#I also knew him from the movie Frequency I loved him in that

[scottishaccentsareawesome]

RIP Andre Braugher

#rip andre braugher #b99 #b99 cast #captain raymond holt #of course he was in so much more than just b99 but this is what I always knew him best from #I also knew him from the movie Frequency I loved him in that #andre braugher

[lovebotmo]

like the movies

chapter four - the feathered visitor

series masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 1675

author's note: so so grateful that you guys are enjoying the story so far!!! its been incredible to be inspired and motivated when it comes to writing. i appreciate those who let me know they want to be on the taglist - lmk if anyone else wants to be added!!!

also if i missed someone my apologies!!! first time putting a tag list together hehe

song inspiration: how sweet it is (to be loved by you) by marvin gaye

Clambering into the compartment containing your friends after separating from Theo, you are greeted with expectant silence. Ten eyes peer at you with varying emotions; curiosity, caution, surprise, excitement, and intrigue all seem to swim in the faces of your dear friends.

Slapping your hands onto your knees, you smile nervously at them. “Well, what is it?”

“Don’t keep us waiting!” urges Hannah, who’s practically vibrating with excitement. “What was that all about? Running after Nott of all people.”

Your brows furrow unconsciously, “What d’you mean?”

Ginny laughs at your apparent confusion. “Nuh uh, Y/n. We all saw you go after Nott, no need to be coy now.” She winks cheekily at you. “Are you two seeing each other?”

You sputter at her brashness, “Me and Theo? There’s—”

“It’s Theo now, is it?” Padma asks. “When did he become Theo, eh?” Padma nudges your shoulder with her own.

“Oh, shove it, Pads!” You could practically feel the red rising in your face and neck at the undivided attention now being paid to your very short, tiny, essentially minimal interaction with a male specimen. You felt like a research subject whenever your friends interrogated you like this. “I was just worried Theo was going to miss the train—a very normal thing to be worried about considering he’s my potion partner and I bloody well can’t use his brain if he’s stranded in Hogsmeade! Besides,” you said, pulling at the sleeves of your wooly sweater, “that fight between Malfoy and him looked downright awful.” At that, the girls abruptly halted their aggressive probing, uneasily remembering the spat that had taken place very publicly in The Three Broomsticks. All, except for Luna, who continued to peer at you with that typical all-knowing, dreamy look of hers that seemed to suggest she knew better.

As if there’s anything going on between Theo and me. I barely know the guy…or almost barely know him…kind of know him?

Shaking the disorganized thoughts from your head, you turned to the girls to continue the conversation that had abruptly stopped at the tavern. A train ride filled with trolley sweets, gossip, and uncontrollable laughter soon led to your arrival at Hogwarts, just in time for the evening meal.

Retiring to your room shortly after dinner, you found that your housemates’ beds were empty. You guess that they were likely meandering around the grounds before curfew. You savored the silence and stillness of the room. However, all too soon, it was interrupted by an odd sort of sound.

Clink.

At first you ignored it, thinking something had just shifted in your room.

Clink…Clink.

This time, your eyes swept across the room, searching for whatever could be causing that sound. It didn’t sound like a water drip, someone in heels, or even coins moving around in a coin purse.

Clinkclinkclinkclink!

As the sound increased in volume and frequency, you realized it was coming from the window of all places, even though you were elevated relatively high in the tower containing your bedchamber. That is to say, no person could have been outside your room without the aid of a broom or the flying charm. You cursed under your breathe that the window was glazed, meaning you couldn’t see what lay on the other side. Undergoing a momentary crisis of whether you should open the window, you decided in a split-second to just open it and hope for the best. However, you made sure to grab your wand.

Can’t be too careful now, can we, Y/n?

Your hand grasped at the brass handle, quickly swinging the frame open. An autumnal evening gust of wind greeted you, along with something else.

What the fuck.

Perching on your windowsill, was a quaint tawny owl peering at you rather oddly. The bird cocked its brown and white feathered head as you did the same.

What the devil is a bloody owl doing up here? “I don’t suppose you intended to come up here, did you?” Looking at the owl, you noticed it was clutching something in its claws, a small parcel of sorts. “Is that for me?”

As if answering, the owl flew past you and landed on your desk. Its head cocked once more as if wondering whether you were going to join it or not. Realizing you were standing dumbly in front of the window and letting all the warm air out, you shut it. You did not lock it, however, anticipating that your feathered friend would be departing shortly.

You joined the owl at your desk, sitting in your chair. You were now eye level with the mysterious bird, its dark eyes gazing into your own.

“May I?” you inquired, gesturing towards the little package in its clutches. The fowl relented, gently releasing it onto the wood of your desk. Before allowing yourself to rip into the bundle, you pulled out a small cannister of crickets you kept in one of your desk drawers for when you visited your own owl in the aviary. Lightly placing it in front of the owl, you allowed it to treat itself while opening the unknown gift.

Inside, you found a small package of caramel creams, just like those you had gifted to Mr. Flume a few short hours ago.

“How…?” You looked to the bird who was still pleasing itself with your offering of crickets.

You couldn’t begin to wonder at who would have known to gift you that particular candy, who would have noticed your quick interaction among the thick throng of students that had filled Honeydukes earlier. No one had stood out to you in the little time you had spent in the candy store, wholly preoccupied with your candy exchange.

Where could they have even bought it from? It’s not like Mr. Flume even stocks this specific sweet, no matter how much I may beg the man to.

“You must have been flying for ages to bring these to me, I reckon.”

“Hoot.”

Laughing at the short, clipped response of the owl, your eyes noticed a small piece of parchment paper within the parcel. Grasping and opening it quickly, your eyes were met with the same script you had seen on the previous note that had accompanied the moly bouquet currently residing on your nightstand. Once more, the note was succinct and saccharine.

Y/n,

Sweets for you, sweetheart.

Yours,

Teddy

“Seems your owner fancies me,” you said to the owl as you carefully refolded the note. “I don’t suppose you would be able to give me a clue as to who they are?”

“Hoot.”

Sighing, you replied, “Alright, alright. I won’t badger you for answers.” You rose from your chair, intending to allow the plumed messenger to return to the aviary. The bird flew from its perch on your desk to your shoulder, its head gently rubbing against your cheek. You smiled at the little show of affection. Once more, you opened your window, allowing your avian visitor to rejoin the skies. Looking back at the caramel creams and clutching the note to your chest, a warm feeling began to leak out of your heart. Whoever your admirer was, he was rather…sweet.

A few caramel creams later, you were sprawled on your bed and surrounded by your friends as you recounted the entire rendezvous with the tawny owl. You shared the sweets among your friends, but you kept the contents of the note to yourself. Your friends had already seen the first note and none of them had recognized the handwriting. There was no harm done, really.

Besides, you thought, it’s kind of nice to keep something between just me and this elusive ‘Teddy.’

“You didn’t recognize the owl, did you?” asked Ginny. “Godric knows everybody can tell when I’ve sent an owl. That bloody bird, Errol, is hard to miss.” She gives you a vexed look that makes you chuckle.

“No, it looked like any other owl I’d have seen in the aviary. Anyway, there are hundreds of owls here, they’re not exactly easy to differentiate.”

“Well,” Padma says, “at the very least, we know that your little admirer is a third year or older.”

Hannah’s face shows her confusion, “How do you figure?”

“They were in Honeydukes, weren’t they?” Padma shrugs, “Whoever he is, he has to be, at minimum, thirteen years old to go to Hogsmeade.”  

Groaning, you flop back onto your bed, hands covering your face in dismay. “Blimey, I hadn’t even considered it might be someone younger than me. What if it is a third year? Fucking hell, I’ll never be able to live it down.”

Moving your hands from your face, Hermione smiles gently at you. “If it is a third year, which I seriously doubt, you’ll be gentle in letting them down. No big deal.”

“I’d be a laughingstock, ‘Mione,” you say grumpily.

“No, you won’t, Y/n,” replies Hannah. “Besides, it’s just the six of us that knows, right?”

“About that…” Ginny looks at you sheepishly. “I may or may not have possibly, accidentally let it slip when I was perhaps…potentially talking with Lavender…”

The redhead’s confession gets you to shoot up quickly from your horizontal position. “You did what?” You toss at a pillow at her, which, with her incredible athleticism, she easily intercepts. You frown. “Lavender is possibly the worst gossip I’ve ever met. I’d be surprised if Filch didn’t know about it.”

“It was an accident, promise!” Ginny exclaims, “Lavender asked if you were seeing anybody—I think she’s interested in Lee Jordan—so, I suppose she was trying to determine whether or not you were—”

“Ginny.”

“…Yes, Y/n?”

“I’m going to give you until the count of three.”

“Count of three—what for?”

“One.”

“Oh please, Y/n. I didn’t mean to—”

“Two.”

“For the love of Merlin—”

“Three.” At your last count, you sprint at the girl who starts to run from you as you chase her with your wand. She sharts to shriek with laughter, dashing as far from your incurrent wrath as possible.

“You’re going to get it, Weasley!”

taglist: @melllinaa, @randomgurl2326, @lovelyygirl8, @abaker74, @mypolicemanharryyy, @vanevafu, @laceandsuch, @agent-tempest, @themarauderswife7 & @adoraspace

#ginny is so silly #mine #lovebotmo writing #harry potter #harry potter au #lovebotmo #slytherin boys #theo nott imagine #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott fic #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theo nott #harry potter fandom #hp fanfic #Spotify

[zsakuva]

How do you come up with so many intricate plots and characters? They seem so… human? I’m very surprised you don’t read much! I guess what I’m asking is, what’s your creative process? Do you take inspiration from aspects of yourself, or is it more of a form of escapism? When you write your plots, do you imagine yourself as the character, the audience, or both? 

Another thing that truly amazes me and makes your channel stand out a lot is the way you give the listener a voice. It feels like each listener is so different and unique, and *actually* interacts with the character. It also feels like you’re never spoon feeding us information? All the questions do get answered, but it’s different style imo. Usually, in most ASMR RPs I’ve heard, the speaker will repeat what you said verbatim, (eg. “You think XXX?”, or “You want me to XXX?”), and the frequency at which these types of phrases are used makes it *seem* like a RP. Of course, it’s a challenging medium - the audience needs to know whats going on somehow, but you manage to achieve the same in a much more subtle way. It makes me wonder how long you spend planning out your content haha.

Final question, do you prefer to type or handwrite your plans, scripts, etc? I’ve always preferred planning on paper, even though it’s a bit impractical haha. Also, would you mind showing us your handwriting? I think it says a lot about a person! There’s the stereotype that people usually have a certain handwriting that corresponds to their major/occupation, and if I remember correctly, I think you studied film? I’m just curious hehe. No pressure, of course!

Sorry for sending you an essay, I hope you have a restful and comfy Friday! 

Thank you!

Honestly, I don't know how I do it myself considering my memory is absolute shit! Though I don't read much, I learn about characters through other mediums such as television shows and movies. I'll try and break this down for ease of reading!

~My Creative Process~

When making a character or series, it all depends on where my initial inspiration began. For example, with Niall, I wanted to create an M4M series exploring a character who carries trauma of being forcibly outed, betrayed by someone he confided in, and how those events affected him through his adult life. The core of Niall's story was confronting fears that manifested due to the Listener's actions in school, and finding that there was a way to heal, albeit slowly, and a hope to love despite external animosity. Niall exists because I wanted to tell a particular story.

With Zaros, he first came about because of The Noble Trials plot. I knew that he would be different from other characters, so I'm using this series as a means of testing my skill with a new editing style, story format, and new world setting. Although it's more work, I have the most fun with The Noble Trials and making its lore (though I'm always a sucker for that)!

I go into creating characters with the belief that they are all extremely flawed. Whether that be by nature or nurture, there will inevitably be some slew of events in their pasts that shaped the way they act in the current timeline. This also extends to the Listeners so they aren't rigid, boring, and an empty shell. Characters can clash, but they can also change with and for each other. A good example is Isaac's story. He was scarred by his past, and was willing to confine Pickle in the house if it meant not losing someone he cared for again. Pickle was also scarred with abandonment and instability, wondering if they would ever find a home. Isaac gave them a place to belong, and Pickle gave him consolation and courage to face the unknown.

When I write, the character's actions must reflect the backstory in which they were crafted, so I always need to dive into their heads.

~Listener Dialogue~

This requires much more thought to make interactions seem authentic, but there's a fine line between repeating words verbatim and not alluding to any sort of context. I dislike repeating the Listener's words so I try to indirectly insinuate what they were saying whenever possible. If I can do so with SFX alone, that's a bonus! But when scenes contain heavy dialogue, it can be difficult to get the message across without being heavy-handed with repetition, unless that's the purpose of a specific moment.

~Handwriting vs Typing~

I always handwrite my outlines! On some occasions, I can start and finish a script without the help of one, but my workflow tends to include writing an outline of some kind, and it has to be done on paper! I feel like the ideas manifest quicker that way.

However, I always type my scripts. It's much easier to edit, share with other voice actors, and there's a level of professionalism in formatting that motivates me to write more!

Here is an example of my writing. This screenshot was part of a Twitch stream!

#zsakuva #sakuverse #audio roleplay #boyfriend audios

[hueningshaped]

★ heart shaped | c.sb

▰ genre: comfort, tinge of angst, fluff

▰ word count: 2.5k

▰ synopsis: soobin wishes that you’d talk about your feelings to him more and funnily enough an opportunity opens up for you to open up + tough on outside, soft on inside x softie inside out dynamic + love + babe + darling etc usage

a/n: try not to make a fic without yn crying in one challenge failed haha this one was self indulgent and written while i was high so we’ll see how you guys like it also feel free to come into my inbox and yell at me and whatnot 💗 + here’s a mini playlist for this one even though it’s definitely not long enough to warrant a playlist haha

Soobin felt like he should have known better. It could be hard to understand the person he was in love with was still closed off, even after so much history together. Still, having already gotten to know you past your many layers and facades had not come with comprehending the very reason you cried for certain things.

He respected the fact that you did not talk about your feelings often because you had a habit of discussing everything else; Soobin felt it would be better to wait for you to ever bring it up, even if his heart hurt a little for you.

These frequencies of tears weren’t for everything, which would have made sense in his eyes. The thought of him crying more frequently than you made him laugh, but for certain things, all was sure of was that it confused the life out of him.

As the denominator of your relationship, you were the steady to his stormy seas, solid, sobering, and wise. Your face without a smile could look menacing to others but to Soobin, you still looked like an angel. You weren’t easily swayed by most things that swayed the great Soobin, so sometimes he felt dramatic and annoying to you.

When he would feel inadequate and weak due to how often he was expressing torrential waves of emotions, you were always quick to reassure him and make him feel valid, twisting the dialogue to fix the blame. After all, you were the one who cried at the randomest of situations.

Even if he did push through this patch of feelings, Soobin only wanted to know how you felt. He wished to cling to you unrelentingly, and how could you blame him?

To him, you were his constant, though; he respected that. Deep inside, he was grateful beyond reason that you remained by his side, unswayed in a sea of darkness and unknown. He could never understand what it must like to be a mundane person dating a celebrity: the leader of a busy, hardworking group. All he knew was that he loves you, and if there ever came a day where he didn’t make it known to you that he’s thankful for you, then he had failed you.

So, even with a mistake wrought by the lack of your shared feelings and thoughts that Soobin feels obligated to know and find himself, he felt like he had done you wrong.

But his guilt came second to you, in this and any other scenario.

The television was on its fourth auto played video past the trigger of your sudden emotions, and Soobin was still rubbing large, comforting circles into your back.

He frowned, feeling more at fault since it was all going so good.

It was a Monday night, so Soobin had chosen to come to you, rather than you to him, after his schedule was finished surprisingly early. You picked him up from work, made dinner together once you were home, and by the time it was time to clean the kitchen, he couldn’t keep distance from you and wanted nothing more than to cuddle.

“Come on, baby. Let me finish the dishes!” You scolded without much fire as he did his best to cling to you like a koala.

“You weren’t supposed to do them in the first place,” his voice was muffled since he had planted his face into your neck. “Please lay with me. We can clean later.”

So, of course, you gave in to his sweet, little antics.

Typical night.

But, instead of watching movies or anime, you opted for some of your favorite releases and performances from your boyfriend’s group as entertainment. It was amusing, for the most part; Soobin groaned since he was so flustered and curled into your neck, but it was funny to hear his commentary, too, about moments and memories from filming.

But, once a certain music video came on, you were trying to change it as casually as possible.

“Nah, why do you want to change it? Why do you want to change it, hm?” He rubbed his nose against yours, giggling, while lifting the control with his long limbs so as to put it outside of your reach.

You were starting to sweat. It was hard to pretend you weren’t determined to get it back. The volume was at a range that it battled with the equivalence of yours and his speaking.

“Come on, babe, what’s so bad about this song? Is it because you wanted the Japanese version? Let’s just watch it. Don’t you like me in my volleyball outfit? Remember — you said I looked so cute!”

All it took was the Drama music video, and one moment it was Soobin teasing you, with his hands around your waist, the next you were tearing up and sniffling.

He drew a sharp intake of breath at how fast and how much tread your tears were rolling down your face, drawing lines that glistened in the dim light of your living room.

“Hey, I’m just kidding,” he turned the television off in one fluid movement. His voice was down to a mutter, barely above a whisper. You had your face in your hands, utterly embarrassed that you were being this way. His hand was flat on your cheek, gently angling so you were face to face. “Come here, darling. I’m just kidding. It’s okay, you’re okay. I promise.”

He rubbed tirelessly at your shoulder and arms, tightly holding your body to himself until you winded down.

The broken cries diminished eventually. So, finally after composing yourself and getting over the fact that you just sobbed over a random video, you mustered up the courage to look up at Soobin.

His dimples joined his nice grin, even though it wobbled and his eyes were reddening.

“I don’t like seeing you cry, Y/N,” he wiped a few stray tears, especially the ones with dried paths on your cheeks. The moment was then filled with him continuing to hold you, gentle squeezes from both yours and his part, silence broken occasionally by your sniffles and bashful chuckles.

Moments like these, when your aloof expression was broken, Soobin comforted you as he needed to, but he never made it a point to press on why. The contradictions of your emotions and facade would throw him off, but still, he never wanted to make you uncomfortable.

All he ever wanted was the opposite.

“Sorry,” you managed with a stuffed nose. He frowned and you sat up, loosened from his grip. Soobin remained peering at you with a serene expression, but gaze heavy enough that implied that he was ready for whatever conversation was going to happen. “Fine, I… I’m emotional.” You cracked, and he arched an eyebrow, more so in disbelief.

“I’m not a fan of talking about my feelings, but I’m a cry baby,” your explanation was weak, but all he did was blink. “It’s embarrassing to me to talk about stuff like this, especially things that are long gone in the past, but I just get upset — and I can’t help it — when I see…certain things.”

You didn’t realize you were frowning until Soobin cupped your face, thumb brushing your bottom lip. He gave a squeeze to your cheek, letting his hand drop until it took yours into his own.

“Keep going,” he whispered, encouraging you to continue. This was a major milestone in his eyes, and he wanted you to speak as much as you could, while also showing you that you were more than welcome to do so, as well.

Soobin knew that something particular about his music video had triggered your influx of emotions. He figured it out before turning the television off.

“Beomgyu’s a good actor, huh?” He quipped, leaning forward.

Hesitantly, you nodded in agreement, and it was then that his suspicion were confirmed.

“Almost as if he knows that role as well as I do,” you mumbled, voice just coherent enough to be caught by your frowning boyfriend.

“Hang on,” he whispered more to himself. You moved your body to completely face him, and he mirrored your action. He beckoned you with a nod. “Now, tell me more, lovely. I want you to feel comfortable enough to share this part of yourself with me often. I want you to feel more comfortable around me.”

So you did. Tearfully, you explained how much of your life was spent friendless and even if you had struck dumb luck, you would always inevitably find yourself abandoned or put last. You saw yourself in this Beomgyu each and every time no matter how hard you tried. It was normal for humans to have the ability to hurt, but the people you’d met throughout your life seemed to only want to do so.

Soobin was amazed at the courage, the strength, the tenacity you’ve always had and were showing with how you spoke about it. He held your hands in his giant ones, curling his warm fingers round yours gingerly.

“So, sometimes I know I might come off as a jerk, but there’s so much going on in my head and I like to think that you’re too good for me so you’re just inevitably going to leave and I-I might as well arrange that now before I get too comfortable with you, just like always!” Your mouth was moving so fast and the warmth was once again running down your cheeks. Soobin’s bottom lip trembled and he shook his head incessantly once you were done; your words wouldn’t stop repeating in his mind.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered before gently guiding your face into his chest, and your shoulders visibly sagged at that. He let your cries wrack your body. He was so close to you. It felt as if though he were doing his best to catch every little shake and sob that would drop on you. You continued crying but it felt so relieving, so that only made you cry more.

“I’m sorry I made you feel this way, Y/N. I really, really am,” you weren’t allowed a word in as he pulled you away to meet your eyes. You made everything so difficult for him, so how dare he apologize for that? “I’m the luckiest person ever because I have you. I love you too much to ever even think of leaving. Again, I’m sorry that I take you for granted. You’re so wonderful to me. I know I’m just saying words, but really, I care about you so much. Is that okay?”

“Oh, okay,” you spoke without realizing, but once you did, you shriveled up with a groan against him.

“Sorry, I um, I just uh…” you had to calm down, and so did Soobin. His heart was racing in his chest. You’d never been this vulnerable and soft, besides your tender moments. It was so new to Soobin, but he welcomed it lovingly. He loved being taken care of, nor did he doubt you would ever stop, but he enjoyed being able to soothe you and care for you just as you did for him.

Even as you sputtered, he couldn’t fight the big smile on his face. You knew he meant every fluctuation, every taut muscle used to grin when his own eyes were so bright and glowing.

“You’ve never done anything that made me doubt your feelings, okay, Soobin?” Your voice was louder than intended, but that made his body shake and vibrate, with chuckles, under your hands. He nodded to every word you said, which assured you. “You’re perfect and you have the weight of the world on your hands, and my brain just makes me overthink and try to sabotage this one good thing it’s given me.”

Soobin sniffled and wiped his nose with the underside of his sleeve, still meeting your eyes.

“Soobin, I’m happy after all these years that I finally have someone, or multiple someones, that treat me like a friend. I just need to work on showing it. I hope you forgive me.” He moved some hair out of your face before cupping your cheek once more. His other hand went down to your side.

“You’re the sweetest thing ever. You’ve never wronged me, honey,” you poured and he poked your protruding lip in response. “I just want you to feel comfortable around me. I want you to feel yourself because I love you.”

You nodded with a dramatic whine in your throat, making him laugh a little more. He loved seeing this side of you.

“And I love you. Very, very much.” You leaned in to softly press a few, long-lasting kisses on his cheeks, the tops of his ears, his forehead, his nose, and finally on his mouth.

When you pulled away, Soobin could only blink with his eyes wide and pupils blown. Oh, he really loved seeing this side of you.

He recognized the cause of being able to see you in this new light, which induced a pang of guilt, but he also knew you were fighting your own guilty feelings.

Although he had only blinked twice since you moved back from him, Soobin immediately jumped to chase after your lips with his. He wasn’t as shy this time when you usually kissed; this time, he slotted his mouth against yours in a way that didn’t permit you to even move away.

However, after what seemed minutes, he pulled off from your heated face, allowing you to gasp quietly for air.

“You’re my baby now, Y/N.” He teased shyly, suddenly sheepish but bold in his reciprocation.

“Thanks to Beomgyu,” you teased, and he sank back into his seat at that, so you both faced the television which played one of their variety show episodes. “I don’t think I ever would have had the guts to tell you how I really felt if it weren’t for the music video…that you forced us to watch.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that, baby,” you melted in his arms, at him officially calling you that. “I’m proud of you for still telling me. I’m thankful.”

You hummed at that, and he copied you, enjoying the return of the little fires in your eyes.

“Are there any other videos we have that make you cry?” Soobin wondered aloud after minutes of him now lying his head on your lap and your fingers through his hair. His long legs hung over the edges of the sofa.

“Well, yeah,” you confirmed, not meeting his eyes. He widened his eyes.

“Which ones?”

“Ugh,” you groaned and looked up at him, hesitating to speak. “Well, the Eternally music video, and the Drama trailer video… the one where you, you know…”

The dots connected slowly in his head.

“The one where I cry at the big table?”

You nodded and grabbed his hand to put it against your face.

“Aw, baby,” he emphasized the name, and you whined. “You don’t like seeing me cry either?”

“Of course not! Only out of joy!”

He smiled so hard again, his face was starting to hurt.

“You’re the sweetest thing,” he said once more. “And I feel special knowing you’re just this way with me. Thank you, baby.”

You blushed and gave his hand a squeeze. You could definitely get used to being babied by Soobin.

#soobin #soobin imagines #soobin x reader #soobin fluff #txt angst #txt x reader #txt fluff #tomorrow x together imagines #txt imagines #txt scenarios #tomorrow x together x reader

[taedeco]

Pairing: taehyun x beomgyu

Synopsis: taehyun is madly in love with his straight best friend, beomgyu. so in love he starts coughing up flower petals and blood, poppy flower petals to be precise, gyu's favourite. taehyun knew beomgyu could never reciprocate his feelings and so he has to choose— choose between surgery, and forever losing all his love for beomgyu, or, the inevitable, death.

Genre: hanahaki, angst

Warnings: mcd, mentions of blood,

do let me know if I missed any!

wordcount: 539

Taehyun's heart fluttered erratically as he watched Beomgyu laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his smile lighting up the room. Taehyun's fingers itched to reach out and trace the contours of Beomgyu's face, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath his touch. But he knew better. Beomgyu was his best friend, and nothing more. No matter how deeply Taehyun's heart ached for him.

As weeks turned into months, Taehyun's feelings for Beomgyu only grew stronger, more consuming. He found himself daydreaming about their future together, about confessing his love and hearing Beomgyu say those three precious words in return. But reality always came crashing down, reminding him of the impossible: Beomgyu was straight.

One evening, as they sat side by side on Beomgyu's couch, watching a movie, Taehyun felt a sharp pain in his chest. At first, he dismissed it as heartburn, but when he coughed into his hand, he saw bright red petals mixed with blood. Panic surged through him as he realized what was happening.

Hanahaki.

He'd heard of it before, a rare condition that afflicted those with unrequited love. And now, he was its latest victim. Tears welled up in Taehyun's eyes as he struggled to hide his coughing fit from Beomgyu. He couldn't let him see. Couldn't let him know.

But as the days passed, Taehyun's condition only worsened. He coughed up petals with increasing frequency, each one a painful reminder of his unrequited love. Poppy petals. Beomgyu's favorite flower.

Desperate for a cure, Taehyun turned to the internet, scouring forums and medical websites for answers. But the treatments were grim: surgery to remove the flowers and erase his memories of Beomgyu, or a slow, agonizing death as the flowers choked the life out of him.

Taehyun couldn't bear the thought of forgetting Beomgyu, of losing the memories they'd shared together. But he also couldn't bear the thought of leaving this world knowing that Beomgyu would never love him back.

Night after night, Taehyun lay awake in bed, grappling with his impossible choice. He couldn't bring himself to tell Beomgyu the truth, couldn't burden him with the knowledge of what his love had wrought. So he suffered in silence, his heart breaking a little more with each passing day.

One evening, as Taehyun lay on his deathbed, surrounded by wilted poppies, Beomgyu sat beside him, holding his hand. "I'm sorry, Taehyun," he whispered, tears streaming down his face. "I never knew. I never realized how much you loved me."

Taehyun managed a weak smile, reaching up to brush away Beomgyu's tears. "It's okay," he said hoarsely. "I never expected you to love me back. Just having you as my friend was enough."

Beomgyu squeezed Taehyun's hand tightly, his shoulders shaking with sobs. "I wish I could have been more for you," he said brokenly.

But Taehyun shook his head, his vision blurring with tears. "You were everything," he whispered. And with those final words, he closed his eyes, his hand going limp in Beomgyu's grasp.

As Beomgyu wept over Taehyun's lifeless body, he vowed to never forget the love they shared, even if it was only ever one-sided.

And somewhere, in a field of blooming poppies, Taehyun's spirit soared free, finally at peace.

note: this is a short version/drabble of a story I've had on my wip for a while :D hope you liked it!!

thank you for reading, have a lovely day ♡

hanahaki art by gesso912 on twt!

divider by @cold--carnage

#niccistories #tomorow x together #taegyu #taehyun #beomgyu #hanahaki

[spacepunksupreme]

hii hannah! i consider you a 007 expert, so i wondered if you could recommend which bond movie i should watch, like in which is he the sluttiest whumpiest bitch ever?👀👀

Ooooooough okay first off, thank you lol I’m so honored.

Short answer: I think you might enjoy Pierce Brosnan’s Bond the best, he gets beat down a lot but his movies still have a good balance of goofy/serious. He is also drenched in water with hilarious frequency, truly wet and pathetic. And definitely the sluttiest Bond to me.

Therefore I’d recommend Goldeneye (1995) ! The main villain has the most “you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid” feelings towards Bond, and his right hand (arm. man.) henchwoman’s whole deal is that she loves to crush men to death with her thighs which she subjects Bond to at least twice lol.

Long answer: I’ll also rec a few others with various Bond actors though so you can like pick your choice of vibe and intensity if Goldeneye doesn’t seem like your thing since the Bond franchise covers the entire range of silly to serious. Under the cut vvv

Unfortunately some of Pierce Brosnan’s truly sluttiest moments are in his two shittiest movies lol. That being said if you really just wanna have fun seeing Bond get tossed around and don’t care as much about the quality of the plot then you could also check out The World is Not Enough (1999) or Die Another Day (2002). The World is Not Enough has a great torture scene where he’s put in a ridiculous strangulation device while the villainess sits on his lap. and Die Another Day also has Bond captured and tortured in the first thirty minutes, the opening song is literally intercut with clips of him getting like sexily tortured lmao. Completely ridiculous. And post-rescue he spends a good chunk of time in hospital jammies with scruffy grown-out hair and beard getting scolded by M.

As for other Bonds:

Dr. No (1962) the very first Bond movie, actually has some pretty good scenes of Bond getting beat down. He gets knocked unconscious like at least twice, beat by henchmen, and drugged and undressed/redressed (the old pajama treatment lol) then creepily stared at in bed by the villain lol. And has a great scene where he has to crawl through a hot steam vent to escape imprisonment. Sean Connery’s Bond is the most macho though so he’s pretty stoic through it all. Somewhat slutty but not very pathetic lol.

If you wanna check out Roger Moore, The Spy Who Loved (1977) me has a pretty great fight scene in which Bond is just getting tossed around a train car by Jaws, a villain twice his size with metal teeth that he tries to bite Bond to death with lol. I personally think Roger Moore was like actually a little scared filming this scene with a man so much larger than him because he has the most animated facial expressions I’ve ever seen on him lmao. Jaws’ hand fits over his entire face and he does just grab Bond by the face more than once.

Timothy Dalton in License to Kill (1989) has a pretty good scene where he’s taken captive by the villain and given the pajama treatment as well (I believe you’ve seen the clip I’ve posted of this before lol). And gets knocked around pretty good in some of the other fight scenes throughout. Overall it’s only a decent movie though I think.

Lastly if you want to see Bond truly, truly tortured. Daniel Craig definitely gets beat up the most in general out of any of the Bonds lol, he gets nicely bloodied and disheveled in pretty much every fight scene, and Casino Royale (2006) has the uh, infamous cock and ball torture scene. The whole works in this scene: captured, stripped naked, beaten + he’s going through the entire emotional range from screaming to laughing hysterically through the pain. It’s extremely brutal though. I knew about this scene going in but it was still way more intense than I expected. Zero goofiness.

#im so sorry I cant give short answers 😂 I hope this isn’t too many options #I cannot rein myself in #in my defense there’s almost 30 Bond movies lol #forgive me also anyone who has to see this post in search results for these movies if youre only looking for gifsets lol. Im so sorry #asks #hannah is talking

[effervescentdragon]

Dunno if you’re still accepting three sentence (ha!) prompts but:

Charles/pierre + “didnt you read lord of the rings in highschool?” “No, i had sex in highschool” aka nerd boy charles and jock pierre

🐶

you fucking said this to me about star trek and i told you i both watched star trek AND had sex in hs you asshole @mssr-monagato #bestofbothworlds tho ngl st was sometimes better than the sex. also im putting this in a vaguely james bond spy au fuck it ✌️

"So, Quartermaster, what is my technical support this time?"

Charles turned in his chair, fixing his glasses as he looked up at Pierre. He looked Pierre up and down, cleared his throat, then huffed.

"Stop leaning on my desk, Double-Oh-Ten," he said snappishly. "You are messing with my organisation."

Pierre moved away, but raised his eyebrow. The desk before him looked more like someone upended a whole shelf on it. There were documents everywhere in multiple languages and with multiple levels of confidentiality, three screwdrivers and a handful of screws, at least three phones and a large number of electeonic gadgets Pierre decided to bother Charles about sometime later. There was at least one poison pen mixed with the innumerable normal ones, and Pierre counted three coffee mugs all around. Charles grimaced

"Shut up," he said, and Pierre mimed zipping his mouth closed. "You've been briefed?" Pierre nodded. "Good. Then you know that you won't be able to bring anything electronic into the mark's house because of the low-level EMP field, it will just stop working. We will have to go analogue." Charles ginned. Pierre decided his facial expression fell somewhere between utterly adorable and absolutely deranged. Then again, he was a bit biased.

"I will give you knives if -"

"I'll bring my own," Pierre interrupted. Charles rolled his eyes.

"If you are unable to bring your own." At Pierre's slow smile, he huffed. "Yes, well, I figured. The earbud is a bust, but short frequencies should work, so you better report to your back up regularly, or I will be very cross." He pinned Pierre with his eyes until he nodded as solemnly as he could make himself without overplaying it. He didn't look like he believed Pierre, which was very smart of him, but he also knew there was nothing he could do. Pierre was counting on that.

"Anyway, when you get to the safe, your main objective is to get the plans for the Palantir, so we can confirm it is what we believe it is." He scoffed. "Although that naming is so on the nose, they are either counting on us being stupid, or are bluffing their asses off."

"What do you mean?" Pierre asked. Charles paused where he was assembling an assortment of pens - poison, bomb, sedative, feom what Pierre could gather - and looked at him incredulously.

"Palantir? Like - like from The Lord of the Rings?" At Pierre's blank stare, he opened his mouth in shock. "Didn't you read Tolkien in high school?"

Pierre grinned with all his teeth.

"No, cher. I had sex in high school," he said, and Charles blushed instantly, his cheeks coloring that incredibly appealing red which made Pierre want to bite. He leaned in, lowering his voice. "As you well know."

Charles fumbled with the pen in his hand.

"Yes, well, to each their own." He adjusted his glasses. "Tell me you at least watched the movies."

"Nope." Pierre popped the p, and Charles' eyes dropped to his lips. He leaned further in, putting his hands on the mess on Charles' desk, making sure not to disrupt anything. "But I will be in a mood for a movie night when I get back."

He kept eye contact with Charles, and could basically see the cogs turning in his head. The cross around his neck suddenly felt heavy, and he wished he could grab it and perhaps send a prayer if anyone was listening, to grant him some leniency. Some happiness.

"It's a trilogy, actually," Charles said quietly. "And it would - it would take a whole day, if not the whole weekend to watch them properly."

"I would love to," Pierre said, equally as quiet. "I would - would you show me?"

Charles inhaled sharply, his eyes shifting away before they came back to rest on Pierre's, and there was something there, something Pierre has been hoping for, wishing for, since the moment Charles walked into the room full of agents as the new Quartermaster straight from Pierre's long-forgotten past and made Pierre's heart stutter and stop.

"If you - if you really want to, then yes," Charles said, and Pierre felt the weight he never dared acknowledge lift from his chest.

"I do," he said. "I wanted - I would've watched them in high school, if you wanted me to." Charles' eyes widened. Pierre laughed self-deprecatingly. "For you, I would've probably even read the damn book."

"Six books," Charles corrected automatically, then flinched. "Well, three, but - it doesn't matter."

"Charles," Pierre said, knowing he shouldn't. Not at work, where it was all codenames and security, but he didn't know how to make Charles believe him otherwise. "I would've read the whole damn library for you."

He moved his hand slowly until his pinky finger was entwined with Charles'. They both looked down at where their fingers touched, and Charles moved his own hand slowly to envelop Pierre's.

"Alright," Charles said, voice low and shaky. "Come back and we'll do a movie weekend." He paused. "A sleepover."

Like we did when we were kids, before everything that happened, happened, he didn't say, but Pierre heard it nonetheless. When he smiled, it was his first sincere smile in what felt like forever.

"I'll come back," he said, and Charles gripped his hand tighter for just a breath. "I'll come back to you."

Charles' answering smile was shy, and beautiful, and just for Pierre.

#i dont like the ending but whatever #piarles #f1 rpf #007 au #my writing #effervescentdragonwrites #partner in (occasional) crime <3

[greensparty]

Album Review: Dhani Harrison / Paul McCartney and Wings

This week I got to review an anniversary reissue from a solo Beatle and I got to review a new album from someone with Beatle DNA.

Dhani Harrison INNERSTANDING

I wish more people knew what a powerhouse phenom Dhani Harrison is! I wish people talked about him the way they talked about Jack Antonoff. He has done some fantastic work with the band Thenewno2 (I named their album Thefearofmissingout one of my Best Albums of 2012), as part of the super group Fistful of Mercy, and he has done a ton of movie soundtrack composition too. But in 2017 he released his first solo album with IN//PARALLEL (read my review here). In October 2023, his first album in six years INNERSTANDING was released digitally. This week it is getting a physical release from H.O.T. Records/BMG.

album cover and yellow vinyl

I'm going to address the elephant in the room: Dhani is the son of George Harrison. He was involved in the completion of his father’s album Brainwashed (released posthumously in 2002), was a featured performer at the Concert for George in 2002 and the George Fest in 2014 and he also helped develop The Beatles: Rock Band video game. In recent years he and his mother Olivia have also run the Dark Horse Records record label, founded by his father, and they have released albums by the likes of Billy Idol and Joe Strummer. I bring this up because that is what a lot of the attention for Dhani has been about. Any child of a much-loved musician has had to live up to their parent’s musicianship, just ask Jakob Dylan, Wolfgang Van Halen or Jason Bonham, all of whom are great musicians on their own, but had to live up to their legendary parents, which set the bar so unrealistically high. With the musical offspring of The Beatles, one can argue that you can hear their parent's sound in their music, i.e. John Lennon's influence on Sean Lennon's sound. With Dhani, his music is entirely different than George's music. It's easy to NOT compare his music to his dad.

With the first solo album, it felt like Dhani had really come into his own as a songwriter from Thenewno2. Here, it feels more grandiose and bigger in his musical approach. There's some collaborators on the album including Graham Coxon of Blur, Liela Moss of The Duke Spirit, and Mereki. There is a heavy influence from Trent Reznor and Peter Gabriel, especially on songs like "New Religion" or "Damn That Frequency". But he kind of defies a lot of genres and brings multiple styles in, sometimes within the same song. It's exciting to see Dhani emerging as not just a powerhouse phenom, but a studio production whiz!

For info on INNERSTANDING

4 out of 5 stars

Paul McCartney and Wings Band on the Run 50th Anniversary Edition

Originally released on December 5, 1973 (in the U.S.),  the third album from Wings and the fifth album Paul McCartney released since The Beatles’ 1970 breakup was released. It is considered by many to be among the best of the Beatle solo albums, up there with John Lennon’s Imagine and George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass. I'd say this is probably his best non-Beatle album he released in his impressive discography. To celebrate the 50th anniversary (this year marks 51, but it's close enough to December 2023, so who cares, right?), the album was released last week by UMe in a special edition.

original album cover

The timing of this album is coming a few months after the passing of Wings guitarist Denny Laine and this edition serves as a reminder of what an asset he was to McCartney's 1970s albums. When I interviewed Mr. Laine in 2019, I asked him what his favorite Wings album was and he said "With Band on the Run, it was just me and Paul doing the music and then Linda did some harmonies…but yeah, that’s really the one that sticks out is Band on the Run." Fully agreed! When I saw Laine at City Winery in Jan. 2019, he played the Band on the Run album in its entirety. What a treat to hear him tell loads of stories about each song.

50th anniversary double CD edition

The album itself is noteworthy for the number of Sir Paul standards: "Band on the Run", "Jet", "Let Me Roll It", the list goes on. When I saw Sir Paul at Fenway Park in June 2022, he did some of the hits off the album. There's been various versions of this album but in 2010, I got the Paul McCartney Archive Collection version, which contained bonus tracks and a bonus DVD (the Best Buy edition). That one was awesome and sounded great. With this new edition, CD1 is the original album remastered. CD2 is "Underdubbed" mixes of the songs. According to the press release, Paul said:

“This is Band on the Run in a way you’ve never heard before. When you are making a song and putting on additional parts, like an extra guitar, that’s an overdub. Well, this version of the album is the opposite, underdubbed.”

While it is interesting to hear versions of the songs pre-final mix, for those of us who know the final songs so well, it can feel like an unfinished and incomplete version of the song. I like the 2010 edition of the album better, but this one has its moments.

For info on Band on the Run

Original album: 5 out of 5 stars

50th Anniversary Edition: 3.5 out of 5 stars

#dhani harrison #paul mccartney #wings #denny laine #album review #music nerd #reissue albums #vinyl

[smellingofpoetry]

Frequency

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Crowley, Sam Winchester (mentioned)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: An old ham radio connects Dean and Y/N through time.

Warnings: character death, angst, fluff, a bit of swearing

Words count: 3489

A/N: Hi there! First of all, congratulation again to @jay-and-dean for her 3k celebration for which this story is been written. I really hope that you're going to like it. My third character is Crowley because I loved the man and it was an absolute pleasure to write about him even if for just a bit. I also had "someone is in the wrong year" and this prompt here: "I have waited for 3 years, I won’t wait one more minute." That being said, I loved to write this story. I took the idea from this movie called "Frequency". They also did a show with the same name. I loved both the movie and the tv show, I always thought it was based on a good concept so I decided to try it Supernatural style. Of course, I changed a few things but still. I really hope you guys are going to like it. Please, let me know what you think about it. Feedback is always appreciated!

Dean Winchester Masterlist - Masterlist

It was 3 in the morning and for some reason, she couldn’t sleep. She got up slowly, and quietly exited the room. She walked aimless, rubbing at her tired eyes. She was almost at the end of the corridor when she heard a strange sound coming from one of the rooms. She wasn’t even sure to have ever been in that room at all, but she could still hear the faint sound of some sort of a machine. She tilted her head to the side, frowning at the orange light coming from under the doorway. Y/N slowly opened the door peeking inside. In the middle of the room, on top of a wooden table, it was what looked like a ham radio. She walked inside the room, closing the door behind herself.

She remembered her dad having one of those radios. He spent a lot of his free time teaching her how to use it. She thought it was something silly, but now that she was standing in front of it, she was glad to her dad. She set down in front of it, starting to slowly turn the knob. The loud crackle of the radio filled the room for a few seconds. She felt a little bit stupid at that moment. She wasn’t even sure if it would work, but she pushed the microphone’s button, nonetheless.

“Hello? Is anybody there?”

They had been back for a few hours now. They managed to get back with just a few scratches and so much exhaustion. Still, he couldn’t sleep. His brain couldn’t let him rest or maybe was his soul. So, he opted to make himself busy with food and movies. It worked until it didn’t anymore. The clock read 3 am when he gave up. He was slowly going back to his room, a half-empty bottle of beer in hand when he heard it.

“Hello?”

He froze at the sound of that voice. He must have been so tired to start imagining things. At least that was what he thought until he heard it again.

“Is anybody there?”

He turned around so fast that he felt dizzy for a minute. He moved along the corridor, following the voice until he found himself in front of a door, he barely knew existed, let alone knew what was behind it. He noticed the light coming from under the doorframe before ever so slowly he opened it. He could feel his heart beating a bit faster not knowing exactly what he was going to find. He looked around the four walls, feeling disappointed to find the room empty, except for the old dusty ham radio. He sighed, shaking his head slightly. Yeah, he needed to sleep. He turned around, ready to leave the radio and the room behind.

“If you’re there, push the button on the microphone so we can talk a bit.”

He heard that voice again coming out from the machine on the table. Dean’s hand closed tightly around the bottle of beer. His knuckles turned white.

“If you want, that is.”

He glanced back at the radio trying to figure out what was happening. It couldn’t have dreamt it, right? Maybe he was so exhausted that he fell asleep without even realizing it.

“Shit, this is so stupid.”

Her words made him smile. Dean headed back towards the table. One finger brushed the button of the microphone, before pushing it.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

She waited for an answer, nervously tapping with her fingertips on the wooden table ready to give up. What was she thinking? Like someone could answer back. She sighed, getting up from the chair when the croak of the radio stopped her in her tracks.

“Y/N?”

She looked at the machine. Confusion was written all over her face.

“Is that you?”

She set down again frowning. With all the voices she would expect to hear, he was the least expected.

“Uhm… Dean?”

She asked even though she would recognize that voice anywhere.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s… it’s me.”

“Well, this is weird.”

“No, shit.”

“I wasn’t expecting you, no offense.”

Dean quickly grabbed the chair behind him, sitting down. His eyes were glued to the radio. What the hell was happening? Maybe he was finally going crazy. Whatever it was he couldn’t find the strength to walk away from that room. Not now that he had heard her voice.

“I wasn’t expecting you, no offense.”

“None taken.”

He answered back, chuckling. He stared at the radio for a few seconds, debating on what to say to her. God, there were so many things that he wanted to tell her, but he ended up settling for something easy.

“I wasn’t expecting you either, but it’s nice to hear your voice.”

Dean could hear her laugh at his words. Damn, her laugh.

“It’s not like we haven’t spoken in so long, you dork.”

He frowned, taken aback by her answer. What was supposed to answer to that? He cleared his throat, trying to think of something to say when she beat him to it.

“I’m sorry if I wake you. I thought I was being quiet enough.”

Dean swallowed hard at her words. Something wasn’t adding up and he knew that he should have left and called Sam to try to figure out what was happening. He should have, yeah, but that was easier said than done.

“Are you still there?”

He sighed, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes before answering her.

“Yeah, I’m still here, sweetheart.”

“I thought I lost you there for a minute.”

A small smile graced his lips at her words.

“You’ll never lose me, Y/N.”

He had fallen silent for a minute there and she thought that the radio had stopped working. A sigh of relief left her lips when she heard his voice again.

“You’ll never lose me, Y/N.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. And still, some weird feeling at the pit of her stomach told her that there was something there in his voice, but she couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Whatever it was he would have told her when he was ready to, like he always did. Thus, she decided to change the subject.

“So, exactly where are you located right now?”

“Uhm… I’ve no idea. I didn’t even know that this room existed until two minutes ago.”

“The one at the end of the corridor?”

“That’s the one. I bet Sammy knew about it.”

She frowned at that, glancing around the four walls that were housing her at that moment.

“Are you sure that you’re there?”

“Yes, why?”

She could feel the hesitation in his voice. She bit on her bottom lip, before pushing the microphone’s button and answering him.

“Because is where I’m right now.”

That was when she started to question herself and her choices. What was she thinking? Was it even Dean the person she was talking with? The last time she saw him, he was sleeping. At first, she thought he was communicating with her from somewhere near her, but now? She needed to end that, whatever that was.

“Uhm… you know what? I think I should go now.”

She told him, ready to turn down the radio.

“Because is where I’m right now.”

Dean straightened himself on the chair the moment he heard her words. What the fuck? He glanced around, but sure as hell he was the only one in the room. Was it someone trying to fuck with him? He snapped out of his thoughts at her next words. He hastily pushed the button before pleading with her.

“No, wait. Please, wait.”

He wasn’t sure of a lot of things, except once: he wasn’t ready to let her go. He scratched at the back of his head, trying to find a good excuse to keep her there for a few more minutes until it came to him.

“So, it seems that we are both in the same room, right? But clearly, I’m the only one in here or else I could see you. The same goes for you?”

He waited for her answer, nervously shaking up and down his leg.

“That’s correct.”

He sighed in relief when he heard her response.

“Y/N, what year are you on?”

She glanced at the door at her side, ready to bolt out of there at any given moment.

“Y/N, what year are you on?”

She froze at that. Could it be? She debated for a while on what to do, when against her better judgment she decided to answer him. It was like she couldn’t quite walk away when it came to Dean. Damn, him.

“2018.”

“I’m in 2021.”

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“That’s… how… what’s going on?”

“I don’t know. The only thing I know is that we are in the same place at the same time, but in the wrong year.”

She sighed, nodding her head fully aware that he couldn’t see her.

“So, you’re not my Dean.”

“I’m still your Dean, just with a few more bruises.”

She smiled at that, trying to picture him in the future. She had so many questions at that moment, but she didn’t know where to start so she opted for the logical one.

“Are you and Sam doing okay?”

“We’re good, saving the world one monster at the time.”

She giggled at his choice of words. She lowered her eyes after that, nervously playing with one lock of her hair. Among all the things she was curious about, there was one thing she wanted to know the most but, somehow, she was afraid to ask him.

“Y/N?”

Dean’s voice brought her back from her thoughts and she decided to take a risk. That man was still Dean. The same man with whom she was used to sharing her secrets, fears, joys.

“Are we… me and you… are we still together?”

Her heart started to beat so fast in her ribcage that she was afraid he would have spilled out at any given moment. There was a moment of silence and she started to regret her question.

“I love you like the first day and some more.”

Y/N smiled at his words. Ha was still her Dean, and yet he wasn’t. It was a subtle shade in his voice that gave it away. Someone else wouldn’t even have noticed, but she knew him like the back of her hand. That strange feeling at the pit of her stomach was suddenly back, making her smile falter. The way he spoke to her earlier; the way he pleaded her to stay; the way he deflected her last question.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gone, isn’t it?”

He forgot how easy was to talk to her, which made him miss her even more than it was possible. He also forgot how smart she was and how she could read him like an open book.

“I’m gone, isn’t it?”

That was all it took for the dam to break. Tears slid down his cheeks and he felt it: his heart broke all over again.

“It’s been three years now.”

He whispered slowly with misty eyes and a heavy heart.

“I always thought that it was going to be me the first one to go, mostly because I didn’t want to imagine a world without you in it.”

He nervously nibbed the inside of his cheek before having the courage to continue.

“Now I know how the world without you looks like: darker and less warm.”

Dean told her, his hand scrubbing at his face trying to get rid of those stubborn tears.

“Empty. The world without you feel empty.”

He knew that he shouldn’t have said all of that to her. The problem was that when he lost her, he lost her lover, best friend, and partner all at once. She was the one he relies on and without her there he was lost.

“Empty. The world without you feel empty.”

That was all it took for her heart to break. To break for him. She knew that soon or later her time would have come, she made peace with that. Sure, she hoped to have a little more time, but it was what it was. What she wasn’t ready for was the pain in Dean’s voice. If she could only take his pain away.

“I lose you enough time to know what it means, but Dean even if I’m not there by your side my love is.”

She felt the tears wetting her cheeks. Damn, if that wasn’t hard.

“My love for you will never die.”

Y/N whispered to him, trying to dry her stained cheeks. She had no idea of why that radio give them the chance to talk to each other, but she was starting to think that maybe that happened because Dean needed it. He needed her. At least it was what she liked to think. If their talk could make easy his existence, then she would have been happy. She couldn’t bear the idea of him suffering.

“I don’t want to be the reason behind your tears. I want you to think of me with a smile on your face. Can you do that for me?”

She hopefully asked him.

She always knew the right thing to say to him and Dean already knew that he couldn’t deny her anything. Not even a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll do that for you, but Y/N you have to promise me something.”

He told her nervously tapping with his fingers on his right knee.

“Promise me that three days from now…”

“No, Dean. No.”

She interrupted him mid-sentence, but that didn’t even surprise him.

“No, listen to me, please.”

He heard her sigh and that was all it took to spur him to keep going.

“Three days from now you’re going on a hunt with some old friend of yours. I know… I know that I can’t tell you to not go because I already tried that with my mom, remember? We both know that didn’t work; it didn’t bring her back. Just promise me you’ll wait for me to come back. I went to help Garth with a case. I was just three minutes away. Just give me three more minutes to say goodbye; to kiss you, please.”

He pleaded with her, holding his breath while waiting for her answer.

“Three more minutes.”

He sighed in relief at her words, but the moment was suddenly broken by the croak of the radio. Dean jumped back from his seat in surprise. The radio kept on making weird noises before the light went off and everything fell silent.

“Y/N?”

Dean hastily pushed at the button trying to make it work again.

“Sweetheart, you still there? Please, keep working. Come on.”

He tried a few more times with different buttons before giving up.

“Goddamnit!”

He yelled slamming his palms on the table. She was gone again. Dean let himself fall on the chair behind him. His eyes were full of tears. He thought he had run out of tears a while ago, and yet here he was mourning for the second time the better part of him. He leaned with the elbows on his knees, his fingertips running through his hair. Why is life had to be that fucked up? Why did he have to give up on the only good thing he had? Twice now.

Why?

He sniffled rubbing at his eyes hoping that would help him with the tears.

“Hello, Dean.”

A sudden voice booming through the room made him jump. Standing in front of him was a smiling Crowley. Dean frowned, not caring how he must have looked at that moment.

“Now is not the moment Crowley.”

“I would have expected for you to be more accommodating after my little gift.”

Crowley stated hands tacked in his pockets. Frowning, Dean got up slowly.

“That was you?”

Crowley smiled at that kind of pride of himself, eyebrow raised.

“You sick bastard…”

Dean barely whispered before launching himself towards the demon. Crowley effortlessly managed to avoid him.

“Really? After everything I have done for you?”

He told him a little disappointed, head tilted to the left. Dean slowly turned around, facing him again.

“For me? No one asked you anything. You had no right to do that!”

“A bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

The shorter man asked pacing along with the room. Dean took a deep breath, too close to snap at him. The hunter shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips.

“You know what? I’m not doing this. You had your fun, now get the fuck out of here.”

He was already at the door when Crowley’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“She’s back.”

Dean closed his eyes trying to control the rage that was starting to rise inside him. He was sure to be one step closer to ripping him apart, consequences were damned.

“What are you talking about?”

He asked without even turning around too afraid of what would happen if he did.

“A soul for a soul. Let’s just say that something came up and I manage to get a deal out of it.”

His words peaked at Dean’s interest and the hunter slowly turned around to face the demon.

“A deal?”

Crowley nodded in confirmation, staring at Dean’s confused expression.

“And you wasted a deal to bring her back. Why?”

“Despite what you might think, you weren’t the only one who missed her. Among all of you dumbass, she was my favorite. She was… she was always kind to me.”

He whispered with a fond smile on his face. Eyebrow raised, Dean stared at him shocked. He was ready to say something when Crowley pointed a finger in his direction shutting him up.

“Let this information slip out of this room and I will personally torture you to death.”

Dean quickly closed his mouth. He took a few steps back just as a precaution, glaring at the man in front of him. Who knew Crowley was such a softy?

“Then, what was all of that?”

“Oh, well, I did say that I made a deal but of course, there was a catch.”

“Of course.”

“She’ll only come back if you didn’t’ try to take a shortcut and warned her to not go on that hunt. You got me worried there for a minute, I have to tell you.”

“You son of a…”

Dean whispered ready to punch him in the face. Crowley chuckled at that, before taking a step back and half raising his hands. Against his better judgment, Dean loosened up his fist.

“How do I know that you’re not lying?”

“Go check it out.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s waiting in your room.”

Dean didn’t waste any more time, heading to the door to get out of that damn room and go back to his.

“A thank you would have been appreciated.”

“I’ve waited for three years, I won’t wait one more minute.”

Crowley dropped his arms in annoyance, rolling his eyes. Freaking Winchesters, he thought before disappearing. Dean all but ran along the corridor and stopped only when he finally reached his door. He took a deep breath trying to calm down his wild heart. One hand in the wooden and the other on the doorknob, too scared to open that door because of what it could find in there or rather don’t find.

“Please, please, please.”

Eyes closed, he prayed that she was there. Turning the knob to the side, he slowly opened the door. She was right there sitting on the edge of their bed. Her hands-on her knees, she looked up and their eyes meet. At that moment his breath caught in his throat. She got up as soon as her eyes were on his, a small smile on her lips. Dean moved on instinct and in a few strides he had her in his arms.

“This is all real?”

He whispered in her hair. She smiled against his chest, holding him a bit tighter.

“Yeah, it’s real.”

Dean then took a step back. His hands cradled her face, while his eyes kept looking at her feature to convince himself that she was there with him. They smiled at each other before his lips found their way to hers. The kiss tasted of something familiar and new at the same time.

It felt like coming home after a long time.

They stepped back a little just enough so they could breathe again. Their foreheads touching, his hands on her neck and hers around his wrists. She smiled at him, the same smile he watched on her face so many times before. He missed it like crazy. He missed her.

“You kept your promise.”

“Yeah, three more minutes just like you asked me to.”

And just like that, his world was less empty.

*

Forevers Tags:

@440mxs-wife @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @morganaah

Supernatural Tags:

@flamencodiva @hobby27 @keep-beating-my-dear-heart @littlewhiterose @pastelpeaxch @snowlovespie

Dean/Jensen Tags:

@akshi8278 @awkward-and-indecisive @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @siospins2 @stitchintimefan @universallyraylangivens

#jays3kcelebration #frequency #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fan fiction #ham radio

[deleteddewewted]

Congratulations on your milestone! 💕💕 if you don’t mind, could I request an NSFW fluff #20 with either Kiri or Shinsou? With a f!reader, pls? Congrats again!!

First post after being gone for sooo long. This one contains Kirishima and you living out your best life and enjoying one another's company.

Sweet Lover

Pro Hero! Kirishima x Fem! Reader

💕💜Counting Memories Event💜💕: Now Closed!

💕💜Counting Memories Event Masterlist💜💕

MDNI

NSFW

W: Fluff, Clothes Get Ripped, Dom Reader Themes, Subby Kirishima, Nipple Play, Pro Hero! Kirishima

Fluff:

20)"Marry me."

If you'd like to support my work (Check my Ko-fi and Throne!)

You knew what to expect when it came to him. He was loud, energetic, and positive. He was always there for you when you felt down about something, it mainly came about when others talked about your quirk’s lack of use. Whenever a frown would make itself known on your face, he would be there to get rid of it, though, you might need to hold him back from the person who made such a comment since he’s defensive when it comes to you. His arms would engulf you in a warm embrace and his kisses littered your face in an act of pure adoration. He knew that his actions were enough to show his affection but the giggle you would let out when he would start singing your guys song was worth the mild embarrassment he felt even after knowing he was off key the entire time.

Kirishima is such a prominent pro hero that he needs to make an appearance in a variety of places, no matter what, since it helps boost his rating as well as social approval. He loves going out, especially if it's with you but he hates the entire commercialization aspect of being a hero, as well as having to deal with the paparazzi. Once when you were both on a date, the paparazzi found you both because an employee of the restaurant you had a reservation at, ratted you both out to the press. Kirishima had to cancel the reservation and the manager offered to let you both come in another day to dine for free because of the incident. Kirishima, ever the sweetheart, thanked the manager for the offer but declined and drove the both of you back to your shared apartment for a movie night. But, there were occasions when he wouldn't mind the paparazzi following you both and that usually was when he had you as his plus one to a hero gala or charity event. Getting the chance to show you off, show everyone that you’re his and he was only yours, was a high he couldn't get enough off. Everyone in Japan would see the two of you holding hands and being cute together so it wasn't something he wanted to miss out on. But, just like with everything, there was a bad side to it all. He loved getting touchy with you. Holding you and having you close to him reassured him that you were safe but it also had him getting a bit distracted. Your weight on his lap was just too much for him and he would begin to subtly grind against you. If he could get away with it, he would bury his face into the crook of your neck and hump your ass while you both pretend to pay attention to whoever is giving a speech at the moment. Because of the frequency, Kirishima would sometimes just ask you to go into one of the private bathrooms with him. It wasn't unusual for him to either end up on his knees as he lapped and sucked on your sex but it also wasn't unusual to find yourself in a full nelson as he pounded into your tight cunt either. He savored whatever he could get but at times it still wasn't enough. 

While you were at work you got a text from him saying that a hero gala he had been invited to was going to be held at All Might's tower. He wasn't exactly all that thrilled because it meant having to be around some of the older heroes and older representatives, don't get him wrong, he admired them but he just found that many of them no longer understood what hero work was like anymore. It was also very intimidating to be standing next to Endeavor, who not only maintained his physic but now held a perpetually lost look on his face.

“Eiji, Endeavor isn't a hero anymore. He isn't a threat.” You giggled as you typed.

“Yeah I know…. but I still don't like being close to him.” He replied back. You laughed at his message and sent back an old picture of him standing next to the ex-pro hero at a charity event. Kirishima easily towered over his senior since he was 6’9 and Endeavor only measured at 6’5. It wasn't that big of a difference but it was always amusing to see them stand side by side.

“Babe, if anything I'd say Endeavor looks more uncomfortable being around you than you are of him.” That got you a set of laughing emojis with a kissy face at the end. You were right after all. Endeavor looked in between constipated and confused as he stared up at Kirishima.

You left work and picked up some snacks from the corner store closest to your guy's shared apartment. You usually got hungry after work and Kirishima always needed to refuel on his calories after a long day of running around and fighting villains by hand. So when you walked into your apartment you didn't expect him to be shirtless, wearing an apron, and cooking a meal. The last part was the concerning part since Kirishima never cooked. He burnt everything he tried to make and it usually resulted in him just ordering out and pretending that he cooked you a special meal. 

You dropped your bag on the floor and placed the snacks on the kitchen counter, right beside the chopped vegetables. He quickly looked at you, a wide smile appearing on his face before returning to his stirring. You stood next to him just admiring his features till he looked at you again. This time you gave him a kiss on the lips that you had been dying to give him since the moment you walked in. You parted from him but he quickly followed your mouth with his own in a desperate attempt to kiss you again. You managed to get away but you also craved his affection after the day you had. You pulled him into a hug, turning off the stove before he accidentally burned himself and the food. Feeling his larger frame pressed against your own body comforted you and eased the tension in your body.

“So I'm guessing work wasn't all that great, huh?” He pulled you even closer by wrapping his arms around you, his nose pressed into your hair.

“Yeah…but you make everything better.” You kissed his covered chest and gave him one last tight hug before giving him space again.  He frowned at the loss of your body but he was fine after you told him you had bought snacks for the both of you to enjoy. 

Kirishima told you that Bakugou, Midoriya, Iida, and a few other pros would be attending the gala. It wasn't anything as formal as the previous ones, everyone would just come in their hero costumes, make an appearance and leave once they did an interview or two. 

“If we're lucky, we might take a few pictures and be able to leave.” You chuckled. In the previous galas, every time you both left or attempted to leave, a swarm of fans would surround you both and ask for pictures. Kirishima usually wasn't one to reject photos but he sometimes had to say no, mainly when he has a hard-on and is trying not to let the world find out he was ready to bust a nut at the sight of your ass in the skin-tight dress he bought for you. Overall, it would just become exhausting having to lift or crouch down to take a selfie with fans.

“Well, we could always just say that I got sick and you needed to take me home?” He giggled at your comment. 

“Lying isn't good, babe.” He still thought it over and didn't think it wasn't that bad of an idea.

Days after discussing your plans for the gala, he took you out on a shopping trip for a new dress. Since it wasn't anything formal, it didn't matter what you bought but he still wanted to have you dressed to the nines. You were his perfect and precious girlfriend, he wanted you to be the hottest thing in the room. You picked out a dress with a large slit to the side and a heart-shaped opening on the chest area. Kirishima whistles as you showed off the dress to him, the fabric extenuating your curves and leaving nothing to the imagination. He crossed his legs in an attempt to hide his hardening length but it was obvious and he instead hurried you to pay and get out of the store. He carried you into your shared apartment and begged you to get into your newly bought dress. His hands wandered over your body even as you put on the dress and once you were finished, he pulled you into a feverish kiss. 

Kirishima’s body ran hot no matter what season it was. His hands were the perfect temperature when he’d fondle your breasts late at night. His mouth was perfectly able to keep you warm as he left hickeys on your skin. Kirishima’s chest was the perfect place to rest your head on as he gently fingered you before slipping his cock inside your loose pussy. But right now, his hands grabbed and fondled your ass as he kissed you. 

His tongue licked your bottom lip in a silent plea for more but his whines gave away what he truly wanted. You grabbed the back of his head and pulled on his bright red hair, tuffs of it becoming disheveled. The softest moans left his mouth as you parted from him. He was flushed red, his cheeks and ears showing the effect you had on him. You pushed him onto the bed and straddled him. The dress tightened around your figure but you knew that it wouldn't be long before it would be ripped into pieces by Kirishima. He was already pulling on the fabric and you could hear the stitches begin to pop. His hand wandered down to your sex and gently rubbed on your already aching clit. You bucket into his touch while making sure to rub against his own covered cock. 

After ripping your new dress off with the use of his quirk, he took off his own pants and allowed you to do as you please. You gently took in his girthy length and enjoyed the way it stretched you out. You felt him twitch inside you as you bottomed out, the warmth of his hips meeting your bare ass. You gently stroked his stomach as you took in his happy trail. The thick black hair followed from his belly button down to his pubic bone where it formed into a pretty bush of hair. 

You rolled your hips, causing his eyes to roll into the back of his head. A loud groan left him as he bucked up in order to meet you. The moment that you began to bounce, up and down at a steady pace, Kirishima broke and gripped onto your hips like a lifeline. He thrusted quickly into you, his eyes blank and his mouth completely slack as the sound of skin against skin filled the room. You had your hands on his chest in an attempt to stabilize yourself but the sweat on both your skins left you gripping onto him.

“Eiji˜ Eijirou˜!” You felt yourself slip and land face-first onto his firm but plush chest. You knew that if he kept his pace if he kept thrusting into you like he needed to be deep inside you, you would cum soon. You lifted yourself enough to pinch at his right nipple and latched your mouth onto his left one. Kirishima moaned out your name as you sucked on his nipple and grabbed onto your hips to push you down onto him. 

“Baby, baby˜ Fuck˜I don't think I'm gonna last long.” You didn't bother to respond and instead gently bit his chest. He let out a loud groan and whimpered at the feeling of your tongue lapping on his chest, the warm and wet muscle passing over his sensitive nipple.

You came just as he buried himself inside for the last time and basketed in the sensation of him emptying himself inside you. You felt something sticky drip out of you and slide down your thigh before recognizing it as his seed. 

Air returned to your lungs as you relaxed on top of him and listened to the thumping of his heart. Kirishima was still out of it, his eyes unfocused and a stupid smile on his flushed face. He wrapped his arms around your torso and held onto you with a  firm grip. He readjusted himself under you and apologized for accidentally moving his hips up. 

“Marry me.” His voice was broken but soft, a tinge of bliss still hanging onto him. You giggled at his statement and snuggled closer to him while also fondling his pecks.

“Whenever you want, big guy.” You both fell asleep holding each another, the sound of Kirishima's beating heart acting as white noise. 

The sheets were dirty and sweat-drenched the both of you, but neither one of you cared. He had you close and you were safe in his arms. What more could you ask for? Your possible future husband had you absolutely whipped for him.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima x f! reader #kirishima x you #mha #shinsou x y/n #bnha #my hero academia #kirishima eijirou #ask #DD answers #touyasdollmain #sub! Kirishima #dom reader #dom fem reader

[y0itsbri]

shameless summer series (s2 era) - based on this prompt posted by @ianandmickeygallavich & @shameless-notashamed ☀️📽️🍿

Mandy doesn’t know why the fuck Mickey is tagging along to her movie date with Ian. He says it’s because the cinema is air-conditioned. She doesn’t believe him, why would he sit through a romantic comedy just to keep cool? And she also doesn’t get why Ian sits in the middle of them.

words: 1.2k

"Ian, come on we're gonna be late!" Mandy yelled from the bottom of the steps outside the Gallagher's house.

"Jesus Christ, Mands, did you want the fuckin' Twizzlers or not?" Ian passed the threshold to the outside and smacked her shoulder with the candy before she smuggled them out of his grip.

"Thank you, boyfriend," she kissed his cheek as he scrunched up his nose at the affection -- especially in front of her brother, who looked onto their loving display amused before returning his gaze back down at the ground.

Mandy kicked Mickey in the shin.

"Ow- fuck! What?!"

"Be fuckin' nice, dickwad," she threateningly whispered.

If Ian was looking closely, he might have seen the tips of Mickey's ears blush red as he muttered a "'sup, Gallagher."

"Hey Mick," Ian smiled at him, unable to help himself.

"'m sorry my idiot brother decided to crash our date." Mandy apologized, emphasizing the last word and glaring at an unbothered Mickey. She led her boys down the side walk en route to the movie theater for the two o'clock showing they had been planning to see.

"Oh, did he now?" Ian teased, threatening to cross into Mickey's part of the sidewalk, but Mickey held his ground and dodged Ian's attempts to bump into him.

"It's hot as balls out and you know damn well Dad hasn't paid the AC in ages." Mickey pulled a piece of Mandy's hair from behind her.

"Bitch! Coulda went to wherever the fuck it is you normally terrorize," she swooped her hair to the front of her shoulders, out of Mickey-the-menace's reach.

"No AC."

"Whatever."

-

Ian caught the side door to the theater as a group of kids were exiting a movie. The three teenagers snuck in successfully.

"'ey Ian, ya want some popcorn? I was gonna get some."

"Uh, yeah, sure -- thanks Mickey," Ian grinned as Mickey turned away without another word.

"Shit! We're gonna miss the previews -- let's go!"

"What about Mickey?" Ian wondered.

"Uh, we'll save a seat? Duh? Do you have worm for brains?"

"Shut up," Ian shoved her and she giggled.

-

Mandy cuddled into Ian's side as they took some empty seats in the back of the theater. She loved spending time with her best friend, but why did her brother always have to cock block? Okay -- not that she was gonna get some, anyways, because Ian's fucking gay or whatever, but it's still the sentiment!

As the final previews ended, Mandy believed that Mickey would truly be a no show. She had no idea why he tagged along to see Perks of Being a Wallflower with them in the first place when she was pretty sure some movies with like fucking superheroes or battleships or some shit were on next door. He hasn't been soft enough to watch a romance movie in years -- especially in front of another guy. It just didn't add up.

She sighed as Mickey finally waltzed into the theater, two bags of popcorn in hand. Mandy picked up her purse from the seat next to her for Mickey to sit down, but he kept walking and plopped down on the other side of Ian. The fuck?

"Mick, I saved you a seat here," she whispered.

Mickey shook the bags of buttery puffs between himself and Ian, "Popcorn." He turned back towards the screen as if that justified everything. Whatever. Ian was still hers at least.

Ian moved his hand from Mandy's arm so he could eat his popcorn.

Motherfucker.

She gnawed on her Twizzlers.

-

Ian had a hard time focusing on the movie at first. Mickey was manspreading and his left thigh was pushing into Ian's -- hand-me-down athletic shorts touching worn denim.

Ian glanced over at Mickey just in time to see him tilt his head back, exposing his throat, and dump the contents of the popcorn bag into his mouth, spilling a few pieces.

Mickey gave him a side eye and cocked an eyebrow up, "See something ya like?"

"You're a messy eater."

"Says the guy with half his food on his chest." Ian looked down. Oh.

Before he could bring his hand up to brush it off, Mickey plucked off a piece of popcorn and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly while keeping eye contact with Ian. Motherfucker.

Ian was not about to be sporting a semi with fucking Emma Watson on screen and Mandy two inches to his left. He wasn't.

Mickey grinned and turned his focus back on the movie again.

-

Of course this movie would have a queer character that Mickey was both repulsed and drawn towards. Some things hit a little too close to home for comfort, okay?

Fuck.

He knew he was frozen and tense. He didn't expect anyone else to notice, but of course, fucking Ian was like an alien motherfucker always tuned into his frequency. He always knew.

Without looking at him, Ian cautiously placed his hand over Mickey's thigh. When Mickey didn't push away - in fact, he leaned into it, - Ian gently stroked his leg with his thumb in what he thought was a loving gesture. An I see you gesture. An it's okay gesture.

Maybe it would be okay.

-

Mandy started tearing up near the end of the movie, so Ian, in his perfect boyfriend role, wrapped his arm around her shoulders -- her face tucked into his chest. Her eyes were glued to the screen, so she didn't even notice that one of Ian's hands was dropped to the side of the seat and inched so close towards the edge, towards Mickey's seat -- so close, in fact, that the boys had been linking pinky fingers for the better part of the movie. Hidden in the dark of the theater. Their fingers had started sweating like half an hour ago, but neither of them could bring themselves to pull away just yet, savoring their little piece of forever in the grimy cinema. Some shit about we accept the love we think we deserve.

-

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom before we go, you guys gonna be fine by yourselves for a minute?"

"We'll see," Mickey muttered. Mandy frowned.

Ian clasped his hand over Mickey's shoulder, "He means we'll be fine."

Mickey flipped him off until Mandy was out of view and then dipped his head towards one of the theater doors, motioning for Ian to follow. The door didn't lead to another theater, but to a storage closet.

Before the door was even able to close all the way, Mickey frantically reached to pull down Ian's pants. Ian's brain worked slower than his dick as he managed to comprehend their current situation.

"Mick, we have like no time," Ian groaned into it, his feeble attempt to not get so turned on quickly failing.

"Imma make it quick, new personal best."

Ian's chuckle turned into a gasp. Okay, damn, maybe so.

Mickey's head rested on Ian's chest and Ian's head fell atop Mickey's, the scent of his hair gel mixed with him intoxicating his senses.

Motherfucker.

-

Mandy exited the bathroom, her company no where to be seen. She leaned against the pole, debating calling Ian or waiting another couple minutes. Sure enough, the boys came wandering over a few minutes later.

"Took ya long enough, where'd you run off to?"

"Uh, Ian wanted to look at the movie poster for, uh-"

"Battleship."

"Yeah, Battleship."

"Nerds," Mandy called, walking towards the exit. They were terrible liars. They all knew it. Whatever, they hadn't killed each other, that's all she cared about. She turned around to face the semi-stunned boys, "Coming?"

They headed back home in the sweltering sun, Mandy leading the group as always.

And if the two boys walked a little closer than before as Mandy turned a blind eye, that was nobody's business but theirs.

#shameless #mandy milkovich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #ian x mandy #mickey x mandy #my posts #shameless s2 #gallavich #shameless fanfiction #shameless fanfic #gallavich fanfic #gallavich fanfiction #shameless summer

[sunnysviolin]

More Big Brother Hero Little Brother Sunny HC because I’m the only one looking for them, and I need to write something....anything...Gah. These are all post canon. Also this is for @grampygoro !! Feel better you!!

At first Hero isn’t sure he could ever go back to seeing Sunny the way he did before he had learned the truth about how Mari died. Sunny had always occupied the same space in his heart that Kel had 

Although maybe not quite as much of that space was occupied by Sunny, they were still nestled together. They were the two that he had to look over

He still cared deeply for Basil and Aubrey, but he didn’t have to look after them. With Sunny and Kel he had to make sure that they had coats in the winter, umbrellas when it rained. Hero had to make them a snack in the afternoon, help with math homework, soothe nerves and offer encouragement. 

It was his role. He and Mari had always left it a somewhat unspoken thing between them, but it was still there. He knew that she watched as he carried Sunny up to his bed to sleep after a movie night, just like he watched as she dried Kel’s tears after he scraped his arm open tripping on the sidewalk. They didn’t need words to explain themselves to each other, the actions spoke louder than any words could. 

In those long four years after Mari’s death Hero had clung to the one little brother he could help. Even the sight of Sunny at her funeral had hurt him, and Hero hated himself for the perverse relief he had that Sunny had become a shut in after his sister’s death. 

Then he learned the truth. 

Standing in the hospital Hero went through a lightning round of the five stages of grief. He landed in a numb understanding, familiar walls he had been working to tear down haphazardly thrown up in the wake of Sunny’s story. 

Kel and Aubrey had forgiven Sunny and Basil quickly. Too quickly in Hero’s opinion, but who was he to judge? They all had their own journeys around grief, and he had to quash down the ugly part of him that was bitter at Kel for readily accepting Sunny back into their life. Aubrey didn’t hurt as badly, because he hadn’t seen her in years, but Kel? Kel stung. 

Hero buried that deep down within himself, buried it like he had buried Mari for all these years. He spent his days baking and baking, cooking endlessly in the kitchen as he tried to avoid his own feelings. 

The only time he stopped was when Kel said Sunny was coming into town to visit, something that began to happen with increasing frequency. Then Hero got in his car and drove and drove instead. He never knew where he was going, what exactly his near frantic mind was looking for to settle itself, but it was better than having to see Sunny. 

Hero wished he knew how he felt. He wished he knew if it was anger (Part of it had to be) if it was grief, betrayal? He didn’t know the word. He didn’t know anything. All he had were recipes, the memory of a girl who used to brush away his brother’s tears and treated him like he was her own, and the knowledge that his girl would want him to look after their brothers. 

One night Hero arrived home when the moon was full in the sky. The town was quiet, and even the key turning in the lock felt too loud. He toed his shoes off quietly and slipped into the slumbering house. 

The TV was on, illuminating the dark in technicolor glow. There was a horror movie on, some cheapo flick that had really bad fake blood from what Hero could see. He shook his head and peered past the couch, his blood suddenly running cold. 

Kel and Sunny were asleep alone on the floor. Kel had thrown his arms out to his side, and Sunny had pillowed his head on one of those arms, curled up into a tight ball. Hero bit his tongue, staring down at the two sleeping boys. 

They were sleeping on the floor with no blanket. They should have a blanket. There it was, the same soft feeling he had felt for Sunny and Kel all his life. The urge to put a throw blanket over them and turn the TV down low so the sound didn’t wake Sunny up. The feeling that had always been the same because they were both his brothers. 

He shouldn’t have it anymore. He shouldn’t be able to let go of what Sunny did. Hero’s lungs burned, and he let out a long shaking exhale. He walked past the living room and up the stairs. He grabbed Kel’s thick comforter and dragged it downstairs, carefully laying it over the two sleeping boys

Hero slowly lowered himself down till he was sitting by the boy’s heads. . He didn’t like horror movies, they usually terrified him, but he couldn’t imagine leaving. Not right now. He stared at the screen and forced his eyes not to look down at the boy he hadn’t seen in nearly a month

“Hero?” The Universe hated him. It must. 

He looked down and met Sunny’s eyes. Sunny was barely visible from under the blankets, but his head poked out. They stared at each other for a moment before Hero sighed and looked away. He reached out a hand and let his fingers brush through Sunny’s hair. The smaller boy shivered, but he didn’t pull away. One of the long cracks in Hero’s heart mended ever so slightly, and he began to once more methodically pull the bricks out of the walls guarding him from those he loved. 

“Go back to sleep. I’m here,” 

#y’all I don’t know what’s up with me because I have the drive to write and great prompts and ideas for them but I am just.....stuck. #It’s school once registration is over I will be happy as a clam. #Until then! Take this! and sorry that I always add my personal shit I’m sure you guys don’t care lmao. #omori #omori headcanons #omori headcanon #omori sunny #omori hero #omori kel #omori mari #heromari #omori aubrey #omori basil #I love #big brother hero #little brother sunny #so fricken much #Hero has so much love #in him #he's jsut so scared #my poor boy

[scott-mccall-the-hot-girl]

theodore raeken: missing persons

( okay so i kinda had an idea ,, and then went through the whole teen wolf timeline to see if it would work ,, so here it is !!

theo’s backstory !! it started off way more messy headcannon format & then it got kinda a real story vibe ,, def thinking about making it an ao3 one shot eventually )

-

TW: very sad & hurt my feelings

don't imagine:

eight year old theo raeken...

who sleeps at his best friend scott mccall's house almost every single night, stiles is almost always there too.

theo and his friends where they all watch movies together until ungodly hours of the morning. stiles loved star wars, theo will never forget that. they had gone as luke, han and chewy for halloween that previous year. melissa went as leia. scott has always been more of a indiana jones fan himself. theo would watch either, anywhere where harrison ford was theo didn't mind being.

in this little trio, who were all raised in the mccall house, where they were given eveything they needed. sometimes when theo thought about her, when he needed to remember the good things in life. he never quite knew how she managed. expecially with scott's dad who floated in and out of the picture.

yet, it always was melissa who gave scott extra lunches to take to school because theo and his sister, who were often forgotten by their parents usually were left to fend for themselves and a fourteen year old girl rarely had the funds or mind to give a growing boy a nutritious lunch. these packed lunches always with the crust off because that's the way theo liked it. melissa always remembered.

theo had three favorite places: scott's bedroom, the corner next to his bed where theo's blow up mattress was. the bridge in which tara and he crossed everyday on their way back to raekens from school. his final place was actually beacon hills elementary.

theo always liked school. theo was good at school. he didn't realize this until mellisa had pointed out an exceptional report card. he didn't think it was much of anything to be proud of.

he liked recognizing big words from english class and novels that would help him when his mom watched jeopardy. she would watch the show every night. sitting in a daze in the raekens dark living room. not paying much mine to the eight year old, until he started blurting out the answers to her favorite show. she beamed at him. he loved his mother's smile, she had the same dimples as tara.

so yeah, when a seventeen year old theo raeken spent months filing the names of anyone ever involved in the mccall pack, current members, deceased and ones that just fell out of beacon hills. he remebered some names.

theo raeken grew up in beacon hills, and beacon hill wasn't to big of a town.

theo rembered issac lahey a quiet boy who had been in his thrid grade class, jackson whittemore who was a grade older than them and everyone knew him because he was was offered a spot on the middle school lacross team, he knew erica reyes who he rembered for her epilepsy and it made him hate himself a little less for being the king of the heart condition, he even remebered names like derek hale- who was in the same grade as tara. theo even rembered the name malia tate as she was small girl who did go to beacon hills elementary, who was always startled and always walked a bit faster than everyone else through the halls. or even lydia martin, a girl stiles had a crush on. she talked to theo a lot, lydia used to call him teddy, he didn't know when it started but he let her do it purely to spite the fact that lydia gave theo a nickname and never bothered to acknowledge stiles.

theo rembered all of them, i mean for years of his life all he had to rely on was his memory to make sure it was real.

though during the line memories turned bitter and he was left with the sour taste of resentment.

so it was weird to think despite it all, that year was one of theo's best. he never felt like he belonged. sure he had scott and stiles before but gaining friendship & being labeled as an "inseparable trio" by the sheriff station deputies, whenever they rang havoc through their office made theo's mouth crack a toothy grin. he felt like he had a family.

that was until the air started getting colder in beacon hills. theo started hearing the voices. though, even so much later in life he never could quite pin point how it started, like his brain couldn't truly decipher what was going on. some of it felt like dream, though the dreams and the thoughts. sometimes they didn't feel like his own and made him so scared he would leave the day feeling nauseous.

though this all came in spurts. his birthday was that november, and that was magical. he spent the weekend with stiles and scott, theo's mom actually made the point to bring the three of them bowling. the boys pitched in on buying theo a big millennium falcon lego set because he was always doing things with his hands, something he picked up not being so most athletic of the bunch. they also got him big poster of han solo just to spite him. he blushed and yelled at them for stupid gifts but they knew by the smile on his face he loved them.

he loved so much because despite the fact that they were poking fun at him ever so lightly, they were good natured and they held thought. they really thought about theo enough to know what he liked. he never had that before.

so the voices started getting louder again around christmas time. it was weird for theo, the happiest time of the year filled him with such excessive dread. it didn't feel right. theo's life changed that month.

then one day scott and stiles get sit down because something tragic happened. tara raeken is dead. the details are fuzzy and they don't really understand how, seeing as these boys are just in fourth grade. they are horrified, it's one of the only other times they've experienced death besides with stiles mom. though claudia stilinksi was sick, sometimes sick people die. learning about tara left a bad taste in their mouth. she was young.

they try and call, bike past is his house. they don't hear from him. they go to her funeral, scott and stiles, high on anxiety attached to their parents just trying to sneak a peak of where their best friends may be. he's gone, that's the conclusion they come to, he's gone. they don't know how it could have happened, they just know that he isn't there. why wouldn't he be there?

they try and talk to the raekens but haunted by their daughters death, they paid less attention to theo than before. they barley give them a straight answer, melissa explains what grief can do to a family and not to blame them but is equally suspicious.

just take a minute to think, while scott and stiles are scared and searching for their best friend, theo raeken, barley nine years old is given a heart transplant. alone in a dark and cold sewer hidden deep under beacon hills, horrified and a failure, that's what the dread doctors tell him. a boy who keeps quiet, does what needs to be done and has to survive. doing absolutely everything he can to be kept around, the second he heals (which theo recognizes is abnormally fast) the doctors are straight out of beacon hills.

the doctors eventually find his parents too, who leave beacon hills, he doesn't exactly know what happened to them. he doesn't everything he can not to think about the possibilities. he hopes he has a chance, survival instincts flourish but the ideal of living isn't quite the same as surviving.

one day, the doctors inform him he has absolutely nothing to go back to, he figured this he just be didn't think they would actually tell him. they never told him much.

they are far away from beacon hills- much farther than he assumed. he has no sister, and his parents are gone.

he is alone, and he is finding out that now, he has one more secret to hide. the poor boy has claw and fangs and often thinks about using them to rip himself apart, i mean he deserves it right? he just watched his sister die, to go down with the last living part of her, his own heart.

while theo is expecting his fate, stiles and scott and stuck in months of confusion. missing posters of the boys face are strung up everywhere they can reach, once his parents are gone. they know they need to do everything they can.

mellisa feels like she's been punched in the gut, so she helps her boys. she calls every hospital in the county, and then she starts reaching out to some of the bigger hospitals in the state. spreading word of a missing nine year old like wildfire. she spends nights after her shift arguing with noah stilinksi, he has been looking to. he tries to bargain logic with her.

"yeah it's strange he never said goodbye, he wasnt at the funeral- it's weird, yes, but his parents left too. their daughter just died melissa. maybe they didn't want to stay."

melissa knows, yeah that makes sense. theo had to of just moved with the raekens but something about it doesn't feel like it makes sense.

he would have said goodbye to her. she knows it.

other people in beacon hills were actually thinking the same thing, something wasn’t quite making sense.

those other people being some who can sense unrest in supernatural frequencies. a family who makes it their business to monitor the supernatural. the hales.

though, talia hales supernatural concerns didn't often revolve around fourteen year old girls who drown, shes curious. the girl, was in dereks grade. the mother in her falters but it doesn't get strange until the police reports reveal the fact that the girls heart was gone, she was found. gaping chest wound, lying in the river.

so she starts to suspect somethings wrong. she's seen the raekens case, something about it doesn't make sense. sure, the death of a teenage girl is overwhelmingly tragic but there isn't much to investigate. though talk of the raekens is getting loud, she comes to find out this is because of the raekens youngest, who was nowhere to be seen days before the funeral.

she knows the hunters are back in beacon hills. so wonders if the two correlate. so she starts asking questions.

talia, with her daughter in tow see two boys standing outside the sheriffs station, stopping people when they walk in to show they a poster. it's theo raekens missing poster, though there isn't much official about it. it seems like the sheriffs department couldn't issue anything official, so as she walks up to the boys seemed to have made dozens of copies themselves. there information seems formal enough.

she catches their anxiety heighten as talia hands the poster over to laura who stands behind her.

the taller one raises a brow, "have you seen him anywhere miss?"

she smiles, "miss hale- you can call me talia though. this is my daughter laura. we haven't seen your friend but we'd like to help..."

the taller boy nods, "well, i'm scott. that's stiles. how could you help?"

talia hale lies easily, "i've heard about what happened to the raekens and it sparked my concern. i have a friend, local sheriffs station who is awfully good with the police dogs. if you have anything that your friend owned i might be able to call i'm a favor."

a few days later, stiles had found her in the same spot as last time with a small black sweater. she smiled and told him she would do her best to help these two boys. not sure if her intrest in the case was supernatural based or because she didn't want these boys, who smelled like anxiety and exhaustion to fall down the hole of loss themselves. she wasn't sure where investigating theo’s disappearance themselves would leave them, she didn't want them getting caught up in the supernatural spiderweb of beacon hills.

though, talia hale looses scent and momentum on the case. literally and metaphorically. she finds herself near some suspicious tunnels, leading right under beacon hills but scent falls short. she's frustrated, and the time since his disappearance is lengthening but her families needs become increasingly concerning.

she's listens, she likes to know what's going on. so when she hears her sixteen year old whispering a bit more with her kid brother she raises suspicion. she doesn't trust peter like she used to, not after getting involved with the desert wolf.

paige dies months after that, dereks heartbroken and talia is trying to put together pieces of a story that turned her babies eyes blue. to young. beacon hills doesn't quite understand how another student is dead, with no previous medical history. this, the death of paige she knows is supernatural.

kate argent moves to town and in months, the hale house is burned to the ground. inside, theo raekens black sweater. tucked away in a room, where news clippings and missing posters caught fire the fastest.

so with no surprise, another tragedy is unleashed and it's the talk of the town. memory of theo starts to fade, like most things do in beacon hills. it's not anybodies fault but it still stings. though, theo million miles away hasn't felt much of anything latley.

it's been a little over a year. he hasn't cried in the past three months. he won't let himself. nobody is going to find him. he isn't going to het out. so he puts up his walls, as many as he can. he just has to stay alive a little bit longer. make something worth taras sacrifice. they had started to kill off more of the chimeras, more of their science experiments. he can't get killed, he can't do that to tara.

theo was always a fast learner. theo always liked school. theo was good at school. this wasnt exactly the same as math class at beacon hills elementary but he was picking up skills quickly. theo didn't quite recognize himself after that year. he wasn't that same boy, and that had to suite him just fine. he never had much of a choice in this. he just chose to try and keep her heart beating for as long as he could.

so theo raeken adjusted, he had to.

#theo raeken: missing persons #this hurts ahahhaha #i’m crying #theo raeken #theodore raeken #theo raeken headcannon #headcannon #teen wolf headcannon #scott mccall #stiles stilinksi #melissa mccall #sheriff stilinski #tara raeken #beacon hills #hale pack #talia hale #derek hale #peter hale #talia hale is a badass #i love scott so much #i love theo so much it hurts #chimera #fuck the dread doctors

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

Deaf MC vs Devildom

.

A HUGE thanks to @jaywalk-on-me for reaching out to me about this subject. I really hope I have given this it some justice.

Also, to avoid some of the controversies inside the Deaf Culture: I will not be referencing cochlear implants.

And a note for my fellow hearing people, there is definetelly not much difference between us and deaf/hard of hearing people, in fact, after reading about it, I can hardly consider it a disability seeing it can actually allow them to percieve the world in a much different way from ours and would not have any problems in their life if only us, hearing peers, were cooperative and understanding. Everything we need to do is literally minor details and does not hinder our own lifes in the slightest, in fact, it can even help us too! An example is captioning, there is literally nothing to lose, and honestly, even I put captioning on movies of my mother lenguage because sometimes I just can't understand what is being said and captions really help me with that and enjoy whatever I am watching to the fullest! So let's be more understanding. We are all humans, and can all learn from each other's perspective.

And as always

Warning: Uncensored swearing lol, and reference to lesson 16

.

Lucifer

Ah, yes, he knew about it, was in your files, nailed it, he learned your local sign lenguage, all good.

Except his expressions are so damn stiff.

He signs a 'Welcome to The Devildom' and I kid you not, you will not be able to tell if he is trying to be welcomingly polite (and failing miserably) or threatening you.

It was definetelly both

He gets better at it-

Perks if you like classic music though, because you will be able to give him a whole different way of enjoying it.

He won't force you to speak if you choose not to, but he sure will never stop being delighted to hear your voice if you do.

It still baffles him how observant you are, may start trusting you to find details he missed on certain things.

.

Mammon

He definetelly forgot everything he learned on sign lenguage the moment he stepped out of the tutoring Lucifer made him and all his brothers, except for Levi and Satan, go through.

Yes he will mistake around 5 signs per day on the first week of your arrival in the Devildom.

And he will often forget that you most likelly cannot hear him (if his voice frequency doesn't match your hearing that is) and go off blabbing without signing and then just go "oi why ya ignoring me" and he definetelly is this close 👌to being wacked with the closest thing at range.

Again, he gets better too.

In fact, once he warms up to you (and that's like, real fucking fast) he will make so much effort to get things right, and he always pays attention to have captions in movie nights even without you asking??

He tries lip reading once when you told him it's not easy and, I will let it to your imagination what on hell he managed to lip read.

.

Leviathan

As mentioned above, he didn't need the tutoring. Why? Guess what, he already knew at least a few sign lenguages, all because of the many animes, games and shows he has watched portray it, even though the ammount of representation is small.(btw I recomend DARK, there is a deaf&mute character and oh boi she's awesome, it's on netflix)

So he definetelly had no problem communicating with you, in fact, he was almost relieved.

He doesn't need to speak verbally?? He basically would rather spoon his eyes out than talk on the phone so on drug levels texting instead is like heroin????

And oh lord you NEED to invite him to the music festivals on the human world catered towards deaf and hard of hearing people, be will LOVE it.

A little bit of downside though, some of his expression changes are very subtle, but as he spends more time with you, he will start incorporating character voices into expressions and body lenguage instead, and you bet he enjoys doing it.

He will definetelly make music just for you. You only hear high frequencies? Or maybe only low frequencies? Or just nothing at all but you enjoy the rythmic vibrations? He definetelly has spend an entire night making a full fucking album just for you.

.

Satan

Seriously, he knows so many sign lenguages it actually made his way of signing pretty unique!

Another fake ass who will give you gentlemany smiles at first. He may be a way lot more smoother than Lucifer but you bet his fake ass is not passing your vibe check, not with the way his eyes just feel a little bit not right.

Another one who gets better though.

It's kind of nice how he grows so used to signing while speaking that his hands often give off a sign or two even when he is speaking to hearing people.

He will definetelly roast quite a few half assed interpreters.

Also he may or may not have gotten a new obssession after you two watched a few silent movies together??

.

Asmodeus

Oh boy this one needs to chill out a bit.

If you can't interpret signs when done too fast then good luck because his hands will literally be able to spell a full fucking paragraph in 20 seconds.

And oh how he explores your other senses.

Definetelly goes to you first to judge how he looks.

Also he is the best option to keep yourself informed?? I mean, it's also something he can relate with, it doesn't matter if someone killed somebody or just broke their nail, he needs to know about it.

He may be a bit disappointed if you don't speak but he gets over it quickly.

Will ruin many people's carreer if they so much as refuse to attent to you just because you're deaf. There's just nothing wrong with it??? Stop being so petty!

He is now your biggest distraction in mid class and you will definetelly end each day carrying at least 10 paper notes in which he will try to speak with you. They definetelly smell like whatever he smells like at the time. And are definetelly written in colored pen. With glitter. And there are hearts. And possibly a kiss mark-

.

Beelzebub

Big boy definetelly has two types of sign lenguage he uses, and if literally depends if he is eating and what he is eating.

Normally he is just, normal lol. Since he is pretty much quite a bit of an amateur at it he will make use of speech filters a lot when he needs to remember certain signs.

If he's holding something big like a sandwich he will either just gulf it all in to have both hands free or try to make a simplified version with one hand. I'll admit the first scenario is quite amusing.

Yes some of the first questions he asks is how to spells certain foods.

And yes you bet you won't be able to know all of them because Devildom food is definetelly something.

Oh and get ready for a bit of chaos if anyone refuses your order because you're deaf.

Please tell him to flap his wings and proceed lay on him or hug him. The vibrations will be very much close to one of those massage chairs.

.

Belphegor

Oh boy.

First off, he did NOT know about you being deaf because thanks Lucifer.

You guys definetelly spoke in a lot of exchanged notes under his attic door.

He keeps them all hidden somewhere but he will never admit it.

If you're willing to teach him at least how to say 'hi', 'good night' or things like that, he will appear to not be very interested but once the entire lesson 16 fiasco happens they're definetelly the only signs he knows about for some reason when he finally gets tutored.

Still texts you instead.

Even in the same room.

That's what you get from the avatar of sloth I guess-

He does sign a few remarks at you per example commenting on how the new hairstyle Asmo decided to make made his bangs look like a poop behind his back.

Also this:

(The picture above actually happened and was translated to english from my mother lenguage)

#i literally spend DAYS brainstorming this #and then I searched for any other headcanons anyone else has made on deaf people on other fandoms and BOOM #I N S P I R A T I O N #obey me #obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #sanaulgi this one is for u #707 #707 mystic messenger #lolololololol

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Word count: 3900+

Rating: explicit, 18+ only

Outline: It’s Father’s Day again, and you and Whiskey are trying to revive your sex life. Based on the fic “An Unexpected Occasion” with permission from @quica-quica-quica Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x “You” (cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: oral sex/M receiving; oral sex/F receiving; unprotected P/V sex in the context of established relationship; use of clitoral vibrator; medium-level bondage/wrists and ankles/F receiving; medium-level impact play (spanking/hands/leather flogger) F receiving; light throat play/hands on neck/F receiving; a smidge of lactation kink; one instance of Jack calling himself “Daddy”; Jack running his FILTHY mouth; mentions of pink champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries

---

Things hadn’t been exactly dead in the bedroom since your daughter was born, just a little slow and awkward. Jack had taken to fatherhood like a champ, cuddling and cradling the baby in his strong hands when she made her appearance just before midnight on New Year’s Eve. You had nothing to complain about, outside of the usual hormonal shifts and new nursing mom adjustments. Your pregnancy had been textbook-healthy, and other than refusing to sleep through the night, your 6-month-old baby was sweet and easy. Her gray irises and peach-fuzz hair had darkened since birth, and now she was a copy of her daddy, all dark eyes and dimples. The only thing you missed from your “before” life was the higher frequency of good-quality sex with Jack.

You knew from your own work with new moms that it sometimes took months for new parents to get back into the swing of things, but it had still been a rude surprise to find that you and Jack were so tired and busy with parenting that it sometimes took a whole week or more for you to find a mutually-agreeable time to get busy. It sucked, and you missed him.

Just like last year, Jack was out on assignment the week leading up to Father's Day. Valentine's Day this year had been a total bust. Both of you were so wiped out that you had spent the evening bickering and then passed out on the couch in front of an action movie at 8:40 p.m. before waking up at midnight for a quick fumble. Your birthday in April had been similar. You had taken the baby to Grandma's for the evening, and instead of having a romantic dinner out, you had gotten into a minor fender-bender and spent the evening with a heating pad on your neck while Jack argued with your auto insurance company's 24-hour hotline.

So you decided that since it was Father's Day and you were feeling a smidge less tired, and a pinch more sexy, you would use Jack's week away to prepare for a mind-blowing weekend. You bought new bed sheets, got your hair and nails done, and ordered some items online that you hoped would spark his interest again and lead to something playful and fun: lengths of soft, specialized bondage rope, a leather flogger, and a new vibrator, shaped like a tongue with a little divot on one side to cup your clit.

A nurse at work had turned you on to the device, claiming that the soft silicone and specialized shape had given her better climaxes than she’d ever experienced with 30 years of bullet vibes. At least that was one good thing about being in the business of having babies; nobody was shy about sex or the human body. You had plugged it in to charge and took the time to read through all of the instructions, holding it against your hand to feel the different levels of vibrations. You wanted to save the test run for Jack’s return; you were eager to see what he thought of it.

You also chose some lingerie that seemed fairly forgiving for your post-baby body: a black babydoll nightgown with hot pink lace, and a sheer robe and slippers to match. As a labor & delivery nurse you knew better than anyone what pregnancy did to women's bodies, but it was still a little upsetting to see the odd bumps and rumples on your torso that didn’t seem to want to shift. You figured (hoped anyway) that when Jack saw the effort you were going to, he wouldn’t care what “flaws” were hiding underneath the gauze and lace. An hour before Jack was due home, you showered and dressed in your new lingerie. A box of chocolate-covered strawberries and a bottle of pink champagne were chilling in the fridge. Now you just had to wait.

Jack arrived home right on time, and you sprang up from the couch to greet him at the front door. He lumbered inside with a groan and dropped his overnight bag in the foyer. You didn’t give him a chance to remove his hat before you were rushing to embrace him. “Jack! Baby, I'm so glad you’re home.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so glad to see you. Where’s the baby?”

You let go of him and stepped back so that he could take in your new outfit. You spun once to give Jack the full view, and then stepped up close to give him a kiss.

“She’s at Grandma’s for the weekend,” you murmured against his lips. “I have champagne in the fridge, and some surprises for you for Father’s Day.”

Jack chuckled and groaned at the same time. “Oh, honeysuckle. That sounds divine, and you look amazing.” He kissed you and slid one hand down to grab your ass. “Is this my surprise?”

You laughed. “Part of it! Come with me, cowboy.”

You led him to the bedroom and made him sit down on the bed. He toed his boots off and started unbuttoning his shirt. You knelt behind him on the bed and rubbed his shoulders as he undressed. “I’m so glad to see you Jack. Are you in the mood to mess around?”

He stood up and turned to you as he removed his pants. “You tell me, sugar.” He slid his tight jeans off and you saw his erection straining against his briefs. He chuckled at you as he stood in his undershirt and hat.

“Oh yeah,” you waggled your eyebrows at him. “I’m so glad you’re home, Jack. We have a lot to catch up on.”

He threw his hat on the dresser and leaned over you to plant kisses to your cheeks and neck and collarbone. You leaned back and he lay on top of you, murmuring against your neck and hair as he nuzzled you. “What’s new, pussycat?”

“Oh, well…” you hummed contentedly. “I did some shopping, got my nails done, bought this new nightie…”

Jack moved down to nuzzle your cleavage. “I see. And what’s underneath? Is that for me, too?”

“Oh, of course Jack. And I got some new toys that I hope you’ll enjoy playing with, too.”

“Is that so?” Jack pulled back and smiled at you. “Can I see?”

You grinned and nodded. “Let me up.”

Jack rolled away from you and you practically bounced over to the closet to retrieve the large gift bag you had put together. He sat up on the edge of the bed and took the bag from you with a raised eyebrow. “Heavy,” he commented.

He reached in and pulled out the leather flogger first, a wicked smile spreading across his face. “Oh, honey, you know just what I like.” He ran his fingers through the leather falls and then slapped it once, lightly against the bedspread. “Well that’s going to be fun.”

You threw your head back and laughed. “Keep going. There’s more in there.”

Jack reached into the bag and pulled out three bundles of soft bondage rope in pearl gray, white, and black. A soft “Ohhh, I see,” fell from his lips. “You need to test my rope skills, keep me fresh? Is that it?”

“Well it never hurts to practice.” You winked at him. “Keep going, there’s one more thing in there.” You clasped your hands together and waited for Jack to set the rope down on the bed. His hand disappeared into the bag one last time and he pulled out a small white satin drawstring bag; the storage bag that the company had included with your new “device.”

Jack frowned as he opened the bag and pulled out the black vibrator. “What’s this?” He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“A new vibrator. Very advanced technology, and it’s rechargeable and waterproof! Seven different vibration patterns and each one has five different levels.” Jack let out a long, low whistle at that.

You wiggled your eyebrows at him again. “You wanna play, cowboy?”

“Oh, honeybee. I thought you’d never ask.” Jack reached an arm out to circle around your waist and pull you closer. You put your hands on his broad shoulders and leaned down to kiss him as his hands cupped your ass.

The two of you melted together and time slowed down. You had missed this, missed him; missed the easy intimacy that you had shared so much of before the baby came. He felt familiar and good and strong under your lips and hands, and you felt like you had all the time in the world to reintroduce yourselves to each other.

Kisses turned into groping, and you stopped Jack only once to remove your robe and heeled slippers. When you stood before him in just the nightgown and the matching G-string, Jack ran his eyes and his hands appreciatively over your body. You suddenly felt silly that you had ever imagined that Jack would care about any postpartum changes. This was a man who was covered in scars and dings of his own from years of a physical job, he wouldn’t care that you were softer in some places and more wrinkly in others. He just wanted to love you.

You leaned over Jack to reach for the white bundle of rope, and offered it to him as you kneeled down between his legs. You tugged at the waistband of his underwear and he lifted his hips to help you get them off. His cock sprang free and you moaned at the sight of it, taking it into your hands and mouth to lavish attention on him. Jack unwound the length of rope as you kissed and caressed him, then he reached down to pull your wrists up above your head. You pulled off and looked up at him with a smile as he expertly wrapped your wrists, palms pressed together in a prayer position.

He looked down at you with a gentle smirk. “I didn’t say you could stop, honey.”

You hummed out a laugh and bent your head down between your elbows, going back to work with your mouth. Jack leaned back slightly to give himself room to finish wrapping your wrists. When he was done he gave it a tug. “Too tight?”

You pulled off long enough to say, “Just right, baby,” before diving back down to try to swallow him all the way to the back of your throat. Jack groaned softly as he put his large hand across the back of your neck. The broadness of his fingers and the warmth against your skin made you shiver. You hummed out a little noise of pleasure and Jack suddenly hissed and moved his hand under your chin to lift you up off of him.

“You keep going like that, honey, and I won’t make it to the good stuff.”

You smiled up at him, lips slick with saliva. “Well, where do you want me, cowboy?”

He put a strong hand under each elbow and helped you stand. “Why don’tcha lie down and I’ll return the favor for a while?”

You nodded and switched places with Jack, lying back on the bedspread and letting him open your legs. He ran one warm hand up your calf and opened your knee, then repeated the movement on the other side. He kneeled on the soft rug next to the bed and leaned his head close to your crotch, flipping the hem of your nightie up and back. He stroked your lace-covered mound with his fingers.

“Oh, baby, you look gorgeous. So pretty for me.” He placed his open mouth on your panties right over your clit, pressing down to make a seal with his lips before he breathed out gently. The sudden warmth of it made you shiver, and you moaned out his name. Goddamn him; he always knew how to ramp things up to 100 when you least expected it.

Jack hooked your G-string to the side and slid two thick fingers into you, crooking them just right to brush against the spongy spot behind your pubic bone. You arched your back and moaned again. “Jack! Jesus, warn a girl first.”

“Oh but that wouldn’t be any fun, honeysuckle.” His voice was low, all honey and velvet. “You got me all these nice surprises. I thought I’d return the favor.”

He crooked his fingers up again and you squealed as your hips bucked. Jack’s free hand came down on the inside of your thigh with a sharp slap, just above the knee. He smoothed the impact with a warm stroke before running his fingers higher to pinch the inside of your thigh, right where you were most ticklish. You groaned out a laugh as the pinch shot sparks of pleasure and gentle pain to your core.

“You better hold still, girl, or I’ll give you something to moan about.” His words made a rush of wetness seep out between your labia. He pinched you again, gentler than before, and followed it with a kiss to the tender spot. His mustache tickled you there, and you gasped out a giggle.

“Oh, yes sir! I’ll be a good girl.”

“Good, that’s what I like to hear. Now stay still while I concentrate.” He removed his fingers and hooked the elastic waistband of your G-string, pulling it down and off before diving back in with his lips and tongue and fingers, working you open. You felt liquid drip down between your crack as he devoured you, his digits pulling more wetness out of your core as his tongue and lips pushed you open and over the edge. You gasped as you came, trying your best to stay still as you clenched around Jack’s thick fingers. The silken ropes around your wrists strained but held tight. He really was good with a rope.

Jack kissed and petted you softly as you came down, murmuring sweet words into your soft folds. “That’s my good girl, so wet for me... I love this pretty pussy… you have no idea… so good for me… you pretty girl, gorgeous girl...” He placed one last, loud, wet kiss on your mound and then stood up. You smiled up at him as he leaned over you, bracing himself on his fists as he lowered his mouth to yours. Jack was all things at once; soft and warm lips under a cold and damp mustache, his own masculine cologne mixing with your scent on his mouth. The combination and the echoes of your climax made you lightheaded.

Jack stood up and wiped his face off with an open palm. “You ready to play, honeysuckle?” He winked.

You nodded and were surprised at how clear your voice sounded, given how fuzzy your head felt. “Yes, please.”

He grinned at you and gripped your upper arm with a firm hand, helping you sit up and scoot back to recline against the pillows. He grabbed the length of black rope and secured your left ankle to the corner of the bed frame, then did the same with the pearl gray rope on your right ankle. Jack’s movements were swift and gentle, and when he was done you gave your legs an experimental tug. You were spread open and secured in place; you weren’t going anywhere.

“Oh, Jack. Have I been a bad girl?” Your voice was high and playful. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Jack smirked at you as he picked up the black vibrator and turned it on. “It’s not what you did, honeybee. It’s what you’re gonna do.”

His words pulled a gasp from your throat and sent a new rush of slick to your pussy. You moaned a low, needy sound as he kneeled on the bed between your legs and brought the vibrator gently to your clit. You bucked and moaned, feeling the silken bands of rope tug against your ankles. Jack put one large palm on your thigh to hold you still. He nestled the flat tip of the vibrator into the folds surrounding your clit and positioned it so that the shallow divot cupped the sensitive bud.

You were suddenly rocketed into another plane of consciousness as a surprise orgasm wracked your body. Chills crept up the backs of your thighs and down over your nipples. The keening, high-pitched wail that reached your ears surprised you; you hadn’t even realized that you had cried out.

Jack petted your thigh softly as he pulled the vibrator away, keeping it pressed feather-light to your outer labia. “That’s my girl. Good girl.”

You came back to yourself slowly, floating back into the room as you opened your eyes. Jack smiled at you with satisfaction that verged on smugness, like he had just solved a puzzle. He turned off the vibrator and tossed it gently on the bed. “You alright, honey? Did that do something for you?”

“Jesus Christ, Jack. Fuck… oh my god… oh, fuck me…”

Jack smirked at you, “That good, huh?”

“I’ve never come like that in my life. Jesus Christ…”

He crawled up over you, pulling your bound wrists above your head as he kissed you. You felt your breathing return to normal as he explored and probed your mouth with his eager tongue. One strong hand held your jaw in place as the other squeezed and groped your breast. You felt something damp and warm trickle out of your nipple.

“Oh, Jack. I’m leaking a little.” You laughed. “Sorry, it’s been a couple of hours since I pumped for her.”

Jack let go of your chin and worked his mouth down to your cleavage. He opened the split cups of your nightgown and cupped one breast while he brought his mouth to the other, talking and murmuring to you between sucks and licks. “You know I don’t mind, sugar… so sweet for me… you like it when Daddy tastes your honey-sweet milk?”

You guffawed. “Don’t call yourself that, please. It’s weird now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, honeysuckle. Should I stop?” He looked up at you and winked. “You can call me ‘sir’ again if that feels good.” He worked his way over to the other breast and suckled some more. You felt a spurt of milk leak out as he gently rolled your nipple between his front teeth.

“Hell,” he kept going, laving the stiff bud with the flat of his tongue, “... you can call me all sorts of mean names if you just let me keep tasting you like this.”

You threw your head back and moaned. Jack let go of your nipples and positioned himself at your entrance, lining up and diving in with one swift movement. You both moaned in unison and gasped as he pumped into you. He felt so good, so stiff and heavy inside of you as he rocked you gently with his hips. The ankle restraints tugged gently at your feet, reminding you of the delicious, vulnerable position you were in.

“Jesus, honeybee… you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock.” Jack grunted as he thrust into you. “You gonna be my good girl? Take my whole load?”

“Yes, Jack! Yes… I’ll be your good girl.”

He thrust up into you harder, pistoning his hips and shaking the whole bed. He pumped a few more times like that and then lifted himself off. “Turn over for me, sugar. Let me spank you with that new whip.”

You nodded enthusiastically. Jack reached down and released each ankle, and then helped you flip over onto your knees. You braced yourself on your elbows with your wrists still bound, and the sight of the bright white ropes against your skin sent a delicious shudder down your nerves, stiffening your nipples and raising goosebumps on your shoulders.

Jack kneeled behind you and spanked your ass cheek experimentally with an open palm, gauging your reaction. You let out a soft, “Oh…” at the first several slaps. He increased the pressure, sending your hips canting forward a few inches as you moaned.

“Oh, Jaaack…” you breathed out the words. “Oh, you’re so good to me.”

Jack picked up the flogger and brought it down on the other cheek. His first whips were soft, barely harder than a tickle. He was waiting for you to guide him. “Harder,” you urged. He smoothed your buttocks with his warm hand and then brought the leather strings down with a crack that sounded sharper than it was. You egged him on, “Harder, I said. Make it count!”

Jack gave you one solid crack and you cried out. His voice was gruff and sandpapery. “Like that, sugar? You like it when I spank you?”

“Yes, Jack. More… please.” You rocked your hips back and lowered your shoulders to raise your butt higher. “Give it to me. Please, sir.”

Jack alternated open-palm slaps against your ass with strikes of the short whip, lashing you until your cries reached a squeaky high pitch. He stopped and smoothed his warm palms over your skin, then leaned down and lavished open-mouthed kisses on the area.

“You nice and wet now, honey? You ready for me again?” He pressed the head of his cock to your slick entrance and paused.

“Yes Jack, yes please. Get inside of me.”

Jack thrust inside of you, hard, and it sent your head reeling. He skated one big, warm, flat palm over your sweetly abused ass, murmuring praises at you as he pounded steadily into you. You raised yourself back up on your elbows for stability.

“You’re my fucking dream girl, you sweet thing. Can’t believe I got so fucking lucky with you…” He gripped your hips with both hands as he pounded into you, then he leaned over to growl into your ear as he wrapped one large hand around the front of your throat.

“You like that, you fucking dirty girl? You filthy little angel? You’re such a sweet girl, letting me fuck you like this.”

You leaned forward just an inch, increasing the pressure on your throat as he continued to grunt into your ear. The sensation of his warm breath on your ear combined with the delicious feeling of his thick fingers around your neck, and you felt yourself clench around his cock.

Jack’s speech started faltering, interspersed with thrusts and groans. You knew he was getting close. “You-” his breath hitched. “Fucking... fucking pretty girl. Fucking-” He groaned again. “...goddamn gorgeous girl… Fuck!”

His hand tightened just a little around your throat and you felt your pussy clench again, sending him over the edge. He let go of your neck and bent over your back, resting his sweaty forehead between your shoulder blades as he rocked into you. You felt him, hot and sticky against your skin as he released into you.

You collapsed onto the bed and he lay on top of you. Your breathing slowed together as you both came back to Earth.

---

“Was that a good welcome home?” You leaned over to Jack’s side of the bed and held a chocolate-covered strawberry up to his lips. He took a bite and moaned. You giggled contentedly and tapped the rim of your champagne flute to his. He nodded at you and swallowed, washing the bite down with a sip of pink champagne.

“Yes, sugar, thank you. That was amazing.” He wrapped his free arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. “I know it’s been a rough year, but I feel like we’re getting back on track in the bedroom. I’ve missed you like this.”

You looked up at him and smiled. “I missed you, too, Jack. Happy Father’s Day.”

--- Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

"All fics" roll call: @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul

@kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @quica-quica-quica @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001

#pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent jack whiskey daniels

[kikis-writing-world]

Bug in the System

Summary: Reader has a complicated relationship with Nathan, living and working with him. They’ve always been nervous to bring up prescription medication, so shit hits the fan when they runs out and their mood plummets.

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x GN!Reader that struggles with mental health.

Word Count: 2k

Rating/Warnings: Mental health - depression and anxiety are expressly mentioned and reader is in a bad low. Talk of medication and ramifications of not taking them. Mention of doctors. Brief mention of sex. Worries of the stigma around mental health. Lots of swearing because it’s Nathan. Unedited/Betaed. it’s almost fluff in Nathan’s asshole way, there’s a happy ending.

A/N: I blame @foxilayde​ that I’m suddenly writing for Nathan... I hated him when I watched the movie and now here we are. Idk, this idea hit me last night while trying to fall asleep and I couldn’t get it out of my head. I had to write it.

You weren’t sure how to define the relationship you and Nathan had. He wasn’t your boyfriend - not only did that feel so juvenile, but also… he just wasn’t. There had never been a declaration of love between the two of you, no commitment to monogamy or even non-monogamy. The two of you lived together, worked together, slept together- it could almost be called a friends with benefits relationship, only… softer. You ate dinners together, danced around the house together, and cuddled together when watching movies. You also spent days, sometimes weeks at a time where you hardly spoke to each other when engrossed in a project. Did this form out of attraction, or emotion, or was it an inevitability when two adults - whose sexualities, attractions and availabilities lined up accordingly - lived together in isolation for an extended period of time? 

In summary: there was no easy way to define what was between the two of you, and you were happy there were no other humans around to ask. You didn’t feel the need to defend what you shared, but you had no desire to try to label it either.

Despite the friendly and casual nature of whatever the relationship was, there were still things that you had yet to admit to Nathan. The dwindling supply of medications tucked safely in a make-up bag inside the drawer of your bedside table felt like a ticking time bomb. You only had so many doses remaining and it wasn’t like you could walk down to the local pharmacy for a refill. Any supplies coming to the fortress of a home had to be called in, ordered, and helicoptered to you. There was no way to do it without Nathan finding out along the way.

You watched the pills slowly empty from their plastic bottles like a reverse hourglass. Despite the effects they had on your malfunctioning brain chemistry, they never quite tampered down the anxiety you had about opening up about your mental illness, let alone to someone like Nathan.

Nathan worked hard and played harder. He strove to be the best him he could be at all times. He accepted nothing less than perfection and no matter what the relationship between you two could be defined as -coworkers, employer/employee, friends, friends with benefits, lovers -  you didn’t want to disappoint him.

You avoided and avoided until inevitably, the last pill came out of the last bottle. It only got worse from there. Without the anxieties in check and the chemicals being balanced, the insecurity flared even worse. Your inner voice told you that you deserved the unhappiness flowing through you, that you should just stay in bed and give up since Nathan would kick you out of the house soon enough: he’d either get tired of your low mood, your falling productivity, or he’d discover your secret and be done with you.

He noticed. Of course he did. You stopped dancing, stopped cuddling, stopped fucking. Then you stopped eating, stopped talking, stopped leaving your room. You felt like you couldn’t get out of bed at all. You spent your time sleeping or curled up under your blankets in the dark room wishing you could sleep more. That or just disappear.

That was where Nathan found you, a month and a half after you’d run out of your meds.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” He barged into your room one morning… afternoon… you had no idea what time it was.

Nathan turned the light on and you could hear him pacing. “Are you sick? Do I need to call in a doctor? Are you even alive under there?! Hello?!”

You sighed, forcing yourself to sit up and prove you were alive, awake, and hearing him. The blankets dropped to your waist, revealing what you were sure was an absolute mess of a human. You knew what you looked like the last time you’d been brave enough to look in the mirror and you were sure it was even worse now.

Nathan cursed and you swear he nearly recoiled at the sight of you. “Are you in here dying on me or something?” He questioned. 

You weren’t sure how to answer, what you could possibly say to him.

“Hello?!” He snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Is anybody in there?!”

You blinked as he crowded you, hysterics growing as you seemingly ignored him. You could tell he was close to grabbing you and shaking you, and you didn’t know if your body could handle that. As it was, your muscles had protested sitting up. Instead, you leaned over and opened your drawer, taking out the zippered make-up bag.

You tossed the pouch at him, hearing all the plastic bottles click together as it landed at his feet. He bent down to pick it up, opening it carefully like he thought some sort of creature might jump out at him. His brows furrowed when he saw the bottles inside and dumped them out onto the mattress.

“Are these all empty? Fuck did you take these?” He questioned, panic rising in his voice. “Are you trying to OD on me or something? Shit.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, about to call for help.

“No.” You croaked. “Well, yeah. I took them… but… they’re my meds.” You gave in. “I’ve been taking them since I got here. I[was taking until they ran out.”

Nathan looked down at the bottles, picking one up as he read the label. “What are they for?”

“Depression mostly. Anxiety.” You shrugged, listing the simple ones.

Nathan was quiet as he read the bottles. You had no idea if he knew what any of them meant. It’s not like the labels read “Take one daily to stop the crazies!” The names, the dosages, the frequencies meant nothing to someone with no experience… but then again, Nathan wasn’t just anyone.

“How long?” He sighed, turning to sit on the edge of the bed.

You would have deflated if you didn’t already feel as low as you could go. Having assumed the worst, you weren’t surprised he couldn’t look at you.

“I was diagnosed in junior year-”

“No, I mean how long have you been without your meds?” He interrupted you, turning to stare  you down.

“A month.” You shrugged. “Almost two.”

“For fucks sakes.” He grumbled, turning to his phone again and typing away.

“I’ll pack my shit. Just, give me a few days and I’ll go.” You mumbled, laying down on your side and facing away from him. You didn’t want to watch him posting for a new assistant or scheduling the pick-up or whatever he was doing. You’d wallow for a bit, probably take a nap, and then you’d pack anything here that was important. Fuck the rest. You didn’t have the energy. You didn’t care.

“The fuck are you talking about?” He asked distractedly, like he hadn’t heard you as his cogs of his brain jumped to life. He did that a lot when he was preoccupied. He would hear your voice, realize you’re talking, but not absorb the words. Sometimes he needed to ask 3 or 4 times until you gave up and texted him instead.

“I’m bringing in a doctor. You need to get checked out before you start back up on anything. You’re not supposed to go off of these without supervision. Says so right here. Black and white.” He chastised you.

You frowned, looking over your shoulder in confusion. You saw him still typing away on his phone, holding one of the empty, orange-tinted bottles in his hand. He set it down, picking up another. He took a picture, looking over the label quickly for himself before setting it back down.

“What are you doing?”

“Sending him the labels so he knows what he’s walking into. Why the fuck would you just stop taking your meds?” He sniped. “Why didn’t you get more? I fucking ask you if you need shit and you just conveniently forget your pills?”

You picked at a thread of the blanket, not wanting to watch him as he grew angrier with you. As soon as you were in good health and his conscience was clear, he’d be rid of you. You were sure of it. It was more than you’d expected to be honest.

You heard the quiet noise from his phone, indicating the email had been sent. That meant his attention wasn’t divided as he rounded back on you.

“Why won’t you answer me? It’s like fucking talking to a wall or something. If I wanted one-sided conversations, I never would have brought you up here. Why didn’t you get more?!”

You took a shuddering breath before answering. “I didn’t want you to know.”

“Know what? That you take medication?” He scoffed in disbelief.

The room was quiet as you didn’t answer, but you could practically hear his brain processing, whirring like a computer with a squeaky exhaust fan.

“Hey, look at me.” He ordered, his voice dropping in volume to a kinder tone, but it was still not a request. It was a demand. You sat up again, looking at him stare at you with dark, angry eyes.

“When a program isn’t working, do you throw away the whole CPU or do you debug it and fucking find the fix?” He asked. You didn’t answer, assuming it was rhetorical.

“Your software is fucked, and these,” he picked up one of the bottles to hold up between you two. “These are the fix. Why the fuck would you be embarassed about shit like that?”

You shrugged your shoulders, dropping your gaze again. “You’re…” you struggled to find the words, but Nathan jumped on your train of thought frighteningly quick.

“Me?! So it’s my fault? I eat brown rice and salad and work out every day so I’m some health nut hippy who wouldn’t understand, is that it?”

He was putting words into your mouth, but he was essentially getting the point. You were scared he would reject you, mock you, think less of you.

He crawled towards you on the bed, cupping your chin a little too tight as he lifted your face. He was clearly done having you look away from him. “I’m a fucking reclusive genius who lives in the middle of ass fuck nature and only lets people come and go with a goddamn keycard! Do you not think I’m self-aware enough to realize that? A fucking prodigy, multi-millionaire by 15, CEO of the most successful technology company in history. The President calls me and I hit ignore. Do you really think I’m not self-aware enough to know we all have our own brand of fucked up?” He laughed.

“If you need these to get through it, to be my little genius-” He released your jaw to cup your face in both hands, giving it a shake. “To keep up with my shit, to live here without losing your mind at the isolation, to be my dance partner and dinner partner and movie date - then fucking take them. Would I be having to tell you this if it was for your blood pressure or a heart condition or something?!”

His phone buzzed and he released his hold on you, leaning back to read the message that had just come through.

“Doc’s gonna be here tomorrow morning. Gotta keep you hydrated until then and you should try to eat.” He summed up the message as his eyes skimmed the screen. He tucked his phone back into his pocket before slapping your blanket-covered thigh. “What are we eating tonight? Your choice.”

“I’m not hungry.” You mumbled.

“Not an option!” He declined as he stood off the bed. “What are we eating?”

You sighed, letting your head fall back as you thought. “Grilled cheese?”

“And tomato soup? Coming right up.” He leaned over to you, cupping the back of your head as he pulled you close enough to kiss the top of your head. “Rest. I’ll bring it in when it’s ready.”

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @dinthisisthe-wayson @seasonschange-butpeopledont @kesskirata​ 

#Nathan Bateman x Reader #Nathan Bateman x GN!Reader #Nathan Bateman x You #Nathan Bateman imagine #Nathan Bateman drabble #Oscar Isaac Character Fanfiction #Wookietales #Nathan Bateman