shoulder or something and joe combusts because he did Not know cherry can do that and no his face isn’t red shut up he doesn’t find this attractive what’re you talking about

miya wants a sword and keeps trying to convince everyone to get them one for their birthday but no one will agree because ‘they’ll hurt themselves and everyone else it does not matter that all your favorite characters have swords that does not mean You should have one’

langa is the kind of person that puts peanut butter on a cheeseburger

reki’s love language is a mix of gift giving and acts of service, but he tends to lean more towards giving gifts. his receiving love language is words of affirmation but he does Not know that yet (langa does—hence his constant “you’re amazing, reki”—and eventually so does the rest of their gang lol)

shadow likes theatre

miya has internet friends,,, so does cherry,,,

joe posts those affirmations on his story all the time

reki’s texts are sometime hard to read because a) his hands get injured a lot and b) tourette’s but langa (and soon the others) learn how to read reki texts

langa sleeps with a fan on for white noise

shadow was worried (and feeling a little left out but if he doesn’t acknowledge it, then that emotion is not real… that’s how that works, right???) since he was in the hospital when reki skated against adam the second time, so when they all went back to cherry’s to tend to reki’s numerous wounds and also celebrate friendship, miya kept shadow on a face time call the entire evening

langa has an android phone

reki is super comfortable with periods because he lives with five girls—he also usually has a couple of pads and tampons on him at all times because he’s the older sibling lol

langa wears socks with sandals,,, so does shadow,,,

shadow’s feet get cold easily so he wears fluffy socks a lot

cherry keeps his fingernails at the perfect length to dramatically tap them against the table (also to freak people out by doing that)

miya is Not a morning person

miya also likes having the windows to shadow’s car rolled up because their hair gets in their face otherwise but shadow likes them down so it’s this constant struggle

i still stand by cherry suing ad*m and using the money he won to pay for reki’s medical bills (… and shadow’s… and langa’s if he needs any)

i just feel like many people have reason to sue ad*m

ponytail langa rights

joe had really bad acne as a child and teen and cherry helped him feel less self-conscious about it and helped him embrace having acne and that’s one reason why he exposes so much skin as joe because it’s a reminder of personal growth <3

also joe has acne scars on his chin and cheeks

joe has cherry’s calligraphy all over his walls

ik i already said so in reki with ts headcanons but he doodles pictures for everyone in the sk8 fam and they all keep each and every one and shadow even puts them in his scrapbook

let langa punch adam 2k21

let reki punch adam 2k21

actually they All deserve to punch adam 2k21

miya’s favorite movie is coraline

langa can’t snap his fingers

joe and cherry always argue over whether even numbers or odd numbers are best

miya does esports

joe was in marching band and was in drumline

cherry stays up late to look at the stars and he had those plastic stars taped to his ceiling as a child

reki eats tomatoes like apples and it makes joe want to cry

okay if the atla & and the sk8 characters became internet friends… these are who i think they’d be internet friends with…

cherry: katara

joe: suki

langa: sokka

miya: aang

reki: zuko

shadow: toph

note: suki, joe, miya, and aang are all actually besties. aang is the kind of person that would usually annoy miya but they just can’t dislike aang no matter how much he may want to and they somehow find themselves attached

but suki and miya would also get along really well because I know they would and aang and joe would just have fun and like it’s what they deserve so they are interchangeable / all besties

also sk8 characters if they were benders...

cherry: fire or waterbender,,, cannot decide

joe: earthbender

langa: waterbender

miya: firebender

reki: resident nonbender

shadow: earthbender

[bluefirewrites]

8 and 45 for juke pls!

8. roommates AU

45. pretending to hate each other AU

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I’LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

*****

Julie and Luke collapse onto their couch, both looking worse for wear. But once the door shut behind them, and ensuring that the curtains are drawn, they let themselves relax into each other.

It’s a lot of work, running around and doing what they’re doing, putting on the theatrics to keep the whole world from finding out, but it’s all the more worth it- to come home and be with each other. 

Julie groans, kicking off her boots, not caring where they land on the floor,"One day...we're gonna tell them."

Her statement’s immediately met with a scoff, though it sounds more like a pained wince, given what they just narrowly escaped.

"Oh yeah, that'd be a good idea,” Luke grumbles, tugging Julie closer to him. He just wants to bury his face into her curls and let his worries slip away. 

But Julie, ever the realist, keeps prodding at the dreaded subject. 

“Can we keep this up though?”

“Alright, but what would I say? ‘I've been rooming with the girl who's always foiling our plans’?"

Julie untangles herself from his hold and gives her super villain roommate a pointed look, "They've already met me."

"Yeah. As Julie. They don't know you're Miss Butterfly." He nods at her purple leather get up. 

"But I know them as Alex and Reggie. Not your evil accomplices. Here's to- I don't know- hoping that when they find out, that they'll see me for me,"

The ‘like you did’ is very much there even if it has gone unspoken. 

Luke has to admit, he didn’t take the news very well when he found out about Julie’s identity. 

With the life he’s led- being one of L.A’s most notorious criminals, he’s always moving around, making sure his cover’s not blown. So when he got matched up with Julie on his hunt for a new roommate, he thought he hit the jackpot. 

Works late hours? Rarely home? Friendly but keeps to herself? That way he could keep doing his job. 

Little did he know it’s because Julie was hiding a secret of her very own. 

For Julie, as reputable hero Miss Butterfly, would keep running into Dark Riff and his band of thieves on her rounds. Actually fighting him almost every night. The papers had actually dubbed them as the arch nemeses, which had been true. For a while. 

That was until, they both caught the other one trying to sneak back into their apartment, still suit up no less. 

(The fight on their balcony had been intense- kinda legendary-until they figured it out). 

They had sat at their kitchen table afterwards, nursing their injuries. At point, Julie had tossed him a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. Which was the least she could do since she had given him the black eye to begin with. 

“So what happens now?”

Luke thought that now that Julie knows who he is, she would march him to the station and turn him in. Julie thought the same. 

“Sounds like a morning conversation,” 

And with that they dropped it, and headed to their respective rooms. They spend the whole night ruminating over what happened, trying to grapple with the fact that their lovely roommate had been their arch nemesis this whole time. 

Breakfast the following morning was normal. The sight of Julie, out of her costume, making pancakes for them like usual, is enough to knock some sense into Luke. 

He likes rooming with her. And he likes the area. He doesn’t want to up and move just yet. He could tell that’s the last thing Julie wants too. 

“No one else knows?” Julie had asked him over coffee. No handcuffs, no calls to the police just yet. 

“Let’s keep it that way,” 

“For both of our sakes,” 

And so the arrangement was struck. 

They keep up their hero-villain act at night, but in the day they’re just Julie and Luke, roommates. 

Somehow along the way ‘roommates’ turned to ‘friends’. 

Maybe it started when Julie found out Luke’s background. How he and his friends had been on the streets for the longest time until they joined up with The Magician, the city’s crime boss, and began their life of crime. 

Maybe it started when Luke found out why Julie became a vigilante in the first place. To help those like her mother did, the original Miss Butterfly, until her untimely passing. 

They started to understand each other more, though Julie never fully approved of Luke’s less than legal activities. But Julie has to admit that out of her villain roster, Dark Riff may be the least rotten of them all. He’s a thief but at least he’s not like The Magician (hence his knack for making people ‘disappear’). 

And ‘friends’ eventually morphed into- well... whatever it is they have now. 

On off nights, Luke would be waiting by their balcony, ready to tend to Julie’s injuries if necessary. On one memorable occasion, he pressed a kiss to her bandaged knuckles, with a warning to be careful next time. Julie must have turned a few shades redder from that simple act alone... 

And there was another time when Reggie’s cover was about to be blown, the closest he had ever been to getting caught by the police, and Miss Butterfly had ‘accidentally’ left her knife behind, which helped him escape. 

Luke had returned the knife to her, grateful. Because if anything were to happen to his boys-

“I don’t know what you’re talking about...” She merely said, “And is it your turn to pick the movie or mine?” 

He smiled and chose Dirty Dancing. Her favorite. They end up snuggling into each other on the couch. 

Then It happened at a museum heist. Finally. After nearly half a year of them living together. When she spotted him on the roof, humming that song he’s been working on- music being his true passion, much like hers. 

And so she kissed him, the skyscrapers and night sky as their backdrop, the wailing security alarms as their soundtrack. 

How romantic. 

Another secret to keep. 

Julie knows it’s been tough on Luke, hiding this, hiding her, from Alex and Reggie- who had nearly walked in on their personas making out an hour earlier before Julie took action and swiped at Luke’s feet and initiating a well convincing fight. (They always pull their punches). 

Now they’re back in their apartment and Luke is tired.

"Look, Julie. I want to tell the guys. Really. But it's not Alex and Reggie that I'm worried about,"

"The Magician doesn't scare me," Julie assures. 

He bristles at the mention of his ‘boss’, "I know you can take care of yourself, but I don't the bubble to pop. And he for sure would pop it."

If Caleb found out that he’s with Julie, then he would for sure exploit it. Blackmail, threaten her loved ones, not to mention what would be waiting for Luke since he had elected to keep this vital information to himself. 

"Or maybe you could... leave the life of crime behind?” Julie throws out there. She bats her eyelashes at him, “Join me?"

"But being ‘bad’,” He mimes the air quotations, “is all I've ever known.” 

“You’re not bad,” Reaching for his face, Julie peels the domino mask off of him, “You’re...” 

Luke leans in, eyes fluttering closed, “I’m what?” 

“You...” Julie does the same, but as she nears, her face puckers into a sour expression and recoils, “You reek!” 

Luke pouts, sniffing his own leather garb, “I don’t smell that bad!” 

“We fought at a cannery! You smell like fish”

With a chuckle, he ignores this and wraps his arms around her. She squeals. 

“No, no, no- ew! Luke!” 

Luke takes it a step further and tickles her into submission, and so now that he’s hovering over her on the couch. 

“I guess I found out Miss Butterfly’s weakness then,” he smirks before he kisses her.

Julie’s hands weave into his hair, drawing him closer, and with a smirk of her own, still in the kiss, she tugs on the strands, making Luke gasp and pull away. She takes the opening and rolls him off of her. 

“And I know yours,” she retorts. 

Luke groans, “Not fair,”

“You started it!” She sticks her tongue out at him and points to the hallway, “Go take a shower!”

“And then Great British Bake-Off?” 

Julie smiles, “Yes.” 

“Sweet,”

They both take their turns getting cleaned up. Now, costumes off, back to being Julie and Luke again, they flip on the TV. 

“One day,” Luke says as they scroll through Netflix, “One day we’ll figure this out. And we won’t have to hide anymore.” 

“Yeah,” Julie agrees, “One day. But for now, for me, this is good.” 

“Me too,” 

credit to @lydias--stiles for their super hero/ super villain names. 

[rainileo]

have you seen hao’s selca ?? where he’s on the bed ?? ugh he keeps posting thirst traps and i cant stop thinking abt him and u having sex in the dorm where you have to stay quite bcs all of the boys are there and u guys eventually get caught </3

HES SO FINEE KHAUDUSJSJ

be quiet (m)

idol!minghao/the8 x (female reader)

warnings: public sex (?), dorm sex, quiet sex, minghao is sassy lol, not much else just sex w/ minghao

lmk if i miss anything (not proof read)

a/n: i literally almost peed when i saw those pics lmao he’s so hot ahhagejajdvs. i decided to make it so that he’s in school rn (like idfk art school or smthn trying to get a degree lol, but he’s still an idol). and sorry for taking so long to get something out lmao

10:33 pm

“are you done yet?” your was tone is riddled with annoyance. you slumped in irritation, starting to get restless. you were asking if minghao had completed his school work yet, as he has been working on it non stop since you had arrived a few hours prior.

at this point you were so bored. the time was slowly passing by, and you thought about leaving more than once, but decided against it as the two of you haven’t had much quality time together lately. the other boys managed to keep you busy in the meantime, but it was beginning to get late and they were getting ready for bed, or already were fast asleep.

minghao wasn’t even paying attention to you, busy with his work that has been piling up over weeks. usually, you attempted to keep him on track with assignments, occasionally helping him or reminding him, but sometimes his actual job can get in the way and cause him to fall behind to the point where he has to spend his extra hours trying to catch up.

you felt bad for bothering him and getting upset, but, he did invite you over after all.

the two of you are always so busy that it could be almost impossible to find time for each other, so when you could, you tried your hardest to make the best out of it. it was even worse seeing as the two of you could barely have sex either, and it was really beginning to get to you.

his eyes were trained on the assignment sheets, reading over them with his head resting on his knuckles. he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and looking up to you with tired written all over him.

“no.” was all he said, his blank facial expression never faltering. he blinked slowly and tiredly at you, the bags under his eyes now more prominent as you finally get a better look at his face.

he was seated at his desk and you were on his bed, sitting atop the sheets, holding one of his plushies for comfort. one of his nightlights was illuminating his room, letting off a warm glow that contrasted his skin perfectly.

you roll your eyes and get up from your position, walking over to where he’s seated.

“you need to take a break, like meditate or whatever you usually do.” you try to suggest, coming in front of him and placing your hands on his shoulders and rubbing them soothingly. his eyes follow you, moving his head to crane itself to look up at you.

his face softens from your ministrations, his body immediately relaxing into your touch. “-and i don’t know, maybe spend sometime with your girlfriend.”

the attitude is evident in your tone but he ignores it, moving his head off the table to move his hands on your waist, squeezing it in response to your comment, still looking up to you with those same tired eyes. he only stays silent, the air becoming thick as you await his answer. when he doesn’t reply fast enough, you begin, “c’mon, let’s do something, you’ve been sitting here on your arse since i’ve walked in.”

you now move your hands to his forearms, backing up so you can use your weight to leverage yourself to pull him up. he complies and comes to stand up with you. when he gets off the chair, you hear the joints in his knees crack loudly. he grimaced and began to stretch, finishing it off by twisting and shaking his leg like a dog almost, making you laugh cutely at him.

the side smile he gives goes straight to your core, it being a little to seductive looking for your liking.

suddenly it was like a switch was flipped, now that he was at full length in front of you, it felt like the mood had taken a complete 180. he intertwines your fingers and presses his chest up against yours, exhaling through his nose when you look up at him.

“i have a proposition.” he blurts out and you nod, “shoot your shot.” you reply, blinking at him as you wait, wondering what he could possibly be interested in now.

“lets fuck.” your eyes widen at his bluntness, mouth dropping open in hesitation. now it was his turn to wait for your response, biting on his lip and stroking your sides gently.

“but the guys,” you look to the door and gulp nervously, already imagining one of his group members walking in on you while you two are intimate. “don’t worry about them, they’re tired, it’s been a long week and i just need you now.” his hands shifted down to your ass, squeezing it through your sweats and you narrow your eyes in thought, hesitating on the idea of having sex with your boyfriend while 12 other men are just on the other side of his door.

you look up to him and he’s got his head tilted, looking at you with admiration.

“we don’t have to, but,” he pauses, pursing his lips, “it’s been way to long.” he exhaled again, letting out that breath he didn’t know he was holding. you nodded in agreement, trying to weigh the outcomes in your mind.

his hands smooth over the skin on your ass now, your left hand grips onto his shoulder and the other rests on the nape of his neck, playing with the hair that was becoming very long at the back of his head.

your brain tells you not to, but your core says otherwise by pulsing when he leans into your neck, leaving open mouth kisses all it. “o-okay, yeah let’s do it.” your voice is barely above a whisper when he pulls away with the same smile as before, griping your hips and pressing into you when he leans in to kiss you deeply.

the kiss is sloppy and desperate, spit beginning to build in your mouth fast. your hands dig into his neck unintentionally when he licks over your lips, causing you to shift into his member on accident. he groans into your mouth and you finally open yours for him to slide his tongue into you, immediately exploring and causing spit to dribble down the both of your chins.

it became intense really fast when he began to shift your hoodie up your torso, pulling it up and over your head, leaving your upper half completely bare, as you weren’t wearing a bra.

minghao shifts his eyes to your boobs and he feels his mouth salivate, moving his hands and beginning to massage both your mounds.

he leans in to kiss you again, simultaneously pushing you backwards towards his bed for you to lay down with him hovering over you. your lips never leave each other when he shifts onto his knees, hunching over you, hands going back to play with your boobs.

you let out low moans and he takes that as a go for him to suck on your nipples. he leans down even further to put his mouth onto your right nipple, making eye contact and your mouth drops open in awe.

his hands makes quick work on the waist band of your sweats, playing with it before you buck up into him wantonly. he smiles against you and moves his hands to pull your pants down, leaving your nipple alone. he throws your pants somewhere along with your undies quickly after, spreading your legs to view your soaking center.

“jesus, look at you.” he mumbles, eyes focused on your core and you whine impatiently, bucking up again to get his attention, “minghao please~.” you flush, heat crossing over your cheeks and leaving behind a light blush.

you didn’t notice until now that your heart was pounding, even harder when you realize that he’s straining against his sweats. “just relax, i miss your body.” his hands run over your skin, fingers softly gliding every inch of you and you squirm in anticipation, getting anxious as you hear one of the boys in the kitchen near by.

“minghao they’re right in the kitchen.” you complain and he scowls up at you. “so what if they catch us, they’ll just be jealous they’re not getting their dicks wet.” he says before leaning back on his calf’s to pull his hoodie over his head.

the warm light still reflects off of him, making him glow in the dark light and your mouth waters now, thighs shutting against each other to relieve yourself. he chuckles and palms himself, the both of you staring down each trying to relieve yourselves.

he moves his free hand to your knee to pry them apart, marvelling at your wet center again. he feels himself twitch and decides it’s time to remove himself from the confines of his sweats.

you silently watch him, moving a hand down to play with yourself, biting your lip from the pleasure of the relief of your fingers.

once his pants are on the floor he comes back between your legs and leans in to kiss you again.

everything in the dorm was silent except for the boys that were still awake in the kitchen, either cleaning up for the night or relaxing in the living room.

it felt wrong to do what the two of you were doing and you began to let you thoughts get to you as you hear the guys get louder, actually hearing mingyu walking down the hallway.

minghao senses you uneasiness and pulls away, moving his palm to your cheek, thumb sliding over your lips easily. “y/n, i told you we could stop if you wanted.”

it was like everything came crumbling down on you in that moment and you groaned out in frustration, slamming your hands by your sides and frowning at him. he watched you with wide eyes, confused.

“minghao i swear just stick your dick in me.” he snorts at your response and roughly grabs your thighs to hoist them over his shoulders. he leans down to hover over you, practically folding you in half. your hands clutch onto his biceps’s tightly as you wait for his next move.

he grips his dick, sliding the head through your folds momentarily, then slowly pushing into you, causing you to gasp loudly, mouth dropping open as he slowly stretches you open. he too has his mouth dropped open, sliding in to the point where he’s ball deep, waiting for you to give him the go. “you’re so tight baby. just like i remembered.” he comments, his voice now an octave deeper, pressing his forehead against yours.

you back your hips against him and he takes that as a sign to start moving his hips and immediately begins a fast pace. the way he fucks you is desperate and rough, panting noises only coming from between you both, trying to keep quiet.

“s-shit.” you throw you head back and minghao moves his head into the crook of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses and biting, being sure to leave marks. you let small breathy pants out, struggling to hold you noises in, deciding to bite your lip to aid you in concealing your noises instead.

right after that, minghao finds your spot and it causes you to mewl and to arch up into him. his hand holds onto your rib cage while the other snakes itself between you two and starts to rub over your soaking center, stimulating you even more, causing your pants to get louder and louder.

“baby,” he pauses, his thrust never faltering, and taking a breath, “be quiet.” his command makes you shiver, his deep voice resonating in your ears.

suddenly he changes his pace, making it slow and gripping your hips with both hands, pulling out and slamming in against you roughly. you moan out in response, but not loud enough for anyone to be suspicious. he immediately moves his hand over your mouth, going back to his fast pace.

you whimper into his hand, hands clawing his back as he shifts himself to hit your spot repeatedly. “i told you to stay quiet.” your face contorts in pleasure as he begins to speak, your brain not generating a response fast enough, “do you really want to cum?” he whispers into your ear and you whine, nodding vigorously. you begin to speak, pleading and begging him to let you cum, but your sounds are muffled from his palm.

he chuckles deeply and leans back onto his knees, sitting back to admire your fucked out look, eyes watering, hair sprawled on the sheets and a light layer of sweat on your skin. his hand remains tight on your face and your brows furrow after realizing he won’t remove his hand. “you said you didn’t want to get caught.” he smirks, his cocky remark making you roll your eyes internally.

he sits up to start another fast pace, now on his knees with your legs dangling off his shoulders. his thrusts are forceful but quiet, skillfully angling them to hit your spot with each thrust.

your hands go to wrap around the one that sates you, nails digging in with each thrust. “fuck.” he groans under his breath, watching as your breast bounce with the force of his thrusts.

he can feel you flutter around him, you feeling him twitching as well. “are you close?” he leans back down right in front of your face, breath fanning over it. you nod, giving him pleading eyes and he removes his hand. when he lets go you gasp for air, immediately swearing out as he chases both your highs.

you arch your back, squeezing your eyes shut, moving one of your hands down to relieve yourself.

you’re both so close and you feel it coming.

until mingyu comes busting though the door loudly, laughing at one of the guys and turning to the two of you who are looking back at him with frightened eyes.

minghao attempts to cover you, giving him a glare and mingyu squeals in fear, realizing what he had just walked in on.

“OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY!” he yells, putting a hand over his eyes and blindly walking out the room, bumping into the door and closing it.

you hear him run away and you both let out a sigh.

minghao slowly turns his head to you and you glare at him, shoving his shoulder angrily.

“i fucking told you.” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest as he laughs loudly at you, listening in on the conversation in the other room.

“whatever, let me finish you off it’s been way too long.” he says one last time before reconnecting your lips and starting his pace again.

[palettes-and-prompts]

Fake Dating Prompts

Dialogue Prompts

1) "Just so you know, I don't like you." "Yeah, well, I'm not paying you to like me. I'm paying you to laugh at my jokes and cling to me like a magnet so my ex doesn't think I miss them." 2) "Can you at least pretend you think I'm funny?" "That costs extra." 3) "Oh shit, they're coming this way. Kiss me, kiss me right now!" "Yeah, okay." 4) "If you ever kiss me like that again-" "Shut up, you liked it, you opened your mouth for tongue." "I did not!" "Then why'd you lick mine when I stuck it in your mouth?" "Just don't kiss me, alright?" 5) "Careful, it's sounding like you're dangerously close to caring about them." 6) "You know, if I didn't know better I'd say you're in love." "I don't love anyone." "But they're not just anyone, are they?" 7) "This was all fake, this was just supposed to be fake you weren't supposed to tell me you love me!" "And you weren't supposed to say it back!" 8) "Did you mean what you said in there?" "No. Obviously. Did you mean what you said in there?" "No. Obviously. I was just talking you up in front of your ex, you know? Just showing them what they're missing." "Right." 9) "They're coming, kiss me." "Ew, no, you just had funyuns." "Do it!" "Fine!" 10) "We're going to have to kiss in front of them so maybe we should practice." "Yeah, just so we can find out what we need to do when they see us." "Exactly, just want to make it more passionate." 11) "That was a good practice kiss. Should we...practice sleeping together too?" "No!" "Right! Yeah, no, I was kidding." "..." "Totally kidding." 12) "God, one bed?" "The company does want us to pose as a couple." "Whatever, get us more pillows put a line of them down the center, I'm not sleeping in the floor and neither are you." "I'll call room service." 13) "They'll be in here in a second. Get naked." "What? You didn't say anything about getting naked!" "Just take off some of your clothes, I want them to think we're doing it!" 14) "I can't believe I have to pretend to like you. I hate you so much and when this is over I am going to ki-" "My ex is coming." "Kiss you because you're just so irresistible when you smile at me like that." "Aww, baby, you're so sweet." "Haha, careful, too much sweet'll kill you." 15) "You're not thinking about getting back together with them are you?" "No! No...of course not." "You are." 16) "I guess it's time for us to part ways." "We don't have to...do we? I mean we're already on this trip, might as well make the most of it." 17) "If they think you and I are together they'll both be furious." "You want us to pretend we're dating?" "Why not?" "Because you hate me." "I don't hate you." "You don't like me." "Okay, I don't like you. Doesn't mean I can't pretend to like you." 18) "Your ex is a piece of shit and I know I said I wasn't down to make them jealous but I change my mind." "What?" "I'm gonna kiss you and push you up against that wall in front of them. If you're not into that tell me now." "Well, what are you waiting for?" 19) "Come on, you're not really in love with Person A, are you? You're just using them to make me jealous." "I'd appreciate it if you took your hands of my girlfriend/boyfriend." "Cute, you've really got Person B playing the part, don't you?" "I'm not playing a part. And if you don't let them go my fist will let you know how much I'm not playing any part." "You're seriously with them?!" 20) "They can't give you what I can. I've got money and cars. I could take care of you. But them? They've got nothing, they're just a nobody, baby. You're a somebody. You deserve to be with another somebody like you. If you stick with them you'll just be a nobody." "I'd rather be nobody with them than a somebody with you."

Regular Prompts

1) A had a bad break up with B but when they remember that B's got a jealous streak they find C to help them out. C used to be friends with A, and B hated C when they were around A. When A suggests a price or something C insists they wanna do it for free to piss B off since B got them expelled from high school or something for something they did. When B sees C around A they're distracted and can't focus around their new partner. But when C's picking up A and kissing them against a wall B gets more than just distracted and A remembers a previous kiss they had as kids and think they might've been together if B hadn't got C expelled. 2) A's a thief who gets bailed out by a person B, the ex boyfriend/girlfriend of the person they tried to rob before they got arrested, Person B tells them they'll pay bail and more if they help them make their ex jealous so they'll take them back. A agrees and they go out a few times but their ex, Person C, doesn't seem to be interested in getting them back at all. Person B pays A anyway and tells them they're just going to go home. Person A tells them no and comes up with a plan. A then successfully robs them and plants the items on Person C's new arm candy. They continue to do that with each new person until C decides the only person they can trust is Person B. When B and C get back together B's happy but A realizes C doesn't treat B right. After watching them tear B down after a bad day A decides to steal one last thing from C, Person B. Person B is hesitant to leave because they've been wanting C back for so long, but when A promises a lot of things B doesn't want to leave. B doesn't leave until A admits their feelings in front of B and C. 3) A makes the mistake of falling for Person B, someone who only wants what they can't have. Even though B likes a lot they just wont as them out. A asks C to help make them more desirable to Person B. C thinks that's a stupid idea and requests money or a big favor for it. A agrees and they start going out, earning B's attention. A tells B that C's just perfect and that they're happy together. This does nothing but drive B crazy and make them want A more. Person B finally asks them out telling them to leave C. A agrees and C tells them they can't believe they wanted to be with a person like that since they deserve better. A thinks about C more and eventually B finds it hard to be tied down to anyone. A dumps them and tells them they will never have them again, which has B back to being into A. A finds C and C's drinking by themselves asking if they can date them a little longer. C tells them they're done faking it and A tells them they're tired of faking it, earning a smile from C. 4) A and B are sworn enemies but when the loves of their lives are dating each other they decide to date to make them jealous. C and D are having a nice dinner when A and B sit down a few tables away they immediately come over and tell them they know what they're trying to do and that they're not even into each other so they should stop trying. But A kisses B passionately and B kisses back until B's in A's lap and C and D are like 'We get it.' They still don't believe them but A and B try to have a nice dinner, complaining about the kiss quietly while they have smiles on their faces. When B finds out they're going back to D's place they tell A their apartment is right above theirs. When they leave A and B go back to B's place and hear them talking about them through the floor. B suggests they fake having sex and A tells them that's a good idea. They fake sex over the spot they're talking and make up dialogue. C and D still don't believe they're together and talk about going up the fire escape to see them just sitting around on the bed. A tells B they need to take their clothes off, which they do super fast as they mess up each other's hair. C and D catch them in a compromising position and they both fake embarrassment when they see C and D just standing at the window. This does make C and D jealous and A and B acknowledge they're a good team and they have a moment that they can't stop thinking about when they're back with their ex's. 5) When A's family can't stop talking about how B's doing way better than A and that B already has potential boyfriends/girlfriends, A impulsively tells their family that they've got a boyfriend/girlfriend already. They don't believe A at all and A promises that they'll bring them to [insert big event here]. A panics and calls C, the most respectable person they know and tells them the whole situation and asks them to pretend to be married to them and then after the event they can 'break up.' C agrees and since they already know everything about each other they don't even lie about how they know each other. A's family is impressed and B can't believe A could get someone so handsome/pretty who's also so classy. When A's family put A down in front of C, C informs them of A's accomplishments and how great they are. C excuses themselves and after a while the family is wondering where C went and suggest maybe they left because they realized A wasn't as good as they seemed and that they were just being polite. C comes back in, sweaty and out of breath and proposes to A on the spot, leaving B and the rest of the family speechless. A immediately says yes. 6) When A and B break up before they're supposed to go on a couples cruise A offers to give the tickets to C and whoever C's sleeping with at the time. C feels bad and tells them they wanna go with them and the two end up pretending to be together to mess with the other passengers, thinking it's hilarious. But somewhere along the road of fake dating they realize they like being this close to each other and they like spending time together. They end up sharing a kiss while in front of the other passengers to prove they're close but end up thinking the other person isn't feeling the way they do. They realize they're in love by the time they get home and when C's about to admit their feelings B shows up at the dock to apologize to A and beg for them back. 7) A and B are crime partners but when they decide to complete a bigger job with the help of their friends they're sent to play a married couple. Since they work well together it's easy and soon they even begin acting more like a couple when it's just them and their team. Eventually they're forced to share a guest room at one of their target's houses and it only has one bed. They find themselves moving closer until they're holding each other. This inevitably ends with them asking each other the question 'What are we?' 8) When A and B break up A is quick to get with someone else but B takes it pretty rough. When B sees A with C they manage to find D and ask them to pretend to be with them just for one date. D agrees, not really that interested until A and C show up and A laugh telling B that Person D is the worst person to be with because they're always sleeping around and don't know how to keep it in their pants. Person D is pissed off by this and decides that they're going to fake with with B even longer and convince A that they can make a relationship work. Anytime A is around when B and D are together D is extra affectionate and nice and even thought B knows it's all for show they can't help but fall for them. When B confesses their feelings D doesn't know how to react. 9) A is a professor with a student who's obsessed with them, Person B. When B gets increasingly more desperate for their attention A confesses they're seeing someone and convince their friend, and boss, person C to pretend to be with them. This upsets B but  they tell A they'll just have to wait until C slips up so they can have their chance at them. C is annoyed they have to keep up this charade and that B is watching them to make sure they don't 'cheat' on A since they're known to sleep around. A apologizes and they soon end up spending more and more time together until they start feeling things for each other. When B meets someone else, Person D their obsession with A disappears and they become head over heels for D. A and C realize they don't have to date anymore but find themselves unwilling to stop what they have so they decide to just go on a real date to see if they like it. (The obsession part is meant to be more head over heels, struck by cupid kind of 'in love.' Not like the scary/creepy/stalkery kind of 'love.' But it's up to you on how you wanna write it.) 10) A and B agree to pretend to be a couple to earn a lot of money by playing a 'How well do you know your partner' kind of game. The winner gets money or a big prize and so A and B spend the whole week asking each other newlywed partner games and everything and basic questions someone would be asked. Over the week they grow close and when they win they celebrate with a trip, now bonding over their earnings they go to a place the other would love and A realizes they like B a lot more than they thought. While they're talking B realizes they feel the same way but before they can kiss A's ex, Person C, pops up out of nowhere and brings up some old feelings. Bonus if Person C is B's best friend and so their feelings make things more complicated, especially if Person C is talking to A about getting back together.

[arcturusreads]

Hi I see your in a mood to write angsty fics so here’s a prompt: Meredith trying to make it up to hayes after they have a fight but Hayes was having none of it int the first few attempts of Meredith until Meredith breaks down in front of him... I hope your doing good💕

Equals - Merhayes

Thank you so much for this prompt, I loved writing it! Hope you enjoy <3

“Could you just slow down for a second?” Meredith tried to move her legs as quickly as she could to catch up with Cormac without trying to make it look like she was breaking out into a run. It was no easy feat though, with Cormac’s long strides making it difficult for her to keep up.

Cormac sighed before turning around to face her. “What do you want Meredith?” He sounded tired, fed up, and it made Meredith’s stomach drop.

“I want to say that I’m sorry.”

“You’ve already said that. Multiple times.”

As he began to walk away again, Meredith wasn’t sure whether to leave him alone or try and get him to listen. Her gut had settled with the latter, so she once again began to speed walk her way next to him.

“But you aren’t listening.”

Cormac jumped slightly, he had been entangled in his own thoughts and hadn’t even realised that Meredith had followed him. “Meredith, please. I get it, you’re sorry. There’s nothing else to say right now.”

She huffed out a breath. This man infuriated her. What did he mean there was nothing else to say? She had apologised to him multiple times and he wasn’t even acknowledging it. Or he was acknowledging it and just didn’t care.

As Cormac took a sharp left and walked straight into his office, Meredith didn’t stop following him and sat down on his sofa as he walked over to his desk, shuffling through some papers.

“Do you not have a service to run?” He didn’t even bother looking up from the chart that he was reading.

Meredith eyed the pen that sat on the small coffee table in front of her. Maybe throwing it at his stupid, bald head would make him look at her.

“Yes, but there’s nothing urgent to do right now and Richard has got his eye on the residents for me. They’ll page if they need anything.”

At last, Cormac glanced up at Meredith but before she could open her mouth again, he had looked away and began to gather some files in his hands. “Right, well, I actually have things to do so you’re going to have to go.”

Meredith quickly stood; a glare fixed on him. “That isn’t fair, and you know it.”

Cormac didn’t want this argument. Not right now. He needed some space and time to cool off before he spoke to Meredith again. He didn’t want to yell or say something that he didn’t mean. All he needed right now was a little bit of time to cool off and then he would be able to talk to her. But she wasn’t willing to give him space and that just ended up aggravating him even more.

“What isn’t fair is you barging in on my case, giving options to parents that you haven’t even spoken to me about, that I sure as hell would not have agreed to! You had no right, Meredith. No right.” Cormac slammed the files back down on the table, making Meredith jump a little. “I asked for your help, not for you to take over.”

“I-I-“

“You what, Meredith?” Cormac squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. He tried taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm down, but it wasn’t working. This was why he needed space. He hadn’t wanted to yell at her, he would have much rather preferred to talk to her about this calmly when she came down to his house later. Instead, here they were.

Cormac had been expecting his girlfriend to bite back. He had seen her in arguments, knew what she was like in the few arguments that they’d had. Instead, he was met by silence. A strange and slightly worrying silence. When he opened his eyes again, he found Meredith sat back down on the sofa, elbows resting on her knees as she rubbed her face. She looked… defeated. An attitude that he was not attuned to seeing in her. He watched the slow rise and fall of her shoulder as she let go of a deep breath and tentatively took a step towards her.

In all honesty, Cormac hadn’t thought he had been that harsh. Sure, he could have come across differently, but he hadn’t thought he had said anything that could have made her that upset. It took a lot more for someone like Meredith to be brought down, or so he thought. He had seen some of the things she had to deal with and what he hadn’t been around for, other people in the hospital had let him know about.

“I’m an idiot.” Meredith’s mumbling eventually broke the silence, briefly looking up at Cormac before staring at her hands.

As much as he wanted to agree at that moment, Cormac saw how crestfallen Meredith looked. The look on her face was enough to make his heartache. She wasn’t the type of woman who was found to be upset very often but when she was, Cormac found himself doing everything in his power to make that feeling go away for her. Right now though, he wasn’t quite sure what to do because as much as he wanted to fix everything for her, he still wasn’t over the fact that she had completely taken over his case the way she had. He didn’t want to brush it off like it was nothing because this was important to him. It was important for Meredith to know that he wasn’t going to keep dealing with that. In the end, Cormac decided that it was best for him to stay quiet for now.

“I should never have gone and bulldozed my way into your case like that.” Her voice was small, not brimming with the usual confidence and assertiveness.

“I wouldn’t have put it like that… more like a bull in a china shop…”

“Like I said… idiot…” Meredith could feel her eyes burning and she willed herself not to let tears fall. This was not something to cry about. “I promised myself I wouldn’t be like that…” she mumbled quietly.

“What are you on about, Meredith,” Cormac’s tone was gentler now. He took a seat next to her, leaving some space between them.

Meredith blew out a breath of air and slowly lifted her head to look up at Cormac. ‘You know that Derek was an attending, and I was an intern when we got together?”

Cormac nodded his head. The two of them had spoken about both Derek and Abigail, a topic that neither of them had shied away from. There were always going to be certain things that they weren’t going to share though, things that they would want to keep for themselves. Cormac wondered if this was one of those things.

“The power dynamic between us… it was never quite right. I love him and he loved me but even when I became an attending… it still sometimes felt like his career was always going to be more important than mine. It caused us a lot of issues. To be honest, it was what most of our arguments ended up being about. When Christina left for Switzerland, she reminded me that I was the Sun, not him. Just when I thought we were getting back on track, that there was some kind of balance he died…” Meredith cleared her throat before carrying on.

“Then there was Andrew and this time he was the intern, and I was the attending. I tried to make sure that the same weird power dynamic didn’t exist between us… but I guess it was inevitable. He felt like I didn’t respect him. And then I met you and we’re both attending and we’re both Chiefs of our own department and it’s never felt like I had to compete with you or had to prove something to you.

“You’ve always pushed me to do better, to be better because you’ve believed in me, and I always want to do the same for you. But I don’t know, it’s stupid but there are days where I feel myself falling back into old habits, where I feel like I have something to prove again and I just go storming in without thinking. I know that it doesn’t excuse anything, but I really am sorry, Cormac and I’m going to try and make sure it doesn’t happen again but I swear there are days where I’m just set to self-destruct.”

Cormac didn’t say anything for a while which ended up just worrying Meredith. She thought she had blown it with him. Why would he want to deal with her when she acted like that? This wasn’t a competition between them. They were two grown adults who loved each other, who wanted each other to thrive. Meredith knew that there was no need for what she had done today, and she understood why Cormac was angry. She just hoped that he would be able to forgive her and give her a chance to do better next time.

She jumped slightly when she felt an arm wrap around her shoulder and pull her into Cormac’s chest.

“I love you, Meredith Grey. Do you understand that? I don’t care if you win 100 Catherine Fox Awards and end up as Chief of Surgery here. I am going to be there every step of the way, cheering you on, being there when you need someone to lean on. Do you know why? Because I know that you would do the same for me. Today was a slip-up, an almighty one at that but there is never going to be a competition between us, Mer. At least not when it comes to our jobs… maybe when it comes to the last slice of cheesecake.”

Meredith felt a small smile crawl onto her face as she cuddled into his chest. “I can apologise to the parents if you want me to?”

Cormac just shook his head and rubbed her back. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll get it sorted.”

“I really am sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep apologising, Mer. I forgive you and we’ll move past this and keep moving forward, okay?” He felt her nod against his chest. “I’m in this for the long haul, Grey. I meant what I said, I’ll be there to support you through everything. You’re going to set the world ablaze and I’m just glad that I get a front-row seat.”

[cerinefalls]

Dinner Date (Kirishima xReader)

Category: Fluff

Word count: 2,733

{Do not repost, please!}

Mina's bottle of fate sat in the center of the 1A circle. Every night this green bottle that she'd grown oh so attached to would pick the chores each dorm-mate would have to complete. Now, it was the third spin. You all knew what that meant;  Dinner! Who was in charge of the food class 1A would consume before their good night's rest?

"And in charge of tonight's dinner is..." Mina paused for dramatic effect, Hagakure patting on the floor to provide a drumroll. At least- you thought it was Hagakure. No one could truly tell the origins of that mysterious noise.

The bottle spun, and spun, and spun, eventually slowing to a stop in front of Kirishima. That was a surprise! Eijiro was the last person you'd expect the 'bottle of fate' to land on for dinner, but here it was! The neck of the bottle pointed straight at him.

"Oh? Haha, guess it's me, then." Kirishima humbly accepted the role, though Mina, your event coordinator, didn't seem to agree.

"Oh no, no, no, no, that won't work." Mina shook her head, yellow eyes landing directly on you before she spoke her next sentence. "Kirishima, you need adult supervision in the kitchen. Since we don't have that..." The rest of class 1A turned to Sato, but Mina stayed focused on you. What was she planning?

"Whaddaya mean, Mina?" Kirishima sounded disappointed- but not shocked.

"You're not to be trusted around a hot stove. Bottle of fate chooses them to monitor you." Mina pointed her finger your way, earning quite a few confused faces from the rest of 1A.

"You didn't even spin! Wouldn't Sato-" Someone from the crowd chimed, but Mina dismissed their concern.

"Sato is a baker, not a babysitter. I trust their supervision more." She backed her opinion, walking by to grab both you and Kirishima by the back of the collar and drag you to the kitchen. It seemed she was dead set in this idea.

"Make sure he doesn't kill us," She requested, closing the door behind her.

The 1A dorm's main kitchen. Not many people went in here normally. Between breakfast and lunch, the school did a good job of making sure everyone was fed. Dinner, on the other hand, was another story.

"Well... what are your plans?" You asked, turning around to spot an impressed Kiri. He was staring at everything with a pleasantly surprised look on his face. Mina was right to send him in here with help. It didn't even look like Kirishima knew what a stove was with how interested he was in its workings.

"This is great!" He beamed. Maybe he did know what to do in here? "I want to make something good for everyone. They all worked hard today. Any ideas?" Had he turned to you for ideas? If anyone would know what this class liked, it was Kiri. You shook your head, not feeling as though you were the best pick for the job.

"Go with your gut choice," You suggested. Kirishima thought for a moment, a confident smile soon tugging at the corners of his lips.

"We need to go to the store." He nodded.

"What?" You were sent with him to stop him from making silly choices. This? This had to be the silliest choice he could've made. "It's after curfew, Kirishima," You reminded him, but it didn't appear he'd heard you.

"We'll be back before dark and feed everyone something they'll enjoy!" He nodded, solidifying his choice. Maybe he thought it wasn't as late as it was? The sun hadn't gone down as early as it usually did, so it wasn't impossible he'd believed that. Oh well, you'd been tasked to watch him, so wherever he went you had to follow and keep him out of trouble. He was smart, so it was unlikely something bad would happen, but it'd be better for two heads rather than one if something went wrong. It wasn't like he gave you much more time to protest, either, because almost as soon as those words left his mouth, the two of you exited the back door.

It was still bright outside- not optimal for sneaking out, but luckily for the two of you, no one noticed as you slipped through the bushes and onto the main road. It was hard to remember how you got past the wall. All you knew was that you'd have to do it again. That could be problematic.

"Almost there," Kiri smiled. He was excited to make everyone happy! You couldn't possibly tell him this might not be a good idea. You didn't have it in you to disappoint him and make him go back. You were nearly there anyway! Surely toughing it out wouldn't be so hard.

The two of you slowly approached what looked to be a strip of shops, each with their lights on. Everywhere was open? Wasn't it late? No time to ask questions, though. Kirishima took your hand into his own as the two of you stepped onto the crosswalk and crossed the road. For someone with a hardening quirk, his hands were shockingly soft. He was noticeably trying his best not to grip too hard, only wanting to guide you to the other side of the street. Once you were safe and across he let you go, which was almost disappointing.

"This is the place!" He smiled, opening the door for you. What you stepped into was nothing you'd expected. It was the most beautiful produce shop you'd ever seen! The walls were lined with a rainbow of fruits and vegetables. From onions and mushrooms to chives and garlic, everything looked fresh and healthy.

"What did you want to get from here?" You asked, following Kirishima down the isle of greens and spices.

"Since everyone's probably tired from training all day, I decided to make them some comfort food. You can't go wrong with ramen!" It was honestly adorable how he'd put so much thought into this, but his answer didn't fully tell you why you were off-campus.

"That's wonderful, Kirishima- but didn't we have everything we needed in the kitchen? I swear I saw a whole pantry of noodles, and there's pork in the fridge." You were trying to understand his thought process. Was there something you didn't have in the dorm kitchen? You could've sworn they stocked each one with everything you'd need.

"Because they thought of everything except for..." Kirishima trailed as he gently took your hand again and lead you past the greens and to the back. Reds. In front of you was a wall of peppers.

"Woah- do you think everyone would be able to handle that?" You asked, concerned.

"Yep! I'm picking something mild enough for even Tokoyami to handle- I think birds get sick if you give them anything too spicy." Kirishima nodded.  He had the right idea... though that line made you laugh harder than you'd like to admit.

Soon enough he'd gotten what he needed and you were heading back to school. The uneasy feeling you'd felt before was returning as you crossed the road. This time around, Kirishima stopped in front of the wooded path and turned to you.

"Your hand is shaking. Are you alright?" He asked, hiking the grocery bag up onto his arm so that he could use his free hand to check your temperature. "You're warm, but no fever." He mumbled to himself.

"Yeah! I'm fine, just..." You started to tell him what was wrong but didn't want to worry him. You trusted him. Kirishima was responsible enough not to get the two of you in trouble, even if it felt like he was about to. Why did you even feel a sense of responsibility for him? It was a random task Mina threw on you, but it felt like you were bound to it.

"Just... what? Do you need to sit down? Were you tired?" It appeared 'trying not to worry him' hadn't gone according to plan. Kirishima led you to the base of the path and sat you down on a bench, hovering over you. He was examining you from head to toe, trying to find what the problem was.

"No, no, really. I'm doing okay, Kirishima." You attempted to reassure him, and he smiled at the effort- but wasn't convinced.

"Are you sure? I can carry you if you aren't okay to walk. Did something scare you? Is it quirk-related?" He went on and on with questions, trying to make sure you were okay. As the sky began to change colors, your unrest only worsened. "Let's get you back as soon as possible. Maybe Momo can make you something." Kirishima resolved, looking up at the amber sky. It was getting late, and he didn't want to cause any problems.

"Yes, let's." You agreed, happy he'd finally started walking again. He was closer to you this time, doing his best to hold you steady as you rushed back to the building. Then, he did something that truly shocked you. He went right up to the gate and walked through! There wasn't a problem at all, and you felt as though something was really wrong.

You stepped back into the dorm's kitchen and sat down on the nearest seat you could find. After letting you catch your breath, Kirishima put down the peppers and walked over to you again, sitting down at your side.

"Okay, you can talk to me. What's up?" He asked.

"Nothing! We're back safe. I'm ok." You replied, doing your best to settle your nerves. You truly hoped there wouldn't be any repercussions for tonight's events.

"I've got it from here. I promise I won't burn down the building. Mina was just overreacting." Kirishima chuckled to himself about that one.  "You go on to bed. I'll bring you dinner when it's done, m'kay?"

"What? No, no, I'm fine! I promise it's-"

"I insist. Go on up to your room! I'll be there to make sure you're better soon." Kirishima aided you in standing and leaving the kitchen. When you stepped out, you were met with copious amounts of stares and whispers. Almost immediately, Mina rushed to your side.

"Where were you! You look like you've seen a ghost! Let me help you to your room." Why was everyone so worried? Did you look that upset? You tried not to let it show,  but it was making sense now that Kirishima hadn't believed you. Maybe you'd let the worry seep into your appearance.

Mina helped you up the stairs and into your room, shutting the door behind her. Oh no, was this a lecture? You sure hoped not. It didn't... look that way, though. Mina just sat on the base of your bed and watched as you got under the covers and relaxed.

"Good. Now you can tell me what happened. We checked the kitchen and neither of you were in there. Was something wrong? Is Kirishima ok? Bakugo was about to -" Her questions would have run on and on had you not stopped her.

"Everything is fine, Mina. He took me to a shop so he could buy something to use for dinner." You explained.

"Then... why did you look so scared when you came back? Jeez, I thought one of the fake scenarios we'd come up with had actually happened." She whined, but she was relieved. Your safety was what class 1A had worried about while you were out, after all.

"I was worried about curfew..." You explained to mina how you'd simply felt anxious about the time. She laughed! Not the reaction you expected, but it was oddly comforting in a way. It almost made you feel like...

"Well, you sure were worried for nothing." Mina giggled. "The time went back last night, silly." Of course! Your clock had stayed the same because it was analog. You'd completely forgotten about the time change with how busy your day had been. Mina couldn't help but continue to giggle at how your face was so quickly relaxed. "I'll tell Kirishima you're alright and take over your shift for you. You rest up."

Time passed slowly as you waited for something to happen. Alone in your room, all you could do was feel a bit dumb at how you'd handled things. The annual time change! How had you forgotten something as crucial as that? No wonder you got past the gates fine- it wasn't nearly past curfew! You felt even worse for doubting your friend. There's no way he'd willingly put you in danger like that. Suddenly, you felt the urge to apologize.

There was a knock at the door. It looked like your chance had come.

"Can I come in?" A familiar voice called, muffled from the shield of your door. It was Kirishima. Just as he'd promised, he came to check on you. Even after Mina told him what had you worried, he still showed up.

"Of course!" You replied, an anxious tightness building in your stomach. You were embarrassed, and you could see by the look on his face when he walked in that Kirishima could tell.

"So, uh... Mina told me why you were so shakey before." He was trying not to laugh as he walked into your room, closing the door with his heel. Kirishima was holding a dinner tray with a bowl of ramen sat atop. Had he really brought you dinner after all this? You were looking at a man of his word.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about all that by the way. I knew you wouldn't do anything to-"

"Get you in trouble?" He interrupted. "I know you trust me, and Mina made it a really big point to tell me in case I didn't, don't worry." Kirishima placed the tray down on your nightstand. You found it a bit odd that he hadn't given it straight to you, but it made sense. You couldn't talk with your mouth full, and it was obvious he had something to say.

"I'm glad I don't have to explain that, then." A nervous laugh escaped the back of your throat as you sat up in bed to talk to him.

"Woah, Woah, Woah, I didn't say that.  I wanna know why you didn't tell me." Kirishima sat crisscross at the foot of your bed directly in line with you, head tilted with curiosity.

"Well, I didn't want you to worry about me or anything. I trusted that you knew what you were doing, so I didn't want to say anything that made it seem like I doubted you." You explained hurriedly. All you wanted to do was let him know you trusted him. "I'm sorry for doubting you- or, for seeming like I did. I was just worried, is all."

"You have nothing to apologize for." Kiri shushed you by waving his hand as if to swat away your statements. He then shot you a smile so friendly only he could have managed to scrounge up. "I wanted to apologize for worrying you. You wouldn't have stressed so  much if I'd just asked you what you said before we left."

"What? Apologize to me? You did an amazing job with dinner and tried to make sure I was okay the whole time you were focused on it. How about I say... thank you?" You suggested, opening your arms and pushing the covers off of you.

It'd taken Kirishima a minute to understand what you were trying to do, but when he did he was more than happy to scoot on over and give you a big hug. A bear hug, if you will. He wrapped his arms around you and you could almost hear his smile through his breath over your shoulder.

"How about I thank you?" He whispered.

"For..?" You questioned.

"Spending all that time with me!" He Smiled, backing away from the hug but not letting you go completely. "Maybe we can go out like that during the day sometime?" Kirishima suggested.

"I think we should." You nodded.

The two of you spent the night chatting and laughing. It was needless to say he'd more than forgiven you. You didn't make him upset at all! Kirishima was just glad you were feeling well. He left you to finish your food in peace, but something told you you'd be seeing him again in the morning.

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Good as Gold pt.21

[part twenty] | [part twenty-two] [prostitute!jaskier masterpost] 

 After Wyzima, Geralt almost doesn't go back at all. Last time was... not normal and Geralt can't let himself slip any further. Setting aside the fact that Jaskier wasn't working or that they fucked in his bed in a house he owns, it was just different. The sex was different - more intimate in a way Geralt doesn't know how to deal with even days later. The only thing he understands now is that it can't happen again; something has changed and Geralt can't continue under the circumstances. It isn't fair to Jaskier and he'll only end up hurting both of them in the long run.

He's become attached. As hard as he tried not to, something about Jaskier wormed his way under his skin and settled in and now he's here. He could never ask Jaskier for anything, could never expect a whore from Hagge to want any of the things Geralt longs for, so he has to end it. And he has to do it today or he'll lose his nerve. Winter is coming and he'll be heading up to the keep soon. He'll have his brothers to keep his mind off the lingering loneliness and in the spring he'll just have to find a different brothel. Maybe he'll wait until he gets to Novigrad and visit the Passiflora. Whatever he decides to do, he needs to finish this first.

Geralt approaches slowly, rehearsing what he wants to say over in his head. The building looms up in front of him and he ducks his head, refusing to acknowledge it. With any luck, Jaskier will be free and Geralt can just go up to his room and they can talk privately. He'll tell Jaskier what he came here to tell him and then when he leaves he'll go into the forest and find something to hunt to work off the excess energy.

The plan falls apart almost instantly. Geralt is so focused on getting upstairs and to Jaskier's room that he doesn't notice the man sitting on the other side of the room. Not, at least, until Jaskier slips up behind him, hands on his waist. Jaskier hums as he presses up against him and Geralt barely refrains from sighing in frustration.

"I missed you," Jaskier purrs and Geralt has to steel himself against the swell of emotion. It rises up through his chest and threatens to drown him.

"Don't say that."

"I did."

"I don't believe you." Geralt pulls away and when he turns, Jaskier is looking at him skeptically, his lips twisted in concern. "It's your job, I get it and that's fine, but don't tell me that." Jaskier's frown deepens and his shoulders slump.

"Maybe we should talk upstairs." He speaks with certainty, but his expression is still worried and Geralt doesn't bother with a response before heading for the stairs. Jaskier follows.

He slips ahead of him on the landing, entering the room ahead of Geralt. It's late and the light is dim enough that Jaskier crosses to the dresser, lighting the lantern that sits on it. He proceeds around the room, lighting candles as Geralt shuffles in and shuts the door behind him. Now that he's here, he's beginning to regret letting Jaskier bring him up to his room.

Geralt doesn't have a home and there are few places he feels comfortable but over the past years, Jaskier's room has become something of a haven to him. The prospect of leaving and never returning sits heavily in his stomach. He's going to change his mind if he doesn't say something soon. But he’s made a decision. He can’t ask Jaskier to leave the comforts of his home to travel the wilderness with him; the Path is no place for anyone but a Witcher. Jaskier deserves love, deserves a family and someone who will return home to him every night and Geralt can’t offer him that.

Jaskier finishes with the lighting and comes to stand in front of Geralt again. Neither of them has spoken and his expression is carefully schooled into something neutral but Geralt can hear the way his heart beats just a little too quickly. He can't imagine why - Jaskier has never been afraid of him. Geralt can't find the words to say what he wants, so Jaskier sighs and speaks instead.

"You know I don't charge so much just so I can trick people into coming back to me. I've never lied to you, Geralt. I've never misled you. I did miss you.”

"Hmm."

"Geralt, what's going on? I thought-" he cuts himself off, looking away and up to the ceiling. "Have I done something? If you want- If I've done something to upset you I'll be happy to refund you but I'd like to know what it was."

"Nothing," Geralt mumbles. He had this all planned out, knew every word he wanted to say and had a counter for any possible dissuasion. But now that Jaskier is in front of him, looking small and soft and hurt, he can't remember any of it.

"Right."

He has to say something. If he doesn't this is going to get worse or Geralt is going to leave without saying anything and Jaskier doesn't deserve this - even if it is just a business agreement. He can’t bring himself to do it.

"I have to go."

Jaskier sighs but he sounds resigned, not frustrated. "You just got here."

“I know, but I- I shouldn’t stay. I should leave you to it.” His stomach feels like it's in his throat and he struggles to find the words. They’re right there on the tip of his tongue and he can hear himself saying them, but he can’t make them come out.

"Why?" Jaskier speaks so softly Geralt nearly doesn't hear him over the beating of his heart and the deafening silence between them.

"It's for the best."

"Geralt, tell me what I did. I tried to be good for you, I tried to give you everything you wanted. I don't understand what I did wrong."

Geralt can’t even look at him, can’t face the sheer devastation in his face. Jaskier doesn’t understand that this is what’s best for them. Eventually, Geralt will adjust to being alone again and Jaskier will find some lovely young thing to make him happy. They’ll have a couple of kids, grow old together, and Jaskier will forget about the Witcher he once knew.

"You did nothing wrong," Geralt breathes and he can feel something clench tight in his chest and not let go. "I should go." He makes to leave but Jaskier's hand brushes against his forearm.

"Just... stay for tonight? It's late and it's getting cold." He sounds sad and while Geralt knows he should leave, every part of him is screaming to stay, to wrap Jaskier in his arms and never let him go. He can't - for both their sakes. But he can stay for once last night.

"Okay," he agrees, "just for tonight."

Jaskier relaxes somewhat at that and turns to tend to the fire. Geralt watches as he crouches before it, surprised at how quickly he gets the wood crackling. He pulls the grate across once it's burning steadily and crosses to sit on the bed. Geralt hasn't moved from his spot in front of the door, but he shuffles over when Jaskier beckons him.

"Tell me then, what can I do for you tonight?" he tries to sound enthusiastic but it doesn't quite land.

"Nothing. I don't want anything tonight." Jaskier's sadness spikes and Geralt shuts his eyes. "It's not anything you've done. I just- can we just rest?"

"Of course," Jaskier says, "you must be tired. Come," he holds out his hands and against all his better sense, Geralt lets Jaskier take his hands, rubbing his thumbs against the palms of Geralt's hands.

He pulls him forward and when Jaskier releases his hands, Geralt curls his fingers into fists, unsure what to do with himself. He lets himself be guided to the bed and reluctantly lets Jaskier undress him. He struggles to keep his hands to himself, struggles to keep from pulling Jaskier into his lap. To keep from kissing him.

If things were different, he thinks he might have had a chance at something more with Jaskier, but that's not his life. The life of a Witcher is dark and solitary; too dangerous for anyone else. Jaskier had said he wasn't unloveable, but that doesn't mean anyone will love him. The capacity for something doesn't necessarily ensure it's existence. And Geralt is better off on his own anyway - this dalliance with Jaskier has only proven that.

When he's been stripped down to his smallclothes, Geralt lays on the bed, shifting toward the wall to leave space for Jaskier to join him. He does after a few moments, pulling a thick wool blanket over both of them. He faces Geralt, avoiding looking him in the eyes, but maybe that's for the best.

Geralt will never forget the colour of his eyes, the soft slope of his nose, any of it. Jaskier will be as clear as this in his mind until the day he dies. Geralt isn't sure if it's better or worse than forgetting about him altogether.

Neither of them speaks and after a short while Jaskier's breath evens out and he relaxes into the bed. He shifts in his sleep, turning over so he's facing into the room and Geralt aches to slip an arm over his hip, pull him closer. And why shouldn't he? What could it hurt when he'll be gone soon anyway.

So he tugs Jaskier close and curls around him, sliding his hand up his chest and holding it there. He can feel the beat of Jaskier's heart through his hand and he shuts his eyes, pressing his nose into his hair. Because it's just for tonight. When morning comes, he'll leave for good, so what's the harm in giving in one last time?

[gallavictorious]

11x03 Fill-In Ficlet: Use Your Words (Or Don’t)

How do they go from sniping at each other in the kitchen to enthusiastically banging it out just a little while later? And why on Earth is horrible, horrible dirty talk suddenly a thing?

Well, they have this whole conversation where they basically talk things through but, you know, in their Ian and Mickey way of not talking things through but totally talking things through. You know? Also, there are kisses.

Warnings for some truly atrocious attempts at dirty talk but no actual smut. Also vague displays of a fucked-up relationship with violence, and clueless dumbasses trying, and only halfway succeeding, to chill with the misogyny and toxic masculinity. For all that this is mostly ridiculous and self-indulgent fluff.

Read below or on AO3.

---

They walk home from the Alibi together, but six feet apart and in silence.

Dinner is mostly silence, too, the celebration of Carl's first arrest dampened by Lip's outburst and Debbie storming off. Lip and Tami soon excuse themselves; Liam has homework; it's Carl's turn to do the dishes. (That mostly means they won't get done, but at least they'll know whom to blame when there's no clean plates or knives in the morning.)

Mickey's pours himself another glass of Jameson, but pauses when Ian abruptly rises from the table. His husband doesn't spare him a second glance though, but merely puts the half-thawed vegetables back in the freezer and walks off with a half-hearted “night” to his two younger brothers.

Well, fuck you too.

Mickey can feel Liam's eyes on him, but for once the kid keeps his mouth shut.

Smart kid.

Mickey takes his time emptying the glass. Takes the time to fill it up again and empty it once more too, while pointedly not listening to a single word Carl is saying about the fucking arrest he made.

Then it's getting late and there's nothing for it and he's sick and tired of them not being fine anyway, so fuck it.

He leaves the glass on the table for Carl to tidy away.

In their room Ian's sitting on the bed with his back towards the wall and a book in his lap. He looks up when Mickey enters, but doesn't say anything and promptly turns his attention back to his paperback. His jaw is set, but his shoulders slumped. Angry still, then - but tired even more than angry. Defeated, maybe.

Mickey fucking hates to see it.

He busies himself by the drawers, aimlessly rifling through the socks for something to do with his hands. “So. Quit your job?”

There's a brief pause, as if Ian's trying to determine whether Mickey's trying to start something again, and whether or not to strike first with a snarky reply. In the end he settles for a soft exhalation and,  “Yep. Tried to make me to work for free through my lunch break.”

He'd told Mickey as much already, at the Alibi. Hadn't gone so good, so this time Mickey tries for a different response: “Fuck 'em. We'll be fine 'til you find something else. Too good for that fucking place anyway.”

Another pause, long enough that Mickey turns from his fumbling with the socks to look at his husband. Ian's staring down at his book, mouth opening and closing a few times, like he's on the edge of saying something but then thinks better of it.

“Yeah,” he mutters at long last. “Don't know that I am anymore. Bipolar ex-convict in the worst economy in fucking lifetime? Not seeing a lot of options for me here.” Before Mickey has time to think of an appropriate response to that Ian's eyes darts to his face; darts away just as quickly. “Manager called me a little bitch.”

Oh. Okay. Yeah. Fuck.

Moving over to the bed, Mickey sits down on the edge of it. “That manager's a fucking idiot. The hell does he know? That's bullshit.”

Ian lifts his head at that, looking at Mickey with something that might be hope tempered with wary skepticism, and a hint of challenge. “Really?”

Mickey meets his gaze without flinching; holds it for a moment. “Yeah, man. Bet that asshole knew you could break him in half without breaking a sweat, that's why he's spouting stupid fucking stupid shit like that.”

A beat, to let that sink in, and then Mickey allows his lips curl into a grin, pulling his legs up on the bed to crawl over to Ian and crowd him: “'Cause you know you're the toughest motherfucker on the South Side, so big and so strong and so manly.” He reaches out to squeeze Ian's left bicep for emphasis.

“You're a dick.” But Ian doesn't pull away and he's starting to smile, as Mickey hoped he would; it's in his eyes first, softening and a glimmer, and then it's on his lips, growing wider.

Mickey feels his own grin grow wider too, as something in his chest loosens and lets up.

“Yeah?” he asks, eyebrows suggestively raised as he, ignoring the dull protest of his aching ribs, leans in to let his lips brush over Ian's in a not-quite-a-kiss. “Whatcha gonna do about it, huh? Gonna bend me over and pound me so hard I fucking scream? Gonna make me beg for your... your big, fat cock?”

Ian tilts his head to the side, brow furrowed in faux affront. “You calling my dick fat?”

“Think I've got the right to, Tim Kruger, I've choked on it enough times.”

A snort of surprised laughter and then Ian's hand is on the back of his head, pulling him in for a kiss that is hard and hungry and coming home. Mickey shifts to straddle his thighs, their lips never parting, and fuck, it's just been a few days but it's been too fucking long.

It goes on for some time; Ian's arms around him, fingers scratching against his scalp; Mickey's hands running up and down Ian's sides, as they kiss and they kiss and they kiss.

At long last, with a long sigh, Ian pulls back a little, his eyes searching Mickey's as he runs a thumb over his cheek.

“You want me to do that?” he asks after a moment, and there's just the faintest note of uncertainty in his voice.

Mickey doesn't like it. He doesn't want Ian to be uncertain about him, about them, ever. But he bites down on the urge to bristle. Takes a deep breath. “Do what?”

“Bend you over.” A tentative, lopsided smile. “Make you beg”

Ah. “Ain't never said no to that shit before, Gallagher.” How the hell is that even a question?  Okay, there'd been this morning, kind of, and maybe a few times when they just started fucking and he had issues and things got a little too intense or whatever, and he's not so much for the actual begging, but in general, Mickey's never been opposed to Ian getting a little – or a lot – decisive with him.

Least not as long as he doesn't make him feel lesser than for liking it that way.

“Mm.” Ian nods, but he doesn't lean back in to resume the kiss. Instead he reaches out to run his hand over Mickey's thigh, idly, and with a pensive look on his face.

Mickey very, very badly wants to tell him that now that that's cleared up maybe you could get on with it but he's determined not to be (too much of) an asshole tonight; to be patient. He waits, and eventually Ian looks up. The uncertainty has seemingly fled; the look in his green eyes is calm once more, and direct:

“So just to be clear: you're not exclusively a top now?”

“What? Hell no.” Mickey makes a face, genuinely taken aback by the notion, but then he shrugs. “Doesn't mean I'd mind switching it up once in a while, though. We've tried all kinds of new shit after we got married, figured it might be fun to try that too.” He pauses, chewing his lip. “Thought you'd be cool with it.”

Ian smiles, reaching out to give a playful little tug to Mickey's hair. “Give me some warning next time and I will be.” Abruptly, his smile turns devilish. “After all, how could I resist such a stunning embodiment of pure masculine prowess?”

Mickey's eyes widen. Oh. Uh-huh. All right then.

“I dunno,” he says, pushing hard for feigned thoughfulness even as he pushes his ass down on Ian's groin, wiggling just a little. “Seems like six pack-packing, strong-willed, stoic soldier boy like you could resist just about anything.”

Ian's quiet laugher is cut short by a sharp intake of breath as Mickey leans in to nip at his ear. “Even a – ah – man-swole hardass?”

“Yeah, 'cause you're such a top dog alpha male.“

“Ultra super power bottom.“

“Fierce and ruthless devastator of assholes.”

“Yeah, asshole is right... Ow! Okay, you're going down … you big manly boss man.“

---

If there is a moment, quite some time later, when they're both happy and spent and relaxing in each other's arms –

If there is a moment, when Ian's eyes stray to the bruises on on Mickey's side, and if he reaches out to let his fingers brush over them in the whisper of a touch, if a shadow passes over his face –

Mickey will catch his hand and bring it up to his lips to press a quick kiss to it.

“Looks worse than it is,” he will say and Ian's lips will twist, in rueful smile or grimace or both:

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Bastard who jumped me hits like a fucking - “ Mickey will break off and make a disgusted face. “Hits like a... a... a fucking weak person. Jesus Christ. Fucking V.”

Ian will chuckle. A bit weakly, perhaps, still a little lost to the lingering memories of the afternoon, but he will chuckle. Will pull Mickey closer to him, carefully; push his nose to his hair and breathe him in. “I love you.”

And Mickey will smile. “Mm. I know. Love you, too.”

---

A/N: Listen, I don't begrudge anyone engaging in bad dirty talk if that's what gets them going, but I didn't really expect it for Ian and Mickey. I guess this is my attempt to wed what we saw in mid-credits scene to my already established perception of the characters. Oh, and I have a kink for understated reconciliation so there was no way in hell I wouldn't jump on this. XD That also means I want to read ALL THE FIC written on this topic, so if you write/see any, please let me know?

Tim Kruger is a gay porn star with a huge dick, btw. I know this because I googled "gay porn star huge dick". I have some regrets.

[recurring-polynya]

Hey this is for our Redhead's bday. Its like a fluff and angst with a happy ending. Is it possible to make a Renruki based on Hanahaki disease? Do you know about this fanfic trope? Its like a person who doesn't know or think their love is requited, will cough up petals. They can only be saved with a confession or accept that they cannot be together with their love interest. I don't want it to sound too morbid. Let me know if its possible.

Wikipedia description for better understanding:

Hanahaki Disease is a fictional disease where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible if left untreated. There is no set time for how long this disease lasts but it may last from 2 weeks to 3 months, in rare cases up to 18 months, until the victim dies unless the feelings are returned or the plants are surgically removed. There is also no set flower that blossoms in the lungs but it may be the enamoured’s favourite flower or favourite colour. Hanahaki can be cured through surgical removal of the plants' roots, but this excision also has the effect of removing the patient's capacity for romantic love. It may also erase the patient’s feelings for and memories of the enamoured. It can also be cured by the reciprocation of the victim's feelings. These feelings cannot be feelings of friendship but must be feelings of genuine love. The victim may also develop Hanahaki Disease if they believe the love to be one-sided but once the enamoured returns the feelings, they will be cured. In some literature, other symptoms can be fever, uncontrollable shaking, loss of appetite, low body temperature, and hallucinations. Even after curing, with or without surgery, there can be irreversible damage to the lungs and, although very rare, in some cases the disease cannot be cured.

Ha ha ha, of course I have heard of Hanahaki disease, my brain is 100% rotted by fanfic.

I. hate. Hanahaki disease. It is probably my #1 most hated trope, up there with every single soulmate thing that treats love like some sort of inescapable destiny and strips the characters of any agency. To me, falling in love may be more or less involuntary, but the choice of whether or not to pursue it is the very crux of romance.

In any case, I was just going to... not do this one, except that I walked around mad for half a day and then wrote this up in, like, two hours. This sounds terrible, but this is actually an ideal day for a writer! I am really happy with how it came out! Thanks for the prompt!! I mean this with absolute sincerity!

Warning: Bad language, because Renruki aren’t any happier about any of this than I am.

Read on ao3 or ff.net

🌺   🌺   🌺  

“How the fuck,” asked Rukia, “did you get that into my house?”

Sitting on Byakuya’s good tea table was a heavy green glass bottle of Rukongai’s worst rotgut. And two saucers.

Sitting cross legged and cross on the other side of the table was Abarai Renji.

“I told the captain it was necessary. Sit down.”

Usually, Rukia would take being ordered around like that as an invitation to call him names, but there was something angry and serious in Renji’s tone, so she sat instead, and let Renji pour each of them a saucer of something that smelled like lamp oil. Silently, they tossed back their drinks.

“You want to tell me what this is about?” Rukia asked as Renji refilled.

Without speaking, Renji pulled a carefully folded handkerchief out of his kosode and slid it across the table.

Rukia’s hands clenched into fists.

“Go ahead,” Renji said offhandedly, sipping his sake.

She didn’t want to. She knew what it would be. But she did it anyway, reached over and flipped open the handkerchief to reveal a handful of mangled, half-rotted flower petals. Hot rage ran through her veins. “Are you going through my trash now?” she demanded.

“No, I asked the captain to,” Renji replied coolly. “I assume he had someone do it for him, but he didn’t say.”

“Fuck you,” Rukia snapped.

Renji stared at her, his eyes cold and angry. “That night we camped in Hueco Mundo. Before we caught up with Ichigo and the others. You coughed up half a camellia and a good inch of stem in your sleep. I… figured we had more pressing concerns at the time, but I asked your brother to keep an eye on you after we got home.”

Rukia took a gulp of her drink. “Well, congratulations, Detective Abarai, you cracked the case. You’re so smart that I’m sure you know how these things end, so we don’t need to discuss it.”

Renji squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then opened them again. “It doesn’t… it doesn’t have to be a death sentence, you know?”

“It’s complicated,” Rukia grumbled. “I’m not explaining it to you, but it’s not… solvable, and I can’t… I won’t give up. Not this time.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Renji continued, his voice quieter. “There are ways to… manage it. Live with it.”

Rukia’s brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s a disease of the soul, y’know, not the body, which is why humans don’t get it. With a strong enough will, you can keep it in check. The key, the thing that really lets it get ahold of your lungs, is when you start to lose hope.”

“You want me to live in denial, then?”

“No, not quite. But there’s some… techniques. We live a really long time, Rukia. Things may seem one way now, but… but who’s to say how they’ll be in sixty or seventy years, right? I mean, it’s not easy, but if you can imagine sort of… jarring up your feelings and packing them away for later.”

“Like pickles.”

“Yeah, like pickles.”

Rukia finished her saucer and reached for the bottle.

“Another thing that works sometimes is to try to…” Renji gestured helplessly. “Reframe it. I’m sure you’ve read poems about courtly love.”

Rukia made a face. “I fail to see how reading old-timey thirst poetry about wasting away from wanting to sleep with someone else’s wife is going to help anything.”

Renji’s face took on a pained cast. “Yeah, I guess some of them are like that. But being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back doesn’t mean your life is...meaningless. There can be something really beautiful and noble and sorta romantic in and of itself about loving with no hope of reciprocation. That you can still be of… of service to a person, even if they never notice you.”

“Renji, that’s fucking nonsense,” Rukia informed him, topping up his drink as well. “Where do you get these ideas?”

“Or you can just really absorb yourself in some goal. Be so busy you don’t have time to worry about love. Time passes quickly when--”

“Renji, just stop. I know you’re trying to help, but I’m… I’m sick and no amount of made-up wishful thinking is going to make me better.”

Renji’s face rapidly cycled through a number of emotions, like he kept coming up with things to say and then biting his tongue instead. “It’s not fucking made up, okay? People have lived with it for years, you know. Decades. Fuck, Rukia do you know selfish this is?”

“‘Selfish’?” Rukia echoed incredulously. The alcohol was starting to hit, and it made her feel unmoored, a raft floating in a sea of her own grief and anger. What did he know anyway? He was married to his job and his duty. The truest companion, the most generous soul, so free with his heart to everyone he called friend, but he didn’t know jack shit about being in love. Renji was the most transparent person in Soul Society. If he had ever fallen in love, it would have been public knowledge. Maybe his heart didn’t even work that way. What the Hell did he know?

“Yeah,” Renji spat back. “Selfish and cruel. How can you love someone-- even if they don’t love you back-- and-- and-- let yourself die from it? What kind of a monster would do that? You can hold on, Rukia. You’re so strong, I know you can. Just… just listen to me, for once. I can help you.”

Rukia felt her eyes burning, so she grabbed the bottle and took a long drink from it until her whole face burned. “Fuck. Off,” she replied, slamming it down on the table.

“I won’t,” Renji growled. “Ichigo cares a lot for you and it would kill him, Rukia, you hear me? You can’t do this to him, or-- or the rest of us, either.”

Rukia stared at Renji uncomprehendingly. The room was starting to swim. “What the fuck does any of this have to do with Ichigo?” She suddenly felt very tired, so she folded her arms and put her head down on them. “You fucking dumbass.”

[thetomorrowshow]

Slower Than Words Ch. 24

First  -  Previous  -  Next

I’ve been waiting for this one :)

cw: bad parenting, arguing, intense anger

~

“Hey, Lo? Do you have a minute?”

Logan’s eyes followed Patton as he went directly to his room, barely flashing a ‘hello’ at him. Then he returned his attention to a strangely nervous Remus. “Of course. What do you need to discuss?”

He almost invited Remus to sit on the couch with him, but he knew the man would decline. Instead, he stood, watching Remus hop from one foot to the other.

“Well,” Remus began after a moment’s hesitation, “this could sorta come as a surprise. But . . . I found them.” A small smile appeared on his face, immediately washed out by apprehension.

Logan smiled gently. “I would guess that by ‘them’, you mean your family. In that case, congratulations.” He stuck his hand out, and after a moment, Remus shook it. “I assume that is why all of your possessions have gone from being strewn about the living room to being contained in a trash bag?”

Remus’s teeth flashed in another quick smile as he nodded. “Yeah. Haven’t really been subtle, huh?”

Logan had been planning for this eventuality for quite some time, and had not been at all taken by surprise. Instead, he dropped the car key that Remus had just given him after returning home back into Remus’s hand. “I want it back, of course, preferably before the end of the month.”

Remus looked down at the keys, then to Logan, then back at his hand. Logan chuckled.

“Naw, I—how will you get to work?”

“I’ve already made arrangements, don’t worry about me.” And he had. One of his jobs was within walking distance, and a coworker had offered to carpool for his other job. He nodded at Remus. “I take it you’ve already quit?”

Remus ran a hand along his slack jaw, still staring at the key in his hand. “Y-yeah. Gave ‘em my letter two weeks ago. You sure?” he asked, almost as an afterthought.

“Of course I am,” Logan waved him off. “You need it more than I do right now. Find them.”

Remus laughed, almost shrill. “Thanks, thank you . . . so much, Lo. Not just for this. For everything.”

Logan inclined his head. “Thank you, too. For bringing my son back to me. Consider us, er, even,” he said. “Will you be leaving immediately?”

Remus didn’t say anything for half a minute, before nodding. “No reason not to, huh? Guess I’ll just . . . say bye to Pat and be on my way.”

Logan sat back down, content to let Remus pack his things into the car and exchange a private farewell with Patton. Thinking of Patton, Logan shifted uncomfortably. He could wait until Remus left to confront his son. Unfortunately, Patton may already have an idea of what was to come. If he had sought out his notebook, it would have not been found under his bed.

Finally, Remus was out the door, with a little wave and a spring in his step. It was time to speak to Patton.

-

Patton rubbed his face tiredly as he followed Father to the cramped kitchen. He really didn’t know what this was about, but he could guess. Now that Remus was leaving, he didn’t see how it was possible to continue with therapy. His weekly appointments would probably become monthly, then he would only still be in contact with the physical therapist in order to continue getting back to full strength. Today, for instance: it was around midday, and he had only had a therapy appointment and he was already exhausted. He’d been about to take a nap when Remus came to say goodbye.

Remus had promised to video chat with him, but Patton didn’t know how much help that would be with voice lessons. Up until now, he’d frequently been able to rest his hand on Remus’s throat and mouth to really understand how it was supposed to feel when he spoke. And with Father’s laptop not having a very good camera, it wasn’t very likely that he would be able to continue speaking lessons at all.

Not that he wasn’t happy for Remus! Patton was as excited as he could be that Remus was going to find his real family. He understood that. And he was sad that Remus was leaving, but not because it meant he was going to be stuck in this terrible apartment for even longer. He was going to miss him as a friend. He was going to miss teaching him sign, laughing at his jokes, his big smile when Patton managed to say a word correctly.

Losing Remus was losing his only friend. He’d already lost his love. Now it was just him and Father, in this tiny house that he could never leave. It was worse than the Haven, because at least then he could go outside. Now he was stuck in this acrid-smelling, too-small apartment. And without his best friend.

“Patton, I need to speak with you,” Father signed. Patton resisted throwing out something snarky and kept his hands by his sides.

“Earlier today, I was cleaning, and I happened to find this.” From the silverware drawer, Father pulled--

Oh no. Oh no. His notebook.

Patton tried not to let his sudden panic show in his face, but could feel his hands fidgeting. He shoved them in the pockets of Virgil’s jacket. This was fine. There was nothing wrong with learning to talk, or writing jokes. Maybe he’d been a bit frustrated in some of his journal entries, but that was normal. Everyone got frustrated sometimes. Father would understand.

“Son, I was not happy with what I found,” Father told him, and Patton’s heart sank. He fell into a chair, knowing exactly what it was. Sure, there was nothing wrong with learning to speak. For everyone else.

“You seem to have been teaching yourself how to speak audibly,” Father continued. “While I admire the effort and your willingness to learn, I have to tell you how disappointed I am. Learning something that could endanger you and this family behind my back? That is not something I will tolerate.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Patton asked cautiously. This was going a little better than he’d thought it would—Father hadn’t outright told him to stop yet.

“What is wrong is it is dangerous. Learning to speak and lip-read may seem appealing, but once others discover your talents, they will want to take you away. I am putting a stop to it right now.”

There it was. Patton felt tears well up in his eyes, but he wasn’t sad. He was angry. The fire that had been simmering in the bottom of his belly rose to his throat, and with stilted movements, he asked, “Who do you think is going to take me away?”

Father was losing his composure as well. He tugged at his own hair for a moment, hands spasming, before answering, “Anyone. They’ll take you away from me, and study you, or make you work, or hurt you. They won’t let you see the light of day ever again. I can’t let that happen! Not again!”

“Well, it kind of feels like you already did.” Patton’s hands moved furiously. Did he really want to say this? “I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re doing the exact same thing that they did.”

“No, I’m not.” Father reached out, but pulled himself back at the last moment. “I-I’m keeping you safe. You’re only a child.”

“Dad, I’m twenty-two!” The anger burst over the surface. Patton shoved back from the table and stood, chest heaving with adrenaline. The leg of the chair scraped against his calf as it fell to the floor. “I’m an adult! I finally got out of that godforsaken cult, and all you do is keep me trapped in this horrible apartment! I know what danger is, I lived through it. I nearly died in that place, starving to death as nobody opened the door. Well guess what? I’m starving again. I’m starving for sunlight, for open space, for the love of my life!”

“Patton—”

“I’m not finished!” Patton kicked the overturned chair, then the table leg, unable to feel the pain it surely brought. “You’re actually worse than them! You know why?”

Logan was crying, a single tear rolling down his cheek. The pain in his eyes only served to fuel Patton’s rant.

“Because Virgil’s out here!” Logan flinched, and Patton kicked the wall, leaving a dent. “Virgil’s out, somewhere, and I could find him, but you won’t let me out! We don’t have any money, but you won’t let me work! There’s nothing to do, but all you do is bring me more and more books that I don’t want! And you know what? I’m done!”

“Son, please—”

“No. I almost died back there. So you got me out. I’m dying here, so I’m getting myself out.”

Patton kicked the wall one last time, then picked up his notebook from the table, resisting the urge to throw it at Logan.

“Wait!”

He looked at his father, who was pressed against the cabinets. He was shaking, eyes wide with hurt and fear. Hastily, he signed, “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere is better than here.” By the look on Logan’s face, that sentence had come out close enough. He nodded curtly at his father, then stalked out of the kitchen, then out of the apartment, only pausing to grab his thin winter coat.

The door slammed shut behind him, and Logan fell to his knees.

-

Remus swung the door shut and threw the scraper to the floor of the car, feeling far too tired for not even having left yet. It didn’t normally get too cold around here, especially not now that it was March, but apparently a cold front had moved in overnight or something and it had been lightly snowing all day. He hadn’t thought it was enough to freeze the windshield--he’d just barely gotten back from taking Patton to therapy, after all—yet here he was, switching on the defrost and scraping off the windows.

He was just about ready to pull out, even had his hand on the gear, when the side door of the apartment complex burst open.

Patton came hurrying out, walking so quickly that Remus would think he was trying to escape a crab that kept snipping at his heels. The kid didn’t even give him a second glance as he walked in front of the car. Remus’s jaw dropped as his head turned to follow him—across the sidewalk, into the parking lot, then right up beside the car.

Patton yanked open the passenger side door with surprising strength, then threw himself into the seat and slammed it behind him. His face was red and wet, Remus noticed, as he roughly drew his sleeve across his face. Then Patton turned to him.

“I’m going with you,” he signed, his movements quick and short. Remus picked his jaw up off the floor and quirked an eyebrow.

“And daddy’s okay with that?” he asked aloud, signing along. Patton rolled his eyes and turned away.

“No.”

Remus shrugged. “Ooookay then!” He made to get out of the car, but Patton grabbed his arm.

“Please—don’t tell him. He’ll make me stay.”

Remus looked up at the building, then back at Patton. He looked like he’d really gone through it, poor kid. And he’d been trying to tell Logan for months that he needed to loosen up, let Patton explore the Outside a bit.

“First place with a phone we hit out of town, I’m calling him,” Remus compromised. Patton nodded, pulling the zippered edges of his two jackets closer around him. Remus hadn’t noticed previously, but now he saw the blue notebook laying on his lap. He reached over and tapped it lightly. “Get some practice in.”

Patton nodded, awkwardly pulling his seatbelt one-handed while he flipped it open with the other hand. Remus gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile, then shifted the gear.

He was on his way home. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he muttered something that Patton, his nose already buried in his notebook, had no way of seeing.

“Hope you like Sharon.”

~

Taglist: @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @melancholicbear @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera @xionbean @sanderssides-angst @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @maybedefinitely404 @broken-pencils @thewhimsicallibrarytech @doomllily @hereissananxiousmess  @judyismydog  @arodynamic-enby @at-that-one-nerd @therapysides @awkwardandanxiousfander @thekitchenpan @im-an-anxious-wreck @larkiaquail

[flooffybits]

Invitation From Nightmare City

When imagination and reality blend so well with each other, are you sure you can tell each other apart? Or will you let doubt and fear steer you away from the truth?

So this will be part 1 of the Dreamcatcher series I’ve decided to write. Obviously, since this is only the beginning, there’s barely anything, but once we reach part 2 or 3, I think you’ll all understand what’s happening. While I do have the flow of the story planned out, I will be open to suggestions later on if you have any so feel free to send me messages and feedback!

Start || Next

A month or two after arriving in Seoul, you had to admit that you were still unable to make your way around, often having to rely on maps and double checking your phone just to make sure you wouldn’t get lost somewhere, and you still weren’t able to adapt to the different environment.

Blame it on your new job.

After your boss had you relocated, there was so much on your plate that you could barely catch a break and enjoy your new life. The farthest you could be confident in was the little shops and café that was just a few blocks away from your apartment, plus the cute book shop in the next building. The woman, Seungwan, seemed like an absolutely kind person when she realized you were new in the neighborhood, whipping you up a batch of muffins on your second day there. She also understood your slight struggle with the language after she explained to you that she was originally from Canada.

So far, you’ve only really gotten to befriend her and a few other people, mainly from work -

“Hey, Y/n, good morning!” A dark haired female greeted you when you passed by the park like usual. “Hey, Minji, good morning. Busy day ahead?” You ask when you notice the various paper bags in her arms.

Kim Minji was someone you met by chance. While you tried to familiarize the neighborhood, you ended up walking a little too far away than you should have and it didn’t help that it was about to rain. So when you reached the park, you were almost ready to give up until the angel that stood before you showed up with a worried look across her face and then she’s offering to help you get back home after she realized your situation.

The day after that, on your way to work, you were able to recognize the path better, since you could actually see your surroundings, and end up bumping into the latter once more, giving you the chance to properly thank her.

After that, you’ve both just been able to talk with one another and you were able to consider her as the closest friend you had there, aside from Seungwan.

“Sort of. I have some people coming over, so I have to fix up the place and make sure to prepare everything.” She says with the same cute grin she always had. “Oh! What time are they coming? Do you need some help?” You ask, hoping to give the woman a lending hand, but she smiles in an assuring manner before shaking her head. “No, it’s quite alright. They’ll be arriving in the afternoon, so I doubt you’ll be able to come by since you have work.”

She tries to check on her watch despite everything she’s carrying before she was looking back at you. “And you should be hurrying, too! You can’t be late.” She shoos you away playfully and you chuckle while lifting your hands in defense. “I know, I know. I’ll see you later then. Text me though!”

“I will, now go!”

You show her a little salute before running off to the direction of your work place, leaving the woman to watch after you with a small smile on her face. Only when you were completely out of sight did she decide to walk back to her home and prepare for her friends' arrival.

.. 

"Hey, Y/n! Heading home?" Kahei, one of your colleagues, asked when she got up from her desk and began packing her things. She was one of the few foreigners that worked at the company and it helped that she knew how to speak English. You were grateful that she was kind enough to show you around and explain everything you failed to comprehend when you started.

You offer a smile before shaking your head and sighing. "No, I'm still trying to finish up this report. You know how our boss is." You joked before the girl giggled and patted your arm when she passed by you. "You worry too much. He has a lot of confidence in you, having you move here and all."

"It wouldn't be a surprise if you managed to become a senior officer in your first year. But don't tell anyone I said." You laughed at the playful banter between the two of you and nodded your head while waving goodbye. "See you tomorrow. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight! Don't stay so late. You know how dangerous it can be at night." She reminds you and you nod before she finally exits the room, leaving you alone to finish the task you had at hand.

While Kahei did tell you not to stay up late, you failed to notice the time until security had to come up and tell you that you should leave the building. You apologized before quickly gathering your things and heading home for the night. But a quick glance at your phone notified you that it was already nearing one in the morning.

So you picked up the pace and did your best to get home faster, avoiding any shady looking places just in case, because, like Kahei told you, it wasn’t exactly safe to be roaming around at night and it didn’t help that you were alone.

The bus was nearly empty, save for a few people who seemed to have just gotten off work like yourself. There was also a couple, not too far away, talking between themselves and then an elderly man closer to the driver’s seat whilst you occupied the middle row like usual.

When you get to your stop, you hold your bag loosely in your hand, eyes half lidded and pleading to shut after such a busy day, but you still needed to get home before you could let your guard down and finally relax. It wasn’t too far away now, but still. Anything could still happen in the few blocks you had to pass.

Maybe halfway to your apartment, you could feel your phone buzzing in your pocket and you’re confused.

Who would be calling you at such an hour?

Upon checking the caller ID, you’re surprised to see Minji’s name flashing across the screen. Before you could even answer her call, it ends and you think that maybe she’s called you by accident. But you’re proven wrong when she starts calling you again.

“Hello?”

“Y/n! Thank god, you’re okay.” Her words had caused you to slowly come to a halt, your brows pinching in confusion as you addressed the woman. “Yeah, I just left work a while ago. What’s wrong?” You inquire and she lets out a huff. “Well, it is kinda worrying when your friend hasn’t replied in, at least, five hours.” She shot back and you started walking again with a sigh.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve just been so absorbed with work that I lost track of time.” You tell her, your apartment finally coming into view. “But why are you still awake? It’s one in the morning.” You ask her. “I was worried when you didn’t text back earlier. You usually do so when you leave work.”

Suddenly you felt bad for being so reckless. You found out Minji could be quite the worry wart on the first month of being here. She's always telling you to take care, often scolding you for forgetting an umbrella or jacket on certain occasions, and just being a mother hen in general. It was endearing, especially for someone who's only known you for a couple of weeks.

"I'm so sorry. I swear, I'll make it up to you. But right now, you should get some sleep. It's late and I'm almost home, anyway." You assure the older woman. "I'd rather stay on the line until I'm sure you are home." She retorts and you let out a sigh at her stubbornness. "I swear that I'm going to be okay. I'll text you as soon as I get home, it's not even that far away anymore."

"You're still outside, and I'd rather not risk it." Knowing that there was no use arguing, you eventually gave up and allowed the other woman to stay on the line until you safely reached your apartment.

"How has your day been?" You would suddenly ask her, seeing it was a bit awkward to keep your phone to your ear without actually saying anything. "You had some friends over, yeah? How did it go?" You add and there's a slight hum from her side before she's responding.

The sound of her voice didn’t seem all too enthusiastic, or maybe it was because it was early in the morning and she was tired out. “It was alright, my friends are all filled with so much energy, though two of them are more tame.” She mumbles softly while you finally reach the front of your apartment complex. “But I think you would be able to get along with them if you ever meet them. They’ll love you for sure.” She says with a light laugh that sounds almost a bit forced, like there were more emotions locked away in her heart that she’s afraid of letting you find out.

“Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine.” You chuckle while stepping inside the building and using your free hand to reach inside your pocket for your keys. “But, hey, I’m already at the complex, so you ca-”

Surprised, you didn’t realize someone was there until your shoulder collided with theirs and you had to stop what you were doing to face them and immediately apologize. “I’m so sorry for that, I didn’t notice you.” You tell them and the woman just stares blankly at you.

Getting a proper look, she had brown hair with the tips painted pink, dark brown orbs almost boring a hole in your forehead, and if looks could kill, you would probably be buried six feet under by now. The woman was most likely thin, hidden under the thick jacket that was wrapped around her. She was a few inches taller than you, probably the same height as Minji, you noted and you knew you would never bump into her like this again with the way she was staring at you.

“Be careful next time.” Was all she said before continuing her way out of the building and you blink after her before remembering that you were still on the phone with Minji.

“Y/n? Are you there?” You hear the woman’s worried voice. “Yeah, I’m here, sorry. I just bumped into someone.” You explain and she goes quiet before asking, “Isn’t it a bit late for someone in your complex to be up?”

Glancing over your shoulder and to the entrance, you let out a soft sigh before making your way up to your apartment. “I guess? Though she seems new, or I just haven’t noticed her until now.” You explain while rubbing the back of your head and then grabbing your keys from your pocket. “Really? What does she look like?”

“Um, judging by how I had bumped into her, kind of like an angry puppy.” You mutter while unlocking your door and Minji breathes out, almost like a huff of air coming from her lips as she turns in her bed while listening to you shutting your door. “Well, annoyed neighbor aside, it sounds like you’re already home.” She guesses while you take off your shoes. “Yeah, you don’t have to worry about me being out and finally get some sleep.”

With the assurance that you were safe and sound, Minji finally relented as she shut her eyes. “Yeah, I think I’ll do that. But don’t forget, you owe me for worrying me like that.” She hears your light laughter through the other line and a smile blooms on her face. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your own lips before bidding her goodbye. “Goodnight. I’ll see you later.”

When the call finally ends, Minji lets her phone drop to her side as her eyes open again, her smile fading into a small frown as she recalls what you said a while ago, the worry building in her chest as she stared up at the ceiling.

“What are you doing, Yoohyeon?”

Meanwhile, after you had finally gotten comfortable and settled in your bed, it only took a matter of seconds for you to fall asleep, the exhaustion of the day helping you fall unconscious and easing you into dreamland.

However, as your eyes opened, you’re greeted by a dimly lit room. With a chandelier hanging above your head, you could see what little furniture was there along with a few pictures and books scattered about. There were papers strewn about, what appeared to be, a circle of candles around you.

Come to think of it, you were standing directly at the center of the whole thing, yet everything was empty and without a source of life, except you.

Peering around curiously, you take a cautious step outside the circle, being careful not to touch the candles. “What the…” Looking at the large windows to your left, you blinked before looking down at yourself to confirm that you weren’t wearing the shorts or plain shirt you had picked before going to sleep, but rather a white blouse and black dress pants.

You try tapping your own cheek to see if you could wake yourself up, but when you look around, nothing changes. The room is as it is and your clothes don’t change. While you know you’re dreaming, everything feels oddly realistic when you reach one of the desks, letting your fingers brush over one of the few books that was placed on top of it.

Despite being alone, you could not shake off the feeling of someone watching you. There’s a heavy weight that settles on your shoulders, and when you breathe out, your breath is visible as though the room’s temperature had dropped.

There’s a quiet creak in the direction of the archway that probably leads further into the house, and you spin around quickly, catching a glimpse of a shadow before it’s disappeared completely from your sight.

You hold your breath, not daring to call out in the event that someone or something dangerous might be present. With your heart beating faster, you catch another bit of movement, this time by the window. And when you look over, all you see is your own reflection.

Or so you thought.

Your eyes in the window looked a bit different - darker. And when you move back, your reflection’s movement is delayed, forcing you to step away and retreat.

Fear was slowly creeping up your chest and the weight from earlier had yet to go away. While you did your best to keep your breathing steady, the room started to spin around you with your head suddenly throbbing.

And then the whispers began.

You’re not sure where they’re coming from nor do you understand a single word they’re saying. All you knew was that they were growing louder and louder, making you even dizzier. When you move back towards the candles, one light flickers before you feel something grab at your leg, causing you to stumble.

But before your body could collide with the ground, someone had grabbed you by the back of your shirt and you were being shoved back to the circle.

Looking up to who had pushed you, you could barely see their face with how hazy things were getting. The only thing you could tell was that the person was a woman, dressed in a suit with her hair seemingly short, though only at the front because when she gave you another push to have you fully in the circle again, you caught sight of the rest of her hair tied in a low ponytail.

She doesn’t give you a chance to speak nor does she say her name or where you are. She merely stares at you for a few seconds before allowing you to faintly hear her voice. “You shouldn’t be here… at least not yet.”

[spaceskam]

ao3

“You’re covered in dirt.”

“I'm sorry.”

“No, I'm kidding,” TK said fondly, wiping off a bit of the grime on Carlos’ cheek, “It's just usually me who gets covered in dirt."

There were moments when things were phenomenal and there were moments when they weren’t. Carlos was slowly learning how to flow with TK through those phases just as TK was learning to flow with him through his. Their jobs were mentally taxing and that didn’t even take into consideration their lives outside of work. The only way to get through it all was to do what they could.

And this week wasn’t Carlos' best.

“Let’s go take a shower, clean you up,” TK suggested, running a hand through his hair. It was sweaty and gross, but he was clearly tired and TK was willing to lend a hand.

“Yeah, okay,” Carlos agreed. TK slid his hand from his face and down his arm, grasping his hand gently to tug him to the bathroom.

TK kept stealing glances at him as he turned on the shower and let it heat up. Carlos dropped onto the toilet with a thud, his head bowed as he took deep breaths. He’d never actually seen him like this. He didn’t know if he should be scared or if he should feel special that he felt comfortable enough to be so vulnerable in front of him. He chose the second one.

He crouched down in front of him to take off his shoes and socks, feeling a little bit giddy about doing this for someone else. Once those were off, he stood and let Carlos rest his head against his stomach, running his fingers through his hair. Carlos took slow, deep breaths and held onto his hips to keep him close.

“Do you need anything else?” TK asked, “Like, wine or something?”

Carlos shook his head, “I just need to take a shower and go to sleep.”

“Okay,” TK said, but that didn’t seem like enough. He thought back to his own bad days and how that was never enough. He needed to do something to distract himself from whatever was going on in his head. “Hey, I’m off tomorrow. Maybe you can call in sick tomorrow and I’ll just take care of you all day.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“C’mon, when’s the last time you took a day off just because?” TK wondered, “You deserve it.”

Carlos lifted his head and looked up at him, eyebrows knitted together a little. It was the first time someone who actually knew him seemed to be seeking guidance from him. It gave him really inappropriately timed butterflies.

“Look, you haven’t taken a day off since Michelle moved away. That’s a big thing, no longer having your best friend around in person. And today was a bad day. They’ll understand. Call in and I’ll spend all day pampering you,” TK suggested. He kind of liked the idea of taking care of someone. He liked it even better that it was Carlos.

“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly. TK smiled and dropped a kiss on the top of his head.

“Good.”

TK got to work at unbuttoning his shirt just enough to pull it over his head and then pulled his undershirt to follow it. Then he grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. Carlos leaned against him heavily, his head tucked into the crook of his neck as TK unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor.

Maybe it was a little weird that TK wouldn’t mind doing this more. He’d always wanted someone to love and give all his attention to, but the way his life had taken him hadn’t really allowed him to do that. That was stuck to hidden little fantasies that he never really thought possible with the life he led. Being a firefighter didn’t exactly lend itself to being a house-husband. But maybe he could do things like this every once in awhile. Hell, maybe he could make him breakfast in bed.

TK stripped as fast as he could so he didn’t have to be separated from Carlos that long and it earned him the fondest little smile which made everything worth it. He grabbed his hand and tugged him into the shower with him. The minute the water got to him, the dirt on his skin started to visibly slide off.

“Do you wanna talk about what happened?” TK asked. He didn’t really understand what could’ve happened that could’ve gotten him like that. He hadn’t even heard of anything really bad happening.

“I got called to an abandoned building and got half the dirt there after walking into the basement and the rest of it from breaking up a fight in baseball field,” he said, sighing as he shook his head, “Not even a big deal, it was just a long day of people being ridiculous.”

“I understand,” TK said. And he did. He didn’t ask for more.

TK took his time as he washed Carlos’ hair as thoroughly as he could, massaging his scalp and getting every inch. He rinsed that out and followed it with his fancy conditioner that would make his dad proud. Then he grabbed a wash cloth, wiping down every inch of his skin and covering him in soap so he’d feel clean. When he rinsed him off, he left kisses for extra measure. Carlos sighed a content little sigh which made it all worth it.

He quickly bathed himself as thoroughly as he could without all the special attention before getting back to Carlos, rinsing the conditioner out of his hair. Carlos tilted his head back to lay against his shoulder and TK reached around to press a kiss to the hollow of his throat.

“You’re too good to me,” Carlos whispered. TK hummed and shook his head.

“You deserve it.”

They stayed under the hot water for a few more minutes, letting it eat at the tension in their bodies from the day. Eventually, though, they had to get out and TK shut off the water. 

He wrapped Carlos up in a towel and pressed a kiss to his nose, smiling when Carlos huffed a laugh. He dried them both slowly, kissing him wherever seemed like it needed to be kissed. Truly, he looked like he needed to be kissed until he couldn’t think about anything else.

After they were for the most part dry, they brushed their teeth and headed into his bedroom. Carlos, despite his tired eyes, already looked better than he did when he walked inside. TK grabbed something for them to sleep in while Carlos took the time to call work and say he couldn’t come in tomorrow.

By the time they made it into bed, TK had turned out the lights and they were dressed in the bare minimum. He laid on his back and pulled Carlos onto him, cradling his head that stayed firmly in the crook of his neck.

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep in tomorrow?” he asked quietly. Carlos hummed something that was probably a no, but I’ll stay in bed as long as you want which was a fair deal. “Okay, get some sleep.”

Carlos nuzzled a little closer and relaxed with a slow exhale. It was the cutest thing. TK wondered for a moment if this is what it really felt like to be stupidly in love.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

[vicegrips-fr]

Into the Black

Azizi divulges his upbringing and the horrors that came with it.

-------------------- I’ve debated sharing this on here because to be completely honest it’s very personal and not for everyone. I’ve decided to open up and share it anyway with the appropriate warnings. It’s no secret that I vent through my own ocs to explore the intense abuse I survived and this is one of those lore posts that delves into that. Hopefully some of you will take the time to read it and if not I completely understand. It’s a long one and difficult to read in many ways I’m sure.

Gustav belongs to my boyfriend @wyvernrising!

Warnings: language, themes of parental abuse, drug/alcohol abuse mentions, and unpleasantness abound.

Pings: @fusefr @kattafr @stimmy-dragons -------------------

They’re together for the night. Himself, Gogo, and the Sub Rosa sent to protect them which includes his boyfriend Gustav. There’s an injury to his hand which isn’t self-inflicted but the product of his past come back to bite him in the ass today. Since then they’ve been sharing their stories to pass the time and ease the tension, getting to know each other better and well, now it’s his turn.

“You don’t have to share,” Gogo peeps up sympathetically, scooting closer so that their thighs are pressed together.

He already knows the truth, knows how hard this will be for Azizi to talk about.

Azizi waves a dismissive hand in the air, happily allowing Gus to take hold of the injured one and press a kiss to the knuckles. Some small part of him does care what they’ll think but it’s drowned out by the stubborn I don’t give a shit what you think of me attitude he’s spent a lot of time cultivating for himself. “We’ll see about that,” he says, pouring himself a glass of wine.

He pauses, bottle in hand as his eyes land on Gustav’s glass. There’s still wine inside but he fills it back up to the top for him anyway. Whether he chooses to drink it or not is irrelevant. Maybe he doesn’t want him to; more wine for him.

Their previous compliments earlier in the night did not fall on deaf ears and bring a smile to his face when he remembers them. “Ha! I am a pleasure to be around, aren’t I?” he chuckles, licking his teeth, “If I were a bore then I wouldn’t be netting as much dick as I am on the daily.”

It’s crude but true. He’s popular for a reason and part of it is his bombastic, nasty personality. Truth is sunshine and rainbows have no place in a brothel, no matter how hard Gogo tries to change that fact.

“But you’re right about what you all said,” he sighs, “It’s an ugly story, just like the rest of you have.”

For a solid few seconds he lapses into silence, picking through the pieces of his life inside his head like dusting off an old photo album. None of the pictures inside are things he wants to see, they’re kept in a box for a reason, after all.

“Where to begin?” he muses to himself, swirling the wine in his glass around, transfixed by the dark red liquid sloshing around the sides.

“Like Gustav and Gogo I was born in Neo Necropolis. The slummy part, obviously. My mother’s name was Tiwa but she went by Candy. If that doesn’t tip you off she was a stripper. A popular one, I was told.”

He stops to sip his drink, the mere mention of his mother’s name enough to elicit that response. Jesus. How long has it been since he said her name out loud?

“My father’s name was Ayoola but everyone called him Ayo,” Azizi continues, the wine burning all the way down his throat, “And his biggest claim to fame was his appetite for men and women. He frequented just about every brothel and strip club in a fifteen mile radius.” Azizi looks up, eyes passing over everyone’s faces in favor of focusing on anything but.

“You can all put two and two together and figure out how my parents met,” he laughs without joy, “They were never married, of course, but they lived together and it wasn’t long before I was born. Not like they were kind of people to use protection, but I sort of wish they had.”

It’s a terribly dark thing to say and painfully true. Plenty of people in a bad situation have the same thought- I wish I was never born!- and he can’t count how many times he cursed the world for being forced into it. “They fought all the time,” he says, recalling the first time he was old enough to understand the words they were yelling.

------------------  

”Get off of your ass and do something for once!” Tiwa screams at the top of her lungs, “I work my ass off on the pole every night and you can’t even get off the couch to get Zizi his breakfast? Pathetic!” It's early. Early enough that the sun is only just coming up, bright light streaming in through the dingy window in his bedroom despite the tall buildings that surround their home. It’s not the first time he’s been woken up this early from his parents fighting. His mama is gone all night, returning every morning and sleeping most of the day away, but not before their daily fight. Tail between his legs Azizi tiptoes quietly to the end of the short hallway, his little hands gripping the corner of the wall as he peeks out from behind it to see what’s going on. ”Oh, I’m pathetic?” Ayoola shouts back, “That’s rich coming from a pole crawler who calls herself Candy! The pipsqueak isn’t even up yet so fuck off to bed already and quit your yapping.” Azizi can’t see them from where he’s standing so he lets go of the wall and steps into the living room, ducking back into the hallway as quietly as possible when he catches a glimpse of his father laid out on the sofa, beer bottle in hand. ”No Ayo YOU fuck off,” Tiwa says loudly from the kitchen, bone tired and her tail lashing behind her in anger. “I’m not dealing with this mess when I’ve been up all fucking night, do you hear me? I’m not your mother, I’m your girlfriend and I need your help. We’re barely getting by, for fuck sake. Just… try to be responsible for once in your miserable life. Please.” ”Jesus fucking christ Candy, get a grip,” Ayoola snorts nonchalantly, rolling over so that his face is pressed into the cushions of the couch, “I’ll do the dishes and get the brat his breakfast, alright? Will that shut you up?” Tears in his eyes, Azizi shuffles off back to his bedroom and curls up on the small mattress laid on the floor of his tiny bedroom, pulling the blanket over his head. The shouting continues but it’s muffled through his hands over his ears and, after a little while, he falls back asleep.

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

“It was really annoying,” he scoffs, “How they’d fight over just about everything. It was like they couldn’t help themselves. No matter how small the affront they would manage to find a way to turn it into something more.”

He’s getting off track. Blinking away the memory like it’s nothing, Azizi drinks deeply from his glass and marches forward. “Anyway,” he mutters, taking another small sip, “I was, hm, about eight or nine years old when my mother up and left. I can’t blame her, really. My father was a bum and an addict who brought other men and women home when she wasn’t around. More than once she walked in on him cheating on her and I guess that plus his allergy to contributing anything to the ‘family’ was enough to put the final nail in the coffin. We all have our breaking point.”

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

”Where’s mama?” Azizi asks, tugging lightly on his father’s pant leg. It’s midday and she hasn’t come home yet. Ayoola is passed out on the couch, his dirty hair sticking up in different directions, spit and booze drying in a crust at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t respond right away. It takes Azizi asking the same question a few times before he’s finally roused awake. ”Huh?” he mumbles, cracking an eye open, “Oh. That.” Ayoola doesn’t seem particularly worried about Tiwa’s absence, just slightly annoyed to have been woken up. ”She left,” he sneers, grunting with effort as he pushes himself up and grabs a crumpled piece of paper that had been wadded up underneath him. “Don’t worry, she’ll come crawling back eventually. Until then how about you go play or something. Daddy is trying to sleep off a cold.”

It would only be a couple more years before Azizi would realize that these frequent ‘colds’ were actually hangovers of varying degrees. A week turns into a month, a few months turn into a year and Tiwa still hasn’t come back. Around the six month mark was when Azizi realized he would never see his mother again. In another three months he would grow angry and resentful, pounding his little fists into the floor because she left him behind. She left him alone with HIM. ”That selfish bitch!” Ayo yells, putting another hole in the wall with his fist, blood seeping from between his fingers, “Leaving me to take care of you by my fucking self! How the hell am I supposed to do that, huh?! Tell me how! Where’s the money going to come from?! I’m sinking here! Do you know how many people I owe money to?” Azizi sobs into his hands, tiny body curled up into a ball on the sofa as his father paces back and forth like a caged animal, ranting like a lunatic at the top of his lungs. ”I… I don’t know!” Azizi cries, far too young to understand all of the things his father is saying, “I’m sorry dad! I’m sorry!” -------------------

“After Candy split the house chores fell to me,” Azizi murmurs darkly, setting his drink down to reach for another cigarette instead, “The cooking, cleaning… Him. Ayoola was a full time job. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I had to clean him up after a blackout. Put him on his side and make sure he wouldn’t throw up and drown in his own vomit.”

Azizi pauses, takes a drag from his cigarette and sighs.

“He drank and shot up so much that the floor was littered all over with the aftermath,” Azizi chuckles bitterly, “I’d have to wade through the filth being careful not to stab myself with a used needle, turn him over and check his pulse. Clean the puke off of him with a rag and then pick it all up.”

Gogo sniffles, rubbing his eyes dry on the back of his hand. It’s at this point that he wants to interrupt, to tell Azizi that he doesn’t have to go on if he doesn’t want to. But as if reading his mind, Azizi looks over at him and smiles sadly. 

“It’s okay, Gogo,” he says as soothingly as he can manage, “I’m fine.”

Another pause as he tries to collect his thoughts, memories he wishes didn’t belong to him. “As I got older we started to fight more and more,” Azizi murmurs, “At that point I really had replaced my mother in almost every way.”

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

”Zi! That you?”

”Yeah, it’s me dad,” Azizi replies a little flippantly, “Who the fuck else would it be? One of your booty calls?”

Ayoola snorts with laughter, looking up at him as he walks into the room with bloodshot eyes. ”Have I ever told you that you look like your mother?”

Azizi rolls his eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he leans in the doorway.

”Yeah,” he answers flatly, “Like, fifty times this week.” Ayoola nods sadly, head rolling to the side as he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep again. Frowning, Azizi goes to his room.

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

I won’t cry, Azizi thinks, he doesn’t deserve my tears. “Eventually I ran away,” he informs them, unable to bring himself to give them the gorier details of his life, “And I went out with a bang.” Chuckling softly at his own wording, Azizi brings the glass to his lips again. “That makes it sound like I shot him dead,” he hums, “Sadly, I didn’t. We got into a fight, another bad one where he didn’t just use his words to berate me but his fists. I shoved him backwards, he shoved me harder, I slapped him, and he told me to get the fuck out of his house- I happily obliged.”

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

”You!” Ayoola screams, following Azizi around the house as he does his best to get away from him, “Where do you think you’re going?! I’m talking to you! Where the fuck were you?! You knew you had a client coming over! You knew and you went out anyway- hey!” His hand lashes out violently, grabbing Azizi by the arm and yanking him back. ”I’m not playing with you Zi!” Ayoola says, spittle flying and his teeth grinding together as he gets up in Azizi’s face, “You’re in big fucking trouble. If you’re going to live under this roof-” ”I don’t want to live under this roof!” Azizi screams back, slapping Ayoola in the face in an attempt to get him to let go, “I want to be as far away from you as humanly possible! You’re a fucking monster!” Ayoola doesn’t hesitate to backhand him, the force of it throwing Azizi to the floor where he sits shocked and rubbing tenderly at his freshly bruised cheek. ”Then get the fuck out!” he shouts, jabbing a finger in Azizi’s face as he looms over him, “Leave! Just like your mother did! I’ve taken care of us for how long and you’re acting out like this because I ask you to do your part?! All you have to do is put out! Easiest fucking job on the planet!” Azizi stares at him, dead behind the eyes as he’s yanked back up onto his feet and shoved hard against the kitchen wall, a hand around his throat. ”You hearin’ me? Answer me-” Azizi screams, shoving his father back so hard that he trips over his own feet and falls backwards. ”Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” he wails, shoving past Ayoola and out the front door. Ayoola gives chase, pausing in the open doorway to yell after him. ”Then go! Die on the street for all I care!”

He does not follow.

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

“To make an already long story short,” he says, glancing over at Gustav and then quickly averting his eyes, “I spent a long time, years, on the street just like Gogo. I did what I knew how to do best. Eventually I ran into Chaka.”

At the mere mention of his name his blood runs cold, the events of his sad life replaying all over again. He handles it though, shoving it deep deep down inside himself where it belongs. “He took me in off the streets you know. Well, for the most part anyway,” he admits, “There were plenty of times he’d leave me on a corner. To teach me a lesson, he’d say. I mean, I do have a reckless mouth so is that any surprise to you guys?” He laughs humorlessly, eyes finding Gogo’s. “But I met Gogo because of that,” he adds very fondly, “So hey. Silver-linings.” Sighing deeply, Azizi downs the rest of his drink in one go.

“I’ll save the stuff with Chaka for another time,” he murmurs, “If I go into that right now we’ll be here all night. Needless to say I didn’t go down the best path after leaving that hellhole, but if I’m being honest I don’t regret it. Dealing with Chaka’s bullshit was a hell of a lot better than dealing with my old man’s.” Despite his best efforts there’s a wet shine to his eyes now, but the tears don’t fall. Not even when the memories are threatening to choke the air out of his lungs. “So, that’s part one of my story,” he says faux cheerfully, “Now you know I come from trash. Do with it what you will.”

End.