#you shake him awake and you swear the fuck was dead

[bitchapalooza]

Larry would sleep like a sick Victorian child

[thegnomelord]

I wonder what’s the aftermath of the gaz baby trapping fic?? 🤔🤭

Okay this got me into another hyperfixation so here's a super quick thing. NSFW, MDNI FTM Gaz/ cis male reader

One line.

Gaz's fingers shake as he stares at the pregnancy test in his white knuckled grip. Acrid disappointment burns at the back of his throat, sharp tears prickling the corners of his eyes as he lets out of a long breath. He shakes his head and tosses the damned test into the bin, trying not to think of it as he washes his hands.

He tries to make sure he doesn't look like it bothers him, but you're perceptive, "What's wrong?" falling from your lips the moment you see him, and shit, if that doesn't warm his heart.

"Nothing love." He eases your worries as he gets into bed in record time, huddling up next to you and feeling your arms wrap around him. "Just a bit under the weather. Rookie duty." You make a sound of understanding and pull him closer, laying gentle kisses on his lips and cheeks and anywhere you can reach until he's giggling against your lips.

"Good night." You mutter once you're satisfied and think you've lifted his mood. He stays awake after you've fallen asleep, simply staring at your slumbering face, your warmth seeping into his marrow.

He'd been so sure it would take, he'd ridden you until you were shooting blanks. But at the back of his mind he had thought this could happen, understand he had been sloppy, his chances lessened by you being injured and him having freshly come off the infertility drugs.

So he takes his time to do it with precision this time: Carefully timing his cycles and using fertility drugs, eating the foods old wives tales claim will boost the chances of him getting pregnant.

So he's confident when he seduces you into sex again on the one evening both of you are free; not that it takes much — simply meeting your gaze across the meeting room and licking his lips has your attention fully on him, a small nod of his head all it taking to have you follow after him.

His fingers claw into your back from how tightly he clutches you, heels digging into your flanks and hips gyrating to meet your thrusts as you pound into him. He's so loud you're sure you'll get complaints come morning, but right now you couldn't care less except to hear more of his moans and whimpers and cries as you fuck another load into him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes- oh love more!" He tries, sweet cunt clenching sinfully tight around you, drops of your cum leaking past your cock as his hole flutters around you. The position you have him in, legs over your shoulders and bent nearly in half, has your cock going to deep he swears you hit his diaphragm with every thrust, your heavy balls slapping against his ass.

He's happy he'd slipped you that aphrodisiac as you just continue to fuck him all night long, pumping his hole full of cum again and again until by the end of it he looks pregnant, both of you exhausted as hell and unable to do much other than fall asleep in a tangle of limbs.

You don't think nothing of it, just glad to be alive to be able to enjoy his love and affection. That is until you find him crying in the bathroom, and you hug him before you can think of anything else, just trying to comfort him and understand why he's sad, only for him to silently hand you a small white stick, burying his head into your neck to silence his sobs.

And you don't notice him smirking against your throat as you stare at the two lines on the pregnancy test.

Taglist: @dead-end-stuff

[louloulemons-posts]

Feral Boy

Eddie Munson X Reader

Summary : Just Eddie being his wonderful Munson self.

Word Count : 1.2k

Warnings : not proofread, cuteness, just eddie being a gross boy, kisses, swears, sexual innuendos, petnames (eddie calls reader baby/babe), just eddie being a cute goblin.

A/N : Guys! There’s now 800 of you! This is crazy, I can never thank you enough, I love you all so much 🤍

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Eddie was strange to say the least. He really didn’t care what people thought of him, he was weird and he loved that. You loved that. However, you genuinely thought his weirdness and his ‘fuck it’ mentality would be the death of him.

These are some of those situations where Eddie was just being his wonderful Munson self.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Eddie come on!” you whined, tugging on the boys arm. “No I wanna try!” he argued.

“How many times, those aren’t for you to eat, stop!”

You and your boyfriend had decided to walk through the woods, just wandering. However, Eddie had seen a plant that he thought looked delicious.

“Eds it could be poisonous!”

“But what if it isn’t?”

“But what if it is?”

“We’ll never know if we don’t try!” He pulled out of your hold and ran to the bush.

Popping one of the leaves in his mouth he chewed, his face slowly changing. “How is it?” you teased.

“Tastes like dirt.”

“Who would’ve thought.”

“Yeah yeah okay, you were right.”

“What was that?”

“Oh stop being smug,” he rolled his eyes, pulling you towards him.

The boy attempted to kiss your mouth, but you turned your face, lips brushing on your cheek. “Hey!” he whined.

“I don’t want to taste the plant!”

“You’re horrible to me.”

“Tell you what Munson, you buy me a shake and I’ll kiss you.” Eddie huffed a laugh, pulling you by the hand and through the woods. “Better be the best kiss ever!”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Lay on Eddies bed, you were resting your eyes, the day had been long and you were so ready to sleep. Waiting for your boyfriend to get out of the shower, you were lay half on the bed, your feet still on the ground.

You heard the door creak open, Eddies stomping footsteps moving across the room. You did once tell him he was bigfoots son.

“You comfy?”

“Mhm, it’s nice.”

“Baby,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Baby.”

“Eds what?”

“Baby.”

“Munson I swear to god,” you pushed up to be sat on the bed and looked at the boy. All of him, he threw his damp towel in your face.

Cackling to himself, he walked over, shaking his soaking curls all over you. “Eddie!” you squealed. You could feel his bare skin all over you, damp and sticky.

“Get off you big lump!” you couldn’t help but laugh as the boy rubbed his wet hair all over your face. “But it’s so comfy!”

“Jesus christ at least put some pants on!”

“What you don’t wanna see my-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll chop it off.”

“Fine fine,” giving you a wet kiss on your cheek he climbed off, giggling like a maniac.

“You are something else Edward Munson.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Sat with your knees to your chest, bowl resting on them, as you munched on your cereal. You heard thumping coming from the other room, Eddie was finally awake.

You had tried to wake him up multiple times, however when that boy slept he was dead to the world. He came hoping down the hall, tugging his shoes on.

Running past you, he halted came back, kissed your head and said “Love you.”

“Wait,” you said, pulling on his shirt.

“Babe I’m gonna be late.”

“Just hang on,” you laughed, placing your cereal on the coffee table and standing up.

“Arms out,” you said.

“What? Baby, now is not the time for a quickie.”

“Your shirts backwards Munson,” you smiled, pecking his mouth, “Arms out.”

He chuckled, pulling his arms into his shirt, allowing you to turn it round, before he slid his arms back in.

“There you go.”

“Okay now I need to go.”

“No you don’t,” you said.

“It’s 9:00.”

“It’s 8:30, I put the clock back thirty minutes. So sit, eat.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” you grinned.

“Maybe we do have time.”

“Time for what?”

The boy smirked, tugging you into his arms and throwing you over his shoulder. He took your cereal bowl in the other hand, drinking the milk before dropping it in the sink and running to the bedroom.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You were walking down the hall, you’d had a free period so decided to swap your books in your locker for your next class. You’d almost made it when someone put their arms around your waist and dragged you backwards.

You screamed as you were lifted from the ground, the door being kicked closed. You began swinging your legs when a familiar voice came, “Chill! Baby it’s me.”

Eddie let go of you putting you down, “You are such an arsehole!” you smacked him with each word. “It was funny baby you have to admit.”

“You gave me a heart attack! You horrible boy.” He pouted at that, putting his hands on your face gently, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no puppy eyes. You really scared me.”

“Please forgive me,” he said, kissing your cheek softly. “It was real mean Eds.”

“I know I’m sorry,” he kept pecking your cheek, even going to your neck.

“Eds,” you sighed.

“Forgive me,” he whispered.

“Horrible boy.”

“I know, but you love me.”

“I do.”

“Forgive me?”

“Of course.” You could feel his grin against your neck, “Don’t you dare.” It was too late, he blew a raspberry against your neck, leaving it covered with his saliva. “You’re so gross!”

“Oh am I?” he laughed, licking your cheek.

“Get off me you little goblin!” you squealed.

“Let me love you!”

“No!” you couldn’t help but laugh as you ran from him.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You were attempting to do homework, attempting being the key word here. It was near impossible to focus on something when Eddie was around, because of course he always wanted your attention.

You felt a light tug on your hair, “Stop,” you said. You felt his hand leave your hair, leaving you to read something in your text book and take notes, but soon enough another tug came. It was harder this time.

“Munson.”

“What?”

“Stop it.”

“‘m not doing anything.”

“Sure you aren’t.”

Another few minutes passed, then another tug, you slammed the book shut. “Okay I’ll bite you little demon, what do you want?” you turned to the boy, seeing him lay on the bed, smile on his lips.

“Cuddles.”

“I don’t think you deserve them honestly.”

“I do!” he whined.

“No.”

“Baby please, I just … I need some attention please,” he pouted.

“God it’s a good thing you’re cute.” A full grin broke out on his face as you put your textbook on the floor, laying down beside him.

“Can I have scritches please?” he whispered. You opened your arms and the boy moved quickly, one arm wrapping around your waist, face nuzzling into your neck, leaving soft kisses.

You hand tangled in his curls, gently scratching his head. The boy almost purred at the feeling, snuggling in closer. “I love you,” he said softly.

“I love you too silly boy.”

And it was true, although he was strange and weird and a freak or whatever else people called him, you loved him. More than anything.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

[oatmilkandcookies]

UNLESS (sanemi x f!reader) Pt 3.

MDNI, 18+ angst, swearing

Pt. 4 >

warnings: arrangedmarriage!au, angst/fluff, MANGA SPOILERS, abuse

nightmare (/ˈnʌɪtmɛː/)

a terrifying dream in which the dreamer experiences feelings of helplessness, extreme anxiety, sorrow, etc.

word count: 4k

Part Three (Newlyweds)

-

There was sobbing, and he can’t see anything. His hands felt sticky as he fumbled around to find his bearings. That voice…

“Sanemi…”

A person collapses into his hands, making him fall to his knees to cradle them.

“M-mom?”

It can’t be…there’s no way. She’s crying into his hands, and he can feel the sharp fangs and claws he had worked hard to supress in the trenches of his memory graze against his hands.

“Are you becoming your father Nemi?” she sniffled as she finally looked up, holding his gaze with her very human-looking eyes.

None of this was making any sense. His father… Sanemi winced as more memories resurfaced, the way his father would drag his mother by the hair and fling her across the room, raining angry punches on her shrinking figure. He remembers the bitter taste of his father’s fists when he had tried intervening before, and he remembers the twist in his gut when his father would threaten to hit the rest of his siblings if he ever stepped in between his parents again.

“I-If you turn into him…she will end up like I did,” his mother’s shaky voice pulls him out of his own head.

His eyes widened as the pieces clicked. No. No way. He swore to himself he would never let it happen again.

“She…She’ll become a demon?”

Why was his voice shaking? He watched, frozen as his mother sat up to face him, wiping her tear-stricken cheeks with a clawed hand. She shook her head as she grinned, all her razor-sharp teeth showing, stained dark red with the blood of his siblings. She grabs his hands, which he’s realising are also covered in someone’s blood, and he doesn’t know whose. He could see the tremors in his fingertips as she places his hands on both sides of her neck.

“She’ll die by your hands”

“No!”

A sickening crack echoes as her hands force his to twist.

-

Sanemi jolted awake, sitting up as his breathing heaved, cold sweat running down his back and chest. It was just a nightmare. A fucking horrible one, but it was just that and only that. He rubbed his face as he left his room, silently opening the door to the bedroom opposite his, and he couldn’t lie, he was relieved to see your sleeping figure, gently rising and falling with each soft breath. He leaned against the door frame as he recalled what happened a week ago.

Kamado Tanjiro had accused him of being an abusive husband, and it had made him see red. He didn’t care if people treated him like he was some brute, but the one thing he had sworn to never become, was the pathetic excuse of a man his father was. It took all the trainees, and a screeching Sorai cawing the news that Y/N had been found unconscious and had been admitted into the care of the Butterfly Estate, to stop him dead in his tracks.

He had sprinted as fast as the winds could carry him, and he was met with a sharp gazed Shinobu before he could burst into every room to find you. She had spoken in a very pointed tone as she revealed that you were beginning to show symptoms of malnourishment. She had also dropped that a diet of only birdseed and water, as well as sleeping outdoors was no way any spouse should be treated and it was a miracle you had survived that way for almost a month.

For the whole week you were unconscious, the sinking feeling of guilt only deepened the more he remained by your side, noticing how frail your figure had become, the way your cheeks were sunken and your wrists bony. He’d take naps in the spare bed next to yours whenever the tiredness of staying awake got to him, and when Obanai and Mitsuri came to visit, he would take their harsh words with his head down.

“You know she came from a mountain clan, right? How could you not know their history with women?” Obanai accused.

“I’m sure you didn’t mean it Sanemi! There’s no way you would treat her this way intentionally, right?”

“Nonsense, Oyakata-sama was very clear in his advice to him, Mitsuri. He has no excuse.”

Oyakata-sama’s advice. Why didn’t he remember it earlier? It felt confusing at the time, and he didn’t keep the words in mind, but it all made sense now that he’s piecing the pieces together.

“Speak clearly and have meals together.”

What the hell kind of marriage advice was that anyways? How was he supposed to know that the food you laid out each day was for him, let alone the fact that him not eating it meant that you wouldn't? Fuck, what kind of twisted upbringing did you have?

But Sanemi was never one to dwell in regret, so he swears to himself to dedicate his all to your recovery. By the time you were finally discharged, he had arranged for the Kakushi to deliver groceries daily and had requested for another week off.

Sanemi had been awkwardly looming around you as you went about your daily chores post-recovery and though there was a tiny weird tension between the two of you, you had learned to ignore it and enjoy his adorable attempt of company instead. The only few moments he would leave you alone were when he would be shuffling about in the kitchen while you were mending his uniforms in the living room, (and mysterious plates of ohagi would appear on the table in front of you after you wake up from your mid-sewing naps) or when you would take your evening sit in the backyard (and you can still hear his soft pacing as he waited for you to come back inside to the safety of your home). It was sweet that he was truly working on being a better husband for you.

It was during this week that he learnt about your past. He swears he didn’t mean to, but it was late, you were out in the backyard longer than you usually were and he’s never been a man of patience. He had slammed the sliding door open, and you squeaked as you dropped the wet cloth you were using to wipe your body to cover yourself with a towel. He was stunned into silence, the flash of bare skin and the sight of the gnarly scars that ran down your spine gone in a blink as your wide doe eyes turned to him.

Realising he was staring and had interrupted your bath, he could feel the heat rushing to his face as he averted his gaze and muttered an apology, scampering back indoors. He was dying inside from embarrassment. Gah, you probably think he’s a pervert now.

He slid down against the thin door, face in his hands as he tried to rub off the heat on his cheeks. He didn’t stay that way for long though, jumping back on his feet when he heard your soft knock, and your shy invite to join you in your evening sit. You’d open the door when there was no response to the sight of his back to you, but he’d let you slip your hand in his and he’d let you guide him back to sit outside.

You sat in a comfortable silence, staring at the moon, pretending you don’t feel his heavy gaze on you. Your hand was still in his, and he made no move to remove it as you absently traced your thumb along the large scar that ran across his knuckles.

“Yours aren’t that bad to be honest,” He finally spoke carefully.

“Oh?” Your eyes locked as you shifted to face him.

“These are from my demon turned mum after she murdered all my siblings,” he gestured casually to his face, pulling your hand to rest on his bare chest and the bigger scars that ran across it, “These when I had to kill her.”

And maybe this was a very subtle way of him showing off his muscles to you, so you indulged him by letting your fingers trace the scars along his chest, internally giggling at how he almost seemed to preen proudly under your touch. You’d look up at him, and the faint smirk on his handsome face made your gut swirl in some type of way.

“Mine’s Muzan. Grabbed my spine like it was a handle and he yeeted me,” you’d state so plainly, that it shocked him when he realised what you said.

“Oh shit, you win,” he’d choke a laugh, which made you playfully push his chest with an “It’s not a competition!”

“Yeah, yeah you just want a reason to keep touching me,” he scoffed as he rolled his eyes mirthfully, but his larger hand kept yours held to his chest, and you’d both sit in silence again as you feel his quick pulse, unaware of his fond gaze as you eyed his heart quizzically.

“Um…shujin?”

“Hm?” He’s too caught up in the moment to realise you were still addressing him like that.

“…Are you having…a heart attack?”

- -

Autumn nears as the heavy monsoons shift to rough gales, that have you pinning the laundry with extra clips (so you wouldn’t have another one of your panicked sheet chasing incidents). You could only pray you’ve bribed Sorai with enough fresh peas that he wouldn’t tell your husband about them.

You’ve moved in to the guest bedroom opposite Sanemi’s room, upon his insistence, and married life has been quaint for the both of you. Your husband had left for the regional patrol again, and he had given you strict instructions to keep yourself well fed while he was gone. He had arranged for the Kakushi to collect a grocery list from you each night and to deliver the fresh produce every morning. He’d warn you to keep all the doors and windows shut at night with a gentle pat to your hair, and your heart skips a beat when you thought he was leaning in to kiss your forehead, but he ends up reaching behind you to grab his coin pouch.

You’d giggle nervously because oh no if you had leaned in it would’ve been so embarrassing, and he’d smirk knowingly as you turned shy from how close you were standing together. You’d send him off with a wave, and immediately slumped at the thought of being alone again in the estate for the week.

The week flies by in a blur of chores to keep yourself busy, and today, you had chanced upon your blood stained haori from the well incident, shoved in a messy bundle in the dark corner of a random wardrobe. So you set it out to soak in a tub by said well itself as you continued your work on reviving the dried wisteria tendrils that line the walls of the estate.

A long afternoon of trimming all the dead vines had absolutely exhausted you and you had completely forgotten about your laundry. You were too excited at the possibility of your husband’s return that night, and may have prepared a slightly bigger dinner spread in the hopes of having his company to share it with.

But alas, you end up storing most of it when midnight came around and there were no signs of Sanemi. You were headed off to bed, and that was when you heard what sounded like…a large dog…lapping water…?

—-

There’s an odd stillness in some nights that leaves one’s senses heightened. The sharpened instinct of a held breath and darting eyes, an anticipation for a movement or sound to break the world from its sudden frozen state. Sanemi has learnt to associate these nights with the ones where demons prowl stealthily in their hunt for blood; so he keeps his footsteps quiet and his hand ready on his new blade.

He’s had a long week, and he hopes this next demon would be a quick kill on his way home. The dead air is broken by the sound of beating wings and the sight of his crow flapping towards him. His guard drops for a second but is immediately replaced with a sinking sense of déjà vu. His crow was coming from his estate. Sanemi pushes the wind beneath his feet, desperate to confirm that you were safe and soundly asleep, even though he knew the creeping stench of demon and human blood only got stronger as he neared his home. He jumps high, slashing through the roof with a reinforced slam of wind to land in the middle of your bedroom.

The demon was ugly, human features twisted into a giant mouth that was sucking desperately on a dripping blood tinted haori. Sanemi’s eyes widen at the sight of the broken half of his old blade, lodged into the side of the creature’s neck. Shit. He spares a quick glance to your quivering bloodied figure crumpled into the opposite corner of the room, sobbing face hidden and shaky hand wildly waving the other half of the katana in front of you in a desperate attempt to put some distance between you and the demon. Even though it had already taken a nasty bite out of your forearm, Sanemi couldn’t help the swell of pride in his chest knowing you had almost managed to kill a demon all on your own.

“It’s you, so you’re…him…” the demon slurred, four eyes swirling with delirium and sucking harder on the cloth stuffed in its mouth. Of course.

“Yes, it’s me,” Sanemi grins as he swiftly slashes the back of his hand with his blade, cackling when the effect of his ambrosial Marechi blood was immediate. Saliva pours like a fountain onto the wooden floor when the demon drops the haori in its mouth, stumbling drunkenly towards the source of the irresistible whiff it had been tracking for a month.

And as much as Sanemi would have loved to cut the demon into a thousand pieces and left it to burn a painful death through the rising sun, he settles for a merciful slice to its neck, ignoring its dying gurgles in its own spit to turn his attention to you. You. Fuck, you had passed out.

He’d gingerly remove the blade that had dug into your palm before picking you up to rush over to the Butterfly Estate (again).

——

Fortunately, you had fainted out of shock and not out of blood loss; a quick waft of a medicinal balm and bitter tea being poured into your mouth was enough to rouse you. The gnarly bite on your forearm and the cut on your palm had been swifty disinfected, stitched and bandaged by Shinobu herself. She’d sent you both off with a pouch of wisteria incense sticks to light around the estate.

In the following week after the ordeal, Sanemi would up his patrol rounds, the guilt of his negligence being the reason why you got attacked. You’d barely see your husband around the house but he catches you one night, when he was leaving just before the night was at its darkest.

He had slid his bedroom door open to find your sleeping figure slouched next to it, frowning as he wondered how many days had you been sleeping in this state before he noticed? Ugh, he’s an idiot. Of course you couldn’t sleep in your own room after what happened. Even though the roof had been patched and the interior of your room thoroughly cleaned, you were no member of the corps, and demon trauma wasn’t exactly something you could get over easily.

He picks you up and lays you gently on his bed, lighting one of the incense sticks in his room to soothe your sleep with its calming scent. He shuts the door to his room quietly, a small smile resting on him at the thought of you seeking comfort from him.

He strolls towards the forest near his estate, sword unsheathed as he nicked his wrist then stretching his hands over his head with a yawn. He scoffs as a rustle of movement clearly echoes throughout the silent night. Demons are so stupid.

Sanemi smells the rotting scent of it before it lands with a soft thud behind him. He takes a quick breath, pulling a gale with his sword as he shifts to quickly slice the head off the wretched creature, only to halt an inch before it pierces skin.

Human.

The girl before him was no demon, and the stench he had sniffed before had completely vanished. And though her head was bowed, her uniform was clear: she was a member of the Corps.

Sanemi felt a vein in his temple throb as he's miffed. How did some random girl manage to sneak up on him, a Hashira? He's really losing his A-game and he mentally beats himself up to be harsher on his personal training. There’re no chances to spare when it comes to staying in top condition while demons still roamed the earth.

"My name is Sumiko, great Wind Hashira. I wish to be your Tsuguko and undergo your training," she speaks in a sweet, wispy voice.

She looks up, and if he had not been stunned into how her eyes were the same colour as yours, he would've cut her off already.

"I am here with recommendation from the Love Hashira, who had deemed my ability to manipulate air particles and smells best be refined by the Wind-"

"No."

He stared as her eyes widened in shock at the immediate rejection, and felt irritation bubble as they squint in defiance. It fueled his need to stamp the flickering flame of hope in the young demon slayer.

"I am not looking for a Tsuguko, you can fuck off and tell Mitsuri the same," he scoffed.

He shifts to continue his patrol, pressing down the soles of his shoes onto the earthy forest floor before shooting off to run the rest of his route, leaving behind only a floating leaf and the girl still standing in a sudden daze.

-

Today's the day! Tengen and his wives had sent word that they wanted to visit the Wind Hashira's estate on the way to a famous hot spring nearby. Unbeknownst to both you and your husband, Shinobu had slipped him a crow message with a heavily implied threat if he didn't check in on you and how your husband was treating you.

You had seen the happy bunch in passing at the Ubuyashiki Mansion, only having spoken to the wives once when they were looking for something. And yet, they had treated you like an old friend when you greeted them welcome, immediately dragging you away into the kitchen as the husbands had small talk in the living room.

"Eek, so exciting right? I remember when we got married our newlywed vibes were sooo romantic!" Suma squeals as she admired your wedding ring.

"Suma! Behave yourself!" Makio smacks her hand away, "do you need help with anything?" she graciously...demands?

You politely refuse her, and the three beautiful women trailed behind you as you carried out a tray of onigiri, letting out delighted gasps as you served the group.

A tiny frown creases Hinatsuru's smooth features as you bow politely and retreat back into the kitchen, "Is Y/N not joining us for lunch?" She glanced at Tengen who in turn shoots a look at Sanemi.

"It's not what you're thinking you idiots. It's in her culture that she only eats after me," Sanemi rolls his eyes, picking two of the nicer looking onigiris onto his plate, saving the best one for you later.

"Sounds abit misogynistic," Makio mutters loud enough for Suma to nudge her which starts a small tiff between them until their husband stuffs the halves of a riceball in each of their mouths, making them flush as they chew silently.

Hinatsuru stares patiently till Sanemi sighs, "It's something about making sure the food's not poisoned and whether I decide it's good enough for her".

Suma lets out a sound that sounds similar to an 'awwww' with her mouth full while Makio huffs disgruntledly.

"How's the new intern?" Tengen expertly swerves the conversation topic, his wives letting out an internal sigh of relief as the Wind Hashira gets carried away ranting about Mitsuri and the Demon Slayer Corps.

The quadruple watch as Sanemi gets up, their eyes lingering as he grumbles his way into the kitchen. They hear him pause as he gently sets his plate on the counter, a small grunt of acknowledgement for you to eat before he heads back towards them, immediately picking up where he left off with his rant.

The wives take it as their cue to slip their way back into the kitchen, leaving the husbands to themselves again.

-

"He's such a tsundere," Hinatsuru giggles as you obliviously dig in.

"And he saved the best piece for you too, how romantic," Suma adds with a wiggle of her shoulders.

"So kind, so generous," Makio rolls her eyes, pausing as she catches the look of mischief in Suma's eyes, a small smirk forming on her own face as they both slink nearer to you like Siamese cats.

"How generous is he?" Suma asks, seemingly innocently.

You pause mid-chew to think. Generous? He'd saved your life twice. The infamous ohagis he makes only for himself, yet he shares with you. He'd eaten your cooking everyday since your malnutrition stunt, and he'd save a portion for you neatly, unlike your father who would consider you lucky to get to pluck the rice grains off the floorboards.

He let you sleep in not just his room but his bed, for Kami's sake. You had tried to protest the first time he offered to sleep on the floor instead but he had just turned his back to you pointedly. And you would never tell, but you knew he tucks the blanket back over your shoulders when he gets home just before the sunrise, pats your hair gently before he settles on the ground beside you, joints cracking with a grumble.

Makio lets out a groan as you hum in contemplation, "Is he generous in bed, Y/N?"

...In bed? He gave you his entire bed for Kami's sake, how much more generous can he get? You feel a blush forming as you remember that on colder nights you'd wake up the next morning tucked into his warm side, big arms engulfing you in a comfy hug that has you secretly snuggling. You'd pretend to stay asleep until you feel him tense, the telltale sign Sanemi's awake. It's impressive really, how he'd manage to slowly shift till you're gently laid back in his bed without you feeling a thing until your head hits the pillow. He must be the stealthiest Hashira.

"Um...very..." you finally reply, almost feeling...shy, the three wives began squealing excitedly which made your cheeks grow a few shades darker, Suma gasping as she smacks Makio's arm repeatedly.

You put your hands on your cheeks to cool them down, why were they being so excited? For some reason it felt like you were embarrassed but you don't know why exactly.

You get up as you realised that the dining table hadn't been cleared yet, and you quickly excuse yourself from the ladies. You bow slightly as you collect the plates from the table, not listening to the conversation of the Hashiras. As you turn to carry the pile of dishes, Tengen's loud voice booms,

"This one can really cook! You got yourself a good one, Shinazugawa."

Time stops as he lands a hefty smack on the middle of your back with his wide palm. You tense with a gasp, plates falling to the ground and shattering. Your feet puddle beneath you as you collapse forward, shards of porcelain digging into your palms.

The ensuing chaos is a ring in your ears as your breathing heaves into a panic attack.

----

A/N: A NICE COLD LEMONADE bc i deserve to eat whole lemons for making yall wait this long...

i've had alot of major life changes since the last update (dad died on my brother's bday rip, unemployed twice, back in uni) and i've only recently come back to writing as my escape from reality. (dont worry im fine now, i think)

i rly thank you guys so much esp those who've been here from the start (2 years ago wtf) i cant express how much i appreciate yall sm ya guys are literally the sweetest T.T

i'm following the taglist that i have saved in my notes app from ages ago so if any of yall got new users do lmk!! lord knows that thing needs an update fr

hope this one's worth the wait, i'm looking forward to yall reading it <3

hint for the plot? gotta keep an eye out for selener (Sumiko)

taglist:

@sunaswife @mac-the-oregonian @noelledleapier @therulerofanime @calamitykor @screeeechqueen @a-single-pizza @multilingual-birb @settingmyheartablaze @stressed-lala @behaktaylorgriggs @galaxyfruits @abbylouamanda @dreamsholdpowers

[solarmorrigan]

Requested by @westifer-dead (I think?? I hope that was directed at me)

This probably wasn't what you had in mind, but in my defense, it absolutely was not what I planned on writing. It sorta snuck up on me. I hope this is okay, though <3

🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation

Prompt from this post

Tags/CW: transmasc Steve, fairly explicit depiction of menstruation, resulting mentions of blood, mentions of dysphoria, Steve's internal dialogue is rather unkind to himself in this one (soft ending, though??)

-

Steve’s first, horrified thought when he wakes feeling an uncomfortable amount of damp sticking his boxers to his skin is that he’s somehow managed to piss the bed.

The immediate wakefulness caused by that thought, however, is enough to give him a second one – particularly when he feels the ache low in his gut and spreading down his hips as he rolls over to toss the covers back and reveal the red stain on both his underwear and the sheets.

Fuck.

He’s early.

His period shouldn’t have been along for another couple of days, at least, and Steve hadn’t even thought about putting on a pad before getting into bed—he glances at the clock—two hours ago.

“Motherfucker,” Steve hisses.

He’d gotten home from the world’s most frustrating late shift sometime after midnight and had actually managed to get to sleep by one, and now his body is pulling this shit on him – waking him with pain and mess at three in the goddamn morning, days before it had any right to. And now his boxers are probably toast, and the sheets might be salvageable but he’s going to have to get up and change them right now, and he’s so fucking tired, and it’s three in the morning, and when he shifts to sit up, he’s caught for a moment by the sticky-slick feeling of blood drying against his skin.

He does his best to swallow back the feeling of nausea that creeps up on him at the sensation,  but it’s something he hasn’t had the stomach for since being covered in Eddie’s blood after hauling him out of the Upside Down, and the cramps really aren’t helping.

It’s for all these reasons that he’s probably less gentle than he could be when he reaches over to shake Eddie awake.

“Eddie, wake up.”

Eddie groans and rolls over, curling up with his back to Steve.

Steve huffs and gives him a shove. “Eddie.”

“S’early,” Eddie grumbles. “G’way.”

Normally, Steve doesn’t mind Eddie’s steadfast refusal to wake up for anything less than three alarms and the promise of coffee. Sometimes he even has fun with it, seeing how quickly he can rouse Eddie with other sorts of promises. Right now, though, he has less than no patience, and he grabs his pillow and whacks Eddie in the side with it.

“Wake up!”

“Whatthefuck,” Eddie gasps, bolting upright and glancing around the room for his assailant.

Later, Steve might feel bad; for now, he only drawls, “You awake now?”

“Did you hit me with a pillow?” Eddie demands, eyeing the weapon in Steve’s hands.

“You wouldn’t wake up,” Steve says. “I need you to get up for a minute.”

“What? Why, what’s– oh.” Eddie much catch sight of the mess as Steve twists to shove the pillow back behind himself. “Shit.”

Steve’s face heats with embarrassment. “Shut up,” he snaps. “Just get out of the bed.”

Clumsily, Eddie moves to obey. “I didn’t mean–”

“It’s– never mind, I shouldn’t have snapped, sorry, just–” Steve sighs. “Just let me change the sheets.

He strips the comforter from the bed and rolls it up to toss it into the chair in the corner of the room to be put back on when he’s done, but he doesn’t make it much farther before his body betrays him with another wave of squeezing cramps and a dribble of blood sliding down the inside of his thigh from under the loose leg of his boxers.

He swears and lunges for the tissue box on his bedside table to catch the drip before it can hit the floor, and he can hear Eddie hiss a breath in through his teeth – it’s probably in sympathy, Steve recognizes distantly, but in the moment he still feels like he might die of shame.

“Let me– let me get cleaned up. Just a minute,” Steve mutters, balling the tissue up in his fist and making for the dresser. “Then I’ll finish with the sheets.”

“Why don’t you go take a quick shower?” Eddie suggests quietly. “I can finish the sheets.”

Yanking a pair of briefs out of the dresser, Steve slams the drawer shut. “I can clean up my own damn mess, Eddie.”

“I know you can, but you don’t have to,” Eddie says, much more patiently than Steve probably deserves. “I’m betting you’ll feel ten times better if you get the chance to rinse off, so go ahead. You know how much I love wrestling with the fitted sheet.”

Steve should probably say no. It’s stupid to make Eddie clean up after him when he’s perfectly capable of doing it himself.

He should say no, but he doesn’t want to.

He glances back at Eddie, who looks nothing but sincere in his offer, and nods. “Thanks,” he mumbles, and Eddie gives him a little smile and a nod in return.

In the bathroom, Steve makes the water as hot as he can stand it and pops two Advil before stripping and shoving his boxers straight into the trash. If he tried hard enough, he might be able to get the stain out, but he doesn’t have the mental fortitude to contemplate doing that right now. His t-shirt has been spared any blood, but he puts it in the hamper to be washed, anyway. It just feels dirty now.

There are some months where Steve’s period comes and goes without any fuss; it’s an inconvenience and a bit of a drain, but hardly worth comment. Then there are some months that shove Steve headfirst into ten different stages of dysphoria and various neuroses for no apparent reason.

This one feels like it’s going to be the latter.

Even once he’s standing under the shower spray, the blood already sluiced down the drain, Steve doesn’t feel like he’s ever going to be clean again. He knows it’s his shitty brain lying to him, he knows that the feeling will go away in a few days—a week, at most—but that doesn’t help him now.

He wastes an extra ten minutes in the shower, trying to convince himself he’s only staying in because the hot water is helping his cramps (only partially true; he’s so tense that they haven’t really abated, and in fact have crawled up his sides now, seizing on the scar tissue from his bat bites and yanking his whole abdomen in tight, but he’s hoping it will help with his cramps), but he does eventually manage to force himself out and dry off.

With the fuck-off-biggest pad he owns shoved into his underwear, Steve heads back to the bedroom and stops short inside the door.

The lights are still dim, and Eddie is waiting up for him, sitting against the pillows with his book. He’s not only changed the sheets and fixed the comforter, but he’s laid out a pair of pajamas for Steve – the exact pair he prefers when he’s having a particularly bad day. And for some reason, that’s it for Steve.

The tears hit before he can even try to choke them off, and Eddie must not be very immersed in his book, because the first ragged breath is enough to alert him to the fact that something is wrong.

He looks almost wounded when he catches sight of Steve standing in the doorway like a weepy idiot, and Steve would feel bad, but Eddie’s already up and out of the bed and coming towards Steve with his arms open in offering.

And with anyone else, Steve would shy away; this isn’t a part of him that anyone needs to see, this weakness and inability to cope. But from Eddie– even as stupid as Steve feels right now, he knows he doesn’t have much that he needs to hide from a man who will help him clean up his own blood and then offer to hold him while he cries about it.

He accepts the hug, allows himself to be led back over to the bed and sat down, and then lets himself be held.

Eddie presses his lips to Steve’s forehead and then swipes his thumbs over Steve’s cheeks, wiping away whatever tears fall and kissing him there, too, like he can replace the evidence of his distress with love.

And hell, maybe he can.

In a while, Steve will want to get dressed and they’ll both need some actual rest, but for now, Steve thinks he’s more than willing to sit and let Eddie try.

[simpforboys]

stay quiet - 2

rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: you and rafe escape from singh’s

warnings: smut!! fingering, fluff moments, violent, angst (?), swearing, kidnapping, mention of murder

find part one here

the sun peeking through the windows was enough to make you groan, rolling over into the naked man next to you.

your legs hurt from last nights activities, body tired as you hummed against the warm chest.

maybe it was the memory, you and rafe waking up together in tannyhill.

but the realization that you were in fact not in tannyhill and rather kidnapped by carlos signh made you snap awake.

“rafe, wake up.” you mumbled, shaking the sleeping man awake.

he groaned, shifting slightly.

you moved to sit up, eyes readjusting to the suite you and rafe shared.

checking the clock, it read 11:24am. you had just about four hours to tell signh where the diary was or you would die.

“rafe, baby, c’mon.”

you got out of bed, grabbing your… washed clothes?

the cropped shorts and tank top you had worn on poguelandia was now washed and waiting for you on the dresser.

you quickly changed into them, releasing a deep breath as you glanced at rafe.

you began knocking on the door, causing the man to jolt awake.

“tried to wake you,” you shrugged.

“what-“

“i have to talk to mr. singh!” you shouted from the door, hearing rafe rushing to put some clothes on.

the guard opened the door, cautiously eying you. he looked up to see rafe buckling his pants, his upper body still naked.

“don’t think we didn’t hear your reunion last night. don’t let it happen again.”

rafe couldn’t help but smirk at the guard as you rolled your eyes, pushing past him.

“mr. singh!”

you called out, seeing the man eating fruit at the dining table.

“good morning, miss l/n, or should i say mrs. cameron?” he joked.

“i don’t know where the original diary is. but i do know where there is a copy.”

mr. singh raised his eyebrows at you in suspicion.

as you were beginning to tell singh, a phone call caused him to groan. he answered it angrily, causing you to look at rafe. the man only shrugged at you.

singh's lips curled into a smirk.

"yes of course, portis. i'll meet you there in ten minutes."

your face fell from the name. portis, the man who had took you to barbados from poguelandia.

"i have some business to attend to. sounds like your friends, y/n."

"portis found them?" you asked in shock, moving to get up but rafe pulled you back down.

"portis is dead. i shot him last night while you two had your own little... homecoming."

your face fell as mr. singh got up.

"please don't hurt them." you choked out, eyes filled with tears as you imagined the worst.

singh didn't respond as he left out the door. the guards escorted you and rafe back into your room.

"rafe-" your heart was pounding as you were in full panic mode, not wanting to lose any of your friends.

"shhhh, stay with me, y/n."

he pulled you into his chest as you tried to calm down, but the attack you were feeling wasn't going away.

rafe brought his voice down into a whisper.

"i need you here with me, baby. this is our only chance in getting outta here, alright? i need your head here."

you sucked in deep breaths, nodding your head at you stared at your lover.

"i have a plan, okay?"

you nodded, still trying to relax yourself enough to escape the hotel.

rafe's plan sounded absolutely absurd, but in the moment you would do anything to get out and help your friends.

"oh, rafe! fuck! right there!" you screamed out, banging your hand against the shower to make the illusion that you two were fucking.

rafe stood behind the door of the shower, ready to attack as he moaned back loudly.

the suite door opened, your hands shaking from the risky situation.

"yessssss! so good!" you yelled.

"i told you two not-"

just as the guard opened the door to the bathroom, rafe jumped out and punched the man to the floor. he fell with a flood as you jumped out of the shower, watching as rafe continued to beat the man until he fell unconscious.

and it suddenly hit you how you put your life in rafe's hands, unconsciously knowing he could end it at any minute if he truly wanted to.

but you didn't have time to react as he grabbed your hand, gun in the other, carefully guiding you out into the dining room you sat at moments ago.

rafe cleared the corners with the gun as you quietly searched around for safe door. "rafe."

you whispered, nodding your head to one that lead directly onto the side of the house. there was a bit of a drop off, making you question if that why it wasn't armed.

rafe slowly pushed the door open, ready to shoot at any danger. he grabbed your hand once again, heart stammering in his chest as he breathed in and out. was it really that easy?

"alright, ready?" he whispered to you, looking around the corners to make sure the pathway was clear. you nodded, holding onto his big bicep in fear.

with that, he took off into the brush that surrounded the hotel as you followed.

your chest began to hurt with how far you had ran, exhaustion overcoming your body as you panted.

a hay-filled truck made its way slowly down a paved road as you jumped onto the back, accidentally banging your knee into the gate.

"ow, fuck." you mumbled as rafe jumped on behind you, both of your faces dropping as a man sat in the back. without having time to react, rafe hopped over the gate and began punching the man.

"rafe-" you called out, your chest rising and falling quickly as he suddenly pushed the man off the truck.

your jaw dropped, feeling rafe help you over the gate. but you were too shocked to react.

"what the fuck?" you whispered.

"he'll be fine. i had to do it, y/n."

you slowly nodded, sitting down and finally resting. your back laid against the tarp as rafe sat next to you, his hand rubbing up and down your thigh. the motion caused chills to run down your entire body, knowing what those hands had done.

his knuckles showed the evidence, purple and bruising with blood seeping up.

"you're bleeding." you pointed out, noticing the way he clenched his fist against you.

"i'll be okay, pretty girl."

he turned his hand over, holding yours gently. the way his touch was so soft almost made you forget how dangerous he was, and ultimately you knew this was a huge risk.

but sometimes, risks are worth it.

"they're probably going to have someone check the back- we need to be hidden."

rafe nodded in agreement, picking up the tarp and helping you slide underneath. he quickly followed, making sure everything looked natural.

"i can't believe we escaped one of the scariest men ever," you whispered.

rafe's lips twisted into a small grin, wrapping his arm around you protectively.

"i'm just glad i got my girl back."

"your girl, hmm?" you whispered, cuddling into his side.

"always been my girl, y/n. always will be."

you felt his touch against your thigh, the tips of his fingers feeling like hot taps.

"rafe..." you mewled out, biting your lip.

"horny again, mama?" rafe couldn't help but smirk. you were always so needy, so desperate for him.

"we shouldn't."

"let me take care of you, but you really gotta be quiet, okay?"

you nodded as you felt his big hand reach down into your pants, his finger circling your clit before inserting itself inside of you.

you gasped out, your body tightly against his as he held you close to him with one arm. "shhhhhh."

he curled his fingers inside of you, using his free hand to cover your mouth as you panted against him.

rafe loved how much of a fucking slut you were. always ready and eager to take him, no matter where or what you were doing.

"good girl," he praised. his thumb continued to circle your clit as he fucked his fingers into your faster.

you were gently rolling your hips against him, trying not the cause the tarp to move too much. rafe was pressing kisses against your temple, the sound of hay rustling overpowered the noise of your wetness.

the risk of getting caught at any moment had your adrenaline pumping, your stomach tightening as you pushed rafe's white button up shirt up towards his stomach. you ran your hands down his abs, your fingernails leaving marks as he whimpered.

you bit down onto his bicep as you both felt the truck come to a halt. both your hearts were pounding, but rafe made no signs of stopping until you came over his fingers.

"we're just heading to the ports." the driver said, his voice muffled from the tarp.

"stay fucking quiet." rafe whispered harshly in your ear, his hand covering your mouth again.

your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, stars filling your vision. you could be exposed at literally any second, but rafe only made sure you got to come.

your pussy clenched against rafe's fingers as you came, legs shaking as you tried to keep your body from rolling. rafe pulled you tighter, his breathing short as the men continued to talk outside.

"anything in the back?" a man asked.

"just some hay."

it was silent for a moment until you were cleared to proceed. your body was sweating from the heat underneath the tarp, your orgasm making it worse. rafe was smirking to himself as he licked his fingers clean.

you gently pulled the tarp off your heads, breathing in the fresh air.

"holy fuck," you panted.

rafe pressed his lips to yours, both of you laughing into the kiss as seagulls flew around you.

"let's get the fuck off this island, yeah?" rafe grinned.

the smell of salt water filled your nostrils as the wind blew your hair. you jumped off the truck, rafe following you as you ran down the port and onto the dock.

"that's yours?" you asked, watching rafe hop on a yacht as he began to untie it.

"been with them damn pogues for too long, you forgot luxury, baby."

the pogues, your friends.

your stomach suddenly twisted at the thought of leaving without them.

"rafe."

your serious tone made him look up at you, his eyebrows scrunched as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. the hot sun beat down on you two.

"i can't leave them."

your voice cracked as your mood switch. rafe's reaction made you nervous, not knowing what he was going to do.

"i'm not letting them on this damn boat, y/n."

"then i guess i'm not coming with you."

rafe ran a hand down his face as your heart pounded.

"get on the fucking boat, y/n."

"i-i can't. not without them."

your lip quivered as rafe approached you, his hand coming to rest on your jaw, giving you flashbacks to last night at the suite in singh's.

a tear rolled down your cheek as you sniffled, hating yourself for getting emotional. it seemed to be as rafe was fighting an internal battle.

"they're trying to save me as we speak, rafe. how would they feel if i just left them to die?"

"why do you have to be a good person?" rafe's question was rhetorical as he sighed.

"they're not going to get on a ship with me, y/n."

"then let me call them and tell them to get the hell off the island."

rafe stared down at you, unsure of what to do. but the desperate look in your eyes made his guard break, and he despised himself for being so whipped for you.

"there's a phone on the boat."

you kissed his cheek, running up to the helm as you dialed john b's phone number.

the phone rang for a bit before it went to voice mail.

"fuck! rafe, what was the number that called singh?"

you looked at the man as he finished untying the boat, now joining you on the top deck of the boat.

"you expect me to remember that shit?"

"it was like four two seven," you racked your brain for anything that seemed like a phone number.

"four two seven, six eight three." rafe remembered some more digits.

"four two seven, six eight three, nine one zero two!" you grinned as you remembered, dialing the number into the phone.

"hello singh." you heard jj's voice as he pretended to be portis.

"jj!" you said, hearing him gasp as he called the pogues around the phone.

"y/n?! are you okay?" they questioned you as rafe began guiding the boat out of the dock.

"listen, i'm okay, but i need you guys to find a way off the island."

"y/n? are you safe?"

"i'm safe. listen, get off the island, i'll meet you back at kildare!"

their voices began to break up before the line ended and you were left with rafe.

you sat down on rafe's lap as he sat at the helm. his hand rubbed your back, the feeling giving him deja vu to when you would join him and his family out on their yacht.

"we did it, baby."

you didn't respond, just holding onto his neck as you cuddled into him, a guilty feeling residing in yourself.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

PLEASE HEAR ME OUT….. okay fainting while rehearsing with tokio hotel

basically the reader has been lacking sleep and is over working herself and when the band were rehearsing she fainted

(Hello! Sure I can! Enjoy!) Taglist

Fainting with Tokio Hotel

Obviously, everyone is concerned for you

You seemed fine for a moment, then, BAM

you were down for the count

It happened so fast everyone couldn't react as quickly as they would have

Gustav was standing closest to you, and somehow managed to catch you before you fell and hit your head and died

He was freaked and almost actually let you go, but was smart enough to sit down with your head in his lap

Bill noticed quickly yelling in surprise before he rushed over to help

He dropped his mic, just as Tom noticed and came to help, tripping on it and almost dragging Georg down with him

Everyone was stumbling over to you, everyone almost dying in the process as hands backstage and they all came running

They're your closest friends, so obviously they're all concerned

Bill is yelling for someone to get a medic at least, and Tom is almost shaking you to wake you up

"(Name)! I swear, don't be fucking dead!"

"Stop shaking them!"

"It'll wake them up!"

"No, it won't! It'll give them shaken baby syndrome!"

"What the hell is that?!"

"It's where if you shake a baby they'll be messed up in the head!"

"...oh, shit!"

Georg and Tom don't know what to do that's their whole conversation, making absolutely no sense at goddamn all

Gustav and Bill are the only ones actually helping, making sure your head is okay and answering the medics questions

But Georg and Tom help eventually, letting nobody else carry you except the two of them because they wanted to make sure you were okay

They somehow got you to the dressing room, laying you on the couch

Somehow a story was pieces together from the medic

You were extremely tired, malnourished as he noticed as well

It finally clicked for the guys as they had barely seen you even sleep, drink or eat in the past few days

Bill noticed when it started, telling you it's okay and to stop overworking yourself

Tom was the one to make you eat, giving you food and watching you eat, even if it was something small hen he would let you work on whatever you wanted

Gustav was worried for your health, seeing how tired and stressed you were as he offered to help take a load of your shoulders, but you refused

Georg was one to stay out your way, but had to step in and take your stuff, making you get at least a little sleep before it all

But it all seemed worthless now as you laid passed out on the couch

Tired, hungry and overworked

They all felt bad for you, as a friend they all felt guilty and like they failed

The second you woke up they were all over you again

Hounding you in mixed scoldings and relief that you were okay

Bill was letting you know to never do that again and that you worried them

Tom was just glad you were awake, saying stuff to not do that again

Georg was the one telling you that you scared the shit out of everyone

While Gustav was making sure you were okay, and telling you to stop overworking yourself again

They all felt guilty and then suddenly had a little agreement to stop this from happening

From then on, they made sure you ate, slept and drank at least something

It may seem a bit drastic and weird, but they're your closest friends

And they would feel like shit if this happened again

So mark their words, they have the best intentions, and a way to have this never happen again

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@billsjum6ie @bigbootahjudy @dead-tapes @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @kiwitsune @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @billybabeskaulitz @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0

[ddejavvu]

i’m dead. i went to request something, got distracted on my dash then took a nap😭

but anyway now that i’m awake could i request either tasm!peter or even like spider-man!james with like a shy reader who is needy and horny af but too shy to make a move or ask but they sense it with spidey senses?

p sure the way that i wrote this is not how spidey senses work but it's hot so just drop it

this post is 18+, minors dni.

There is something lethal about the combination of Peter's veiny, long fingers, and his thick black glasses frames. His jaw is wired tight with annoyance as he tinkers with his stubbornly broken web shooter, and the sharp angle only adds to your slowly building arousal.

He tries wrenching a slightly singed piece out of place, catching its jagged edge on the soft pad of his finger and swearing, "Fuck!"

That doesn't help your case.

You draw in a sharp breath and Peter catches it in frustrated abandonment of his concentration. Once his project has forsaken him you're the only thing left to focus on, and clarity slams into him with force that almost rattles his teeth.

His nerves crackle and fizz with warning, arm hair standing on end as goosebumps pimple and pucker his flesh with pricks of pain. He glances at you, sees your blown-out gaze focused on him, as well as the subtle clench of your thighs.

You want him.

"Hey," He breathes, voice coming easier now rather than the harsh bite of his cursing, "You okay over there, babe?'

"Mm-hmm," You nod, and if Peter didn't have a deeper perception for sensation than most, he'd have believed you. But his senses are screaming, rushing through him like turbulent waves on a rocky beach, grating against his nerves and telling him you want him. You need him.

"Don't lie," Peter grins wryly, "I can tell."

You don't answer; not a further lie, but not a retraction of your previous one, either.

"My body tells me, y'know." He muses, slowly standing from his place at the desk and stepping- almost stalking over to where you sit tensely on his bed, "It tells me that yours is on fire. That you need me to touch you. Here," He reaches down, thumbing at the edge of your plush inner thigh with a gentle touch, "Is that where you want me, sweetheart?"

You nod vigorously, but Peter catches your chin, scooping your lips into a brief, but firm kiss.

"Tell me." He prompts, which you think is awfully cruel considering he's just told you he knows exactly what you want and need, "Tell me where you want me, baby."

You reach for Peter's hand, and he lets you guide it to rest in the skinny divot you've created by spreading your thighs slightly. It's just barely big enough for him to slip his hand into, but he thumbs down your slit over your panties with a nimble touch.

"Here?" He confirms, and his response is a shiver that runs down your spine and shakes you like a leaf on the bed.

"Okay, baby," He concedes, the teasing flame he'd goaded you with snuffed out by your helpless desire, "I'll touch you here. Lay down," He croons, helping you recline over his mattress and plumping the pillow beneath your head, "Just relax, okay? I know what you need, baby, let me help you."

[two-white-butterflies]

bigger than the whole sky | d. targaryen

Description: The oldest child of Alicent and Viserys is bethrothed to their uncle. Once the dance begins, you become a glorified hostage. Warning: 18+ [angst, suggestive themes, stilbirth] Author's Note: Inspired by @lamemaster 's 'the Curse of Bloodlines'

It was the ninth month of your improper imprisonment. By then, the swell of your stomach was big enough to be noticed.

Daemon refuses to visit you; swearing that it was treason. The war started, and your husband's love for you disappeared.

You couldn't blame him - your own brother took the life of your son.

"Can you give this letter to Prince Daemon?" you smile painfully, knowing that he'd never reply. "Yes, my princess." the handmaiden bows - taking the letter away from your hands.

You wonder if your husband thinks about you at all.

If he thinks about the babe inside your belly, and how his son grows strong inside of you; or was he too preoccupied with killing your siblings and their children?

A sigh escapes your mouth, and you settle your hand on your stomach. Will his love return once the babe is born?

Daemon freezes at the sight of the letter.

He's been ignoring them - not even bothering to read or browse through your meticulous handwriting. The pain in his heart was too great to ignore. His boy - his heir was murdered. He knows that he couldn't blame you for the happenstance, but Rhaenyra does.

Now that all of her sons were dead - she was relying on the babe inside your belly to be her heir. Not because she loved you - but because her uncle's blood ran thick through its veins.

"The Hightowers are weakened, we must attack Kingslanding soon." he settled his hand on the table, placing the letter on his pocket and reminding himself to lock it in his drawer. "- with our dragons if necessary," he added, mind moving unto you.

He wonders what you were doing.

He wonders if the bulge in your stomach was big or small.

If you were healthy or in pain.

He blinks a few times. He shouldn't be thinking about you.

A pained groan escapes your mouth - feeling the chill of the winter air flow inside your room.

"Delancey," you call out to your handmaiden. She bolts awake - standing up from the sofa that she was sleeping on. "Close the windows, please." you pleaded - not wanting to open your eyes.

"I'm cold," you shiver, pulling the blanket closer to your chest.

"I-I closed it before we slept, my lady." the handmaiden replied, stuttering as she looks at your pale figure. She wouldn't assumed that you passed in the night - due to your pale physique, but she knew that you were alive - because of the slow rising of your chest.

"Why is it cold?" you mumble, feeling tired.

She walks cautiously towards your bed, lifting the sheets slowly - presumably replacing them with something heavier and warmer.

"My lady y-you're bleeding," the girl stuttered again, seeing the pool of blood in between your legs. "Fuck," you curse - opening your eyes in panic. Rhaenyra forbid any Maester come and check you during the pregnancy. "Should I call the Maester?" she asks.

You shake your head.

They will take the boy before you have the chance to look at him.

"No," you assert - convinced that something terrible was happening. "You're trained in childbirth. I want you to help me," you command and she rises - attempting to call an assistant.

"No, only you." you groan, feeling another surge of pain run through your body.

Daemon halted in front of your chambers - he couldn't sleep at night. Something deep in his subconscious told him that you weren't fine.

He kept staring at the door for a few minutes, gathering his power to knock and peek his head through.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't muster the courage to show that he still loved you.

He moves slowly towards the door, placing a hand on its wood. Daemon Targaryen wasn't good with showing his emotions.

The babe came out - but not crying or breathing. He was pale - with milky eyes that would never see light for eternity. "My princess," Delancey cries, believing that it was her fault. "It's alright," you breathe - pressing the child closer to your chest.

A small tear runs down your face, and the door opens slowly.

It was the first time you ever heard that door open.

"(Your Name)," Daemon called out, staring at the floor and evading your stare. He was about to take a step backwards, but the sudden smell of blood enters his nose.

"(Your Name)," he repeats your name but in another tone.

"Daemon," you choke, feeling your heart give up. "Is that?" his eyes trailed up the bed and unto the babe that was in your arms.

"Get out," you breathe, not wanting to share this moment with the man that turned you into a broodmare. "Get out," you repeat, feeling the tears flow freely from your purple hues.

Maekar wasn't for him - Maekar was yours.

@watercolorskyy

[whistling-birds]

A Series of Events

These little chapters are all part of one larger story. Please enjoy! Let me know if you are interested in more. I just write these for fun, so please be nice! (Also my grammar sucks so I apologize in advance)

———————

STORY OVERVIEW: One day you randomly wake up on a planet with a Mandalorian hunting you even though you swore you were just in your bed, on Earth, the night before. Why are you being hunted? Why are you here? Is this a bigger story or just a series of random events taking place?

CHAPTER OVERVIEW: After you’ve been captured by the Mandalorian, Grogu seems to be interested in sitting with you. When he begins crying, you show Mando how to comfort and stop the kid from crying.

1. The Favor

The consistent humming of the ship engines would have been relaxing if I wasn’t so damn anxious. My heart was beating out of my chest- I could actually feel it shake my entire body. It was like a drummer boy in the middle of band practice during a drum solo and I could swear that the metal knight heard it, too.

I sat there quietly as I examined the interior of the ship. I did not speak or move. I was too afraid, to be completely honest. I tried to make myself as small as possible in the copilot chair. Maybe if I willed it hard enough I would evaporate in thin air.

The cockpit was small with a giant glass window. Small lights and buzzing noises illuminated from the overwhelming amount of buttons on the dash. How did he remember which button to press or use? It was like second nature to him. This man knew exactly what he was doing as he sat in front of me and steered the ship into nothingness.

The knights body was stiff and in control like a soldier. If I moved even an inch I would have been dead in a heartbeat, so I sat there, glued to my chair.

I watched him carefully as he steered the ship through the empty vacuum of space. He was really good at it. I would have been more impressed, but he was holding me hostage, and I wasn’t going to give him any more credit than he deserved.

I don’t know how I got here. I’ve never been to space before. In fact, no human has ever been to space unless you were an astronaut or a damn billionaire.

I would have been more excited, but how could I when I was handcuffed on a random spaceship? Not to mention I had no idea where this man was taking me nor did I have any memory of how I got here in the first place. One moment I was laying in my bed and the next I woke up in the middle of a desert with TWO suns.

I think I was in complete shock or denial...maybe even a bit of both? My body and mind were numb. I was afraid, but I couldn’t feel it at the moment. I became a shell of myself and tried to figure out what was going on.

If you’re wondering about space- it’s absolutely beautiful. Empty, but beautiful. There weren’t as many stars as I’d hoped, either. There wasn’t much of anything, actually. It was dark and cold and lonely like if you were to go to your school late at night with nobody around to occupy the halls. It was a strange sense of familiarity yet I had never been there before. I guess I have, just from a different perspective.

I must’ve hit my head- hard. I would say this could have been a dream, but it felt too real to be a dream. I was alive and I was awake.

“Grogu. Stop.” The metal man finally spoke. His voice was cold and altered from the helmet. He wanted to be hidden. He wanted to be a complete mystery and he succeeded.

My eyes darted towards him, but he didn’t move. His body remained in the same position the entire time: straight, stiff, and alert.

Who was he talking to?

That’s when I felt a tugging on my pants. The breath I had inhaled hitched in my throat as I slowly looked down at the culprit.

A little green goblin with three fingers gently pulled on the fabric of my jeans. He had large eyes and pointy ears; he honestly resembled a gremlin or Furby.

Aliens exist?

Aliens…exist.

Oh my god, aliens exist.

What the fuck.

I blinked rapidly. Maybe I was hallucinating. Maybe I had smoked a little too much with my friends and transcended dimensions. I would have rubbed my eyes, but my hands were cuffed together.

This had to be a joke.

The creatures big black eyes met mine as I stared down at him. I expected to have a meltdown. I expected my heart to explode out of my chest from overwhelming doom like that feeling you have right before you wake up in the middle of a nightmare.

Instead, I was met with tranquility and gentleness.

“Grogu. I said enough.” The man demanded, but Grogu did not listen, so the man directed his frustration towards me, “if you touch him you die.”

I believed him. I wasn’t going to test his patience so I nodded carefully. This man towered over me. Even in a sitting position his frame was much larger than mine. His shoulders were massive. Not to mention the fact that he was covered in armor from head to toe.

Even if I wanted to respond, Grogu jumped in my lap before I could say anything. An audible gasp left my mouth- the first sound I had made since being forced onto the ship.

The man instantly turned to face me. For the first time in hours I could analyze the front of his helmet. The T-shaped visor covered his eyes completely as the silver metal encapsulated his head. It was honestly beautiful, but I was in no state to admire his armor.

“I didn’t touch him I swear.” I spat out.

My body trembled in the seat. I couldn’t help myself. I tried to show him my hands, but they were still cuffed like he had originally done earlier in the day.

“Grogu.” The knight said with slight undertone of annoyance. The type of annoyance a parent gets when their child ignores their demand for the fifth time.

He had completely ignored my statement as he grabbed the alien off my lap and placed him in his own, “stay here.”

Satisfied chirping erupted from the kid as the man sat him down upon his lap. Grogu seemed happy- he was chirping and babbling like a baby. He seemed comfortable in the man’s lap…his dad’s lap? I don’t know.

Grogu was an interesting name, but not out of the ordinary here. Not the weirdest thing I’ve heard since being off earth. I could see Grogu peering over to me slightly. His large pointed ears made their way towards my direction.

I couldn’t help but smile at him. He emulated warmth and innocence, yet there was a type of wisdom that radiated off of him; as if he knew more than he could share.

“Hi, buddy.” I whispered to the kid.

I don’t know what prompted me to speak, but confidence started to grow within me. Maybe it was the kid or maybe it was me testing the waters. I don’t know, but there was something in the air. The warrior might’ve been terrifying, but if he had the child with him, he had to have some sort of empathy. Right?

Grogu’s little hands began reaching for me. He couldn’t touch me, we weren’t even close to begin with, but he tried. Babbling echoed from his mouth.

The gremlin brought life to the ship. A youthful sort of energy that permeated the cold decrepit steel. It was nice. If I knew more about the pair, and wasn’t cuffed, I would’ve enjoyed the laughter.

“That’s not a toy.” The man said sternly. He ripped a metal ball out of the kids hand and placed it back on the shifter of the ship.

Their dynamic was funny. He was stiff and strict while Grogu was playful and curious. They seemed to balance one another out providing each other a sense of comfort and security they didn’t know they were missing.

The kid then turned to look at me. His eyes glimmered with mischief. Within the blink of an eye the kid appeared in my lap.

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

I was definitely hallucinating.

“What the hell!?” I gasped. I…did I have a heart attack? I must’ve stroked out or something because a second ago he was three feet away sitting in his father’s lap. Now he appeared in mine.

So magic existed now, too?

I was actually going crazy, I think.

I looked down at the kid who sat in my lap. His hand held onto my thumb as he tried shoving it in his mouth with satisfied babbles.

His father swiftly turned to face me once more. He grabbed the alien and placed him back in his lap. I couldn’t see his face but could sense the frustration growing.

“I didn’t touch him I swear.” My voice trembled, “what…what happened?”

I needed answers. I needed SOMETHING to explain all of the nonsense I had experienced today. Two suns, a desert planet, aliens, and not to mention a damn spaceship. But he ignored me completely. He simply sat the kid back in his lap and continued steering the ship.

It didn’t last long, though, because Grogu started to cry. A shriek of sadness bounced off the hollow metal of the ship and pierced through our ears. I had heard children cry before, but nothing like this. His cries were more powerful. Way louder, too.

I hated hearing children cry. It broke my heart hopelessly listening to their wails. Grogu’s tin can of a father seemed completely ignorant to his son’s cries as he sat there.

I couldn’t see his facial expression, but his posture stiffened even more, if you could believe that.

The warrior held the child in his hands and looked at Grogu, “Grogu. Enough.” Was all he said, but the kid continued to cry harder and harder.

For some sort of warrior, the knight looked extremely out of place when it came to domestic life.

Seconds turned to minutes and the wailing continued to echo throughout the cabin.

“Grogu.” The man sighed. A hint of desperation slipped through his modulated voice. He tried patting the child’s back, rocking him, even retuning the metal ball to the child, but nothing seemed to satisfy the baby.

“I could quiet him.” I spoke up. My fragile voice exposed my inner feelings of fright. The crying was getting out of hand, though, and I could tell the frustration was building.

I could see the armored man look my way, but he did not speak. Was he analyzing me? Probably.

I looked at his visor and searched for his eyes, “Please. I can quiet him down. I hate hearing kids cry.”

I could sense his hesitation. Apparently I was the bad guy and was not to be trusted in this situation even though I was a confused person out of place in a new world I have never been before.

“Please. Give me five minutes.” I begged at this point. Grogu’s sobs continued.

“Five minutes.” Grogu’s father barked, “If you hurt him, I’ll kill you. That’s a promise.”

I nodded slowly processing his statement, “understood.”

It was a damn promise and I believed him. He didn’t seem like the type to joke around.

I slowly stood up from my chair and stepped closer to the pair, “I just need to be uncuffed…please.”

The man watched my every move like a damn hawk. To be fair, my eyes were on him, too. His gloved hand hovered over his holster.

“Please. So I can hold the kid properly.” I said with more need in my voice, “I’m unarmed. And I can’t go anywhere…we’re in the middle of space.”

The same silence filled the room once more. I looked at him with pleading eyes. I wasn’t going to betray him. What was I going to do? I couldn’t jump off ship. I had no idea where we were and he was my best chance at survival.

The knight nodded once. He swiftly unshackled my hands with ease.

“If you do anything stupid I won’t hesitate to shoot.” His modulated voice threatened once more.

I didn’t respond. I got it the first time he threatened me. Instead, I picked up the wailing child and held him in my arms.

“Hi, buddy. It’s okay.” I said as I began rocking him back and forth. The child was small and soft- he fit in the nook of my arm perfectly. I tried to relax him, and kept him pressed against my body for warmth. A trail of tears stained his cheeks which allowed more tears to follow.

“No, it’s okay. Shhhh..” I said as I rocked him back and forth. I was looking down at the child, but in my peripheral sat Grogu’s metal father. He was watching my every move. His hand was glued the gun on his hip waiting for me to make one mistake.

I had to get this kid to stop crying.

Grogu, PLEASE stop crying.

I cradled the kid more against my chest as I rocked him back and forth. My hand softly wiped his tears off his face.

“It’s okay, Grogu.” I whispered softly to him, and to my surprise, his wails turned to quiet cries. I started petting his soft ear.

Progress. Maybe singing would help?

“I see trees of green. Red roses, too. I watch them bloom for me and you, and I think to myself what a wonderful world…” I began singing to Grogu. His eyes lit up with curiosity as I watched the child soften in my arms.

I continued to sing, “I see skies of blue and clouds of white. The bright blessed days, the dark sacred nights and I think to myself what a wonderful world.”

I slowly swayed side to side and continued singing in a whisper. The song caught his attention as his big ears tilted to hear more.

My eyes slowly moved to the warrior. His helmet was glued to my direction and I could tell time was ticking.

Okay, we were getting somewhere.

After the longest minutes of my life passed, cries turned to whimpers and whimpers turned to hiccups, but I didn’t trust the kid to calm down just yet, so I went on, “The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky are also on the faces of people going by. I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do. They’re really saying I love you…”

Grogu relaxed more and more in my arms. His soft skin against my arm radiated warmth. It seemed like we were calming each other down.

“I hear Grogu cry…I watch him grow…he’ll learn much more than I’ll ever know and I think to myself what a wonderful world…”

Silence filled the ship once more and a relieved shaky sigh fell out of my lips. The kid liked the song. He began babbling between small sniffles as he recognized his name.

All the while the space warrior sat silently watching us.

“Good. See? Everything is okay.” I whispered to the baby. His big eyes looked up at me as I held him in my arms, “everything is okay.”

Although his tantrum seemed to dissipate I continued holding him and rocking him gently. My gaze gravitated towards the knight. He sat in his pilots chair and watched my every move in silence.

“It’s okay, Grogu.” I said once more before handing him back to his father, “everything is okay.”

Grogu sat in his father’s arms like a football, but this time he was quiet. His tears disappeared and quiet coos filled the ship.

I cautiously sat back down in the copilots chair and suddenly realized I was still held captive in an unknown world. I may have controlled the situation for a moment, but I was not in control of this game.

Hopefully I won some brownie points for quieting and caring for his child.

Eternal moments passed. I stared out of the window into space to try and distract myself from all of the awful thoughts that consumed my brain. Where exactly was I? Why was I in trouble? Will I ever get home? Am I going to d-

“Thank you.” The warrior said out of nowhere. His robotic voice interrupted my spiraling thoughts. He was still stern, but I could sense more sincerity after watching me care for his child.

Did I earn his trust?

My head snapped towards him from surprise. I only nodded.

His helmet analyzed me curiously as he tilted his head slightly. I couldn’t see his face, but noticed his body relax a bit. After a moment of awkward silence he turned back to the steer the ship to an unknown destination.

“It’ll be okay.” I whispered to myself, “everything will be okay.”

Part Two: Reality

[writing-in-strawberry-fields]

Someone at my Side

Chapter 1: When you’re lost in the darkness

Joel Miller x Original Female Character

Content: Joel Miller established relationship for a minute. But also they have problems but are also married but not. Lost of angst. Eventually.

Warning: not even close to being done

Nic jumps from sleep with a start. The sheets that have fallen to her ankles are cool and the body next to her is warm. She takes a breath. Something is reassuring about the intimacy of the room. The familiar pattern of the sun on the bed, the cups and bottles on the nightstand, and the cheap alarm clock. Which reminds her why she woke up in the first place.

That stupid piece of shit is bleating, the noises echo in the room. Nic groans into the pillow and throws her arm out, trying to slap Joel awake. It’s not working. And of course, she’s trapped under his leg which weighs a ton in his dead sleep.

“Joel,” She mumbles as she tries to wiggle her way out from under him. “Joel. Get the fucking clock, please.”

It doesn’t seem like he’s awake yet which is frankly astonishing.

The door clocks open.

“Alarm.” It’s Sarah. She must have woken up because of the clock as well.

Nic can’t move to face the kid when she yells. “I would but your fat ass dad has trapped me.” In actuality, the yell was more of a comprehensible mumble. Nic was still half asleep, despite the clock assaulting her ears.

“I can see that,” Sarah laughs. “Alarm!”

That’s the thing about Joel. Even if the world was falling apart around them, he would always hear his daughter’s voice first. In absolutely no way did this upset Nic because if she were honest, she agreed with him. No one tells you that when you fall in love with a single parent, you tend to really love their kids.

Joel jumps up, his leg finally leasing Nic from her prison. He clumsily slaps the top of the clock and the incessant beeping finally quiets. He groans as Sarah laughs and walks out of the room. Nic flips over and watches Joel as he stretches, making some questionable noises, before turning towards her.

In a manner that is just natural for them, Joel slides his hands around her waist and her back, his face burying into the center of her chest. Her hands effortlessly find their way to his hair.

“Good morning, birthday boy,” Nic teases. Joel just lets out a gruff noise, pulling her closer and breathing her in.

“Joel,” She says, a little more awake now and he is a little more asleep. “Joel. We have to get up. Work and life and shit.” He’s unresponsive. “The sooner you get up, the quicker you come home tonight, and we have cake, and after Sarah goes to bed we can have our own little celebration.”

Joel is out of bed faster than anticipated.

He puts a shirt on (inside out but that goes unnoticed by Nic) and some jeans that are wrinkled up in the corner of the floor. Nic doesn’t have to be at work for a while so she just throws on some discarded shorts under one of Joel’s old shirts.

Her first stop on the way out of the room is the coffee pot. She pulls out two mugs and Sarah hands her sugar and milk.

“You are my favorite child,” Nic tells Sarah as she pulls the girl into a hug.

“I’m the only child you know,” Sarah mumbles into the woman's shoulder who just brushes the girl's hair and shushes her. They laugh.

“Where’s the pancake mix?” Sarah asks once Joel is out of the bathroom.

He pauses, thinks, and then sighs. “Oh, was I…” He looks over to Nic who just raises her eyebrows and takes a drink. “Yeah, I was. Sorry.”

Sarah just shakes her head and opens the fridge. It wasn’t empty just yet. They had a minute to gather their savings and get to the grocery store. It was on Nic’s list. It’s just that that was a very lengthy list.

“I was gonna make you birthday pancakes.”

“No,” Nic gasps dramatically as she pulls herself up onto the counter. “Not birthday pancakes.”

Joel shakes his head but forgets his annoyance as Nic passes him his coffee.

“I swear. You know I don’t really like pancakes,” Joel says as he leans next to Nic on the counter. She elbows him, giving him a look that says, “Your daughter is trying to do something nice for you and I am in control of whether or not you have a good night tonight,”

“I know you don’t like them. It was for my benefit.” Sarah’s words make Nic laugh. She lifts her cup in salute to the kid before taking another drink.

Sarah takes the mug out of her dad’s hand and replaces it with a fresh glass of orange juice. He looks at her, confused at the cup switch.

“Vitamin C,” Sarah answers plainly.

“Get me a cup then, kiddo” Nic snorts. Sarah smiles and pulls out another cup for Nic.

“You get your, uh, homework done?” Joel asks and both women turn to him with a look. “Fractions?”

Sarah laughs. It had been a long time since her homework was simply fractions. Nic takes over breakfast prep as Sarah and her dad sit down at the table. She turns off the stove and grabs some plates from the cabinet. She quickly serves up eggs and carries all three plates over to the table.

“How old are you again?” Sarah asks as she starts shoveling eggs into her face.

“Thirty-six,” Joel answers. Nic whistles at him mockingly and glares at her over his mug.

“Gonna have to wear diapers soon,” Sarah jokes. Nic high-fives her for that one.

“Who says I don’t already?” Joel snarks back and Nic can’t help but tip her head back and laugh. I would still love you then, she thought to herself and then immediately gags at how cheesy her thoughts can be. She smiled and glanced at Joel who was already looking at her. He smiles briefly before chewing and stopping. He pulls something out of his mouth.

“Shell,” Joel says glaring at his daughter.

“Calcium,” Sarah mumbles with her mouth full. She smiles, revealing scrambled eggs in her teeth.

“Lovely,” Joel sighs at his kid. The sound of the loud ass garage door opening reminds Nic of the other person who practically lives here. “Is there enough for uncle Tommy?”

“Well, there would have been,” Sarah says and without a second, Joel’s brother is walking through the house.

“Ay! You’re still alive, you old fucker,” Tommy says brightly as he makes his way into the kitchen. His steps are long and it takes Tommy all of five seconds to go breezing past Nic.

“Aw, he loves you,” Sarah jokes, and Nic laughs.

“He’s dependent on me. Not the same,” Joel’s words are directed at his brother who is rummaging through the kitchen mercilessly.

“I think it’s the same,” Sarah mumbles.

“It’s definitely the same,” Tommy says loudly through the kitchen. Joel looks at Nic, expecting a retort from her but she just shakes her head and smiles. “I thought we was havin’ pancakes.” Tommy turns and looks disappointed.

“We’ll pick you somethin’ up on the road,” Joel says as he rolls his eyes, and Nic imagines he can’t believe that everyone was going to have his least favorite breakfast food on his birthday. It makes her laugh. “Concrete guys gonna be there?” Joel asks.

“Yeah, they said maybe.” Tommy opens the fridge and starts rummaging through some leftovers.

“Maybe? We can’t frame until we pour. We’re not gettin’ paid until we frame.” Joel’s voice raises slightly in frustration and also to reach Tommy, whose head is burning within the depths of the fridge.

“Well, we could bring someone else on, get the job done faster.” Tommy sniffs something in tin foil that Nic thinks is fried chicken but whatever it is, must not be too old cause he throws it in the microwave.

“No, no. I’m not splittin’ this job. I barely wanna split it with you. We could work a double.” At that Nic stares at him and stops her eating. She knows Joel can be a workaholic sometimes but he has to know how important his birthday is to Sarah. This is her day to celebrate her dad and he’s taking away a big chunk of it to work.

“Literally? Today?” Sarah asks in disbelief.

“I’m sure you could get off just a little early on your big day, honey. Right?”

“I know. I’d be done by nine. By nine, right?”

“Yeah,” Tommy mutters. He knows as well as everyone sitting at the table that it is extremely unlikely for Joel to get off work that early.

“I’ll bring back a cake. I promise.”

Joel looks from Sarah to Nic but both women have their gaze on the food that is now being pushed around on the plate. It’s one thing for one of them to be mad, but for both of them to be annoyed with Joel was hell on earth. In the new silence, the radio is clear.

“… continued disturbances in Jakarta, but are advising U.S. citizens…”

“Jakarta. Where is that, Middle East?” Joel asks, changing the subject and breaking the uncomfortable quiet.

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Tommy says, staring at the microwave. “It’s a country.”

“Or maybe part of Asia?”

“It’s near Indonesia, no?” Nic asks, the question is aimed at Sarah because she is without a doubt, the smartest person in the house.

“Jakarta isn’t a country. Being a part of Asia isn’t mutually exclusive with being a country, and in fact, it’s the capital of Indonesia,” Sarah smiles at Nic before taking another bite of eggs.

“Shit. Hope for us yet,” Tommy says from the kitchen. At some point, he had acquired a mug of coffee and was nursing that when the microwave went off. When he opened the door, the unmistakable smell of fried chicken hit Nic, who smiled, knowing her guess was right.

“All right. Finish up quick,” Joel says, talking to Sarah. “We’ll drop you off.”

“I’m still eating my eggshells,” Sarah mumbles through her mouthful.

“You got seven minutes.” And Nic hates how she knows Joel won’t make it home by nine and how she knows he won’t buy pancake mix or a cake. Sometimes he aggravates her to no end. But right now, when she looks over at him and he’s just eating his breakfast, his hair’s a mess, and he still looks half asleep, Nic can’t help but swoon. Joel looks over at her and smiles slightly. It seemed so natural for him to remain his grumpy self but he puts the effort in, for her, for Sarah.

Joel stands, takes his plate and Nics when she hands it to him, and moves to throw them in the sink.

“Your t-shirt’s inside out,” Sarah says to her father who takes a moment to stare at his shirt with confusion before cursing. “Shit.”

“He’s losin’ it,” Tommy says as Joel runs out of the kitchen to flip his shirt. Nic smiles.

Hate for them to leave but love to watch them go.

“He’s already lost it, Tom.”

Tommy laughs as he dumps the rest of his coffee into a travel mug before making his way to his truck. Nic moves to the refrigerator where Sarah’s lunch is. Nic puts extra effort to make Sarah lunch at least twice a week. She knows that Sarah is fully capable of doing that on her own but deep down, Nic knows that she appreciates it.

Nic rummages through the junk drawer for a sticky note and pen and when she finds what she needs, runs back to her room.

When she opens the door, Joel is barely putting his shirt back on and Nic is so happy she got to see it. “Wow there. Didn’t know I was getting breakfast and a show.”

Joel gives her a pointed look but it’s all a joke. He tucks his shirt into his jeans and walks over to Nic. She wraps her arms around his neck and smiles, pulling him down for a kiss.

“Happy Birthday to you.”

“Oh no. Please don’t start with the singing.”

Nic laughs and kisses him again, on his cheek. “Happy birthday to you.” The other cheek. “Happy Birthday to Joel.”

She pauses. Staring at him as he gives her this look of admiration. She feels like she’s falling but it doesn’t matter because Joel is holding her.

“Happy Birthday to you.”

She kisses him again and he tastes like coffee. She could spend all day kissing him but they both have work and Sarah needs to get to school. Speaking of school.

“I need you to write your daughter a note for her lunch. Especially since we both know your ass isn’t going to be back by no nine o'clock.”

Joel deflates slightly and takes the stuff from her. He pauses for a moment before scribbling something down. He rips off the top sheet and hands it to her. She smiles and runs out of the room.

Nic is throwing the note into the lunch box and pushing Joel out the door when Tommy honks at them. Sarah isn’t outside so she must still be in her room.

“Sarah!” Joel shouts back towards the house and Nic turns back around and quickly makes her way back upstairs.

“Sarah. Sarah hey-” Nic stops when she sees the girl standing in Joel’s room with a handful of cash and a knife. “Wow, kid. Whatcha doin'?” Nic leans her shoulder against the doorway and just watches.

Sarah jumps around. “I was…” Nic raises an eyebrow. “I was going to fix dad’s old watch but I needed the money.” And Nic believes her. She has no reason to think Sarah is up to anything suspicious, even if the knife was questionable. Nic trusts her.

“Well common then, I’ll drive you after school so you don’t have to go walking around the city alone.” Sarah smiles and nods. Outside, Tommy honks the horn again.

Closing the door to the house, Nic sees Joel walking out of the garage carrying some tools to throw into the bed of the truck.

“Hey, neighbor!” There is an old couple next door that is always outside in the morning when Joel, Sarah, and Tommy leave for work and school. The man, Mr. Adler, is slightly clueless, and his wife… Well, Nic has seen The Visit one too many times to feel comfortable around the silent old woman.

“Oh, hi,” Sarah says uncomfortably as she moves closer to the truck. Nic throws an arm around the girl’s shoulders for support. Nic sighs, knowing that no matter how long this conversion is going to be, it’s going to feel like an eternity.

“Uh, Connie was askin’ after you, since you haven’t been over in a while,” Mr. Adler says and his voice sounds as old as he is.

“Make ’em happy,” Joel mutters as he walks back into the garage.

“I could come by after school, but just for, like, a little bit?” Sarah says and Nic laughs at how unbearable this conversation is going to be.

“Oh, she’ll take whatcha got. Y’all can bake, whatever. Speakin’ of…” The man reaches back and grabs a plate of some of the stalest biscuits Nic has ever seen. Behind her, Joel closes the garage. “We got a lotta extra here. Y’all, y’all want some biscuits?

“Dad, you love biscuits,” Sarah says with a bit of bite and Nic smiles, tipping her head back over her shoulder to look at Joel who pauses and looks over to the couple. She follows his gaze.

The old woman has biscuit crumbs sticking out of her mouth and her husband reaches over to clean it up. It’s “slightly” disturbing.

“I do. But I’m on Atkins,” Joel smiles and hugs Nic from behind, his hands around her waist.

“Bull,” She mumbles through her smile.

“Shut it, Nicole,” Joel whispers onto her shoulder as he kisses her cheek.

“On what now?” Mr. Adler shouts and he sounds like a classic old man with failing hearing.

“It’s, uh… “ Nic steps on his foot. “You know what? We gotta run, but Sarah’ll be by later. She’ll stay as long as you want. Tell ya all about Atkins,” Joel smiles and starts around the truck, opening the door for Sarah.

“Solid,” Sarah mumbles to her dad.

“Oh, don’t forget.” Nic hands Sarah the lunch she made and steps up on the sidebar to kiss the top of her head. “Do great today, Sarah.”

Sarah smiles and nods, taking the lunch box. Closing the door, Nic turns to kiss Joel again before he leaves for work.

“Be careful. Love you.”

“Yeah yeah. Love you too,” Joel rolls his eyes. Nic knows it’s because he hates it when she tells him to be careful.

Once he climbs in, the engine starts and some loud trashy pop music starts playing as the car rolls out of the driveway.

She waits until the truck is out of sight before she makes her way back into the house. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. She settled into a routine with Joel and Sarah a few years ago when she moved in. They leave for work and school and Nic spends an hour doing house chores or just extra work to just help to keep the place tidy.

So taking a deep breath, Nic pushes herself off of the door and moves to the kitchen.

There is an accumulating pile of things to do, so one by one she crosses them off the list.

Start the laundry (don’t forget Sarah’s. The kid deserves a break )

Dishes

Clean up the nightstand because who knows what's growing on there right now.

Get ready for work.

6) 7)….

And Nic absolutely kicks that list’s ass.

Since the kitchen is closest, she starts with that. It’s quick work of washing plates, forks, and cups, drying them, and putting them away. It’s probably the most difficult of her tasks so Nic is not stressed about anything else.

The laundry she gathers and separates piles into, darks, and Joels versus Sarahs. Throw it in the washing machine and it is done with that task. The nightstand is not difficult work, but it’s probably the one Nic is most dreading. There are a concerning number of bottles and cans and other random crap that doesn’t belong on a nightstand.

She throws away what should have been trashed weeks ago and cleans whatever cups missed the first load of dishes. When she’s done fixing it up and wiping down the wooden surface, she moves to the closet to get dressed. Nic works a very low-maintenance job, she cuts hair. She’s not a professional hairdresser but she’s skilled and works with a therapy group of Parents of Kids with Autism.

Nic had a little sister who had autism. Carina. Nic attended a similar support group with her mom and learned a lot. Cutting hair doesn’t pay the bills but Nic’s between jobs right now and rich white moms who don’t care about their kids will give you a lot of money if they think you can make their lives easier.

Nic dresses in simple clothes, nothing flashy or congested. Dressing simply helped make her job easier.

When Nic has done everything and has twenty minutes to spare, she rewards herself. She cuts some strawberries (effectively creating more dirty dishes), covers the fruit in sugar, and throws herself down on the couch. When she grabs the remote and the TV flickers on, Nic hardly pays attention.

Jakarta comes up again in the background noise and Nic shrugs. What a coincidence, she ignorantly thinks to herself.

Soon enough she loses track of time and now she’s late. When Nic surges through the client’s doors, they are not very pleased with her tardiness.

Nic has established a theme for herself today. She was grossly late for work, she was supposed to meet Joel for lunch and she did, but they only had a few minutes before she had to leave again. And now. Nic felt overwhelming guilt as she pulled up in front of Sarah’s school…. 15 minutes late.

“I am so sorry kiddo. I don’t know what happened. I have been discombobulated all damn day, and there was this absolute bitch of a mother I had to deal with-” Nic is cut off by Sarah’s laughter as the girl gets in the car.

“It’s fine Nic. It’s not raining. Like last time,” Sarah trains off in a playful voice. Nic groans.

“Hey. That was one time!”

The drive through the city is stretches on and creates an anxious atmosphere but Sarah doesn’t seem to notice this as she gazes out the window. She doesn’t get to come into the city often and when she does, it’s a whole nother world. Living on the outskirts of Austin is nothing like being in the middle of all the chaos. Nic grew up in the city, this was her home.

The ride is silent except for the buzz of the radio which has been finely tuned to perfect by Sarah. The winding familiar streets eventually lead Nic to where she wants to go.

The Lone Star Watch and Jewelry store.

Nasir, the old shopkeeper with thinning hair and steady hands is leaning over the counter, looking through the mechanics of Joel’s old watch.

“Twenty,” He says, his accent thick. The clocks on the wall behind tick loudly and it makes Nic stressed. She loves this shop but right now she can’t help but feel uneasy.

“That’s it?” Sarah asks the price considerably lower than anticipated apparently.

“Okay, 30.”

“Don’t hustle the kid, Nasir,” Nic responds teasingly, leaning her elbow on the counter and shifting her weight to one side. She smiles at him playfully and he gives her a smile and points at her jokingly.

“Twenty’s good,” Sarah nods and smiles at the interaction between the two. Nic never pretends, how she acts with adults is practically the same as how she acts with Sarah. No bullshit.

Nic knows how important this gift is for Sarah, and how excited she is to give her dad something for his birthday. Nic knows how important Sarah’s dad is to her. The kid passes over the cash and pockets the rest. Nic gives her a look.

“It’s a spring. I’ll do it right now,” Nasir says as he turns around and finds the piece he’s looking for. He is always efficient and Nic has very little problem with his handiwork. With his back turned, Nic looks at Sarah again.

“What are your plans to do with the change?” Nic asks, keeping the question light and not making any accusations just yet. Sarah gives her a look.

“What do you think I’m going to do?”

“Buy hard-core drugs.” Nic’s tone is serious but she cracks a smile. Sarah just chuckles and shakes her head. Sometimes Sarah is just so much like Joel that Nic can’t help but laugh. Both would deny it but they are nearly identicals.

The phone in the back starts ringing and outside sirens.

One, two, three, four cop cars. Two fire trucks. Three ambulances. What the hell is going on outside? Nic thinks to herself. The ominous task force only adds to the strange atmosphere Nic has had all day and she can’t shake this feeling that something is just so out of balance. A S.W.A.T. car drives by.

“All day. I swear,” Nasir sighs, shaking his head. Nic wants to ask what he’s talking about but his wife walks out in a frenzy, the beads hanging from the doorway chattering behind her. She announces that the store is closing for the day.

“Huh?” Nasir glances up from his work to stare at his wife. She gives him a look that gives Nic chills. Nasir’s wife says something in Arabic, and while Nic failed her language courses, she knows when someone isn’t happy with their spouse. No matter the dialect.

“We’re done for today.” She flips over the closed sign against the door in an angry manner. Nic stands up straighter, the woman’s hostile attitude putting her on edge.

“It’s 3:15, we close at 7.” Nasir gestures to the clocks around them and then turns back to Joel’s watch. She tells him something that Nic doesn’t understand before taking Sarah by the arm.

“I’m very sorry. He cannot finish.” But the way the woman is holding Sarah makes Nic uncomfortable and she makes an effort to move between the two.

“I’m already finished,” Nasir responds, his wife is not happy with him and demands the watch, throws it into Nic’s hands, and ushers the two customers to the door.

“You two should go home.”

The door closes behind them and the curtain is drawn. Uncomfortable, Nic practically gets a speeding ticket racing home. Sarah doesn’t seem too bothered which is some comfort to Nic.

She parks in the driveway.

“Alright. You might want to get over to the Adlers. You’re late,” Nic hears the hypocrisy and snorts to herself. Sarah doesn’t quite move out of the garage yet and Nic turns to the girl.

“Could you pick up ice cream? Like backup ice cream. In case dad forgets a cake?”

Nic tries not to wince as she nods. Sarah smiles sadly before moving over to the neighbor's house. Nic watches her walk to the door, and the kid waves at her before entering the house. Mrs. Adler (not Grandma Adler) also waves. Nic shifts the car into reverse and is back out on the road.

And Nic buys the best fucking ice cream she can find. While she’s out at the store she also makes sure to buy some more eggs and pancake mix. She chuckles to herself while checking out. She can never be somewhere on time and Joel for the life of himself, can’t remember a damn thing. A pair made in fucking heaven.

When she gets home, she fills her arms with all of the bags because Nic believes that two trips are for the weak. She had gotten her EBT points and had splurged on a fancy dinner for her and Sarah. Potatoes, asparagus, and the best cut of ribeye the meat section at the grocer’s had to offer. The two and a half hours that Sarah spends next door are filled with frying and chopping. The kitchen smells divine, especially after Nic updated Joel’s spice rack. (“You have to have more than salt and pepper Joel.” He smiles. “We have Cinnamon.”)

The door opens and Sarah throws her bag down next to the door.

“Smells delicious,” Sarah says dramatically as she sits down at the table. Nic smiles as she turns off the stove and moves to the designated serving section of the kitchen.

“Well, you are just in time sugar. Cause mama’s done cookin' up in this bitch.” (Nic might have taken a shot or two while cooking.) But Sarah just laughs as Nic brings the plates over. Regardless of the alcohol in her system, the food was perfect. The two eat mainly in silence due to how quickly they’re just shoving this food into their mouths. To be fair, it was a fantastic meal.

Nights like these have become more common over the years when Nic makes dinner, sometimes with Sarah’s help, and they eat, watch TV, talk. It’s nice. Sarah has become like a daughter to Nic, and it’s cliche to say but it’s true. Every band concert, soccer game, and dance, Nic is there to cheer her on and help her up when she falls. And Sarah has been so supportive of Joel and Nic’s relationship. It was hard at first, Mother’s Days were difficult, still are, but waking up to breakfast in bed the past two years or so was a treat. Sarah has a mother, but sometimes it’s nice to have a mom.

After dinner, Nic is laying on the couch, channel surfing, next to Sarah who is working on her homework. The few times Nic glances over at the kid’s work, she gets a headache. Definitely not fractions.

Time passes faster than anticipated and soon enough Joel is an hour late. Maybe he’s been hanging around Nic too much. Sarah finished her homework and was now flipping through a magazine, her head resting on Nic’s lap.

Nic remembers as a kid when she would stay up reading, her father would yell at her, saying there wasn’t enough light in the room and that she would hurt her eyes. She wanted to tell Sarah about it but the News on TV caught her attention.

“No comment today from the Austin Police Department regarding a rash of violent incidents across the city, some suggesting a new street drug may be to blame. More on that when we return, with Manuela Sanchez reporting live…”

The sun had long since set and the TV was the only light when the sound of the doorknob turning caused Sarah to sit up.

“You locked the door for once.” Joel’s voice is tired and his steps are heavy as he walks through the door. “Good job.” Sarah looks unimpressed and Nic just stares. It’s important to show up for your kids, especially on important days like today.

“Yeah,” Sarah sighs and sits up more on the couch. Nic reaches over to the coffee table to grab the remote and mute the TV. Joel throws himself down between Sarah and Nic.

“It’s 10,” Sarah says expectantly.

“I know. They… gave us the wrong size for the headers. That doesn’t mean anything to ya. I’m sorry,” Joel looks over at Sarah with sad eyes but she’s relentless.

“Where’s the cake?”

Joel’s reaction is instant. He pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes and groans. “Shit.”

“C’mon, man,” Sarah cries disappointedly. Nic puts a hand on Joel’s back and she rubs it softly. Joel sits back up.

“I’ll get us one tomorrow.”

“Swear, or you don’t get your present,” Sarah says.

“You got me a present?” Joel’s instant mood change is hysterical. And he turns towards Sarah. “Swear.”

“On my life.” Joel has this smile on his face that he only reserves for Sarah, it almost looks like he’s a kid again with the joy that comes into his eyes.

Sarah nods at Nic who slowly, so as not to draw any attention to herself, stands from the couch and moves to the kitchen. She finds some old candles that are practically melted down into nubs and rummages around through the junk drawer for the lighter. By the time she makes it back into the living room, Joel is laughing and holding his watch while Sarah just watches her dad in admiration.

“Besides, it’s the thought that counts. And you were never gonna do it for yourself, so.”

“Thank you,” Joel says as he starts to put the watch on his wrist. He must catch the might of the candles cause he looks over and there’s a look on his face of something that is a pure mix of shock and contentment.

Nic holds a bowl of ice cream with a crooked candle in the center as she sits on the table across from Sarah and Joel and starts to sing.

“Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Joel/Dad, Happy Birthday to you!”

Joel laughs and goes to blow out the candle. Sarah is ecstatic.

“No!” Joel gives Sarah an incredulous look. “You can’t just blow it out. You have to make a wish.” Sarah’s voice is harsh but she’s smiling and she’s looking at her dad like he is the only person in the world that could ever possibly matter.

Joel rolls his eyes, closes them, waits for a beat, and then blows out the candles. Sarah claps as Nic moves the couch and pulls out three spoons from her pocket and passes them out.

“Oh! There’s one more,” Sarah says as she reaches behind a couch cautiously and reveals the DVD. Curtis and Viper 2. “Borrowed it from the Adlers.”

“Oh, this is the one with the deleted scenes.” Joel takes the disc and admires it, flipping it around, almost as if to check if it’s real.

“No way,” Nic gasps, taking it from him. He gives her a stupid pouty face that makes her smile. She can’t believe she’s holding this ancient artifact of a movie. (She’s exaggerating of course, but things of this crudity aren’t allowed anymore. It’s exciting to have the opportunity to watch it again).

“Yeah, imagine how bad those have to be. C’mon, pop it in. While it’s still your birthday.”

Nic throws the disc into the DVD player and reclines back on the couch on Joel’s other side. He moves and groans dramatically. Sarah’s head is resting on his opposite shoulder. It’s just Sarah, Joel, and Nic on the couch, huddled together like it’s gonna get cold and the intro to the movie starts to play.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“‘Course, I won’t,” Sarah says. “It’s too riveting. And I have to finish my ice cream.”

Nic snorts and before long is falling asleep to the sounds of gunshots, explosions, ninjas, and the lingering taste of ice cream.

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

Fine is a Four-Letter Word (Chapter Five)

Summary: This is Part Twenty-Two of my series A Herrmann/Halstead Production. It is an AU where Christopher Herrmann's mom had an affair with Pat Halstead resulting in a baby. The series follows this OC character (Rebecca "Bex" Herrmann) as she grows up and gets to know her brothers and the various Chicago teams. It is very much an AU, just to underscore that. It doesn't follow the same timeline and characters will follow different paths.

Click here for the Series Rundown where you can find the links to read all of the previous installments (which I highly recommend you do so that this one makes sense.)

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Christopher Herrmann & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Original Female Character, Will Halstead & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Will Halstead, Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz/Original Female Character, Will Halstead/Connor Rhodes, Assorted OC Couples

Warnings: Injury Recovery, Trauma Recovery, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective Siblings, Family Feels, Team as Family, Kissing, Romance, Mild Sexual Content, Swearing

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Friday

*** 

Jay

Jay scrubbed a hand down his face as Dr. Fredericks patiently waited for him to, you know, actually talk.

“You know what happened,” he began, figuring she’d at least heard through the grapevine if not directly from a few of her other first-responder patients. “With my sister and my brother.”

“I do.” Dr. Fredericks nodded. “But that doesn’t mean I know how you experienced it. I’d rather hear it in your own words.”

Rubbing a hand over his mouth, he slumped back in his chair, trying to gather his words. Dr. Fredericks waited. Infuriatingly patient, as always.

He couldn’t—he didn’t want to revisit that day. Any of it. But he knew the drill by now—knew he had to if there was any hope of getting a handle on it. The only way out was through and all that shit. Jay took a breath and tried to centre himself.

Slowly, haltingly, he told her everything. Every horrifying minute. Listening to the attack. Thinking that Bex—that she was dead before he could even get to her. Emery. And then Will. How he can’t stop hearing or seeing any of it whether he’s awake or asleep. How he’s trying to keep it together for Bex—trying to keep Bex together while she’s slowly falling apart before his eyes. Pretending she’s fucking fine.

Like any of them are.

They talked through his feelings of ‘misplaced’ guilt—Jay didn’t know if it would be possible to ever fully rid himself of that—and his extremely justified anger at Ty.

“I just—I want him gone,” Jay snapped out. “I don’t want him to ever be able to touch my family ever again. I’m doing everything I can think of to make that happen, but none of it feels like enough.”

Dr. Fredericks tilted her head at him. “What have you been doing?”

“I can’t work the case, obviously,” Jay said, still aggravated about that. “But I remembered my dash cam was on and it caught the phone call with Bex so I’ve handed that over. You can hear Ty pretty friggin’ clearly on that so it should help the prosecutors.” Detective Medeiros kept reminding him how huge a help that actually was.

“Mouse and I have been staying with her so I know there’s always someone there,” he continued. “But—”

“…but?” she prompted.

“We both have to start back at work on Monday,” Jay sighed. “They’re letting us switch our shifts around so at least one of us will be there—most of the time anyway, but I—I don’t know how I’m going to do it.”

“Return to work?”

“Leave Bex,” he said, shaking his head. “I tried to go for groceries on Wednesday and I-I had a panic attack in the parking lot of her building about leaving her alone. And Mouse was still there! I mean—I did it. I went. We needed food, but it…it was hard.”

“That’s understandable after a trauma like you’ve had,” Dr. Fredericks said. “Have you talked to Bex about your fears?”

“I don’t…no, no, I haven’t.” Jay sat up and grabbed the glass of water she’d set out for him. Gave his hands something to do. “Our oldest brother, Chris—he already had a talk with her along those lines this week.” Thankfully Chris had filled him in later because Bex hadn’t said a word. “I don’t—I don’t want to pile my shit on top of all that. I know she knows I’m worried about her. I keep checking on her while she’s ‘sleeping’—”

“Why the air quotes,” Dr. Fredericks cut in.

“Because I’m pretty sure she’s faking it,” he said, heart sinking all over again at the thought. “She went from waking us up with screaming nightmares to total silence in the span of a day. That doesn’t happen. But she’s resting, at least, and that was a huge fight to win.” His lips twisted in a wry smile. “One battle at a time, right?”

“That’s—”

“I know.” Jay held up a hand. “Something I need to talk about with her eventually, but I’ve been in her place, Doc. Hurt and in pain and knowing that there’s nothing you can do to speed up the process. It’s—it’s shitty and sleeping with broken ribs is actually pretty hard. I want to give her a bit of space…on that front, anyway.”

“Okay.” Dr. Fredericks levelled a look at him across the coffee table. “If talking to Bex is off the table, for now, what else do you think can be done to help you feel more comfortable with returning to work.”

Aside from removing Ty Anderson from the face of the planet? Jay blew out a breath as he wracked his brain, running through all of their plans and back up plans and—

“I think…I think we might be doing everything we can? To keep Bex safe, I mean.” He bobbed a little nod. “Aside from rolling her up in bubble wrap or something.”

“Which wouldn’t be good for her ribs,” Dr. Fredericks pointed out with a small smile. Jay popped a finger gun at her. “Fair point.” He let out a little laugh before sighing and running a hand over his face. “Can you just…tell me it’ll get easier at some point?”

“How long have we been seeing each other, Jay?”

“Couple of years,” he said, not bothering with the actual math. “Off and on.”

“So,” Dr. Fredericks said, not giving him an inch. “What do you think the answer to that is?”

Not easier.

Not ever really with the way their lives went, but eased. With time and a hell of a lot of work.

They all had a long road ahead of them.

*** Bex

Bex watched the numbers on her phone turn over and silenced the alarm as soon as it went off. Kol snuffled as he wiggled closer beside her and licked at her chin. She gave him a little scratch behind his ear.

“Good boy, Kol,” she said. “You did a good job.”

He’d snuck into her room on Tuesday night as Mouse was leaving and snuggled in beside her. Bex wasn’t about to turn him away and around one a.m., she was extra happy for that decision when he nudged her awake right as a nightmare was headed toward screaming out loud territory.

She did not need another night of waking up Mouse and Jay and having them burst into her room thinking she was fighting off an attack. Again.

Kol got plenty of treats for his help and now three nights in, they’d managed to keep up their little system. He woke her up before the nightmares got too bad. Mouse and Jay got more sleep—mostly. Jay kept checking on her, but she was pretty sure he was sleeping in between checks. She was only managing to get a couple of hours a night, but it wasn’t like she was exerting herself much throughout the day anyway.

The nightmares would fade at some point. They had to.

In the meantime, Operation Stop Worrying Your Whole Family was under way.

“Okay,” Bex said, pushing Kol away gently. “Time to get up and face the day.” She was workshopping times for how early she could come out of her room and not have Mouse look at her with that tiny little frown line between his eyebrows, asking her if she got enough sleep.

Seven a.m. and eight a.m. were not it. Maybe eight-thirty would be the magic number.

Bex grit her teeth as she leveraged herself out of bed, ribs screaming at her. Most of her body was still one giant bruise and moving, standing, or sitting—everything friggin’ hurt.

Slowly, but surely, she made her way toward her door. Taking a deep breath—ow, OW, ow—Bex pasted a smile onto her face and headed out into the hallway…

Into a quiet apartment.

Hunh.

Will’s bedroom door was open with no Jay inside—right. He was going to therapy this morning. Bex hoped the empty room meant he was following through with that and actually made his appointment. She’d overheard enough whispered conversations between him and Mouse to know they were both still beating themselves over what happened. Like any of the blame fell on them.

She crept out into the living room, shuffling along while Kol pranced beside her. With a bark, he shot ahead, nosing at the balcony door and she finally spotted Mouse sitting out there cross-legged.

“Oh, hey!” He turned around at the noise, scrambling to his feet as soon as he saw her. Sliding open the screen door, he stepped inside, scanning her face with worried eyes. That stupid frown line starting to form. “Did you get—”

“Hey! Good morning to you too,” she said, dragging that smile back out. “What were you doing out there?”

“Ah. I, uh—” Mouse rubbed at the back of his neck. Blushing. Bex’s smile suddenly felt a lot less forced.

“Mouse…” she teased, stepping closer. “Spill.”

“I was trying out a meditation thing that Lucy keeps recommending to me,” he blurted out. “Like a quiet-the-mind-relaxation-thing—”

Because he was stressed. About her. About all of this.

“Did it help?” She mentally crossed her fingers, already planning to send Lucy cookies if it had. Even a little bit.

“Oh, I didn’t—I actually got distracted watching some birds chase a squirrel in the parking lot,” Mouse confessed with a little snort. “I think they were playing? I hope they were, otherwise those were some mean birds.”

Bex laughed, doing her best to stifle the groan that followed as she pressed a hand against her side. Mouse’s face fell instantly.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He crowded into her space, hand hovering over hers, carefully not touching. “I shouldn’t make jokes. Are you okay—”

“I’m fine, I—I don’t want you to stop making jokes,” she said. “Ever, okay?” She stared at him until he met her eyes again. “Promise?”

Mouse held her gaze before sighing and dropping his forehead to press against hers. “Promise.”

“Good.” Bex moved forward to wrap her arms around him and snuggle into his chest. “Let’s try this again. Good morning.”

“Morning, Bex.” Gentle, gentle arms wrapped around her, holding her close. “How about I make you some breakfast?” Mouse asked hopefully.

Her stomach rolled at the thought and Bex hid her grimace into shirt. “Sure,” she said. “That sounds great.”

***

Connor

Will sighed as his care team left the room and Connor sat quietly beside him, holding his hand while they both absorbed the big news.

“Guess I can cancel the rescue squad,” Will said, cracking a grin despite the dark circles under his eyes.

Connor snorted. “Like Severide would bust you out of here and risk Bex coming down on him.”

“Hey—ugh.” Will’s face fell. “I almost made a joke about how now was the best time since she’s out of commission, but—”

“Too soon.” Connor shook his head and Will nodded solemnly.

“Way too soon,” he agreed. “Think she’ll be coming by today or should we call her with the good news? Oh, we gotta talk to Jay and Mouse about moving stuff around so I can have space to maneuver. Our apartment isn’t exactly wheelchair friendly.”

Dr. Allan was letting him take very short walks, but he had to be careful due to the severity and placement of his wound. He couldn’t stress his abdomen while it was still healing which meant lots of bed rest and using a wheelchair more often than not to get around. At least for the next few weeks.

And Will was right about his apartment. Seemed like it was time for the discussion Connor had been prepping for in his brain over the past few days.

“So,” he cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Mm?” Will glanced at him before continuing to type out a list on his phone, head shooting back up when he registered the serious look on Connor’s face. “What’s up?”

“I think that it would be best if you came home with me instead of your apartment,” Connor said, squeezing Will’s hand gently when he instantly started to argue. “Just—wait, please. Hear me out.”

Huffing out a breath, Will sank back against his pillows, the fight draining out of him as quickly as it had flared up. “Tell me.”

“My place is bigger,” Connor began. “You’ll have more room so you won’t have to worry about bumping into anything.”

“At least if I bump into anything at my place, I’ll know it didn’t cost five grand a cushion,�� Will snarked and Connor raised an eyebrow at him.

“What happened to hearing me out?”

Will mimed zipping his lips, making Connor laugh softly as he rolled his eyes.

“Better.” He leaned in and took Will’s hand again. “There’s a ramp to the building and the elevator is solid.” Will and Bex’s place had two steps to get in and Connor had a disconcerting lack of confidence in the elevator. “I’ve got a walk-in shower,’ he continued, trying to hit all of the highlights right off the bat. “It’ll be easy to make it accessible and you can’t deny that my mattress is way better than yours.”

Using his free hand to unzip his lips, Will said, “…I do love your mattress.”

Connor knew that would be a point in his favour.

“I know the biggest issue is that you want to be back with Bex,” he said and Will nodded. “But this would just be temporary and like you said, she’s trying to recover too. Jay and Mouse are there. They’ve got her covered. And I’m pretty sure they won’t be leaving anytime soon so five people trying to operate in your apartment is a recipe for disaster.”

“Five?” Will’s face scrunched up in confusion. Connor fought off the urge to sigh.

“Yes, babe, five,” he said. “You think I’m not going to be with you for every step of your recovery, no matter where you’re staying? I already talked to Goodwin about taking a leave.”

“Con…”

“Out of everything, that is the one thing that’s non-negotiable. I mean it.” Connor blinked back tears as his breath caught. “You don’t—you don’t know what it was like, Will. You got shot. Right in front of me—I was—you almost bled out in my arms. I thought you were going to die, that I was going to lose you and I couldn’t—” He swiped a hand over his cheeks, shaking his head. “It was the worst day of my life and I just…I don’t want to let you out of my sight for a little while, okay? Is that—will you let me do that? Please?”

Will opened his arms as Connor’s voice broke on those last words, letting Connor sink into them—carefully—and they held each other until Will whispered, “Okay.”

Connor sat back up, searching his face for any hint of doubt or reluctance, but he was smiling softly at Connor through teary eyes. “Are you sure?”

“You’re right about all of it,” Will said, chewing on his lip as he considered his next words. “Your space is a better set-up, but more importantly, I think it would be best for us to be together in that space. Mouse and Jay have Bex covered and we can still visit and like you said, it’s temporary. I’m not letting Jay steal Bex as a roomie now. He had his chance.”

Relief flooded through Connor as a week’s worth of tension just…disappeared. “That’s—thank you, babe.” He leaned in for a kiss. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Will said, quirking an eyebrow at him. “I’m calling dibs ‘not it’ on telling Bex about this.”

Connor sat back in his chair with a thump.

Well.

Shit.

***

Jay

Jay walked out of the doctor’s office and blinked at the sight of Voight and Olinsky standing next to his truck. His heart dropped.

What now?

“What’s going on?” he called out as he jogged over. “What happened? Is—”

“Bex, Will, and Emery are all fine,” Voight said, cutting off his immediate worries. “There’s nothing wrong with your family or the team, but we do need to talk.”

“Not here,” Olinsky added.

They both looked grim and Jay had about a thousand questions, but all he asked was, “Where?”

Voight jerked a nod at his truck. “Follow us.” He stalked off toward his vehicle without another word, assuming Jay would follow as ordered. He’d promised Bex and Mouse he’d be back right after his appointment, but something was clearly going down and Jay didn’t want to be out of the loop. Whatever it was, it was serious enough for them to track him down at his therapist’s office.

He shuddered to think of how many privacy laws they’d violated to do that.

Jay got in his truck and followed them out of the lot, bracing himself for whatever shit was coming their way now.

***

Hank

Al was silent beside him as they drove toward one of the abandoned industrial yards that Hank preferred for meetings like this.

Silent and yet incredibly loud in his judgment.

“Spit it out,” Hank growled.

“Is this really the right way to play it?” Al sighed.

“I’m not going to risk someone else breaking the news,” he shot back. “We need to catch him off-guard. See his face.”

“You don’t actually think he had anything to do with it.” Al turned and Hank could see him staring at him out of the corner of his eye.

“I hope not,” Hank said slowly. “But I also know we’re all capable of almost anything when someone threatens our family. And I think I have to see his face to know for sure.”

They rolled along the cracked pavement of the empty warehouse yard with Halstead pulling in close behind. He slammed the door of his truck as he got out, striding over to stand with vibrating impatience as he waited for them to join him.

“What the hell is this about?”

Hank waited until he was right in front of him. Eye to eye. “Ty Anderson is dead.”

Halstead blinked, unmistakable shock crossing his face. Unfiltered.

Good.

“What the—when? How?”

“Stabbed,” Al piped up. “Tuesday night. They did an internal investigation that came up as ‘fucked around and found out.’ Which tracks.” He shrugged. “Detective Medeiros only found out about it last night and came knocking on our door this morning.”

“She said he was found in section of the prison where the cameras were on the fritz,” Hank said, still watching Halstead carefully. “Nobody saw anything. Nobody heard anything. He bled out before he was found.” He waited a beat. “She wanted to know if we’d heard anything.”

Halstead narrowed his gaze. “Asked me what you dragged me out here to ask me.”

“We just want to know if anybody’s gonna hear something,” Hank said, crossing his arms as he stared right back. “Better to do clean up now than be caught with our pants down later.”

Closing his eyes, Halstead shook his head as he took a deep breath. “What?” he demanded, shooting a glare at both of them. “You think I had something to do with this? Ordered a hit?”

Hank shrugged. “Wouldn’t blame you.”

“If I was going to kill him,” Halstead snarled, jabbing a finger at him. “I would have done it that day. At Emery’s. He’s fucking lucky Hailey was there to stop me.” He shook his head and let out a harsh breath. “No,” he said, a little bit more even this time. “I wouldn’t—I didn’t have anything to do with it…but I hope whoever did? Made it hurt.”

The crime scene photos flashed through Hank’s mind. “You got your wish there, kid.”

Halstead went quiet for a moment. Calculating. “…was it you?”

The thought had crossed his mind. Briefly, hours later in the aftermath, when he’d met the sunrise in his kitchen with a bottle of scotch at his side. He knew enough people, had enough money, and was owed enough favours to make it happen.

But Al had shown up, tugged the bottle out of his hand and halted his silent plans with a quiet word. She wouldn’t want that. Don’t put it on her.

“No,” Hank said, meeting Halstead with a steady look of his own. “None of us.”

Halstead nodded, relaxing minutely before flinging out a hand. “Then who?”

“Guy like Ty,” Al said. “The possibilities are endless.”

***

Statesville Correctional Center

Peters

Nathaniel Peters had worked at Statesville for the better part of twenty years and has crossed paths with all kinds of inmates. Mean ones, innocent ones, friendly, scared, pissed off…

All kinds.

But only one had ever truly unnerved him.

Robert Forrest. Or Ramsay as he was better known as. His crimes of record were hacking and embezzlement, but the cops and the feds and the rest of the suits had no idea who they were really dealing with. The other criminals did though and Peters had heard all of those rumours. Witnessed enough violent outbursts to believe them.

Most of the more violent residents at Statesville had a kind of anger that Peters could understand. A rage that burned hot and fast, leaving a path of destruction before flaming out. It passed.

Ramsay. He was nothing but rage. A constant fire that burned cold. Controlled. He wielded his anger like a knife and there was no running once he had you in his sights. The hunt was all part of the game for him. It didn’t matter if he did the killing or if he paid one of his many pawns. As long as there was blood in the end, he was happy.

Peters was very invested in keeping Ramsay happy.

The guard before him had already up and ‘quit’ abruptly. Ramsay paid the warden well enough that he had the run of the place. The way Peters saw it, he might as well play nice and earn his extra money while he could. Stay on Ramsay’s good side…such as it was.

As soon as he had enough for that little fishing hut down in Florida, he was out of here.

In the meantime, he’d be the best damn pawn in Ramsay’s arsenal.

Knocking on the door of Ramsay’s cell, he waited for permission before sliding open the window. “Some detective’s asking questions,” Peters said. “But the warden has it handled.”

“And Mitchell?”

“Says thank you for the bonus,” Peters said, holding back a snort. The other guard jumped on the job as soon as it was offered. Didn’t hurt that he’d been itching to deal with Anderson since day one. “He’s waiting until the questions die down before taking his early retirement. Everything’s holding up so far. Nothing to tie back to him.” Ramsay hummed, pleased. “I do appreciate tidy work.” There was a pause before his face suddenly appeared in the window, taking everything Peters had not to flinch.

“Do you think she’ll be pleased?” Ramsay asked, eyes wide and unsettlingly earnest.

“Who—”

“My songbird, you idiot,” Ramsay hissed. “My Bex. Do you think she’ll like her gift?”

“Y-yeah,” Peters managed to get out. “I think she’ll be real grateful.”

Ramsay backed away from the door with another little hum. “Good. Maybe I should send her some more flowers. To help her recuperate.”

“I’ll get right on that,” Peters said as he slid the window closed. He shuddered as he walked back down the hall. He might be a coward and a pawn…

But at least he wasn’t Ramsay’s girl.

***

  Jay

Grateful felt like the wrong word when someone had been murdered—even someone like Ty—but Jay wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t relieved.

Ty was gone.

He could never touch his family ever again.

For the first time in a week, Jay felt like he could actually breathe.

“What now?” he asked Voight.

“Detective Medeiros gave us permission to let the most important people know so that’s where we’re headed next,” Voight said, jerking his chin at Jay. “We were going to hit 51, Med, and then your place. Coming with?”

“Yeah,” Jay nodded. “Definitely.” He needed to be there for this. To let Emery, Will, and Bex know they were safe.

No matter how it happened, that part he truly was grateful for.

Click here to read Fine is a Four-Letter Word on ao3 [A/N - please do click over to read on ao3 because there are some important notes at the end of the chapter to read]:

And here is the tag list (let me know if you wish to be added or removed):

@sorry-i-spaced, @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived, @thewannabewriter, @lexhalstead3

@foxes-and-cats, @sensitivemallysix, @emme-looou, @lookingfortherainbow85

[americahasasuperstar]

OPEN ARMS ( chad meeks-martin )

summary : you’re the only person there for him no matter what, and for that, chad loves you more than words can explain

warnings : swearing, fluff, kissing, mentions of death, somewhat angst?

It was 3 in the morning when he called.

Dealing with Chad and his idiotic behavior wasn’t anything new to you. You came into his life when he was 6 after he and Mindy had teamed up to save you from falling off the monkey bars ( you were only up there because of Mindy tho so honestly, they really didn’t have a choice but to save you ). Ever since then, the twins had been in your life and always a constant bother even though you truly never minded.

Chad was the main one though. He always came to you for the smallest of things, and you never turned him down which is why he never felt as if he needed fro stop. After what had happened in Woodsboro, things had become worse for him. Sure, he always had some issues with nightmares due to petty things like football injuries and getting pantsed in front of the entire student body, but now he could barely sleep anymore and it pained you to see someone you adored with your entire heart struggle in a way that your advise or love couldn’t really help.

When he had called, you weren’t doing anything other than watching Grey’s Anatomy so you were quick to put a pause on your show to see what he needed. When you answered the phone, you immediately could sense that something was wrong with your friend by the quiet yet still audible ( you have good hearing… plus it was dead quiet on both sides ). A part of you hoped that this time, it was one of the times where Chad was just bored and couldn’t sleep and wanted to take you out on a late night drive to talk about random bullshit. Unfortunately, it was a night where he had dream about her.

“You know, she would want you to seek therapy and find a way to cope with her death.” You said, referring to Liv McKenzie. You had never grew close to her during her short time in the group, but you knew her well enough to know that she truly loved Chad and wanted the best for him.

“Therapy doesn’t do a damn thing but point out how I’m fucked up.” Chad scoffed. You could practically hear his eye roll over the phone.

“Maybe find a new one?” You suggested.

“I did. I’m on the phone with her right now.” He said.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head as you reached over and turned your lamp on. “Dr. Y/L/N at your service. Lay it on me.” You told him.

“Uh… well… open your door?” Chad asked you.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you sat up on your couch, looking behind you at the door. “Chad… don’t tell me—“

“Yeah, I’m outside. Open up.” He told you.

You shook your head as you hung up the phone, tossing it on the couch before she got up. You didn’t know why you were surprised. This wasn’t the first time that Chad showed up randomly at night just so he could see you. You always secretly hoped that when you were awake at odd times, you’d get the chance to see Chad. He would just show up and talk to you for hours, never leaving you to yourself which you always appreciated. It made you feel… complete. To have someone that wanted to be around you so much that they went out of to make sure they saw you every time that they could. Maybe it was wrong to feel such a way about someone you considered to be just close friends, but you couldn’t help but feel as if you loved Chad a bit too much. He did so many things that made you feel how you felt. Showing up and spending time with you was one of them.

“You’re lucky I opted to live alone!” You called out, walking over to her door and unlocking it so she could open it.

“Your roommate would fucking hate me if you had one.” Chad chuckled, sniffling as he wiped his wet face.

“Aww. Tears?” You asked, pouting as he walked past you into what he considered to be his home too. And with how much he was in your apartment, it practically his home.

“Nah, the damn rain.” Chad said, shaking his head as he scoffed. “Duh they’re tears, Y/N.”

You bit back a smart remark, instead choosing peace. You closed the door behind him after he came in, and opened your arms for him. “Come here, you big teddy bear.”

He gladly took solace in your arms, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. You could feel how tense he was. It upset you that he barely ever got to be the carefree boy he used to be before the attacks last year. It was fine though. He had you to be there for him whenever he needed some comfort. Like now. You knew he wasn’t going to let go of you, so you just accepted that and started to move backwards towards the couch. You found yourself tripping and falling back onto the couch, giggling softly when he landed on top of you with a barely audible grunt since his face was still buried in your shoulder.

He took some time to find a comfortable position between your leg, while you were already very comfortable. He was very soft. Very warm. Fucking heavy as well, but that wasn’t that bad. “How bad was it this time?” You wondered.

“You know… I see her face every time I close my eyes. And it just hurts so much because… why?” He admitted, letting out a deep sigh as he laid his head on your chest. “Why did she have to die? Why not someone else? I know that’s fucked to say, but I’d rather it be somebody that I didn’t know.”

“I get it. It would hurt way less if it was Neil Booker from trig.” You stated, giggling at your own joke. It was a bit rude, but nobody liked Neil. Not even his own parents.

“Definitely wouldn’t care if that asshole bit it.” Chad chuckled. The humor in the air vanished quickly though. He got sad easily, it was his thing. You didn’t mind. “I just… I feel terrible. I wasn’t there to protect her—“

“You were quite literally fighting for your own life.”

“She was calling my name when she found me. Begging me to wake up. I heard her. I tried to tell her that I was still here. I just wasn’t strong enough. I wish I could’ve said I love you. Or goodbye. Or something.” He admitted.

“She knew you loved her. Trust me, Chad, she knew. You made it clear so many times.” You reassured him. You started to draw circles on his back, hoping that it would comfort him in the same way it did when he did it to you.

“I hope you’re right. I just feel so bad… I truly did love her, you know?” He told you. “She was a great girlfriend. It just sucks that…”

“That what? She isn’t here with us?” You asked him.

Chad took a second to respond, clearing his throat as he lifted himself off of your chest. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused on why he suddenly got up but you didn’t bother to question what he did anymore. “No. That I love someone else now.” He said.

“What?” You scoffed, sitting up as well now. “Why is this the first time I’m hearing about some new girl you have feelings for? Is it that girl Tara rooms with? I hate her honestly, but like, she’s pretty or whatever.” You said.

It was painfully obvious that you had an issue with him having feelings for some other girl. You were jealous, whatever, it wasn’t like it was uncalled for. He treated you like a girlfriend. Took you out to your favorite places in New York randomly. Gifted you things that no friend gifted someone they didn’t like in a romantic way like a ring or a box or chocolates. Showed up at odd hours of the night just to spend time with you. So excuse you if you started to develop feelings for your best friend. You just hoped that he would’ve felt the same way about you though. Maybe it was stupid to think that.

Chad just chuckled and shook his head at you though. You didn’t know why he was doing that, but then that’s when he started to lean closer to you. You felt all the oxygen in the room suddenly vanish and you felt your chest getting tight as he got closer and closer to you. You waited for this moment for years. Why wouldn’t you? Anyone would wish to kiss Chad Meeks-Martin. And here he was, about to grant your wish.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked you, his eyes glued to your glossy lips as he stopped just an inch away from them.

You didn’t bother to give him a verbal response, instead you closed the gap between your lips. Instantly, butterflies erupted in your stomachs as your lips touched. Finally. You felt as if you were in heaven as Chad pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss by adding tongue. You moaned into his mouth, your hands finding themselves tangled and tugging at his mess of hair. You were struggling to breathe but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to stop kissing him. He tasted like iced coffee and cherry lip balm, a gift from yours truly. And, man, was he a good kisser. Your first kiss with him was everything that you imagined, and more. You hoped he felt the same way though.

When you two finally had to separate for air, you knew for a fact that he was in bliss too. He looked strung out on you, his eyelids hanging low and his cheeks flushed. He couldn’t believe that he finally got to kiss The Y/N Y/L/N. Every boy in Woodsboro would kill to be in his place. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward again, giving her a quick kiss just to savor her taste. He didn’t want to move too fast though. So he controlled himself and just pushed you back down on the couch so he could resume laying down on you until he fell asleep peacefully.

“Thank you so much for being someone I can talk to. It makes me feel safe.” Chad whispered, growing restless as he laid comfortably on your chest.

“Always Chad. I’m always going to be here.” You reassured him. You were still smiling ear to ear. He could hear it in your voice, and it made him smile just as wide.

He hummed peacefully as he closed his eyes. “I love you so much, Y/N. So damn much, you don’t even understand.” He said.

You felt your heart swell up with pride and happiness as you played in his curly hair. He loved you. Chad loved Y/N. “I love you more, Chad.” You smiled.

Just wait until Mindy hears about this.

[yaatrickyassification]

My Guardian angel

Synopsis: Waking up in one of the games you have played and simped for is equally draining both physically and mentally, especially when its characters have attached themselves to you.

[ Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto x fem! Reader ]

Word count: 3,886

TW: Mentions of dying, drowning, swearing, repetition of words, grammar mistakes, and not proofread.

PS: I have not played twisted wonderland for a long time, so I might get things wrong.

It was terrifying, the way water ran up to your nostrils entirely clogging it up in its presence. The flailing of your limbs in the dark ocean and in the corner of your mind you can imagine a small or a large hand making its way out of the depths of the sea, their clawed and pale white fingers tightly clutching onto your flailing ankles as you try with all of your might to swim, swim, swim, up towards the sea, to live and not to drown. And yet the hand never lets go even during your struggles.

It stays, and it’s there. Anchoring and slowly pulling you into the deep depths of the ocean with no mercy. You can vaguely hear shouts of your name in the distance, but with the way the water clogs up your nose and your mouth and everything. You can’t seem to bring it in you to care nor to think, the only thing your body can do is flail and flail around just to survive. Survive.

You open your eyes and you can see black tar rising to the sea surface as the dark substance washes over your drowning figure, covering your eyesight like a warm blanket during winter nights. And then you inhale a sharp intake of breath that leaves you wondering and confused.

I can breathe?

And then you’re opening your eyes as the water that seems to entirely close off your figure was now out of the way, and you came upon the sight of a world, a world so familiar, so pixelated, and beautiful, twisted wonderland.

Riddle Rosehearts:

"As long as you obey the rules of the Queen of Hearts, you're always welcome at Heartslabyul."

Riddle was nothing but a small child but then at that time, his small little fingers trembled in unease as his blueish-gray eyes shook furiously. It was his daily time of sneaking out of his bedroom during his break hours and going to Trey’s home to either play or eat sweets, but the loud thud startled him awake from his happy train of thought and he immediately thought about his mother, did she find out?

But what he didn’t expect to find in the courtyard of his home was a fourteen or was she fifteen? a year old girl? Inside the garden of his home, is she dead? Riddle tries to steady his breathing as he makes his way to you. His fingers gently poke at your side and he immediately backs away from your cold body, oh my god she is dead.

Riddle was about to scream and let out the most horrified and body-shaking yell he had ever ripped out of his mouth for the duration of his ten years of life, because oh sevens, did he just see a dead body fall out of the literal sky? And so, he did, his mouth opened wide as tears were about to fall from the corner of his eyes but he stopped as his eyes feast upon a small twitch of your finger.

And a groan, then the fluttering of your eyelids, and Riddle can finally see that you’re alive and… well? And you almost screamed as your eyes feast upon a young riddle that looks exactly like every fanart you have seen in the twisted wonderland fandom.

Your mouth and eyes were wide open but stopped as you saw the light tremble of the child in front of you and the look of horror in his eyes at the thought of any one of you making noise, and it came to your mind immediately. His childhood, that fucking mother-

And you seethe in silent fury, “you should go now, you don’t want to keep your mother waiting.” Riddle nodded furiously and went back towards where his room was located but stopped as he faced you and tilted his head curiously, “how did you know?” 

“I’m like your guardian angel, you can say that.” You have decided, you will adopt this child and take him out of his mother’s teachings even if it means crawling through hell and back because no way you’re letting your favorite character suffer right in front of you. And he gazes up at you with a small flush on his cheeks and he mutters, “a guardian angel…” 

The first few weeks were awkward, to say the least, you have known that Riddle was socially awkward and have not known social cues thanks to his fucked-up childhood, but it was hard to experience intense staring from a child who looks like he would dissect you the very second. You had asked him once and the child spluttered and his hand's fumbled all around him before finally letting out his question that was bothering him for weeks: “Where’re your wings?” And you facepalmed. How can this child be so cute?

The first thing that you have found out is that you have magical powers. Amazing, right? Teleportation and the other thing, you can’t quite describe it. Riddle had once tried to introduce you to Trey and Chenya and you were excited because wow, a meeting between characters, but who would have known that Trey and Chenya can’t see any bits or pieces of your existence? You comforted Riddle at that time.

(“Are you really real? Or are you just a figment of my imagination?” Riddle let out quiet sobs that break your heart into millions of pieces, “I am, why wouldn’t I be?” And Riddle quietly mutters out a small: My friends can’t see you. And you sigh, “you can see me, right?” He nods, “Didn’t I tell you? I’m your guardian angel, I will always be real.”)

When Riddle turned eleven you had the fantastic idea of stealing from his mother and giving him all of the sweets, you can buy from the town, (you dropped off the money on the counters, don’t worry. You have very high moral ethics.) He smiles as he looks at the dozens of strawberry tarts that you have bought, he will not ask about where’d you get the money because he has an inkling of where you’ve got it from. Bonus, you told him stories about your world and he loves it.

And when he got inside Night Raven College, you have expected him to burst and immediately confront a student who was eating burgers on a Wednesday because you were sure that the game mentioned a passing law like that, but he just… stared and sigh before sitting down in the cafeteria table with you beside him, (no one can still notice you.) You didn’t know how much of an impact your teachings were on him than his mother’s, which Riddle was thankful for.

You have expected it once, that you can’t fight canon. You don’t know where you went wrong but one phone call from his mother was the only thing needed and Riddle was back to his in-game persona, shit happens and he over blotted, you watch in horror as the seventeen-year-old boy now drenched in black tar, his screams were painful and forcefully wrenched out of his throat. “[y/n]! [y/n]! Please, where are you? I’m right! Aren’t I? I’m always right! You said it yourself, where is my guardian angel? Show yourself!” And the monster behind his back lets out a monstrous roar. 

You curse and your mind swirling with thoughts that you can’t even manage to understand before finally moving to another, your head was running at full speed that you didn’t even manage to notice the sprouting wings on your backs nor the shock gasps on everyone’s faces, and you felt it, deep down your soul, you were noticed.

And before you knew it your body was running (flying?) towards the boy you have raised (fuck his mother) and he stares at your figure with wide and hurried eyes and extended his arms out to you like a cub asking for his mother, “[y/n]!” And you met him in a hug that was very much so needed.

You can feel the black tar weighing and taint deep down to your white wings that are almost turning the opposite of their original color but you don't care, all you can think about is the boy in front of you, your son, your brother, your only family.

“Hey, hey! I’m here Riddle, don’t worry. I’m your guardian angel, aren’t I?”

Leona Kingscholar:

"I don't even have time to sleep."

The sun was burning as always in the desert and all Leona needs is a peaceful and uneventful nap under the large tree of Sunset Savanna, who would have known that he would come across a girl that looks older than his age (maybe fifteen years old?) with white wings spreading out of her back and curling around her figure like a protective cocoon.

And she was wet. Dripping wet, he might add. The dry land of the Sunset Savanna was wet and all muddy now due to her dripping wings and white clothing and he scoffs before making his way to you and crouching down to watch your stable breathing and your peaceful features.

“Hey, lady, are you okay?” If it were a man, he would have kicked him and growled at him threateningly for taking his space but Leona was raised to be a respectful man towards women, what a king.

Leona sighs before reaching out a hand and stopping, hesitation seen in his eyes. Right, his magic. He’s not into turning strangers into sand the first time they meet. Leona stares and stares and stares, before getting up and trying to call someone for help. But if something unexpected happens, you surely need to expect the unexpected.

“Your highness… Please excuse my rudeness, but this servant of yours can’t see the person you’re asking for help for.” Leona grumbles and points toward your sleeping figure, “she’s right there.” He points to you but to the servant’s peripheral view, it was just wet ground. “I’m sorry your highness but—” Leona growls and puts his hands up to the sky, “augh no matter, get out of my sight.” 

Leona stares at your sleeping figure before sighing and getting up from his seat, if no one will take care of you then he’ll just scurry the fuck out of here. He turns to face you for a few minutes before leaving.

You woke up to the feeling of a towel covering your entire figure and a note fluttering gently in the wind before falling right in front of you, ‘take care of yourself and pay me back after, herbivore. I don’t know what birds of your kind eat.’ Birds? You turn to your back and let out a gasp as white holy wings fill your vision, and is that a salad bowl right beside you? 

For the first few weeks, Leona hadn’t visited you even once. Though, he would sometimes enter a dreamy state and think about the girl he had given food and a towel once (very unbefitting of the second prince) but then he would shake his head rapidly, terribly confusing his royal tutor. Why am I thinking about that bird?

And yet, his body finds himself running toward the tree he has seen you. A bowl of salad and another fresh towel in hand because what if you were wet again? He doesn’t want you catching a cold— ahem, he doesn’t want you wetting the ground he’s sleeping on.

And the only thing that you can do as Leona stops in front of you with his intimidating thirteen-year-old body was gape because is that Leona Kingscholar in the flesh? and in the corner of your eyes you can see the wisps of sand fluttering around the salad bowl and towel, even Leona notices it too as he immediately lets go of the things he has brought and shove them into your hands.

“Here, take it.” You didn’t pay any mind to the trembling of his fingers, and something inside of you sparks your thinking. I won’t turn to sand, right? And you reach out to hold his tightly trembling hands, you watch as his face contorts to horror and disbelief as he tries to swat your hand away from his, “you what are you doing?!— Do you want to die?” And you smiled as you felt the wisps of sand calm down under your touch.

“You— how.” He looked at your non-disintegrating figure and calmed down under your fingertips, “you— what’s your name?” You smiled, “[y/n] [l/n], your highness. Oh, and please, I’m not a bird, I think so.”

“Then, what are you?” “a guardian angel, maybe?” He furrows his brows, “are you dumb?”

And ever since then, Leona had taken time out of his royally busy day to spend time with you, you should be honored he said.

You especially love your wings; you can fly and do tricks in the air that you can’t do before. You have tried to take Leona flying with you at one time but was greeted with a gentle swat of his hands, (he isn’t much scared of touching you now) but you still force him to fly with you and he looks at you with such a murderous look, you were scared for a second. But the way his eyes light up and his hands trying to touch the clouds with a peaceful serene smile on his face, lets you know that he was enjoying it.

When he turned fourteen, you were greeted by a slap by the door as he hurriedly went inside his room, his pristine white clothing now stained with food and drinks, and with the way he tried to stifle his sobs and his low growls tells you exactly what happened during that birthday party, you manage to coax him to tell you who were the ones that did this to him.

Safe to say, Leona wakes up the next day that four noble families got banned from Sunset Savanna for the crimes of being disrespectful to a royal. Leona stares at you suspiciously for the whole day, he was grateful but won’t tell you.

And when the time for the spell drive tournament comes around the corner, you watch so intently as Leona scores every goal and defense towards his opponents, he was crushing it that you almost hope that Malleus won’t come and take this boy away from the spotlight he should have ever since he was a kid.

And you smiled as Leona was given the championship trophy and the best player of the game medal, and Leona turned to look in your direction with adoration in his eyes and a thankful smile, “thank you,” he mutters. You just hope that he won’t over-blot.

He over-blotted, fuck. You didn’t take into account the fact that Malleus Draconia can see you, you thought a nice conversation would be good with the man because come on, he was one of your favorite characters too, and Leona might have… Found out some way, you let out a curse as a sand tornado encloses you in, “don’t worry [y/n], I’ll let you out soon, I just need to take care of some pests.” You want to smack him in the head.

And you can feel the world pulling and closing you in and their whispers of: come on, it’s time to leave. You don’t belong here. Like hell, you were leaving the man who you spent your teen years and have fallen in love with.

And you can feel the fire, fire so scorching that it can burn up the entire world into ashes. And the sandstorm surrounding you is littered with flames and Leona turns to look at you with wide bewildered eyes, in the background you can hear Lilia shouting things that consist of: “an archangel?” your identity crisis of being a bird has finally been solved, thanks, grandpa.

It was time to bring your boyfriend back to sanity.

Your eyes glowed gold in color as you wrapped your wings around the tired lion who had just finished over-blotting, thank God, or sevens. Ruggie turns to you with an indiscernible expression on his face, “you were real?” “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Like, I mean I can’t see you, so, I thought Leona was kind of delusional once aha—”

“Well, it defeats the purpose of being a guardian angel of Leona if you can see me, right?”

(Omake:

Falena receiving threatening messages from a so-called guardian angel: What the fuck is this bullshit. Let me follow this.)

Azul Ashengrotto:

"This is just… spectacular!"

When Azul first laid his eyes on you, he was bewildered. He hasn’t seen a mermaid in these parts and surely mermaids with wings. This was his first experience of meeting a winged mermaid, his parents told him once in his bedtime stories that a Mélusine can grant you wishes if you have ever stumbled upon them once. And he is very excited to get those wishes.

He lets out a toothy smile as his eight tentacles crawled through the ground to reach the slumbering mermaid, her white wings curling around her like a protective cocoon. Pretty, Azul suddenly has the urge to touch the mermaid’s wings. It can be his first wish, he reasoned with himself. And his stubby little fingers reach out to your wings gently and sacredly, as if he was handling a precious artifact from the sea. And a touch was form, feather, and skin. You woke up in a dark place and all you can think about is drowning—

You were breathing so harshly, your vision splashed with dark spots as you felt like you were drowning, and you can’t breathe— Really? Is this how you die a second time? By drowning again? And your fingers made their way to your neck, tightly clutching onto it like a lifeline, and a terrified small whisper made its way to your unhinged ears, then suddenly, you were waking up from the panic attack that seemed to consume you.

Your eyes wandered all over the place before finally focusing on a small octopus who was looking at you with terrified eyes, you can’t believe that you just literally traumatized a child with your panic attack. Then you’re spluttering, is that a young Azul Ashengrotto right in front of you? “Azul?” And Azul stood even more upright than before bowing his head at a thirty-degree angle.

“Y-yes! No! I meant; how do you know my name?” And before you could answer, the child gasps and points at your wings again. You were shocked as wings were sprouting at your back. “What the fuck— I— What is this?” You forgot that you have a child in front of you. He points and shouts: “wings! They’re very pretty!” You tilted your head to the side.

“Thank you?” Azul gasps and points at himself, “how did you know my name? Is it because you’re a Mélusine and came to grant my wishes?” “What’s a Mélusine?” Azul shyly grins before answering your question, “mermaids who have cool wings and cool tails!” He looks down at his tentacles with a bitter smile, “and they said you can grant wishes! So, can you—you grant my wish?” Quite ironic, since he was the one granting wishes the last time you played. You didn’t have the heart to refuse the young ten-year-old Azul so you nodded your head.

“Can—can we be friends?” He bowed, and this was the start of a blooming friendship between loners.

The first few weeks, Azul has brought you different foods that his family restaurant makes. You were grateful but you need to tell him to stop because he might make his family bankrupt with how much he’s giving you free food. “You might turn bankrupt with how much you’re giving me food.” Azul shakes his head, “no problem! Mom makes a lot of delicious food; we will never go bankrupt!” What… A positive child.

You dreaded the start of another school year, you watched as Azul slumped on your tail sadly, “what’s got you in the dumps?” You ask, “school, they’ll bully me about my tentacles again.” He grumbles as he grips your scaly flesh causing you to flinch and he immediately retracted his hand seeing your reaction.

“Sorry.” And he wilts before brightening up again and pointing at his tentacles, “can I make a wish? I want to have your tail.” You stared in horror at the man, will he go that far just to get accepted by society’s standards? You can feel the tears stinging your eyes but you paid no mind and held Azul’s cheeks gently.

“I won’t do it.” As if you can grant wishes, “I like you as Azul not whatever you wanted for yourself because you wanted to fit in, kids like them bully those who are different because they’re not unique they’re just inconsequential cogs in this game but you’re not, you’re perfect the way you are.” Azul cries in your chest as he lets out the insecurities deep inside his soul.

You’ve followed Azul once inside of his school (because you were a worried mother hen) to find him shouting at his bullies telling them that they’re inconsequential cog pieces, oh my god.

And when he finally mastered his special magic, the first thing that he did was grant your wish just like how you have granted him his wish of being his friend, “I’ll have my wish granted at a later time.” Azul tilts his head to the side, “what will I show you then?” You smiled, “everything that you do impresses me.” Azul preens at that.

And when the time for Night Raven College, you cried as you spotted the legs you were familiar with, you were stuck with a tail for years. You fall on your butt as your legs wobble and Azul hurriedly helps you up, the both of you peacefully unaware of two sets of prying eyes. “So, this is the Mélusine you were talking about Azul?” Jade asks as Floyd grins, “she looks so fragile, can I hug her?” And Azul immediately came to your rescue by shielding you away from the tweels.

Sevens bless him by that, because man, the tweels sure are intimidating in real life. The Lord has mercy. Wait, did they just see you? You tilted your head to the side, and so did Azul, “you can see her?” The tweels look at each other with confusion clear on their faces and they nod their heads. Safe to say you were pulled into a lot of mischievous pranks because people can’t see you and they can get away from it.

You expected Azul to be in his in-game persona when he went to Night Raven College, but no. He was better, he grants wishes but asks for money instead of their weaknesses and strong magics. And he already implanted the point system that was only applied after his overblot in the monstro lounge. 

You cheered and hugged Azul as tightly as you can, because wow character development. The tweels watch in the background as their dorm leader gets assaulted by a frail winged mermaid, “Azul! I’m very proud.” Azul splutters as he tries to hide his blossoming cheeks in his fedora hat. “A��About what?!” You can’t tell him that everything went worse in another universe, so you smiled. “You grew up.” Azul huffs.

“Of course, hey, you didn’t make a wish yet. My offer still stands, but of course, since you’re my guardian Mélusine I won’t ask for any payment—”

[natslildove]

gif not mine

Bring you back

natasha romanoff x reader

summary: since vormir, you haven’t been in touch with any avenger, you went missing. no one knew where you were or if you were even still alive. until one day, you hear a knock on the door and a familiar face awakes something inside of you, you thought was long gone. hope.

warnings: swearing, panic attack

authors note: sorry it took me like 2 weeks.. i kind of forgot what the story was supposed to be lol. anyways !!!! hope you enjoy it ! <3

you can find the previous chapter here.

11:07 AM

You’ve been in the compound for less than an hour and you’re at Tony and Bruce’s lab, being overwhelmed with theories of how and why they think they can bring Natasha back.

But the thing is, they only have about 2 days. To be precise, 56 hours. Natasha died at 7:13 PM. That’s why is always so hard to sleep when every night around that time, your mind goes back to Vormir.

“We think that, if we find a way to get to Vormir in time, we might have a chance to stop her”, Tony said.

“Stop her? Won’t that reverse the whole ‘saving the world’ thing?”, you say while looking at the place. It’s a mess. Natasha would’ve hated.

“No, you see, time doesn’t work that way. We can’t go back in time and undo something. It would just create a different timeline, but not change ours. If we go back in time and kill Thanos, everything he’s done will still be done but, the second we kill him, another string of time would be created.”

“Says who?”

“Someone who knows about this stuff, trust me”, Bruce tries to convince you without revealing his source. You look at Tony who just makes a gesture suggesting you to ignore this part.

“So you’re saying that, basically, all we have to do is… Go to Vormir?”

“At the right time, yes”, Stark seems hopeful.

“And why don’t you just get a quinjet or something and go?”

“Because, and that’s the problem, Vormir is about 15.000 light years… We can’t get there.”

You knew it. All of this was just bullshit and suddenly you hated yourself even more for believing there might actually be a way of bringing her back. You try processing what Bruce just said and it’s like the whole universe is laughing at you for being so stupid. How could you. You were fine. Or at least you tried to believe you were. She’s dead. She is dead. Natasha is dead. Your girlfriend is dead. Girlfriend. God, you couldn’t even propose to her, the ring long forgotten somewhere in the locked room. This is all so stupid. You’re so stupid and your girlfriend is dead and you never even get to call her your fiancé or wife or nothing. Nothing. She was nothing now. You’re not even a widow, you’re just nothing. You’re no one and you have no one. You’re alone. It should’ve been you. Not her. She was perfect, she deserved to live. She deserved to win. She should be here.

“Woah, hey! Y/N! Hey, what happened?” Tony is holding your face between his hands and you just now realize you were crying. Bawling. You heart was beating so fast you felt like throwing up.

Fucking panic attacks.

You couldn’t speak, your eyes going back and forth but never really looking at the man in front of you. You shake your head and dries your tears with the back of your hands with a certain strength. You whole face is red and Tony and Bruce are giving you pitiful looks.

God, you hated this. So much.

“I’m fine, it’s fine” you take a deep breath, “Just keep going… How- Is there a way to get there or not?”

“Are you sure you’re okay? We can-“

“I’m fine!”, you cut Bruce, “I’m fine, okay? Just answer me”

“Uhm, there might be a way”

“Stop with this might this might that. Just fucking say it already”

“You know Carol? Captain Marvel, Space chick, blonde and tall?”

“I know of her”

“She got her powers from the Tesseract”, Tony continues, “And now, she can fly trough galaxies like, super fast!“

“So we need her?”

“Not exactly”, this time, Bruce says, “Carol is really, really far away, not even with all her powers she could get there in time. We can’t even reach her”, the scientist looks at you, “We need the Tesseract”

“To create a machine?”

“To hit someone with it”, Tony says while cleaning his throat. You barely even listened.

“What? Are you- Are you serious?”

“It could work”

“It could kill someone! This Carol chick only survived because she was half Kratos or something!”

“Kree, and yeah, maybe, but”, the sortear guy keeps trying to convince you, “It worked! All we need is someone willing to do it. Without risk tests and all the regular procedures we are legally required to do”

Oh. A lab rat. They needed a lab rat dumb enough to sacrifice their life’s for a maybe.

Maybe the person will die. Maybe the whole compound would explode. Maybe it wouldn’t even do nothing.

Maybe they’d get Natasha back.

“I’ll do it”

“Yeah, we know Romeo”, Tony smiles. Bruce walks fast to a closet, opening and grabbing a suit.

“We made from your old measures but…”, Banner looks at you up and down and you feel embarrassed and exposed, “We might need to tighten a little bit”

Ouch, what a way to call you malnourished.

12:33 - 55 hours and 20 minutes until Vormir

Bruce was still measuring you in the lab and it was quiet. You knew he had questions but you were grateful he didn’t asked them.

Yelena enters the place holding a bag os chips and a bottle of water. She doesn’t say anything just gives it to you.

“Eat. And drink it”

“I’m not really hungry”

“I literally did not asked anything”, she opens the bag while still in your hands and grabs some chips, “Natasha will hate to see you like this”, she smiles, “I can picture her complaining about your habits”’ now she laughs, “I mean, when she sees your house she will freak out! You killed all her plants! The place is a mess”

“You’ve only seen the outside”

“Sure”

“What do you mean, ‘sure’?”

“I mean…”, she steals more chips, “Sure”

You get this weird feeling that she’s been visiting you without you realizing it. It says a lot about you.

When Yelena stops rambling about her sister, that’s when you realize you’ve eaten some chips. Basically the whole bag, per se.

“You talk as if you’re sure this will work”, now you’re drinking the water. Yelena is smiling not only because of the conversation.

“Someone has to, right?”

Yeah. Someone has to.

1049 words.

taglist: @fxckmiup @janashstorm @smromanoff @natsxwife @makkaroni221 @marvelogic @thelonewriter247 @lizzeolsenismommy @g-athenaathens ( tumblr just won’t let me tag u idk why i’m sorry :(( )

[augustghosts]

Useful

Tommy Miller x Fem!reader

Part two of Plastic Trees.

Thank u for the love on part one <3 I’m excited to keep writing this story! I wanted to focus more on tommy and readers' relationship in this so had to get rid of everyone else lmao, anyways. <3

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: 18+! Fingering. Choking. Unprotected PinV. Lots of dirty talk. Kinda dom!tommy. He's a lil rough, but we like him that way, don’t we? Maybe breeding kink if you squint. Slight size kink? Idk I just like to talk about how tall Tommy is. This is like violence from the get go lol. Guns and a few graphic descriptions. Lots of swearing. Lots of pet names, bc i just feel like tommy is the type to use them every other sentence lmao. It gets a little fluffy and awkward at the end. This is also looong as fuck (sorry). Not proofread as always.

Tommy is, rudely, jolted awake by someone aggressively shaking him.

“Dude! Get the fuck up!” An equally aggressive voice hisses beside him. His eyes snap open to a gun pointed right between his eyes. Before he can even process who is on the other side of the weapon, the person holding it is taken down. A loud gunshot rang out from the side of him - Joel. His saviour, of course.

“Come on!” Joel yells.

Tommy shoots up and joins Joel in crouching beside the couch. He doesn’t have time to process what is happening- more shouting and gun shots sound from throughout the house.

“Shit.” Tommy whispers. “I gave my gun to that other asshole.”

He looks around frantically, his eyes landing on the body of the man Joel had just shot. Tommy crawls over and swipes up the gun that had been pointed at him just seconds earlier,

“What the fuck is this?” He asks.

“No fuckin’ clue.” Joel responds. “All i know is we gotta get the fuck out of here. We’re close enough to the door. We can wait for a window- fuck those other guys.”

Tommy nods - he only has one thing on his mind. He looks behind him to the basement door, it’s still closed.

“What about the basement?” He asks as casually as he can.

“Fuck her. I don’t give a shit.” Joel doesn’t even look at him as he responds. “She’s probably the reason they’re here.”

“I don’t think so. These don’t look like the guys who hired us, Joel. Raiders probably.”

“And?” Joel is still scoping out the house. His eyes darted around. “She’s probably dead already. Someone might have already gone down there.”

“So we should go check! We can still get paid!”

“Fuck that.” Joel hisses. The house is suddenly quiet. “Let's go!”

Joel heads to the front door. Tommy is still staring at the basement. Fuck it, he makes a split second decision. The image of the way she looked at him last night and how soft her hands felt flicker through his mind, and his legs almost work on their own as he heads to the door. Whoever had broken into the house is upstairs now, he probably only has a few seconds until they clear up there and come down here.

He storms down the steps, what the fuck is he doing? He thinks about what Joel said - she’s probably dead already. Shit, he hopes not. He reaches the bottom of the stairs and he’s praying that he doesn’t get down there to see something awful. He breathes a sigh of relief when his boots hit the concrete at the bottom and he sees her curled up in the corner. Her knees pulled up to her chest, her head on her knees. She looked adorable.

“Hey! It’s me.” He says. Her head shoots up, her eyes have that fearful look again. The one that got him so fucking hard yesterday. He has to resist hauling her up into his arms.

“What’s happening?” Her voice sounds small.

“Get up.” He spared another look up the stairs and held his hand out to her. “We need to go. Right fucking now.”

She looks between him and his hand, she’s hesitant. Honestly, she feels like she can’t figure him out. Is he really saving her or is he following his brother’s orders again, and taking her out there to kill her. Are the guys that hired her here? Is that where he’s taking her?

“Now!” He practically orders her. His voice was loud and stern. He notices the way her breathing hitches before she reaches out to take his hand. He pulls her up and turns back to the staircase.

“Stay behind me, okay?” He says. She does as she’s told, which he fucking loves. More gunshots that sound too close for comfort have him pausing in his tracks. Tommy jumps as a body collapses at the top of the stairs, she squeaks behind him as blood from the man's head trickles down the stairs.

“Okay, uhm.” He turns to her. “New plan.”

“Could you get yourself through that window?” He asks as his eyes land on the small window in the corner. It’s not tiny, probably small enough for her to fit through.

“Yeah. Yeah I think so.” She looks over and nods. He walks over and looks through. The window is high, eye level. The coast looks clear and he hurries to stack some boxes under the window and call her over. “Get through and when you’re outside, wait there. Don’t move.”

“Wait! Where are you going?” She asks frantically, her hands grasping the sleeve of his coat like she had done last night.

“It’s okay. I’m gonna go upstairs and I’ll come get you.” He gently pries her hand off of his sleeve. “It’s okay. I promise.”

Fuck, as much as she doesn’t want to do this, as she looks up into his big brow eyes she nods. She trusts him. He nods back and when he realizes he’s still holding her hand he drops it - much to her disappointment. He turns and goes up the stairs, he’s gone before she can even blink.

What the fuck? She’s shocked for a moment, but a loud crash from upstairs springs her into action. She climbs up onto the boxes Tommy had stacked and pushes the old rusty window open. Shit, she really hopes it is Tommy that finds her out here and not anyone else. Once she’s on the other side, she realizes this is the first time she’s been outside in weeks. It’s sunrise and she can’t help but stare at it. The sky looks beautiful. If it was someone else who finds her out here, she wouldn’t mind dying while looking at this.

A pair of gloved hands clamp down on her shoulders and she jumps, whirling around ready to… fight? She doesn’t know how to fucking fight. But she doesn’t need to when she lays her eyes on Tommy. He’s staring at her, thinking about how beautiful she looks outside. He’d only really seen her in the basement, guilt hits him as he thinks about it. He hates how much he wants to kiss her - he’d gotten so close last night.

“Where are we gonna go?” She asks.

He doesn’t know. He stays silent as he looks around - they need to get out of here. He takes her arm and pulls her forward to start walking. She accepts her fate and follows him. Despite their rendezvous last night, she was still scared of him. He had still been an accessory to kidnapping her, she doubts that him coming in her mouth had changed anything.

“So, what did you save me for?”

They’d been walking for a while, Tommy knew where they were heading. An empty house he’d scoped out a few weeks prior. A safe house, if you will. He knew it was safe, his mind was reeling when he heard her voice behind him.

“What?” He doesn’t look behind him. He’s walking much faster than her and he can hear how fast she’s walking to keep up.

“Did you bring me out here to kill me? Or are they meeting you out here?”

“Who?” He asks. He turns slightly, she looks up at his gorgeous side profile.

“The people who hired you. Was that them at the house? What happened to the other guys? Your brother?”

“I don’t know.” He sighs. He doesn’t know which one of her questions he’s answering. Why did he save her? He doesn’t fucking know. He hears her sigh behind him, a small oh leaves her mouth. They keep walking for a while and she keeps quiet. Watching him walk - his broad shoulders and his leather gloves that cling to his large hands. The gun he has slung over his shoulder. She’s thinking about how she’s sure he was going to kiss her last night. She’s sure of it. Remembering how he had caught her above the stairs and how his hand had covered her mouth. He was so confusing, he had touched her last night and saved her this morning- now he was walking ahead acting as if he was burdened by her.

She takes the hint and stays quiet. When they reach the house, it looks the same as all the rest. Run down, plants taken over and growing up the walls. She had always thought that was beautiful. Nature taking things back. Tommy unlatches the rusty gate, kicking some leaves from the overgrown lawn out the way. She follows him in, he turns before they reach the door. He’s looking around - looking for someone following them. Because knowing Joel, he would. He has to use some force to push open the door, his gun is pointed forwards and he walks around the rooms with it - she just watches. He walks around for a while, looking through cupboards and trying to make a small fire in the fireplace. The windows are all boarded up so no one can see the fire, it makes the her feel a little claustrophobic but she’s grateful because it is fucking freezing.

“We’re safe, for now.” He says, swinging the gun off his shoulder and placing it down. “We’re gonna stay here tonight. We’ll get movin’ tomorrow.”

“Okay.” She sits on an old couch. “Where?”

“You ask a lot of fuckin’ questions don’t you?” He says.

“I-i just want to know what’s going on.” Tears fill her eyes, she looks away from him. She is not gonna cry in front of this motherfucker again.

“I know of a place.” Tommy continues. He hates to admit seeing her cry does something too him. The same thing it did to him last night. “A community, I know some people there. Joel is probably making his way there too. Might take us a while to get there though.”

She nods at him. He takes a step towards her, he’s towering over her now. He always does, but the fact that she’s sitting down makes him look even bigger - and her even smaller.

“So, if you want to come with me and if you want me to keep you safe, you’re gonna have to be good. You’re gonna have to trust me. And follow my rules.”

She just nods again, dumbly looking up at him with wide eyes. He steps forward some more, standing directly in front of her now. He lifts his hand to grasp her chin, tilting her face up to look at him. The warm leather of his gloves made her melt into his grasp, his long fingers cupping her jaw.

“Can you do that?” He whispers, his voice gets lower and raspier. “Use your words.” He says when she nods again.

“Yes.” She whispers. “I can be useful.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks. “How?”

“Whatever you want.” She says. “I’ll follow your rules. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Fuck baby.” He utters. His raspy voice makes her stomach swirl and heat spreads between her legs.

“Was I not useful last night?” She asks as she reaches for his belt. “Do you want it again?”

“Help yourself, gorgeous.” He spurs her on. His hand that was cradling her face moves to her hair as she takes his cock out of his jeans. He’s already semi hard just from teasing her, but he suddenly remembers something he had said last night.

Her hands wrap around his length and he sighs as he lets her jerk him off a few times. Her mouth is watering, but before she can lean forward and take him into her mouth his other hand comes down to cradle her head. He tilts her head up to look at him again and says, “You know what? I believe I made you a promise last night.”

“Huh?” She’s confused. The only thing on her mind being his cock and the heat between her thighs - the thighs Tommy cannot wait to get in between .

“We were interrupted yesterday.” He says, using his grip on her face to pull her up to a standing position. “I recall telling you that you deserved to be touched. Since you were so good, and you’ve been very good today.”

He leaned in, their mouths inches away - mirroring their position from last night. Fuck it, she takes one for the team and leans up to press her lips to his. Both of their lips are dry from being outside in the wind all day but neither of them seem to care. Tommy kisses her back with a passion, like it's his last kiss. She moans into his mouth when his tongue pushes between her lips and he thinks he could have come right then and there.

“Jesus darlin’, you sound beautiful.” He pulls away to grip her ass, hauling her up into his arms, her legs wrap around his waist and he presses a kiss to her neck before he sets her down onto the couch. “I wanna hear you making those sounds all damn night.”

He climbs on top of her, kissing her feverishly again. Now he’s started he feels like he can't stop. It's been too long since he'd been kissed like this. Her warm mouth is a delightful contrast to the cold world outside, and as much as he wants to feel that warm mouth wrapped around his cock again he cant help but want to give in to the soft spot he has for her. And so he does. He begins to kiss down her neck, standing up to strip his jacket off begins a trail to her legs.

Even with the fire, the house is too cold to completely strip - so this will have to do. Besides, neither of them want to get caught in here and not be able to escape quickly. As much as he wants to kneel down between her thighs and make her legs shake, he knows he’s going to have to wait. He pulls her jeans down just enough to be able to slip his hand into her underwear. A breathy moan of his name that she lets out, when he reaches her wetness, hits his ear and makes him shiver. She feels it, and she can also feel how hard he is against her thigh.

“You’re already soaked, sweetheart.” He whispers before biting into her earlobe, she moans as he circles her clit. “You’re gonna have to be quiet for me baby. Can you do that?”

She nods as he pushes a single finger inside of her. His finger pauses as he hums a “hm?” into her ear, lifting his head to look into her eyes. He wants her to answer, wants to hear her voice shake. She looks so small under him, caged into the sofa. He wants to fuck her so badly but he loves to tease. He wants to hear how pretty she sounds when she begs.

“Yes!” She sounds breathless, moving her hips to try and get him to do something.

“What do you want? Hm? Ask me.”

“More! Please, Tommy.” She moves her hips again as she speaks.

“Yeah?” He sounds so condescending as he slides a second finger into her and begins to stroke her walls. God hes an asshole, she fucking loves it. He loves it too. He has a huge grin on his face as he builds up a rhythm with his fingers. Watching her reactions closely as she writhes underneath him.

“I want you to come all over my fingers.” He says, his other hand coming up to grip her face - his fingers squeezing her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. “And then im gonna fuck the shit outta you. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

His fingers are still moving, they feel so perfect inside of her and she can feel a heat building in her stomach. She reaches up to claw at his arm, he’s confused for a second and almost stops what he's doing, even though he can feel her pussy squeezing around his fingers, before he realizes what she wants.

“Holy shit.” He grins as he moves his hand to grip her throat. Her moans get louder, the sight of her being choked by his hand almost makes him finish in his pants. “You’re so fuckin’ dirty baby. You gonna come for me so i can fuck you?”

“Yes!” She whimpers, “I want you so bad, Tommy.”

The groan he lets out at her words is enough to have her moaning his name as she finishes around his hand, his grip on her throat tightens just enough to make her feel a little lightheaded. She doesn’t remember anyone ever making her feel this good. What a fuck up, the man who kidnapped her in an apocalypse is the one to give her the best orgasm of her life with just his fingers - and he hasn’t even fucked her yet.

“Oh my god, Tommy.” She laughs. He laughs too, it’s beautiful. She almost forgets about the situation they’re in.

“Stand up for me, baby.” He presses one last kiss to her lips before he stands up, she follows - waiting for him to do something. His large hands cradle her waist and maneuvers her so she's standing in front of him. His strong back pressed to her chest, the arm of the couch is in front of her and one of his hands pressed on the small of her back to bend her over the couch.

She can’t believe this is happening right now, neither can he. They're both basically fully clothed, she's bent over a dirty couch in a run down house. The fire is still crackling beside them when he pushes into her without warning. She surges forward, grasping the couch in front of her as she sighs his name.

“So fuckin’ tight, babygirl.” He moans from behind her, hissing through his teeth.

“Please move, Tommy.” She hisses, “You feel so good.”

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you baby.” He sighs as he begins to thrust into her. Her pussy squeezing him is almost too much. It’s been way too long, given that it’s hard to find someone to fuck in the apocalypse. She looks so good bent over in front of him.

“I can’t wait to fuck you properly.” He says, his fingers grip her hips harder as he speeds up his thrusts. “Can’t wait to have you naked in front of me, I’ll fuckin’ worship you, darlin’.”

His words go straight to her pussy, intensifying the fire growing in her stomach. Her hand reaches down to rub her clit, her hand at an awkward angle since her jeans still weren’t pulled all the way down. Just enough for Tommy to be able to fuck her.

“What do you need, baby? Ask for it.” He says when he notices her hand, stopping his movements all together.

“Please don’t stop.” She whines below him. “I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He grinds into her, relishing in the way she whimpers below him. “You wanna cum?”

“Yes! Please, Tommy!”

He grabs a handful of her hair and tugs, pulling her up so her back is pressed tight to his chest. It completely changes the angle of his cock inside of her and she whimpers his name in a way that makes his cock ache. He wraps his whole arm around her neck and she brings her hands up to grip his bicep.

“Beg for it.” He whispers into her ear.

“Please.” She whispers. Moving her hips to try and get him moving.

“Pathetic.” He says, squeezing his arm tighter around her neck. “You can do better.”

“Please make me cum, Tommy. I need it.” Her voice is strained from the pressure he’s putting on her throat. He thinks she’s never sounded sexier. “I wanna feel you cum. I want you to fill me up, please.”

“Jesus,” He snarls as he begins to slam back into her. “I wish I could, baby. You’d look so sexy with my cum dripping out of you. You’d love that wouldn’t you?”

“Yes!” She cries, “Yes, I'd love it! Please!”

“Don’t worry baby, I've got you. Come on, cum for me.”

She does as he says, as always. And finishes around his cock with a scream of his name. He thrusts into her a few more times and pulls out of her, shoving her forwards into the couch. She doesn’t question him as he slams his hands onto her shoulders and turns her around to roughly shove her to her knees in front of him.

“Open your pretty mouth, baby.” He groans breathlessly, his hand fisting his cock. The sight of him getting himself off with his hand makes a new wave of wetness rush between her thighs. She obediently opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue, looking up at him and watching as his brows knit together as he comes. The moan that leaves him is delicious and actually makes her feel proud of herself. His cum lands on her tongue and he pants at the sight before him.

“You look beautiful like this, fuck.” He says. He’s out of breath - now Tommy likes to believe that he has good stamina. But he also believes that the sight before him would be enough to make anyone breathless.

She remembers how he had told her to swallow the night before, and she brings her tongue back into her mouth to let his seed drip down her throat. He’s shocked. And he’s still kind of hard and honestly, he wants to fuck her again. But he remembers the world he’s in, and remembers they will need to get moving in the morning. So he cradles her jaw in his hands and guides her up to her feet. Tilting her head up to kiss her deeply. It’s almost soft, almost loving.

When they pull away neither of them know what to say. They stare into each other's eyes for a second and she almost looks like she wants to say something but Tommy beats her to it.

“So, uhm,” He begins to tuck his cock back into his pants as he speaks. “So, we’ll get moving in the morning. You should get some rest.”

He’s awkward again, her heart breaks as she watches him revert back to the man who had kept her in the basement. The man who had just fucked her slowly fading into the darkness.

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” She mumbles, doing the button on her own jeans back up.

“I’ll keep watch for a bit, but uh - we should be fine.” He sits down on the couch, reaching for the gun he had put down and props it up beside him on the couch. He sits back and spreads his thighs as he gets comfy. She doesn’t really know what to do. She kind of just stands and stares at him. He looks at her and stares back for a good few seconds. Why the fuck was this awkward? He sighs and reaches his arm out to her.

“Come here.” He says, a lot softer than she’s ever heard him sound before. She takes the hint and steps timidly towards the couch, sitting down beside him and letting him wrap his arm around her. He guides her head to his shoulder. They sit there for a minute in a comfortable silence. He shocks her, yet again, when he reaches down to pick up her jacket and places it over her body like a blanket. She feels like she has whiplash right now - what the fuck is going on?

“Stop thinking. Go to sleep.” He says, his hand squeezes her shoulder and she cuddles up to him. The same thing is going through Tommy’s head. What the fuck was he doing? He can tell her to stop thinking all he likes, but he can’t stop himself. And that’s what he does for most of the night until he sees the soft light of the day begin to stream through the crack underneath the door - he thinks.