#repair crack in sidewalk

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[wraithlafitte]

even it up

pairing: dean winchester x f!reader

CONTENT: violence (hunting), graphic descriptions of injuries and repairing them, SMUT, unprotected piv, dean might have a pain kink (or a competency kink), praise (m!receiving), blowjob, riding, (reckless) choking, edging (m!receiving), begging, biting, overstimulation

word count: 4.7k

a/n: part 2 to bitchin'. sorry it took so long! i got busy with schoolwork, but the semester's almost up so we'll be back to our regularly scheduled programming soon. thanks for your patience!

Silence filled the rental car as you and Dean drove to the location you'd tracked the missing vampires to. You had woken up tangled together, naked, dried bodily fluids a stark reminder of how far you'd fallen. You hadn't said a word to him all morning, and even Dean was devoid of his usual quips. At least you seemed to agree: last night was a mistake, and shouldn't happen again.

You parked the car in an unmarked, cracked parking lot a few blocks away from the abandoned house. Dean was out the door before you pulled the key from the ignition, rushing to the trunk to grab his weapons. You sighed and went after him, slamming the door behind you.

You stopped to the side of the trunk. "Dean."

"What," came his gruff reply from under the trunk lid. The sparse weeds growing through the pavement were suddenly very interesting.

"We should talk-"

Dean slammed the lid of the trunk, causing you to jump, and tossed you a machete, which you caught easily despite being startled.

"Let's just get the job done," he said, his face hard and unyielding as he made eye contact with you.

You looked away quickly, avoiding his stony gaze. "Fine," you mumbled. Those weeds sure were growing. Kind of how Dean had started to grow on you... persistent, despite the unforgiving terrain.

Shaking your head, you fell into step behind Dean as he started walking down the uneven sidewalk.

Your hands were deft as you picked the lock of the back door to the old, peeling green house. All the windows were boarded up, so you had no idea what was waiting for you directly behind this door, but if there was one thing you could count on, it's that if something did charge you, Dean would chop its head off. Not necessarily because he wanted to save you, but because he liked killing monsters. And you had a feeling that he had some anger he might want to take out on something deserving.

The lock finally clicked and you pushed the door open cautiously. It opened into a dirty mudroom, scattered with shoes and coats of all sizes and styles. Your stomach turned as you realized they must have belonged to victims.

Dean noticed it too. "Let's go," he said grimly and pushed past you into the building, machete held high.

You picked up your own machete from the ground where you had set it to pick the lock and followed Dean. He was quick, peeking past corners before whipping around and advancing down the hallways, pressed flat against the wall. You were less... dramatic about your caution, choosing to let him clear the way.

Dean stopped suddenly and threw an arm back, stopping you in place. For a second, you were distracted by the way his hand pressed back against you, fingers almost curling around your shirt, touching but not quite. A breeze through a broken window sent a wave of his Old Spice scent in your direction that almost overtook you. Then you came to your senses and slapped his hand away.

You peered past him to see what it was. You had come across a bedroom, in which three vampires were snoring away unwittingly. You recognized them from the warehouse.

Dean looked back at you and nodded, creeping into the room. You each went to a side of the bed and made eye contact over the sleeping monsters in front of you.

One, Dean mouthed, raising his blade.

Two, and you followed suit.

Three, and both of you swung. The blood of two vampires splattered the white sheets, and the third leapt up immediately, fangs descending. She stood on the bed, ready to pounce on Dean, when you pulled her legs out from under her. The vamp fell to the mattress, where you unceremoniously chopped off its head.

"Nice move," Dean muttered, wiping his blade and already walking towards the door. "Let's clear the rest of the house."

You checked the remaining rooms on the ground floor, while Dean hurried upstairs. You found nothing in the dilapidated rooms except some mice and rotting wood floors.

A loud pounding and scuffling sounded on the ceiling above you, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of metal hitting the floor. You turned and ran up the stairs two at a time.

Dean was locked in hand-to-hand combat with a vamp on the landing, his machete lying some distance away. Blood trickled down his temple. The ornate bronze candlestick the vampire wielded had a matching red stain.

The vampire hooked his beefy arm around Dean's neck and slammed him face first into the wall, shattering the glass on a picture frame that hung there. You seized the opportunity of having his back to you and rushed up behind him, hacking at his neck. Only his neck was so thick and muscular that your blade barely went through a third of it.

The vamp dropped Dean on the ground and slowly turned on you, your machete still stuck in its neck. Your eyes darted to where Dean's machete had fallen, and you scrambled backwards to pick it up, almost tripping on a rug in the process, but successfully retrieving it anyway. You brandished in front of you as you got backed into a corner, your last line of defense.

It had the audacity to laugh at you. "You think that's gonna work?" he taunted, bearing down on you and shadowing you from the meager sunlight coming through a window in an adjacent room.

In your periphery, you saw Dean rising from the ground, eyes fixed on the weapon stuck in the vampire's neck. You suppressed the urge to glance at him fully as he crept up behind the monster. He took hold of the machete handle and yanked.

It was no good. The vamp whirled on him, socking him in the jaw. You saw your chance. Dean was down for the count and the vampire had its back turned again. You ran up and swung with all your might in the opposite direction. The vamp's head rolled.

Dean looked up at you from the ground where he had fallen, panting hard. “You’re welcome,” he breathed heavily.

“For what? I saved your ass,” you reminded him, holding out a hand to help him up.

“If I hadn’t distracted it, you wouldn’t have been able to get it,” he said while standing, obviously trying to repair his ego.

You rolled your eyes and dropped his hand roughly. “Oh please.” You started down the stairs to head back to the car.

“At least we got them all now,” Dean commented, stomping down the stairs behind you.

You ignored him all the way back to the car and all the way back to the hotel as he continued to try to convince you that you hadn’t done all the work.

The sun was setting by the time you got back to the hotel, all shades of red and orange that reminded you of the blood you had spilled today. It reflected off the Impala, parked in front of the side door of the hotel. And it bathed Dean in a warm golden light that bounced off his freckled skin and made him look like he was glowing.

Ew, what am I thinking, you scolded yourself. He's just sweaty. He's a gross, sweaty man who you hate and never want to be intimate with again. He doesn't look sexy at all right now.

You were brought back to earth as Dean winced heavily while hauling his bag out of your trunk to transfer it to his car. His hand went to his ribs, tenderly feeling around for cracks.

"You should come inside so I can check you out," you said without thinking.

Dean looked at you incredulously. "Yeah, I bet you'd love to check me out, but I gotta go."

You rolled your eyes, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "Not what I meant. You're obviously hurt, let me take a look. I can patch you up better than you can yourself."

He threw his bag into the trunk of the Impala and slammed it shut. "Fine. If you'll let me leave after."

You prepared your first aid kit while Dean stripped off his top layers. You could have just gotten what you needed as you went, but you were preparing yourself for seeing him shirtless again... in the same environment that you'd fucked in last night.

You turned around, heart rate picking up. You were just making yourself nervous more than anything. You'd seen him shirtless thousands of times before. It's fine, it's normal.

And there he was.

Half-naked.

Sweaty.

Groaning.

Dean sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed, trying to look down his side, where deep red bruises were already formed. They were accompanied by a gash on his chest, presumably where the vampire's claws had cut into his skin as it tossed him around.

You kneeled in front of him and began examining his ribs, making sure to be gentle as you ran your fingers over each bone. Goosebumps rose on his flesh in the path of your hands. "Well, good news, nothing's broken."

Dean gave a pained sort of grimace-smile. "Great. So I can leave." He made to get up off the bed, but you held down his thighs.

"Not so fast," you said. "Let me fix up that cut."

"It's fine, really, I can do it myself," he protested. He met your determined gaze and slumped back.

"Fine. Make it quick."

You poured some antiseptic on a gauze pad. "This is gonna sting."

"I know, sweetheart, this ain't my first rodeo," Dean griped.

You gave him an expressionless look like I-am-so-done-with-you and pressed the soaked gauze to the cut. Dean hissed through his teeth, fingers tightening into the blanket beneath him. You wiped away the blood and the grime, revealing how deep the cut was.

"I'm gonna have to close this up," you told him. "It's deeper than I thought." You begin rummaging through the first-aid kit for the suture needle you knew was around somewhere. A hunter's first-aid kit was a little more elaborate than most.

You carefully threaded the needle, tongue poking through your lips, then looked up at him. "Ready?"

Dean's expression hardened and he grabbed the t-shirt he had been wearing, wadded up one end, and shoved it in his mouth.

Your brow furrowed in concentration as you wove the needle through his delicate skin, meticulously joining the two sides. You worked as quickly and as steadily as you could, painstakingly making sure to sew him up in a way that wouldn't scar too much. Dean did his best to keep quiet, occasionally grunting in pain, his face scrunching up around the shirt in his mouth.

You reached the end of the cut and adeptly tied off the thread, snipping the loose end off. Dean spat the chunk of t-shirt out of his mouth and tossed it to the side.

You made eye contact for a moment as you covered the wound site with a bandage, then Dean shifted his eyes to the side. "Thanks," he said after a minute.

"You sure you want to go? Why don't you rest one more night before getting on the road?" you asked softly, placing your hand on his knee soothingly. His leg twitched under your hand.

"I should go...." Dean protested half-heartedly, not making any move to get up. Did he want to stay?

"Got somewhere to be, Winchester?" you teased. Testing your theory, you rubbed his thigh a couple times. His eyes fluttered half-closed and he looked at you darkly through his lashes.

"Don't," he murmured, uncharacteristically non-combative. His hand crept around your wrist, holding your hand on his leg.

You looked up at him from your place between his legs. "You say one thing, but do another," you said softly. "What do you want, Dean?"

Dean bit his lip and let go of your hand, clasping his together in his lap and dropping his gaze to them. You waited a beat, then grabbed his hands, pulling them to your chest.

"Look at me, Dean," you commanded. His eyes flew up in surprise. "Tell me what you want."

His expression changed from surprised to irritated to aroused. He grabbed you by the shoulders.

"You."

You grinned and stood up to clamber onto him, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss, Dean's hands ghosting across your back and legs, helping you into his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him as close as possible as you made out and rolled your hips down onto his hardening cock.

Dean groaned and broke away. "Let me fuck you," he rasped, pupils blown.

A lovely mischievous idea occurred to you. You pouted. "You'll hurt yourself. Let me take care of you." You slid off his lap onto the floor and turned away, pulling your own shirt over your head. "Get comfortable on the bed."

In the fake gold plated mirror on the wall, you saw Dean look you up and down hungrily. Then he quickly stripped the rest of his clothes off and sat against the headboard. You slowly lowered your jeans, then your panties, being as teasing as possible, knowing he was watching.

"Come here," he barked finally. You turned to face him, bra still covering your breasts.

"So demanding," you breathed, but went to him anyway. You sat down on his thighs and looped your arms around his neck again, pulling him in for a kiss, which he swerved in favor of mouthing kisses into your neck and jaw. You moaned a little as he paid attention to a sensitive vein. Your hips almost involuntarily rolled forward, meeting his lower stomach.

His hands, which had just been resting on your thighs, squeezed harshly into the supple flesh of your hips. You yelped as he dug his fingers into the bruises he had left the day before.

"You said you would take care of me," Dean said snarkily, staring pointedly at his cock between you. You smirked and wrapped your hand around its base, admiring the reddening tip. You slowly squeezed your hand up from the base to the tip, and were rewarded with a thick drop of precum leaking out and dripping down the side. Dean huffed, a dark flush spreading across his neck and chest.

You scooted down his legs until your face was level with his crotch. Making teasing eye contact with him, you slowly stuck out your tongue and licked his cock from his balls up, flicking off the tip. Dean growled, his skin and gaze fiery.

"Quit'cher teasing," he slurred, tilting his head back to knock against the headboard.

You found significant pleasure in weakening him, and although you'd have liked to keep teasing him, you wanted to make him come undone. So you took his cock into your mouth, sucking gently on the fat head, savoring the salty taste of him.

"Fuck," Dean whispered, head still back, eyes closed. You swirled your tongue around a few times, then started lowering your head, taking him further and further into your mouth. He reached for your head but you caught his hand and held it down to the bed.

You raised your head, letting his cock fall from your mouth, a string of drool still connecting the two. "Trust me," you said, raising your eyebrow.

"I don't trust you as far as I can throw you," he groaned.

"Don't make me tie you down," you warned. "I will."

"I'd like to see you try- ngh!" You squeezed the base of his cock tightly and watched as it turned red and Dean squirmed beneath you, mouth agape and panting. He truly was a beautiful, lewd sight.

"Mind your stitches," you reminded him gently. "Lie still." You loosened your hold on his cock and began sliding your hand along it languidly.

Dean visibly relaxed, eyes fluttering open. You lowered your mouth back onto his cock, taking him all the way to the back of your throat and swallowing around him. Your eyes watered and stung, but the groan he let out was worth it. You repeated the process a couple more times, then pulled off and looked up at him. He regarded you darkly and lustfully as you grabbed his hand and brought it to the side of your face, allowing him to lace his fingers through your hair and grab a handful.

A handhold.

You nodded slightly and dropped your jaw, mouth waiting above his heavy cock. Dean's mouth slowly grew into a grin.

"Want me to fuck your face, huh? Guess that's one way you can help me out." He shoved your head down onto him. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat. "Fucking slut, letting a guy fuck your mouth just 'cuz you feel sorry for him." He began bobbing your head up and down. His grip on your hair made your scalp tingle.

You made a little moan of protest. It turned into the most obscene gurgling, gagging sound as he continued to use you like a human fleshlight.

You gripped his wrist and tugged his hand out of your hair so you could pull off of his cock. You looked at him through narrowed eyes. "I will stop."

"Yeah, right," Dean scoffed, out of breath. "You practically threw yourself on me."

You smirked, moving up to straddle him, and pinned his hand to the headboard. "I think you'll find that, both times, it was the other way around."

Before Dean knew what was happening, you ambushed him with a handcuff snapping around his wrist, the other side looped haphazardly on the bedpost. It didn't matter that it wasn't secure. He didn't have enough leverage to lift it over the tall post and free himself.

While he snarled, distracted, you trapped his other wrist in the same way. You smiled down at him sweetly when his angry face turned to you.

"I did warn you," you said, grinding down on his lap. "But I guess I should've known better than to give you any control. It was always going to come to this, wasn't it?"

"You bitch," Dean said through gritted teeth, straining forward against his restraints.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his neck, his jaw, his earlobe. "Just say the word if it's too much."

You felt him relax underneath you, then he nipped at your ear. "How weak do you think I am? Do your worst," he sneered.

You rose above him, triumphant. "Oh, I will, baby." You ground your wet core against his cock, still slick with your spit. He ground his teeth more, trying not to react. You threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged gently.

And oh, how beautiful it was that he let his head loll back, giving himself into your control, eyes fluttering shut. Then he seemed to snap to his senses and he opened his eyes, muttering, "Just ride me already."

"Patience," you whispered, and began kissing him. You kissed down his neck, across his chest (avoiding the stitches), down his stomach through the soft hairs that led back down to his pretty cock, laying on his stomach and leaving droplets of precum like dew in the hairs.

You blew softly across his length as you considered the best way to make him unravel for you. He let out a low groan, quiet and strained. You smiled to yourself and lowered your mouth back onto his cock, running your tongue lightly along the thick vein that ran up its underside, tracing the life-force that pulsated beneath his skin. He huffed softly in quick succession.

"Breathe," you murmured against his dick, and licked the tip gently, slo-o-owly. Dean made a pretty noise that was halfway a grunt and halfway a breathy sigh, and your pussy fluttered between your legs.

You clambered back up his body, your knees framing his waist as you hovered over him. His eyes were completely clouded by lust, an eager expression taking over his face. You took hold of his cock and lined it up with your body. His breath hitched in anticipation.

You cocked your head, smiling. "What do you say?"

Dean scowled. "Fuck you, I'm not begging."

"Oh, but you already have, Dean." You stroke his cock gently where it waits between your legs. "What's one more word?"

His eyes threatened to close against his will. He gritted his teeth, opened his mouth, closed it, sighed, and spoke. "Please," he whispered.

"Good boy," you praised, sinking down onto his cock slowly. You moaned loudly as you felt him fill you up again. It almost felt better now that you were taking your time with him. Dean moaned softly, arms finally relaxing in his bonds.

Your head dipped down and you kissed him. His mouth was soft and pliant against yours, not fighting, not working to dominate, and you had the fleeting thought that you had tamed him. You didn't know how, but in this moment, he was completely submissive. And you liked it.

You raised yourself up and drew off his cock until just the head remained inside, then slid back down slowly, like you had at first. Dean leaned forward, held back somewhat by the cuffs, to suck and press kisses to your breasts. You ground down on him, pressing his cock as far in as it would go until it ached, and your chest vibrated with Dean's responding groan.

"Please move," he begged hoarsely, hips twitching underneath you.

"Since you asked nicely," you breathed. You began rolling your hips against his steadily, watching as his pleasure flickered through his rugged features. It was a stark contrast to last night, when he had been scowling and making quips the entire time as he fucked you into the mattress. This was almost... loving. Or perhaps you were simply providing him a service. You did agree to take care of him, and maybe that's what he needed.

You reached up and unclasped the handcuff on Dean's left hand, somehow trusting that he would not go anywhere. His eyes flew open and his hand was on you like it was a magnet and your hip was the opposite charge. His hand massaged into the flesh of your hip, making a dull ache arise from the bruises of the previous night.

You looked into his eyes as both your moans filled the air. They were wide and asking, and since his hand was gentle on your body, and he had been on such good behavior, you released his other hand as well.

It was like a switch flipped. His right hand darted to your waist and dug in, the hand on your hip tightening as well as he took control of your movement. You yelped and he began pushing you faster, your thighs screaming with effort as you tried to regain control.

"Dean," you gasped, clawing at his shoulders.

He grinned, slamming your hips down on him until you were forced to fall against his shoulder. "You were too slow," he gasped between heavy breaths, the wind rushing from his lungs each time your hips met his.

You managed to push yourself back up, bracing your forearm against his throat. His gasps turned ragged as you cut off his air. His thrusts slowed as you regained control of him.

"Be good," you said harshly, catching your breath and narrowing your gaze. "Only good boys get what they want." Dean scowled as he realized you were parroting his words from the night before.

"Fuck you," he spat hoarsely, voice barely audible from the pressure on his vocal cords. You cocked an eyebrow and leaned a little heavier on his throat. His cock twitched inside you.

Letting up on his throat just enough that he could breathe, you picked yourself up and began fucking yourself on his cock again, this time fully in control as his hands just clutched at your hips. You swear he went bug-eyed at the renewed friction combined with his light-headedness.

You felt pressure build in your core as you watched Dean's face, red and straining, mouth hanging open as he gasped in a desperate bid for a full breath. All that came from his mouth were raspy moans and heaves. He seemed determined not to beg still. You supposed he had been faking before. That wouldn't do.

"Tell me when you're close, baby," you purred in his ear as you began rubbing your clit, the sensation causing you to clench around him tightly. You readjusted the arm on his throat so he could speak.

"I'm close," you continued. "If I come on your cock, can you take it? Or will it be too much?" You pouted in mock pity. Dean was barely listening, eyes rolled back in his head, mouth moving in something that might have been words, if he wasn't so pussy-drunk and oxygen-deprived.

The look on his face finally pushed you over the edge, and you fell on his mouth hungrily as your pussy spasmed around him, eating up his desperate whines and moans as they fell from his lips.

You didn't stop your pace, overstimulating yourself and building another orgasm while Dean... finally broke.

"Please," he gasped hoarsely into your mouth, teeth clashing against yours as he jerked forward, drawn towards you, needing to be closer and closer and closer. "I'm so close."

You smirked down at him and slowed drastically. He was going to feel everything you were subjected to last night. He whined and buried his face in your chest, hips wiggling in an attempt to thrust into you again. "What do you say?"

"I just did," he growled, scraping his teeth over your skin.

"You didn't," you said cheerily. "You know what you need to tell me."

He let out a drawn-out groan followed by what could be considered somewhat of a sob. "Fuck."

"That's not it," you chastised.

Dean gritted his teeth and looked up at you, meeting your gaze. But he couldn't hold it. "I need to come," he whispered, eyes dropping. "Please make me come."

You resumed your last pace, touching yourself and clenching down on him as your body reacted to the feelings. Dean let out a broken moan as you leaned on his throat again. "Fuck- fuck-" he gasped against your skin, more his mouth just forming the words than speaking, hot and wet and open. His entire body tensed and he stopped breathing for just a moment-

And then he came inside you, shuddering and digging his nails into your hips so tightly you thought you might bleed. You didn't slow until you were following him, wringing every drop from his spent cock as he begged you to slow down in half-human sounds. You didn't slow until you were overstimulating yourself too, and he was straining against your arm, all but crying as his face contorted, all gritted teeth and tense muscles and red cheeks.

At last, you seated yourself fully on him and just stayed there, finally un-obstructing his airway. Dean's hands fell limply to your sides as his chest heaved, panting heavily and looking at you with a glazed expression as his cock jerked weakly inside you.

You made a quick scan of his injuries. Nothing had burst or ripped. He was catching his breath. Satisfied that he was physically okay, you smirked down at him.

"Now we're even," you told him slyly, dragging yourself off of him and laying down beside him.

"Fuck you," he croaked.

You smiled and nipped at his jaw. "Think you better just stay the night, wouldn't want you to drive like this."

Dean hesitated, then decided to take the bait. "Like what?"

"All weak and worn out," you said sympathetically. "Driving tired from a good fucking is the same as driving drunk, you know."

He let out a sharp chuckle. "I don't think that's how the saying goes."

"Really?" you asked sweetly, propping yourself on one elbow to look at him. "Could've sworn it was something like that...." You pretended to think.

"I'll stay," Dean sighed, snaking his arm around you and pulling you into his side. "If you promise we can do this again before checkout."

"I don't know," you said. "We might sleep too long. We might have to take it out to the car."

Dean shivered at the thought of fucking you in his Impala. "I guess that wouldn't be so bad."

[o-sachi]

Isagi Yoichi ₊⊹ Headcanons

ଳ Character; Isagi Yoichi (Bllk)

ଳ Tags; (random) regular/platonic hcs

— He’s the type of person who avoids stepping on the cracks on the sidewalk whenever he goes out on his usual walks. Whenever he does accidentally step on a crack, he lets out an audible ‘tsk’ and is a bit annoyed by the fact.

— On the top shelf of his cabinet, there’s a reused cookie tin where he chucks all the cool rocks he found on his walks. He has had the thing since childhood and now he doesn’t know what to do with it. So it has been collecting dust there and he’s pretending that it doesn’t exist.

— He’s a plain texter, but not a dry one. The only shortcuts he uses are otw, brb, ty, and btw. He’s guilty of overusing this emoji 🙂 and he unironically uses this one 😊. He uses both in a non-sarcastic manner. His top 5 emojis are: 🙂👍🏻😂😕⚽️

— His room is neat and tidy which his parents constantly praise him for. However, the colors are a bit dull. The only eye-catching area would be his manga shelf. He’s proud of his collection and enjoys rearranging it whenever he buys new manga. He arranges them by genre, so he can easily find something to read to fit his mood.

— He is a MAJOR sweet tooth. He’d eat sweets exclusively all day if he could. The only thing that’s stopping him was that one time he got extremely sick after eating too much kintsuba as a little kid. “Moderation is key,” he’d say while eating sweets.

— Despite being a sweet tooth, he’s not a picky eater. He eats anything his mother cooks which he is praised for as well. He doesn’t particularly hate any kind of food, but he’d prefer not to have bitter stuff. Even though he’s an active and growing dude, he isn’t much of a big eater. He actually gets full pretty fast.

— He likes to tell dad jokes which he stole learned from his dad. His personal favorite (which makes him chuckle a bit before saying it) is, “What has 4 wheels and flies? A garbage truck!” The only person who has laughed at that joke was his younger cousin that came to visit them at their house some time ago.

— His parents keep an odd doodle of a cyborg-looking creature picture framed in their kitchen. It was one of Isagi’s drawings from when he was just 6 years old. He gifted it to his mom on her birthday because he thought she loved his art.

— His biggest pet peeve is people who chew loudly. Somehow he can hear it more compared to other people. It irks him so much to the point that it makes him lose appetite altogether. He usually eats faster, so that he can relieve himself of those horrid sounds.

— Whenever he goes to the mall, there are 3 places he absolutely needs to visit. The first one is the sporting goods store so he can check out some new football equipment he might like. The second one is the 100¥ store (dollar store). He likes to look for cool trinkets and kitchen tools for his mom or tools for repair for his dad. Lastly, he has to go to the sweets shop that sells his favorite kintsuba.

— Much like on the field, it’s like Isagi transforms into a different person whenever he’s playing multiplayer games. It doesn’t matter if it’s the enemy or his teammate—they’re all catching some fire.

— Sometimes he can’t fall asleep quickly because he’s thinking up of scenarios (he does this to fall asleep quicker, but it has the opposite effect). He likes to repeat events if they didn’t turn out well or if it wasn’t as vivid as he wanted it to be.

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ Likes and reblogs are appreciated

o-sachi © 2024

[consistent-scribbles]

Every Humble Beauty In The World

You've always overlooked them.

The shiny little trinkets everywhere.

They lay in the street, in public parks,

in both parking lots and abandoned dirt lots.

Screws and gears, nuts and bolts,

rusted lengths of necklace chain,

and keys that go to nothing.

I pick up each one to go in my collection,

a shoebox full of pretty useless things.

I hid them before, so you wouldn't toss them out.

But I want you to know now.

I'm fixing the jacket you told me to throw away.

I've patched the holes at the pocket corners,

and reinforced the ripping seams.

But the button on the sleeve is still broken.

Every repair makes it feel more mine.

Please understand that it isn't a waste of time.

Remember the "weeds" you killed with salt last spring?

The tiny purple clusters of flowers

that bloom from sidewalk cracks

and the edges of lawns left unmown.

These, I have seen and found beautiful

every day since my childhood.

I finally found their name. They're called filaree.

You think grey and brown are ugly colors.

But grey is the color of storms and steel.

It is the color of fledgeling down and river stones.

Brown is the color of wood and soil,

of small animals in the grass,

the color of loved ones.

These colors may fade into the background,

but then their beauty is everpresent.

I know you think I'm childish and naive.

I just wish you could see what i do.

The dance of a wasp's flight,

the glide of a pencil when you write fast.

Is there not joy in finding a nice rock?

Just because they are small

does not diminish their wonders.

[courtingchaos]

At the End of the World

Kas!Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

A/N: Don’t read too much into this. It struck me late and fast and now we’re here.

Warnings: Blood drinking

18+ NSFW No Minors

Another late night closing with just you and two other employees and all of Hawkins at the doorstep to Melvalds. The deeper fissures in the town still sat open but the government had shown up with all sorts of machines and now things could be delivered again and here you were, at work. At the end of the world.

Your keys jingle against the door and you wave off your coworkers who walk down the sidewalk ahead of you. The lock sticks sometimes and you’re left to struggle until you can yank your key ring free. A curse and a kick at the stack of cardboard you need to toss, you shove your hand into your purse to make sure you didn’t forget your wallet again. The main street stays lit by giant floodlights, the distant sound of road work and construction coming in with the late evening breeze. It’s cold now when the sun sets, October turning the weather and the leaves all the same like the earth hadn’t been split open just 5 months ago. You catch a whiff of a bonfire sprinkled on the back of the wind and for a moment you can pretend that everything is okay, that it’s all normal again.

10 pm and it’s later than anything in town stays open, Melvalds and the grocery store being the exception nowadays. Food and pharmacy to keep everyone afloat and stationary, locked in place by faceless government officials who tell you it’s for your own safety. For everyone’s safety.

You shake your head to clear it though, unwilling to linger on your pessimism any longer tonight. A long day full of half smiles and constant running back and forth to pull apart another pallet of Things Everyone Needs. Your room at your parents house, the one you’d moved back into after everything went to shit, calls to you from the cracked sidewalk and you hustle faster to toss your garbage and get to your car. The water mains have finally been repaired so you know you can actually look forward to a consistent hot shower tonight, can practically feel the beating of the water against your back.

You beeline for the alleyway so you can toss the empty cardboard, no thought given to a darkened path. Hawkins had been under curfew since the feds rolled in and with main street lit up you hadn’t worried about taking out the trash on your own in a while. You have to set the box down to to flip open the lid and that’s when you hear it. A muffled breathing from behind dumpster number two, something wet and ragged, something that makes you still completely. It’s human that’s for sure, heavy and big by the sound of it and you start yelling at yourself silently, cursing your placidity.

You take a single step back when you see a head rock into view near the wheels of the other dumpster. Too dark to make out anything yet, just a mass of hair that hasn’t seen a brush in too long. A rasp of a breath in and weakly, “D-do you work here?”

Frozen in place with your body poised to run, but that voice holds no malice. They stutter on their deep breaths, breaths that sound pained. “Y-yeah.” You don’t relax but you aren’t set to sprint anymore. “Are you okay?”

Neither of you move closer but the figure pulls themselves into view more, a frankly too thin hand wraps around the corner of the dumpster to pull themselves forward and you finally can make out a face covered in grime. Eyes shine in the light that bleeds into the alleyway and he, you can finally tell, looks close to tears. Face pulled into a grimace when he scoots out to sit on questionable concrete.

“I just…I need help.” His other arm hugs his middle where his shirt is torn and your mind goes fast, trying to remember the first aid you’d learned in Girl Scouts a thousand years ago.

“Are you hurt? I can go get someone.” You glance over your shoulder knowing there’s at least a cop or an agent doing rounds at this time. “There’s a patrol-“

That’s your mistake, you’ll own it, turning around for too long. For trusting a stuttering mess. You turn back to face him and are stunned at how quickly he’s standing in front of you, those bright wet eyes boring holes into your head. You’d thought it was the shadows maybe but they really are black, from corner to corner, deep abyss that tracks your jump backwards.

You hadn’t heard him stand or shift or breathe and he’s so god damn close.

“I don’t need a patrol.” His voice sounds like white noise. A tuning to your hearing that makes your ears flex backwards at the sudden foreign noise. You swear you can feel it vibrating against your eardrums and coiling deep inside, words made corporeal to slither into your skull. There’s two voices bouncing between you, a double speak that seems to run cold around your neck. “I just need one of you.”

You couldn’t move if you wanted to. It isn’t fear holding your feet to the stained ground but an invisible grip, ironclad and cold, just like his words. You can move your eyes though and you rake over his appearance and try to keep it in your memory.

Long hair, dark eyes, no shoes, ratty jeans, torn raglan with a devil-

“Eddie?” Barely breathed out, silently uttered. He was dead. Well, at least presumed. You’d seen the flyers his uncle had put up and you’d seen how the town had treated them; crude drawings and torn off of the bulletin boards. “Eddie Munson?” You ask again to the pale face in front of you. Four years of high school seated next to him in drivers ed and home ec and art class. Not friends but acquaintances. You know that face. Even when it splits into a formidable grin you can see the ghost of his warm smile under cracked lips.

“Sort of.” His hands come up slowly to hold your neck, thumbs resting under your chin to tilt your head back. “It’s complicated.”

You expect his hands to tighten around your neck but they remain gentle in their movement, too cold against your skin. Unnaturally cold under your jaw where he starts to turn your head to the side.

“I thought I smelled something familiar around here.” His breath moves over your neck like the cold autumn breeze, carrying the promise of dead things at its end. Your heart beats tirelessly against your ribs and you still can’t move except for when he manipulates you around, his head dipping into the crook of your neck.

Fear should be at the forefront of your mind. You should be screaming and shaking, yelling for the police you know are just outside of the mouth of alley. You should be fighting back at him, fist wailing into his chest to push him back so you can fly out of his grip. However there’s a creeping calm of sorts that weaves through your thoughts. It feels fuzzy almost against your brain and you don’t even flinch when his dry tongue scratches over your skin.

“I do need help.” He keeps a hand pressed to your neck while the other pulls at your work polo, baring your flesh to his mouth. “Thank you.”

You can hear him in that moment, Eddie, not whatever this thing is that’s sinking its teeth into you. It hurts only for a moment, like a prick of a needle, and you can feel your mind going blank. Thoughts slip quick like water over rocks and you catch yourself on his shoulder to stay standing. That invisible force that bound you to the spot has faded as soon he begins to suck and again you should be running but you cling. There’s a peacefulness that comes with absence of thought and worry, enough so that you barely notice him drinking your blood. You barely notice the gore in his hair or the deep scars along his cheek. Your hearing begins to fade to only the single sound of his lips attached to you.

A fade to black for all your senses.

And then you feel it. Black tendrils that sneak into your awareness. They swirl and thrash in their form, long fingers of doom that grow around you. It’s a rushing feeling like a thousand wings brushing by you, pushing air across your face and ruffling your hair.

“Do you hear it?” Eddie whispers against your ear, lips warm and tongue wet where it drags along your lobe. “Monsters in the sky, right under us.” You’ve been lowered at some point, his back resting against the dumpster and you clung to the front of him. “So many they’d blot out the sun.” His hands still hold you but they’re warm now too against your cooling skin. “They’re looking for me.” A drop of something on your nose, something thick that drips onto his filthy shirt. “For us.”

Everything is muffled except for his clear voice. Those black tendrils move steadily along your awareness still, vines creeping in to drag you under into oblivion. Your throat sticks when you swallow and you try to form words before you pass out or die. Eddie’s head tilts in close to your mouth and you can smell the dirt and viscera on him.

“Something’s…around…”

“What is it?” He makes a show of looking around the shadows of the alleyway before letting his eyes drop to your barely open ones. The deep black is gone, replaced again by the familiar brown you know.

“Not here.” You need him to understand. The fingers crawl into your vision now, the few specks of light left that you can see, great red eyes in the middle distance of your mind. “Inside.” A weak motion to your head and you see it dawn on his face.

“You can see him too?” He asks you but doesn’t wait for a response before he digs his teeth into his own wrist. Blood rushes from the corners of his mouth and he shoves the mangled skin at you, your wince doing nothing to get it away from you. He cradles your head now, knees drawn up to help hold you while he feeds you something of himself. The blood pushes past your slack lips, bitter tannin where you expected salt and copper. No fight left in you while the wind rushes in your ears and the dark fist closes over your minds eye.

“I need help.” He intones again when you latch on to his wrist finally. “Will you help me?” No double speak this time, no white noise to warp your thoughts. Eddie asks you for help while you lay in a cold alley on cold concrete and drink from his self inflicted wound. You’ve never been friends, just acquaintances, but the blood is heavy on your tongue. He holds you close and keeps you both hidden in the dark. He sees the same monstrous form you do and there’s fear in those brown eyes, still shining, still wet with tears.

Your senses stop whining like a flicked switch, your hands coming up to grasp more fully at his offered arm. You nod and keep drinking and there’s that smile again, the real one, the warm one. “Thank you.”

It’s silent now except for the sounds of your eating and the rush of leathery wings beating underneath your feet.

[heyitschartic]

I love the Harrow Nova AU a ton, it is one of my favorite fanfic concepts to read for TLT. I think as a concept it's so intriguing just because of how much it turns everything on its head. Gideon the favored, Harrow the reject. The different ways that authors decide to depict this dynamic can be so fun and interesting. Despite this, I've only read one fanfic that didn't partway through break my suspension of disbelief beyond repair.

Something writers need to recongize is that most of the appeal in Gideon the Ninth is the relationship between Gideon and Harrow. It's fun, it's fucked up, it's interesting, and it's tragic. This AU inevitably breaks that usual bond and almost calls for some new, interesting fucked up dynamics. And you'd better deliver it or else you're stripping away some of the best parts of the story for a tacky coat of paint.

I think the problem is that you need to make some serious changes and stick to them without cracking the narrative like an egg on the sidewalk. Gideon as the Reverand Daughter is interesting, but it also requires her to, you know, act like the Reverand Daughter. A lot of the fun byplay in Gideon the Ninth is that the two of them are putting on that facade that the Ninth are fine, everything is okay, we're just two nuns. Their entire house relies on this bluff. But if Gideon is the Reverand Daughter, unless you're gonna completely change her personality, then it's gonna hit the point where you go "why is she still doing this? Gideon wouldn't care about preserving the Ninth the way Harrow would." And if you've stripped that rigid structure from her, then you better have something interesting to replace it, some fun reason that she needs to play the devout nun, or else, inevitably, everything else will start collapsing in on itself.

Harrow's situation is just so interesting on its own. The horror, the grief, the rage, the purpose of a generation given to her and then stripped away. There's so much juicy stuff to work with and if she's playing off a wet noodle, I'd almost wish she'd just do both of us a favor and kill Gideon off.

I like Harrow Nova. I like the concept and I like the stories, but it requires a pretty fundamental change to keep the narrative flowing. Maybe they're sent to something not Canaan, somewhere they're being watched and need to keep up appearances or risk having major plans blow up in their face. Maybe their new personalities force Cav Harrow to take the lead, playing mouthpiece for a Necromancer who can't handle people. Maybe Harrows life is literally on the line and Gideon cannot do anything but play-act the nun or Harrow will get killed.

There are so many fun possibilities for this what if, please use them! Otherwise it will become a fix fic and nobody wants that.

[reqxxyt]

the regrets i never made

pairings: pierre g. x f!reader

warnings: breakup, attempting at writing angst, cursing

masterlist requests are open!

[unedited]

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Fuck you. Just fuck you Pierre.”

“Fine. Just leave like everyone else” he shut you down and you stopped in your tracks, turning to meet his hard gaze as tears threatened to fall through your glare. 

“Do not put the blame on me for trying to fix this. To fix us” you made a movement to indicate the two of you. Your voice softened as a single tear fell “I have tried so hard to repair what was broken for so long. I’m sorry Pierre but I can’t stay”

His silence was enough of a response to turn and leave, with nothing but a cracked heart and a headache. 

“Y/n?” His voice brought me back to the present, pulling me from all past memories that were drowned for so long. I hadn’t turned, too scared that I wasn’t hearing things and he was actually here. But then I felt the rain that was pouring on me a second ago coming to a full stop and lifted my head seeing a black umbrella, the one I had let him borrow all those years ago.

I finally turned, so slow that I could feel cars beside us spring by, splashing some water onto my shoes. I paid attention to  anything but the person who had given me everything I knew for so long, the person I had broken myself for. 

“I thought I recognized you” His voice was so soft, eyes looking apologetic wanting to spring out so many questions with curiosity lingering on the top of his tongue. “How- how have you been?”

“Good” was the only word I could say, it was true. I had rebuilt my life with the help of my singular friend and now I felt the happiest I’ve ever felt. Just like the first couple of months of my, and Pierre's relationship, vulnerable and naive can do that to a girl. I reciprocated the same question although I didn’t put much care into my tone. 

“Good as well” He bit his lip feeling the need to mention something else. “I thought I would never see you” 

I had hoped I would never see him, afraid I would run back into his arms, begging to come back but instead I look at him and feel pleased with myself. Although I didn’t say it back then, having cut him off completely, I wished him the best. 

My gaze dropped down, paying more interest to my torn soaking shoes than him right now. “Do you ever miss it?” he asked, almost blurted out but he said it with such a gentle tone, okay with the idea of me not responding but I did anyway,

“I thought I would” I summarized my rant, blinking back upwards to him hearing the rain from the umbrella stop as the sun started to glare down forcing me to squint my eyes. His eyebrows furrowed, not completely understanding my response, “I missed the memories, the good ones at least but not so much the way you treated me like a girlfriend of convenience” 

This time, his gaze dropped down still having the umbrella upwards although there was no longer any rain pouring down, only dropplets that ran down the umbrella. With almost no hesitation, I lifted my hand and held the umbrella pushing it to the side. Normally my insides would flip at the simple touch of his finger but now I felt calm, at ease, as I took my hand away, bringing it back to my side as his eyes trailed them before coming back to make eye contact. 

“Have a good one Pierre” I said before turning filling my jacket pockets with my hands as I forced one foot in front of another, every step feeling heavier than the last, walking down the sidewalk. I could't look back. I shouldn't. I only hung my head high no matter how much I wanted to drag it to the side to peak if he was still there but my mind forced me to keep walking.

As I walked down the barely lighted ally, with pouring rain dripping only the outside of my rain jacket as I held tightly onto the holding of umbrella afraid it’ll fly away from the strong breeze. I had just finished my last final of college and desperately wanted to eat, but most restaurants hid in the alley. Not very creepy. 

A figure caught my eye as I was about to pass it, it was huddled onto the side of the ally curled to almost a ball being poured rain, my heart pained from the sight hating seeing anyone be poured rain on. I debated internally before walking up to him already adjusting the hood of my rain jacket to cover my hair. 

Without saying a word, I shifted the umbrella to cover his head instead of my own. The guy's eyes trailed from my shoes, moving upward until catching eye contact with my own. His eyes narrowed and I asked myself internally if I had just made the stupidest decision. 

“Taking pity on me?” he asked, scrunching up his nose and I immediately shook my head not wanting it to seem that way. 

“No, of course not. Would just hate to see you get sick” I responded, stumbling over my words and I only got a half-lifted smile, amused over my excuse. “Here take it” I offered the umbrella and he refused, standing and I just now realized his height, analyzing his features, the one that struck me the most in this half-light ally were his colored eyes, which told so much yet held nothing. I had a sudden feeling to want to know everything about him. 

“If you care so much about me getting potentially sick, you should take care of me then” He shrugged hoping to get a reaction out of me but I stood still, blankly staring at his eyes. I heard my stomach grumble beneath me, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. 

“I think I would much rather eat,” I said, handing the umbrella over giving him no choice but to accept it. He chuckled as I headed down to get food, not caring much about my 5 dollar worth umbrella. 

The next morning, I spotted him at a coffee shop alone but I didn’t approach him, instead, he approached me. He asked me out on a date and promised to give back my umbrella as a trade. Instead of accepting it that night, I kept ‘forgetting’ about it every date that passed and it soon just became his. 

[simplymelnaie-blog]

Risk //Benny cross // Part 1

As the hot sun baked down on the pavement of the sidewalk, you felt as if your skin was going to melt off. It was late June and the high temperatures were record breaking despite there still being a long summer ahead.

The sound of your heels echoed behind you as walked along the sidewalk through the neighborhood. There were kids out riding bikes and playing in the sprinklers in the front yards.

Even though it was nearing 4pm, the air was still sticky and warm. You prayed it wouldn't mess up your freshly styled hair. It had taken you 3 hours to get yourself ready and out of the house, now you just had to get to your destination.

You enjoyed walking, especially in the summer but you didn't normally have people you wanted to impress, not like today. You wanted to look nice for your date. It helped that you lived relatively close to town. But as you walked further you began to regret not  catching a ride.

Eventually you started to see the familiar store fronts and car lots come into view. By this point your purse was feeling like a ton of bricks on your shoulder and your throat was dry. You cursed yourself for not grabbing a Coke or something cool to drink on the way.

After what seemed like forever you saw the familiar peeling sign Harry's Garage and knew you had to make a pit stop before you passed out from heat exhaustion. Surely they would have something for you to cool down with.

You bounded the corner and walked in through the open garage doors that faced the street. You were greeted with the scent of oil and gasoline. The hum of a radio played from somewhere in the shop. There were two heads on the other side of a station wagon that was pulled into one of the bays and you immediately knew who they belonged to. You tried to stifle your steps and sneak around the car but a deep voice spoke up and echoed on the concrete walls, "We know you're there"

"How?" You exclaimed, stomping your heel and coming around the car fully to reveal yourself. "We could hear your heels from around the block" Cal, laughed, pointing at your feet amusingly.

There was a small fan pushing around hot air in front of them while they worked. Cal and Benny had been crouched beside a motorcycle, both sat on stools and drenched in sweat.

"I thought you weren't allowed to work on bikes in here no more" You teased, picking your hair up and off your neck for a moment of relief in front of their fan.

"Yeah well what the old guy doesn't know won't hurt him" Benny says plainly, sitting back to let Cal wrench on something within the bikes motor.

They were referring to Harry Klein who owned the car repair shop. Back years ago, you would see the old man in this shop everyday, even on Sundays. Even after he had technically retired he still worked his ass off in the shop. After a heart attack about three years ago his wife made him fully stop working and hire on some mechanics to take over. Cal and Benny basically ran the shop now, along with some other mechanics and the occasional Vandal when they were bored. It helped that Harry didn't care much as long as the cars were getting fixed on schedule.

Benny took in your appearance thinking how clean you looked compared to them. He was up to his elbows in grease and sweat and you looked like a doll. The yellow dress you wore was pretty and dainty, different from what he was used to seeing you in, but it fit you perfect. He could see the sweat glistening on your skin and had to force himself to look back down at the bike.

"It's so damn hot today" You whined, setting your purse down on the hood of the car beside where they were sitting, before walking past them and into the break room.

You'd been in this garage many times before and knew where the drinks and snacks were kept. The sound of the radio and heels echoed through the shop. After a couple minutes you emerged back to the main bay with 3 ice cold Cokes balanced in your arms.

"Here" You nudged one at Cal, who took it and immediately cracked it open.

"Here, Benny" You offered next, holding it out to him. He couldn't help but notice your nails were painted in a crisp white color that matched your heels.

He shook his head once, motioning with the wrench still in his hand, "Put it on the back of your neck, it'll cool you down"

You smiled at him and looked away quick, the way you always did, before turning on your heel and walking back to the fan. You cracked open your can, bringing it your lips and took a long sip. It was refreshing to say the least.

"What're you all dolled up for?" Cal asks, sitting his Coke on the ground next to him. He took the bottom of his shirt and wiped at the sweat above his brow.

Cal was from California and was the best mechanic around and knew his way around anything with a motor. Even though he wasn't from around here, he fit in perfect.

You set your open can down next to the fan and gathered your hair up again, doing as Benny suggested and placing the other can on the back of your neck. You immediately felt relief.

"I'm meeting some girlfriends for an early dinner" You said, rolling the can across your neck to keep the cold sensation. "I don't know why I thought it'd be a good idea to walk"

"Yeah, too hot for that" Cal chuckled, going back to what he was doing on the bike. He tapped his foot to the sound of the radio.

You rolled your eyes as he stated the obvious, "What're you boys getting up to tonight?"

"Everyone's meetin' at the club" Benny says looking up at you from his stool. He noticed that your hair looked different, big puffy curls instead of your natural hair.

You knew the club meant the Stoplight bar. It's what the Vandals had claimed as their own a couple years back when Johnny started the club.

"I might swing by later on" You nodded, feeling a little bit more relaxed with the cold compress on your neck, "but I should get going"

Benny watched you, nodding to what you said, elbows resting on his knees. He had this thing about staring at you. You'd always noticed it because he never tried to hide it.

"Uh, you wanna ride?" He offered standing up from his stool abruptly, nearly knocking over the tools Cal had between them.

Just as you were about to respond, a car pulled up in front of one of the bays. Brucie and Gail stepped out and walked into the shop. You smiled at the couple, walking hand in hand. They'd been together for as long as you could remember, despite Gail being younger than him.

"Hey kid" He smiled, walking past you to take Bennys place on the stool next to Cal, "Don't you look pretty"

"Got a hot date tonight?" Gail added, coming to stand next to you by the fan. Her long black hair was all pinned up.

"I gotta get going" You rolled your eyes at her, but couldn't hide the blush that crept onto your already warm face. You walked next to where Benny was standing, your arm brushing his as you grabbed your purse from the hood.

"The offer still stand for that ride?" You smiled up at him, fixing your purse on your shoulder.

"Yeah 'course" He muttered, wiping his grease covered hands on his pants.

"I'll take you" Gail said from behind you, "The bike will mess your pretty hair up"

"Are you sure?"

"Please, it'll be nice to get away from these guys for a little bit" She smirked, already walking out of the shop and towards Brucie's car, expecting you to follow behind her.

"Thanks anyways Benny" You shrugged, offering him your signature smile before turning on your heel and making your way out the opened door.

"Oh" You stopped abruptly, turning and tossing the can you'd been cooling off with to Benny, "Thanks for the pop"

He caught it effortlessly and watched as you walked into the hot sun, your heels clicking for a couple seconds before the sound was replaced with the car door being shut. There was beat of silence. Until Brucie leaned back on the stool, crossing his arms over his chest, "She's definitely going on a date"

"Why'd you think that?" Cal asked taking another sip of his Coke and watching the car back out of the lot and head down the road. He was too involved with the bike to pay much attention at all.

"On a hot day like this a woman isn't gonna wear her hair down for just anybody" Brucie stated as if he were an expert on the matter, "Trust me, I know some things about women and their hair"

Cal nodded like he understood but he didn't really. He hadn't bothered with women for a couple months as he would much rather tinker with engines than a woman's brain.

Benny tossed the can of pop in his hands for a minute before cracking it open. It was nearly warm now after being pressed to your neck but he didn't care, he was too busy wondering who you were going on a date with.

_______ Gail turned the music down and took a look at you once the car was making its way down the street. "So who's the lucky guy?"

"Is it that obvious?" You groan, putting your face in your hands and laughing.

She only nodded, cracking a grin and letting her hand float with the wind outside the driver side window.

"I thought I was pretty convincing with the guys" You said, flipping the visor mirror down to touch up your makeup, taking your lip stick from your purse and applying it smoothly.

"Well the guys are dumbasses" Gail laughs, then glances over at you when the car stops at a stop light, "Do I know him?"

You shook your head proudly. You were confident that no one from the club would know him. He was a nice college boy. He came from a good family and he'd never been around a motorcycle in his life.

"Well what's his name?" She pressed.

Gail was a pretty girl, smart too. She was a couple years older than you. You sometimes wondered how she ended up with Brucie. He was a great guy and you knew him nearly all your life, but he was closer in age to Johnny. But when you saw them together it always answered your question, they were like soul mates. You always wanted something like that. Something that felt natural and easy.

"His name is Ray" You smiled, picking at your nails nervously, "I meant him at the library-"

"Of course you did" Gail interrupted, taking a left turn. "I would've never thought having your nose in a book would get you a date"

"He's very nice and he comes from a good family"

"He rich?" She said flatly, by then shot you an amused smirk. 

You knew she'd been picking on you. But you didn't want to admit that he did come from a wealthy family and that he spent his spare time golfing and going to the country club on the other side of town.

"Just up here on the right" You pointed, pulling your purse back on your shoulder and adjusting your dress as best you could in the car.

When Gail brought the car to a stop in front of the diner, she smiled at you, turning in her seat and reaching over to fix a couple strands of your hair.

You scanned the front of the restaurant. Despite the hot day there was a lot of people out and about for the dinner rush.

"He's right there" You turned to Gail suddenly and moved your wide eyes to the right, not wanting to point him out directly. "Green shirt, black hair"

"Oh he's a looker" She said, looking him over. He was leaning near the door of the restaurant, reading a small paper back book with a pencil in hand, making little marks.

"Good thing Benny didn't drop you off" Gail said laughing to herself.

"I'm not stupid," You smirked, opening the door and stepping out, "I was gonna have him drop me off down the street"

She laughed, shouting a goodbye out the window as she drove off.

[swampstew]

Eustass Kid, G-51 ~ Cock Cage

Summary: Modern monster AU; Kid as a Barghest - a mythical, monstrous black dog with large teeth and claws in Scottish lore. Your bratty boyfriend lost a bet and is dragging his feet to deliver. You make him choose. Kid never responded to authority well.

Warnings: I'm not even sorry for how long this took me, I don't think I'll ever write anything that can top this. WHEW. SPICY AF. Eustass Kid as a Barghest and female reader, long term established relationship. Domming Kid. and it kinda works, cock cage, degradation/humiliation, bdsm dynamics, orgasm denial, oral (Eustass receiving), masturbation (Reader on self), edging, vaginal penetration, and creampie. Word Count: 2.7K

Rolling out from under the covers with an annoyed grunt at having breached his warm cocoon with cool air, Kid shook his ruffled bed head and stumbled out of bed with a curse. On his way out of the bathroom he stubbed his toe, barely biting back a howl.He rapped his knuckles against the doorframe and stomped to the kitchen where Killer handed him a cup of coffee. Exchanging the mug, Killer’s calloused fingers grazed Kid’s palm and let out a static shock.

“FUUUUCCCKKK!” Kid couldn’t help the instinctive spasm of his hand when it happened, sloshing the steaming black liquid over the lip edge, and spilled on his hand and the light colored carpet.

“I FUCKING HATE LIVING IN THIS APARTMENT!” he bellowed.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Killer didn’t look phased. “Don’t blame the apartment, it’s Friday the 13th.”

“HAAH?” Kid looked at the blonde incredulously. “Don’t tell me you believe in that shit?”

Killer pulled back his hair to reveal he was wearing a weathered, denim vest that had Kid’s pack symbol on the back. Pinned on the collar was a small sprig of white heather.

“For good luck. Want my extras? Giving them out to the rest of the crew.”

“No.”

Thunder boomed outside and they could hear the wind blowing so forcefully that the tree next to their second story apartment was getting accosted by branches. With a roll of his eyes, Kid got ready to meet his girlfriend as it stormed. When it lightened up enough, he prepared to leave, opening his umbrella before he walked out the door.

“KID DON’T—” Killer screeched.

Too late. A sharp gust of wind and rain blew through the open hallway-like corridor that led to the stair case, knocking the umbrella clean out of Kid’s hand, tumbling quickly away.

“FUCKS SAKE!”

His day only got worse. No street parking near his girlfriend’s rental forced him to walk two blocks from the parking garage. The sidewalk was full of cracks he tripped over, he walked under a tall ladder with no regard and knocked over painting materials – which he did not stop for – and he kicked a rock that broke someone’s mirror, that he was hounded into paying for repairs.

While the rain had stopped on the drive over, the day still looked dreary. He powered through the walk, trying to reignite his excitement for the alleged surprise that was waiting for him. Reaching her doorway, he took out his copy of the house key and let himself in. Before he could step through the threshold, he was nearly thrown off balance by a startled black cat that dashed from underfoot.

He pinched the bridge of his nose to maintain his composure, not wanting his girlfriend to see him in a shitty mood as soon as he walked in.

“Be right down, stud muffin!” he heard her melodic voice call down from the second story of her cozy place.

“Take your time babe,” he responded. “When did you get a cat?”

“I don’t have a cat!”

“Huh…”

Dismissing the incident, Kid pulled out the candy dish from the fire mantel place and pulled out a joint, waiting for Y/N. He nearly coughed out an inhale when she came down, looking gorgeous in a pair of olive-colored ripped skinny jeans with a casual, pastel purple off-the-shoulder corset top; fishnet stockings were not-so-subtly hidden from the ripped sections. A pair of comfortable kitten heels he had bought her in the past hung off her fingers, a wrapped box sitting in her free hand.

“That fer’me sweetheart?” he stubbed out the joint and tucked it behind his ear. The herbs were mixed with freshly rolled lavender, leaving a pleasant smell in the air.

“Mhm. Since I won the last bet, I get to pick the kink this time,” she gave him a mischievous wink.

“Hope it’s somethin’ good.”

“It’s…something. Probably bittersweet.”

Kid unwrapped the present with an eager smile that fell flat when he opened the lid. Lifting the object out, he inspected the steel cage with trepidation.

“Is this what you asked me to measure my dick for?!”

“Yep!”

“Noooooooooooo please tell me its April fools.”

“It’s Friday the 13th, in October. I won the bet in July. We’ve got a big afternoon ahead of us, go slip it on.”

“UGH why!?”

“It’s part of my fantasy. I don’t bitch when we do what you want to do.”

“I’m having a really bad day already,” he whined.

“You can put it on now in your human form. Or if you keep pouting, I’ll have you wear it in your other form.”

Kid froze. He officially pushed her buttons. Granted, she always allowed him a shit-ton of leeway when he acted out, trying to change her mind to something he wanted to do, but after two and a half years of dating and finally sharing his true heritage with her, she started using his secret as a means to reign him in after too much taking and not enough giving in their relationship.

She called it, play bitch games – win bitch prizes. Making him do whatever it is she wanted to do, but instead of bringing her boyfriend along, she brought her best doggo. Him. She swore that she came up with the idea herself but Kid still believed that Killer, Heat, and/or Wire planted the seed to fuck with him.

Well, his middle name is Petulant.

“Bad boy,” her tone low and stern at his bitchy responses.

He shifted into his true form, a Barghest, with the body of a giant, menacing canine with deadly claws and sharp teeth. A true guard dog. With his ears laid back, Kid let out a huff through his jowls. His coat a gorgeous brindle pattern of black, gold, and red, with a thick mohawk like strip of deep red fur running from between his ears down his spine. His tail fluffy and coarse, hurt like a motherfucker if he whipped you with it. Kid’s eyes maintained their natural amber glow with flecks of orange in the irises.

“How do you plan on explaining a chastity cage on your dog?” Kid growled.

“Who’s gonna notice?” she pulled out a pirate costume from the closet.

His hackles rose, “You planned this didn’t you?” a pissed off bark escaped his jaws.

“Nope. I just know you very well. I kept the receipt to return it if you had shown a crumb of compromise. I picked this horror maze bar crawl because I thought you would think it was cool and have fun. Why do you make this harder than it needs to be?”

Kid hung his head, letting out a short whine that was so high pitched Y/N almost didn’t register it. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to feel the cold metal on my dick.”

“Sorry Tulip, this was custom ordered cause I didn’t think you’d like the other styles.”

“If I wear the cage in my human form do I still need to wear a costume?”

“Ahh yeah, people who dress up can get a round of free shots.”

“Just one round?” he complained. “Ugh what’s my fuckin costume? Wait, what’s your costume?”

“One round per establishment. Limit is 6 though and you get stamped for counting purposes – ANYWAYS – with you as a dog pirate, I’m going as millennial mermaid Princess Ariel,” she twirled on her feet, sparkly purple nail polish on her toes and fingernails. “If you’re in human form, we’ll go as millennial Hercules and Megara!”

“…I’d rather be a monster than a fucking hero.”

Y/N blushed, “That shouldn’t sound as hot as it does when you look like this. Let’s put this on and head to the place.”

As they toured the drink stands and food booths, Kid’s tail twitched every time he felt the lock on his cage swing and glide against the metal. He wasn’t pleased with how sensitive his body already felt with the stupid thing on. It felt snug, especially with the black and yellow patterned shorts Y/N had buttoned him in. Feeling annoyed as hell at the Velcro strapped, fluffy maroon pirate coat that was draped over his back, but short enough to not drag on the ground behind him and didn’t cover all of his mohawk mane. There was an additional Velcro strap that hung off to the side of his flank, two lightweight plushies mimicking a gun and sword to his pirate costume.

A thick, black leather collar with spiky studs was belted around his neck. Two light blue steel tags with yellow rubber trims hung from the collar: his rabies vaccination and his girlfriend’s number to call if he was ever lost; Killer’s number was on the opposite side. A gift from her on their two year anniversary. He swore up and down he hated it, but more often than not, he enjoyed wearing it during sex. Or strapping it over Y/N’s neck.

The memories made him tingle, letting out a low grumble as he felt the first of many waves of arousal as the night wore on. He understood why Y/N chose the outfit she did – casual enough to get away without looking overzealous of the festive month, and flirty enough to do the things she was intentionally doing to fluster him during the date.

It was when Y/N said, “If only you were in your human form, you could be groping me under the table or in between the alleyways and dead end zones,” that Kid’s patience broke and he pulled on his leash.

“Time to go,” he snapped, grabbing the chain leash with his jaw and yanked Y/N behind him. She stumbled in her step as she threw her change in the tip jar, downed her final shot, and grabbed her remaining cup.

“NO PULLING TULIP!”

Kid’s rabid barking could be heard throughout the maze arena.

Y/N’s shoulder was sore by the time they made it back to her home. Unlocking her door, Kid towered over her standing on his hind legs, pushing her through the door. He pinned her to the ground as he kicked the door close, drool falling from his jowl as his eyes looked red and incensed.

“TAKE. IT. OFF.”

With trembling fingers, Y/N unbuttoned the shorts. As they fell away, her eyes zeroed in on the strain behind the cage. Even in dog form, he was intimidating to look at – everywhere. The cage was doing its job perfectly, an angry looking member restrained in its confines.

“No. You didn’t have to drag me home. My shoulder hurts.”

“Y/N,” he warned.

“You’re not in charge tonight Kid. I am. That was the bet. What happened to Eustass Kid keeps his word?”

His body still pinned her down, but he leaned back a little bit to give him space to transform. As his body changed, his costume ripped apart at the seams, falling to either side of him. His bulging muscles were littered with scraps of thread and strips of fabric as his body heaved from how angry he was. Completely naked over her, his hands roughly palmed her body before settling over her shoulder.

Then, with a delicate touch, he began kneading the muscle around the sore area. Using his fingers to help reduce stiffness, gently moving her arm in stretching motions to loosen her muscles up from all the restraining she had attempted to enforce on him. It had been kinda cute, in the moment, only he couldn’t see it through the red he saw. Didn’t really comprehend the pain he was inflicting in his hurry to drag her home.

Her home: where he kept a bag of toiletries, books, an extra tool set, and had recently purchased a small dresser to hold more of his clothes in her room for his extended sleepovers. The latest record being 15 consecutive days. Her home plus him. Maybe their home…one day…

Nah.

He’d build them a palace from the ground up before he’d let them settle in this tiny shed.

Finishing the impromptu massage, Kid pressed his matte painted lips against her neck, slowly kissing up and down her flesh. Lingering every time goosebumps broke out on her skin. Her hands clutched his face and brought him down to her face, kissing him with fiery passion. They made out until they were panting, lipstick smeared across faces, Y/N’s neck littered with small, shallow hickies.

“I’m ready to play a game,” Y/N gasped.

“Which one, doll?”

“The coin toss.”

He grinned, “Sounds fair to me.”

The rules were simple: the reward for calling heads was 5 minutes of head, if tails came up the punishment was the belt had to stay on as Y/N masturbated and he could only watch; the reward for calling tails was one orgasm, and if heads came up, the punishment was edging for 15 minutes, with the cage on.

He won head twice in a row before his time was called, shutting down his ejaculation that was 2 seconds shy of shooting down her throat. The torture of watching Y/N swirl her clit with a vibrator her made her had his balls aching dully.

Then the edging came. Kid laid on his back with a pinched face as he tried with all his might to will his orgasm to come out even with the restraint. Y/N’s slick pussy drooled over the cage, soaking his sensitive skin, making him throb painfully. She slid back and forth on the cage as the edge of the lock pressed against her clit making her cry out as she came again. Kid could feel the pulsing of her core even through the barrier of the steel and he almost wept.

He had the strength to rip it off if he really wanted to. But he was weak for his sweetheart and caved in to her desires. Would do so more often to avoid the calculated torture she was putting him through. Next time just go to the stupid event, he berated himself mentally. The phone timer went off and Kid let out a shaky sigh of relief, tears rolling from the outer edge of his eyes, his eyeliner smudged and leaking with the tears.

“You’re turn to flip, big guy.”

Kid flipped the coin and Y/N caught it.

“I’ll get the key,” she smirked and got up, but not before sliding her pussy over Kid’s face leaving a mess of slick around his mouth and nose, which he eagerly lapped up.

He laid in his position until she came back, gently unlocking the cage. As soon as the two sides left his heated skin and his cock was free to fully swell until it was as hard as the steel that confined him, he flipped Y/N to be under him.

“Let me in,” he husked, prodding his tip between her folds. Bottoming out in one thrust the second she gasped approval.

He jackhammered inside her, eager and feral to release deep inside. She let out incoherent yelps as his hips smacked against the back of her thighs as he hoisted her up by her ass. Curling over her, pushing her legs back into a mating press, balls heavily slapping her ass as they tightened.

Y/N wailed as the position stoked her final orgasm. Clamping down on his cock, Kid’s thrusts became sloppy as he panted and moaned, fucking her through hers before he allowed himself to cum. The final tremors and twitches subsided and he let out a snarl, digging his nails into her arms as he stroked himself with her gummy walls, cumming deep and hard. A creamy ring formed on his cock as he slowed his pumping, finally spent. Instead of pulling out, he clutched his girlfriend to his chest and rolled them over, keeping his cock warm as he rubbed her arms to soothe the crescent shaped dents he made in her skin.

“Hmmm…” he grumbled tiredly as he tucked Y/N over his chest, kissing the top of her head. “Y’know…oddly enough, my bad luck suddenly went away today.”

“Oh yeah? When?”

His painted nails stroked her hair as he thought about how much fun she had, even with him in his monstrous form. “When I was hanging out with you. I love you, Y/N.”

“Awww,” she cooed, shifting to move up his torso, giving his shoulder a light bite, “I love you too Kid.”

14 tiles to go, 35 calls made so far.

[lovelaurs]

Please do it I would love to read a fic about freaking Laurence getting his glass prescription or something like that. ( also i head cannon laur has such bad vision and he has to wear grandpa glasses) 

AN EYE FOR DETAIL

featuring : laurance, cadenza, & castor synopsis : cadenza convinces laurance to finally get glasses. but when they arrive for his appointment, something seems a bit off about this optometrist. tags : poor eyesight laurance, eye care, getting glasses, silly shenanigans, traumatized forever word count : 1.3k a/n : as someone who has incredibly bad eyesight and refused to wear my glasses for years, i figured, "hey, why don't i project my issues onto laurance?". well, that's what i did. the man has poor eyesight now. enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“I’m not wearing them, Cadenza!”

Laurance yelled, staring daggers at the pair of glasses within his sister’s hands.

“I mean- just look at it! It’s practically a relic!”

The glasses in question were his Grandfather’s; as they were very ancient looking in appearance. A lot was simply wrong about these spectacles: a slight crack had formed on the left lens, along with the hinges being extremely loose, and not to mention the thing just overall looking like it was from the 1960s.

In short? They sucked.

“Look, Laurance. I wouldn’t have to force you to wear these if you simply just, oh I don’t know, went to the eye doctor?” Cadenza put her hands on her hips, raising her eyebrow at the brunette.

Laurance twitched at the thought.

The eye doctor? Like hell he was going to the Optometrist!

Ever since he got pink eye when he was younger after playing with the pigs on his farm, he had always been afraid of the optometrist. 

When he went in initially for a consultation all those years ago; the tools, lenses, and prescriptions freaked him out. Of course, he only needed eyedrops, so he wasn’t in dire need for any specific treatment, but still… The very idea of it horrified the poor man.

His eyes had always been sensitive.

The smallest eyelash, a drop of water, the slightest amount of soap from the shower; any of these things would easily bring the man to his knees in defeat. Hell, even seeing blurry or smudges through glasses would make his eyes water. 

He was pretty vulnerable.

That is why this man downright refused to get his eyes checked.

The concept of looking through a possibly blurry lens just sends chills up his spine. Even though the action was needed to help prescribe the exact lenses he needed to see better, he just couldn’t bear it.

“I just- I can’t go, alright! That place freaks me out!” Laurance crossed his arms, raising his head in defiance.

Cadenza sighed, pulling out her phone. “If you don’t come with me to get glasses… I’ll text our dads to not allow you to babysit Caleb for a month.”

Laurance gasped dramatically, bringing a hand to his chest. “You wouldn’t dare.”

She flipped her phone over to Laurance, showing him the already typed out message she planned to send to Joh and Hayden. “Try me.”

Within the next hour, the two scheduled an appointment.

About a month later, Laurance was nervously pacing on the sidewalk outside a building named “Castor’s Eye Care”.

The brunette began to bite his nails nervously as Cadenza grabbed her purse from the car, rolling her eyes. She closed the car door behind her before walking up to her brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Relax, Laurance. It’ll be fine.”

“You’ll stay with me the whole time, right?”

At that, Cadenza winced. “Well… um…”

Laurance’s eyes widened before he covered his face with his hands. “Oh Irene, you’re leaving me.”

She released his shoulder, shaking her hands. “No, not at all! I’ll still be in the building with you, but I need to get my own reading glasses repaired.”

She started to walk towards the door, until she turned around to find Laurance standing in the same spot. 

“Clock’s ticking, Laurance. Come on!” She looped her arm through his and dragged him along as he groaned.

As they stepped into the bright building, Laurance was immediately overwhelmed by just how many pairs of glasses there were across the walls.

Laurance looked around, his nerves starting to get to him, while Cadenza approached the desk to check them in. The generic pop music playing over the speakers was not helping in the slightest

After making sure they were ready for their appointments, Cadenza sat down on the bench by the window and patted the other side, silently asking Laurance to join her.

He sat down beside her, his leg shaking up and down as he kept his eyes focused on the door. Something in the back of his mind wished that the hinges would break, causing it to shut tight forever.

He never wanted to see beyond that very door.

Unfortunately, life seemed to always go against the poor brunette, as the door swiftly opened to reveal an older man with frizzled hair and a bandana. He looked around, almost confused, before his eyes landed on Laurance.

The man pointed at Laurance sternly, then motioned for him to come over.

Laurance nervously looked at Cadenza who nodded and pushed him out of the chair, causing Laurance to stumble forward. She smiled, speaking through her teeth, “Get your ass in there now or so help me, Laurance.”

With that, Laurance quickly made his way over to the curious looking optometrist, following him into the room.

The man motioned for him to sit on the chair, to which Laurance quietly complied; adjusting onto the leather chair with frantic nerves.

What didn’t help his anxiety were the countless pictures of chickens across the room’s walls.

Why were there so many chickens?

As the somewhat odd man began funneling through the cabinets, seeming to be looking for something, Laurance thought it best to break the tension with some small talk.

“So… how long have you been an eye doctor for?” He asked. He winced at the feedback that came from the song Toxic by Britney Spears playing obnoxiously through the telecom above. 

“Ah, well, only a few weeks! Can you believe how easy it is to get a license in this sort of thing- aha found it!”

What.

As it seemed the man found the tool he was looking for, he whipped around to face Laurance with it in hand.

He was going to die here, wasn’t he?

Laurance tugged at his collar nervously, his leg continuing to bounce. “Wow that’s uh… certainly fast, Mr…?”

“Mr. Castor!”

Oh gods.

The building was named Castor’s Eye Care… this newly graduated doctor had finished his lessons and rented out a building all within the same month.

Laurance silently repeated prayers to Irene in his head as Castor approached, mysterious tool in hand. His eyes seemed to focus too bluntly on the object as Castor followed his line of sight to it. He quickly averted his eyes to one of the many pictures of chickens hanging about.

“Ah, this old thing?” He motioned at the tool. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing to fear! I’ve only been officially certified for a few weeks, but I’ve been doing this sort of thing in the Black Market for years!”

Black Market?! Who the hell allowed this guy to start a business?!

“Now, let’s take a look at those pretty green eyes of yours, shall we?”

His eyes were blue. He couldn’t even tell the color of his eyes– oh my Irene he was done for.

About an hour later, an absolutely horrified Laurance walked out of the room, his eyes blown wide in horror, red veins visible as Dr. Castor gave him a pat on the back.

“You did very well, Laurance! I can’t wait to see you back here to pick up your glasses in a few weeks!”

He has to come back?!

Laurance awkwardly laughed loudly, backing away while giving finger guns to the man. “G-Great! Can’t wait!”

The brunette quickly turned around, his eyes landing on Cadenza who was waiting by the bench, waving. She stood up and put her new glasses case in her purse before approaching Laurance.

“Ah, Laurance! You’re finally done! How was it-”

Without a second thought, Laurance pulled her by the arm and quickly raced out the store. 

When the two made it to their car, Laurance had his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

“Laurance? What’s wrong?”

“Britney Spears. Chickens. Black Market. Crazy.” He panted out the words, taking long pauses between each one. He quickly raised his head, looking Cadenza dead in the eyes.

“I’m never going back there again.”

@lovelaurs, 2024. do not repost this work in any way!

[ejzah]

For @anonkp, who wanted a continuation of my previous story, “Shattered Beyond Repair”. (I originally said the companion fic was a different title, but that is incorrect).

***

We’ll Make it New

The past three weeks has been miserable. While Deeks had officially ended their relationship, he hadn’t left NCIS or LAPD. At least not yet. Apparently he’d handed in his resignation, but told both Bates and Hetty he would stay on until they found his replacement.

It was a unique kind of torture. Seeing Deeks every day made her chest ache with longing, yet she coveted every moment they had together. To make it a little easier on her, Sam and Callen had taken to splitting she and Deeks up more days than not.

Thankfully they’d refrained from making any comments so far. Small favors, she supposed.

Today, started out with a debrief in OPS as usual on a suspicious double murder. Instead of standing next to Kensi as he once did, Deeks took position near the back of the room. As though he was physically distancing himself as much as he was emotionally.

“What do you think, Deeks?” Callen asked after Nell and Eric had gone over all the current details. Everyone turned to face Deeks, unusually quiet these days, and he considered the question for a few seconds.

This new version of him was quieter, more serious, more prone to deliberation. Like so many things recently, she regretted ever wishing that Deeks would less talkative, less the jokester…less him. She regretted not appreciating what they had.

“I think it’s suspicious that Lt. Anderson knew both victims and just rolled back into town two days ago,” Deeks said eventually. And that was it.

“Ok, then Sam and Kensi you can go talk to the Lieutenant. Deeks and I will interview his immediate superior,” Callen decided.

***

“How you holding up?” Sam asked as they drove to the Lieutenant’s home.

“Barring my father’s death and the times I’ve thought Deeks was dead, these have been the worst weeks of my life,” Kensi answered truthfully. “And I know what you’re going to say: I told you so,” she added with an exhausted sigh.

“Actually, I wasn’t. I don’t take any pleasure in your or Deeks’ pain,” Sam replied. “I do think you have some considerations to make.”

“Like what?”

“Well, you two are clearly both miserable. Deeks wants out, you don’t. I’d say you need to figure out if there’s a way that you can make both of those happen while existing as a couple?”

“Well, if it were that easy, I wouldn’t be single or searching for a new home.” She didn’t mean to snap, but she was on edge and feeling judged.

“I never said it was easy.” Sam chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “Believe me, Michelle and I had this “conversation” more than once.” He smiled softly. “When Michelle got pregnant, it was a big surprise. She was the one who decided to resign from fieldwork, but we argued a lot about whether I should stay in or not. In the end, we decided that me staying would work.

“I wouldn’t say that I regret that decision, but I missed out on quite a few bedtimes, school events, and all over the years. Those are times I can’t get back. And I can’t get back the missed date nights with Michelle. Or the days when she had to be the only parent to our kids.”

“I’m getting mixed messages here,” Kensi said with mild annoyance.

“Sorry. Basically, if being an NCIS Special Agent is what does make you happy, then that’s fine. If not…maybe it’s time to reconsider,” Sam said. “Work will always be there, people won’t.”

***

Kensi found herself rethinking Sam’s advice for the next several days. Somehow, once he’d laid it all out for her, it did seem amazingly simple. She wasn’t happy or content, even if she didn’t find some amount of pleasure in her work. It all seemed dull and worthless without Deeks by her side.

Which is why four days after talking with Sam, she found herself walking up the cracked sidewalk to the address she’d convinced Nell to give her. She knocked on the door before she chickened out and waited, heart pounding.

When Deeks opened the door a few moment later, he blinked in apparent surprise at finding her on his doorstep.

“Kensi, what are you—?”

“I quit,” she blurted out before Deeks could even voice his entire question. Which was not what she’d planned on saying at all.

“You quit?” Deeks repeated slowly, shaking his head slowly. “As in…?”

“NCIS. As of this morning, I’m not an NCIS Special Agent.”

Deeks’ face lit up for the briefest of seconds before he sobered, his expression shifting to one of disbelief. “Why?”

“Because I want you,” Kensi said reaching for his hand. She didn’t let his lack of response dissuade her.

“That didn’t make a difference before. At least not enough of one,” he reminded her. Kensi dipped her head, acknowledging his comment with a short nod.

“Yeah, well, I had a talk with Sam and he gave me reconsider some things.”

“He’s pretty good at that,” Deeks murmured softly, with a hint of his usual humor.

“He is.” She lifted her head, tears pricking the back of her eyes, as she took a step closer. “And I really missed you. More than any position, or mission could ever make up for.”

“But Kensi, you love field work. You love everything about helping people, the intrigue, and danger of it all. I can’t live up to that.” Her heart ached at the quiet hope tinged with resignation in Deeks’ voice.

“Yes, you can,” Kensi insisted fiercely, grasping his hand and pressing it to her chest. “Because I love you. More than anything. I can find ways to help people and fulfill my inner daredevil that won’t put me in danger the way that fieldwork does.”

“Are you sure?” Deeks whispered, his thumb gently rubbing over the back of her hand.

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “Yes, I want to be with you.”

Deeks made a sound that was a cross between a gasp of relief and a sob, drawing her into his arms. Kensi cupped her hands around his jaw, almost desperate in her need to kiss him.

“I love you,” he whispered, burying his nose in her neck. She felt him shudder against her, and held him even tighter.

She’d come so close to losing this, him, forever. She’d never make that mistake again.

“I love you too,” she repeated. “So much.”

***

I hope that was alright.

Thanks for the prompt!

[francesca-sapphic]

a crushed leaf beneath your shoe, I crack & fragment, wither too but fallen sidewalk pavement glue wont fix, repair or soothe my gloom.

[lurafita]

Mundane meet cute au feat "magical bandaids"

Meet cute.

Mundane au

Cop character (Alec) spotting single parent character (Magnus) out in the middle of the night, trying to smear something into a crack on the sidewalk

Alec: "What are you doing?"

Magnus: "Okay, I know this looks incredibly suspicious, but my kid put a bandaid on the crack today and petted the ground and said 'Don’t worry, Sidewalk, the sparkly bandaids are magic, so you'll be okay.' It was desperately cute, I made a video and everything. But now I have to repair this stupid crack, less my precious child stops believing in the magic of the sparkly bandaids. But I'm not exactly a handyman and I think I mixed too much water into the concrete and it'sall just a mess."

So Alec helps.

unfortunately, Alec has no idea either about the right porportions of mixing cement. they could google it, but... well, Jace worked part time construction in college for some extra cash, and Alec has been waiting for a chance to pay him back for that time Jace woke Alec from restful sleep because he was drunk and didn't want to pay for a cab.

So while a sleep deprived and grumbly Jace fixes the side walk, Magnus shows Alec the video he took of Madzie putting the bandaid on the sidewalk. They exchange numbers, and the next morning, Alec gets another video about a happy Madzie smiling at the healed sidewalk due to the power of the sparkly magic bandaid.

[becameundone]

WHERE: busy street, anywhere with a lot of footfall WHEN: noon-ish (no specific date, just current) WHO: anyone! ( @anchoragestarters ) CAP: 4/4 (FULLY CAPPED)

Min wasn't trying to make a whole trip out of coming here. In fact, he'd only come to this part of town to pick something up for his cousin (who'd argued that, if Min was going to act like their car belonged to him, he might as well do something 'useful' with it) and he was quite intent on grabbing what he needed and getting back out just as quickly. As he strode out of the parking lot and rounded the corner onto the sidewalk, he removed the sunglasses he'd been wearing and moved to put them in his pocket; they were designer, a second-hand throwaway given to him by Tomo and maybe the most expensive accessory he owned. He used them for driving, mostly, because the glaring white of a cloudy morning sky tended to irritate his eyes. Min had always been a little clumsy, enough that he fumbled and dropped the glasses as he moved to put them in his pocket. Frantic eyes scanned the street, busy with people coming to and fro, headed for the various shops that lined the roads, their location not immediately obvious to him. When he did catch sight of them, it was just a moment too late.

"Wait a mi--" CRUNCH. That was the sound of the shades being crushed under the weight of another person's foot. Even from where he stood, he could see that the lens were cracked beyond repair and the frames had twisted and warped. He could swear he felt his organs deflate. "You stepped on them," said Min, his voice sounding miles away. And then, muttering to himself, he added "I mean, of course you did. What else was going to happen? Middle of a busy fucking street, my own bloody fault but---" He looked back at them, voice raised to a normal volume once more. He tried to laugh it off, not wanting to look too much like he was on the verge of losing it, but there was a discomfort behind the laughter that was difficult to ignore. "You just stepped on them?"

[scolbert22]

Slobby bear being controlled

Watch Fob Slob

Alek had meant well enough when it all started.

There was a sidewalk sale going on in the antique store below his apartment, and he was always looking for a new piece of furniture to brighten up his sad little studio, so he popped down. He had only just gotten to the bottom of the outdoor staircase connecting his door to the pavement below when he saw it glinting in a cardboard box marked "FREE". He reached into the box, curious.

When he withdrew his hand he saw he was holding a tiny medallion with a miniature painting of a lapdog on it. On the back, there was an inscription in a sturdy, archaic font:

OBEDIENCE

"That's a very unique piece," said a voice behind him.

Alek turned around to see Mrs. Lexington, the fiery little woman who ran the antique store.

"It is very beautiful, I love the little portrait!" Mrs. Lexington smiled, but there was a glint in her eyes he didn't recognize.

"Something tiny like that in a big old place like this is something special, only reveals itself to the person who ought to own it!"

"Do you know what it's purpose was?"

"It's a watch fob, kiddo! you attach it to a watch chain. And one like that is very unique indeed, the dog represents loyalty and obedience."

"Well, I don't own a watch with a chain, but..." Alek reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He plucked off a phone charm, some anime character his nephew had given him, and with some effort he attached the fob. "There!" He exclaimed cheerfully.

"You be careful with that, it's more responsibility than you know..." Mrs. Lexington said, her face deadly serious.

"Of course, Mrs. L. I would never lose something I got from your shop, how would I live it down?" Alek laughed. "Oh shoot, you know I forgot my wallet! Let me run back upstairs and I'll be right back down. You know I've had my eyes on that chaise lounge!" He was marching back up the wood stairs when he felt a sudden softness below his left foot and then a terrible snapping sound as his leg plunged through the rotten plank.

"AAAAHHH" Alek cried as he stumbled. Thankfully he was only on the third step, and pulled out his leg with a bit of effort. "This stupid staircase should have been repaired years ago, I could have been hurt!" he fumed. He took a photo with his phone and headed toward his landlord's house, a block away.

____________________________________________________________

Tony Marucci was sitting back in his easy chair watching March Madness when he heard the aggressive pounding on his door. He got up and waddled over to the door, pulling his basketball shorts up over the three inches of exposed, fur-lined ass crack. The giant man had been a college athlete himself once, 10 years ago. However, the multiple properties he inherited from his dad coupled with his natural laziness had slowly but surely the Italian Stallion into a lumbering bear. He opened the door and looked down at the angry little otter who lived in his property stood there with fire in his eyes.

"What can I do you for, Alex?" Tony asked easily leaning against the doorway on one arm. He flashed a hairy, unwashed pit and his wifebeater rode up. He scratched his fuzzy midriff and watched the poor little guy's resolve falter. Tony wasn't queer or nothin', but he always loved attention, especially if he could use it to shut up whiny tenants.

The yappy little dude ran a hand down his bearded face quickly and his anger had returned. "I just stepped through one of the rotten planks on my staircase, which I told you needed to be replaced! You need to get someone to fix those immediately or-"

"Listen Adam," The giant man bowled over the irritating little tirade. "All complaints must be put in writing and submitted via email, we've talked about this."

"I did that! Two months ago! And you ignored me! Now I have come in person to tell you if you don't get someone on it immediately I will withhold my rent, which I think you will find is within my rights in this city!" Tony didn't know if he wanted to punch the little dork or give him a noogie like he was an annoying little brother. He took in a deep breath and sighed.

"Do you have photographic evidence of the damage?"

The little dweeb practically jumped out of his skin getting his phone. "Yes indeed I do, I'd like you to take a look at these! I could have been killed! And Mrs. Lexington is my witness, these stairs need to..."

The yapping continued incessantly as tony looked down at the photo of the hole in the step. He rolled his eyes at the minor damage when something glinted just outside of his vision. What is that? He thought absently, his eyes following the dangling charm on his tenant's phone. So prettyyyy.... The charm twirled around and a word flashed across his eyes and burned deep into his brain:

OBEDIENCE

The slob's scruffy jaw went slack, falling open. A string of drool slowly spooled as the little man in front of him continued to emphatically prattle in his direction.

_____________________________________________________

"I bet I could get some of your other tenants together and start a strike, I'm sure you treat them just as neglectfully as you treat me, is that what you want Mr. Maru- ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME MISTER MARUCCI?" Alek was red in the face from his one-sided argument. when he finally looked at up at the landlord, the man was staring at nothing with his face and arms slack.

"listeninggggg" groaned the entranced bear.

"Wha- what are you doing?" Alek said, suddenly worried the handsome slob was having a stroke.

"Obeeedieeent" he crooned in reply, giggling dumbly.

Alek was confused for a second, and then remembered the word on the watch fob. "Are you...no, that's insane..." He regarded his landlord suspiciously. "Stand up straight."

The entranced goon in front of him immediately complied, his arms at his sides and his feet together. His jaw snapped shut, and he looked like a chubby toy soldier. Alek didn't know how to react, and he laughed frantically. He ushered his unwitting victim into his own house. I wonder what I can get away with, he thought to himself.

"Take off your shirt" He commanded imperiously. The bear complied, peeling off his sweaty wifebeater and revealing his hair peppered belly, chest, shoulders, and back. Alek reached out gingerly. He was scared of breaking the spell, but as he felt the warm, pliant flesh of his landlord's belly, the man simply leaned into his touch and hummed a single, needy note in the back of his throat.

"Do fifteen jumping jacks." The man instantly followed instructions, bouncing in time in a way that waws nearly hypnotic to Alek. His silky basketball shorts slowly migrated down his hips as he jumped, revealing that he was going commando, and that he had never heard of manscaping. Finally, with most of his pubes and half his ass hanging out, he stopped and stood up straight. "Behave normally."

Tony seemed to snap out of it with a snort, but he was still clearly fully absorbed by Alek. "Hey Alek! Don't worry about that staircase, I'll someone out there as soon as possible, I promise."

"In the meantime, I can stay here with you." Alek suggested.

"In the meantime, you can stay here with me!" Tony smiled, as if he'd come up with it.

"It could take a month for someone to get out there so I'll make myself at home." Alek smirked

"It could take a month for someone to get out there so please make yourself at home." Tony parroted hanging off his tenant's every word so much that they felt more like his true thoughts than his actual internal monologue.

"I can take your bed obviously, rent-free, and I can use your body however I see fit. You'll love whatever I do to you."

"You can take my bed obviously, rent-free, and you can use my body however you see fit. I'll love whatever you do to me" The mindfucked landlord grinned stupidly back.

"I'm so glad to hear it, Mr. Marucci, or should I say Tony" Alek grinned. Now why don't you show me to the bedroom, and you can show me just how sorry you are for breaching our contract?" In a flash, the giant bear was leading his new owner to his bed to start the beginning of his new life.

A life of Obedience